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Thursday, January 15, 2009


I had to find
the track of time
before I could find you,
but your smiling face
stands in the way
of what I want to do.
So get off my path
I'm moving past
my past (and that means you).
Your handsome face
will have to wait-
I've got better things to do.

You know the saying, "I lost track of time"?
I started thinking about that, and that was the beginning of this poem.


Sound slides into silence, shushed by slush and swallowed by snow. I am walking deliberately slow, towing a trail of breath behind me. The crashing crunch of boots through ice, footrprints of grey on a canvas of white- it is winter where I am, cold outside and warm within.

Thursday, January 8, 2009


I am the once was wet blanket, tumble dry only to the party time fiend, only on certain occasions for short duration, no time past bed time and minus annoying relations. I am the roller coaster hater turned hesitant liker; in no time at all I’ll be a rough and tumble biker (sarcasm brought to you by you friendly neighborhood soccer streaker I mean, striker). I am changing like the grass is growing like the wind is blowing and repainting the clouds in the skies, tricking your eyes into seeing different things, the different aspects of me. So put aside your one-lined descriptions, and get ready for something that can't be written- I am a mess of colors and words, smells and songs you probably haven't heard. I am nothing that you can be- I am strictly and uniquely made me.

I think this is about maturing and being uniquely yourself, uncontainable/ "fearfully and wonderfully made".

Wednesday, January 7, 2009


I picked up my dinner, spun around,
and began to walk away.
Time slowed down.
I stared at my plate,
thinking, "Crap, my spaghtetti.
Stupid shoelaces."
I am not aware
of my body twisting midair,
but I slowly realize I'm looking up.
My feet are stuck,
my arms are spread,
and my head
has knocked against
(and is currently propped against)
a chair.
I do not try to wonder how it got there-
it hurts to think.
I begin to notice a few more things.
My dinner is on the ground.
There's quite a bit of sound
that I can't quite understand.
I look at my hand,
still holding the plate.
I look back up, and a concerned face
asks, "Are you okay?"
After the words finally sink in,
I bare my teeth and grin,
get up, brush myself off, and start to walk again.
After cleaning up the mess, thanking the one person who helped,
and getting a new plate
(with food on it), I will laugh and say,
"Shoelaces will be
the end of me."

It's long, but it's a true story.

So two of my friends are on social, and so our friends were all split up and at dinner on one person was sitting with Will so I was like, "Hey, I'll even it out or else it won't be fair." But then everyone moves to follow me leaving Jessica stranded, so I go to move back but my shoelace is untied and somebody's chair is in the way. All I could think really was, "Crap, my spaghetti" and "Stupid shoelaces".
Later I found it hilarious that I was so intent on saving my food that I didn't make any move to catch myself at all, hence me adding the part where I'm just staring at the hand that is still uselessly holding the plate.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009


There are lots of little birds on the telephone pole.
I don’t know why they won’t go.
I would, you know,
if I could fly.
So I try
to scare them off, light a fire beneath their wings,
but they barely do a thing.
They flutter a few feet,
and I am tempted to repeat
I know there is no help
for these feathered fools, though, and I move on.

I'm feeling restless.

Silly birds. It's cold here! Fly away!

Monday, January 5, 2009


5 stanzas of 5 lines, 1 beat per






I could make it five lines with five beats per. That would probably make more sense.

Oh well.

Sunday, January 4, 2009


Sugar is sweet, and so are you.
And just like sugar, when I get too
much, things start to decay.
I am left wondering why it hurts to much to go away,
when you are obviously toying with me.
Once, I noticed that your teeth
were pretty far from white.
You must have too much of someone else's sugar in your life.

Of course I wouldn't judge someone from the color of their teeth. I think I meant it to be symbolic, or a metaphor of sorts.

Somthing along those lines.