Friday, May 20, 2011

Perfection

A fragment of a poem.

Until then,
Perfection remains
A faraway star.
Perhaps one day
I will reach it,
Only to find that
It burned out
Years ago...

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Future Poem

The words begin to form.
Here.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Intention

If everything were done with intention
Would the world be a better place?
Or would unintentional things never happen anymore?
And things that were discovered by accident,
Be left waiting. Undiscovered.
Potential would be left untapped.
Paths unbeaten.
Friendships unresolved.
Should life be lived with intention,
Or just the intention that what comes
Will come?

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Sometimes...

Whispers are louder
than shouts
You can fall deeper in love
than you ever thought
possible
New keys open
old doors
The smallest things
are worth it
Productivity
is overrated
Music is all you
need to get through
Kites can fly
to the moon
Recycled paper equals
recycled thoughts
Inner peace comes
before world peace
Children hold
the answers

Air is not the
only thing you need
to breathe
Stars don't have to fall
for your wish to
come true
Surprises come
in the form of
a routine
You don't need
a reason
Love is not what you planned

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Playing With Fire

To condemn someone to death.
To give another human being
Permission to end a life.
The immense power they
Couldn't have realized
They held in their hands.
An eye for an eye,
A tooth for a tooth?
Would the murdered really
Wish the same on their murderer?
Or would they want to
Give them a chance
To grow. To learn.
And most of all, to teach.
Fight fire with fire,
The flames grow.
But get burned once,
You never play with fire again.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Madness

"What is it about meter and cadence and rhythm
that makes their makers mad?" ~Susanna Kaysen

Why do all the greatest writers
take their own lives?
Sexton and Plath,
Teasdale and Woolf.
Do they write because they hurt
or do they long to die
because the words crowd their head
and all they really want is peace?
Do they embrace the words
as a momentary balm for their pain
or are the words burdens
they carry on their hearts?
Does poetry free them,
or chain them to a tortured world?
And what of music?
Music is said to free your soul
but what happens when the
very same music
makes you lose your mind?
Is that simply the cost
of hearing raw perfection
inside your head?
Does a musician eventually
begin to crowd out the real world
to make room for the
beauty swirling through their ears?
Sometimes madness is the cost of revolution.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

My Belief in Poetry

"After one has abandoned a belief in god,
poetry is that essence which takes its place as life's redemption."

"The whole race is a poet that writes down
The eccentric propositions of its fate."

~Wallace Stevens

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Born Of God

True story, i literally wrote this in my head during church a month or so ago.

"Those who love are born of God"
I hear this sung,
sitting on a pew amongst a hundred other bodies squirming in the heat.
I wait. For the line that never comes.
If what they believe is true, those who hate are born of God as well.
They claim the best of their people but forget to mention the riff raff
that inevitably appears on this earth in addition to the
"good christian people" who they like to take credit for.
Those who love... (people of the same gender) ...are born of God.
Those who love... (beating their wives then raping their children) ...are born of God.
Those who love... (being atheist) ...are born of God.
Are the terrorists born of God, when they're fighting for a supposedly different God?
Are those who believe in nothing more than the solid ground
beneath their feet born of a God they never even considered to exist?
And what of the children who were never taught about that Jesus guy
but who believe in the power of the moon to answer their pleading whispers
in the middle of the night, and when she doesn't hear them over the thunder
to heal the wounds when the storm is passed.
Are these children born of God, or something higher?
I've got to believe we all come from the same place and end.
in the same place.
Regardless of the circumstances, deep down there is good.
Like a trickling stream towards the bottom of our hearts,
urging it to beat like a drum,
passing the rhythm outwards into the chests of others,
willing them to live without hate, and find the good in everyone.
who is born of God. Or otherwise.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Language of Freedom

If i could pull a bow across the strings of kites being clutched by the hands of children's ghosts in Kabul, it would sing like freedom, freedom like a sunflower growing outside the barred windows of Guantanamo Bay, forever reminding them to turn their faces to the sun. The closest star that refuses to judge when men kneel down to pray in the only way they know how because they know that somewhere, their mother is on her knees, begging for her child to be freed in their innocence. And if their religion connects them to their brothers' crime, they pray that Allah will help the white man see the difference.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Kite and the Moon

Not really a poem, kind of a vignette, more of a fragment.

Last night i dreamt you and I flew a kite to the moon,
as it threaded between my fingers
you hummed an old tune that reminded me of childhood.
The tail of the kite waved goodbye as it climbed to converse with the stars.
When you took my hand I released the kite and together
we lay down on the grass to watch the kite kiss the moon,
so filled with passion that a shooting star streaking by
wished on himself to find a love as true as that,
and just as I was wishing the same thing,
I awoke to find you beside me and the silent moon
smiling down.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

The Day You Got Your Wings

ok so here is the finished product of "The Key To Your Heart" that i promised awhile ago... heres the funny thing, this has been written and recorded for the past month or so, im just really bad about getting it posted, so anyway, here it is, the only way blogger will let me post it is in video format so thats just my little logo-y thing that i made up one day. so enjoy, the text is below, its called The Day You Got Your Wings.


video


Last night on the news they sent out an amber alert for your wings, last seen in the eyes of the only person who believed in you. You called out to the moon for help but she answered in riddle so you set out to search yourself, bathed in her cryptic light. You stumbled into a darkened wood thinking maybe they flew to the trees to sing with the birds. Your wings always did sing out for freedom on the days you forgot to fly… they’d call to you enchantingly , singing of the breeze in your hair and the oceans far below you. You tripped over a root and fell, bringing you back to earth and as you looked up to ask the moon why she didn't alight that root, you were grabbed by the branches of a weeping willow, enveloping you in sadness. The willow whispered into your ear reminding you why, years ago, you gave up and jumped off that bridge. After you hit the water and came up gasping for air, you realized you were only trying to fly. That's the day you got your wings. A cardinal came down from the sky and embodied you, giving you wings crimson as the blood dripping from your wrists. As you flew to the stars your scars healed in the cold night air until they stung no more. When you asked the stars how they found the strength to share their light with the world they pointed to your heart. There you found a key and felt a growing sadness. The willow reminds you now o f that key to your heart that you never gave away. Your tears begin to fall, soaking down to the roots of the willow, healing it of its weeping. All it ever needed was someone to cry with. The willow releases you from its grasp, filling you with the hope you haven’t felt since you came up gasping for air. A hope that fills your soul like the deep breath that fills your lungs at the top of that bridge. As your toes leave the edge you spread your arms and start to soar, gentle crimson wings growing from the scars along your shoulder blades. When you climb towards the clouds, your wings grow stronger whispering with the wind. They tell you they would never leave you, that they were always there, you just had to be given the chance to fly.


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Volando

Quiero volar.
En mis sueños, a veces,
Yo puedo.
Arriba las montañas,
Y el mar.
Estoy libre
Por un momento.
Pero entonces
Despierto, y
Estoy basada
Otra vez.

Monday, February 8, 2010

A or B? I choose C.

Nothing.
Is black or white.
There are a million
And one
Shades of gray.
And purple.
And orange.
And every other color
Of the spectrum.
Life can't be defined
By one color.
It is embodied by
Every color.
The grass is not
Always green.
Just green.
Is it
Light green,
Forest green,
Fake green,
Brown?
And is the grass
Always greener on
The other side?
Or just a different
Shade of green?
And the sky is not
Always blue.
It can be deep purple,
Or light pink,
Or red.
And are blue skies
Really best?
Wouldn't you rather
See a beautiful
Pallette of colors
Above your head
Instead of
Just blue?
And black and white
Films aren't actually
Black and white,
They're gray.
Dark gray,
Light gray,
Almost white,
Almost black.
-And is it gray
Or grey?-
Is there ever a question
That can't be answered
With more than
One answer
Outside the
Boundaries of math?
There is never a
Right or wrong
Answer,
It's completely up to
Perspective.
A or B?
I choose C.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Music

Just a thought...

Music cannot be seen because
It is too perfect for eyes to register,
Too beautiful for mirrors to do justice to,
And too free for a camera to capture...

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

The Key To Your Heart

Ok so this poem is unfinished but i guess i felt like publishing the first part of it before the new year, don't ask me why. So even though i don't believe in new years resolution, mine is to write down more often the poems that form in my head. Just a thought. Anyway, here's the poem.

video

tonight on the news they sent out an amber alert for your wings, last seen in the eyes of the only person who believed in you. you called out to the moon for help but she answered in riddle so you set out to search yourself, bathed in her cryptic light. you tripped over a root and fell and as you looked up to ask the moon why she didn't alight that root, you were grabbed by the branches of a weeping willow, enveloping you in sadness. the willow whispered into your ear reminding you why, years ago, you gave up and jumped off that bridge. after you hit the water and came up gasping for air, you realized you were only trying to fly. that's the day you got your wings. a cardinal came down from the sky and embodied you, giving you wings crimson as the blood dripping from your wrists. as you flew to the stars your scars healed in the cold night air until they stung no more. when you asked the stars how they found the strength to share their light with the world they pointed to your heart. there you found a key and felt a growing sadness. the willow reminds you now o f that key to your heart that you never gave away.

Soul

Someone's inner being
Often lost along the
Unending journey called
Life. Hold yours close.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

To Nidal Malik Hasan-

Well it's been awhile... i actually wrote this shortly after the Fort Hood shooting but just haven't put it up yet i guess. i was just trying to make sense of everything i suppose. my uncle was at Fort Hood for the first few years of my little cousin's life. anyway, i don't understand war and i'm waiting for the government to realize that this war we're fighting with ourselves has nothing to do with terrorism. well, done ranting, here's the poem.

If you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk.
If you give a boy a gun, he's going to ask for a bullet.
If you raise children playing cowboys and indians,
Thinking oh, it's only a toy gun... you may regret it.
Teach them to hunt, thinking they will stop
At aiming for animals, you never know.
Ignore their video games filled with theft and violence,
Believing it will satisfy their "need for speed"
Or whatever,
Never think that one day they may be the one on the news,
Below the headline 12 dead, 31 more wounded,
You need to wake up.
When a kid is smart enough to get straight A's
And accepted into Yale,
But has to join the army in order to pay
For his college education,
I begin to realize what is wrong with this country.
If being the land of the free and the home of the brave
Means being tied to bonds that appear perfect,
But are actually rooted deep in corruption,
Count me out.
Among the land of the brave is
The 'land of the scared shitless because if i die in battle,
My 6-month-old son will be left fatherless'
Or my mother will never forgive herself
For giving me that toy gun,
Or that video game,
Or that hunting license,
The day i snap under the pressure to shoot
At a man who has a family waiting
At home for him too,
And when the lines between him and i
Begin to blur,
I become so confused about who is the enemy
Because it's all the same to me.
And when i open fire, leaving 12 dead,
And 31 more wounded,
You'll remember the children's story
If You Give A Mouse A Cookie
And wish you hadn't given me that gun.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Where I Am From

ok well this was an assignment in health class and i kinda liked the way it turned out, so here you go.


I am from waiting-to-be-filled notebooks,

From converse before it was a trend and bright colors filling my life.

I am from memorizing poems until lines fill my head.

From writing my own poetry with thoughts on every subject,

And art forming when I close my eyes.

I am from the heart of Hastings, within biking distance of everything,

Riding paths along the slowly flowing river beneath our famous bridge.

I am from fall leaves rustling in the crisp breeze awaiting the soft snowy winter,

From tulips peeking out their heads at the first sign of spring and summer birds singing.

I am from Christmas in Kenosha and dark hair, dark eyes.

From Northard and Grasser and Kruse.

I am from loving all kinds and smiling through everything.

From “Focus!” and “When it’s gone, it’s gone.”

I am from having my own beliefs, uninfluenced by anyone else

Because religion is simply perspective and politics the same way.

From being myself with no desire to change.

I am from respecting you, whoever you are, because in this world full of

Love and hate, peace and war, everyone matters.

I am from believing we all have a voice and wanting to hear yours

Because I know that your opinion counts the same as everyone else’s.

My past’s corners are curling in shoeboxes laden with dust

Where the photos are fading while memories hold strong,

Depicting firsts and lasts, happy moments and sad,

But always filled with smiles, because that is where I am from.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

To The Child Soldier...

The tear that rolls down your cheek
Traces a road of
Salvation,
Redemption,
Innocence.
The road that leads you to a new life,
Washing clean the terrible memories
Reflected in your eyes.
Your youth shines through when
Your cheek dimples with a smile
Long forgotten.
I never would have imagined
That your tiny, calloused hands
Could cradle a gun,
Your bone thin finger
Pull the trigger.
After years of war and death,
You might finally know peace,
Might finally know a life
Without the corruption
You've learned to survive.
My heart is weighed down with
Pity for all that you have lost;
Your parents,
Your siblings,
Your home,
Yourself.
Everything.
Gone.
Maybe you will find yourself
Again,
Learn to trust,
Learn to laugh,
Learn to love,
Again.
That is my hope for you.
As you continue to
Walk away from your
Old life,
I watch your eyes,
The things you've seen with
Those eyes...
Then- A glimmer of hope
Rushes through me-
The dullness in your dark eyes
Lifted,
If only for a second.
But that is all I need to know
You'll be okay.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Poetry Is My Prayer

Just a thought I had the other night...

While most Christians are lying in bed
Sending up the Lord's Prayer,
Poetry is forming in my head instead.
I believe God, or whatever
Higher being is out there,
Will accept prayer in any form,
Especially the most honest form I know,
Through poetry.
Although my mentally recorded poems
May not be praising Him,
Or asking Him for forgiveness,
Or even how He can help me,
I believe He accepts them as openly
As any other prayer out there.
I believe that He realizes that
By sending Him my raw poems,
I am inviting Him into my life.
I hope he knows that when I whisper
Poetry into the darkness,
I am fighting off the monsters
In my life that might otherwise
Have been sent to Him to take
Care of himself in a traditional prayer.
Poetry brings me more comfort
Than any prayer I have ever prayed,
It is as vital to me as
Another's rosary might be,
And likewise, I clutch it
Near to me in times of trial.
Poetry is my rock, my cornerstone
Which to build my life off of,
And while some Christians
May tell me that's sinful,
I believe God is up above me,
Smiling at my words
As I pray a silent poem.

Invisible

yet another acrostic poem...

Inside of myself, where
No one can see me. My
Very being, shrouded
In anonymity behind my
Secretly crafted mask.
I am more comfortable
Behind this barrier,
Looking out through
Eyes that speak no truth.

Response To Your Ignorant Comment...

its been awhile, i've forgotten to post the things i've written so here comes 3 in a row... sorry.
this isn't really a poem, more my thoughts in response to something someone said a little bit ago that really kind of bugged me.

There is no such thing as an angry poet.
Sure, there are angry people
Who happen to be poets,
But they are not angry as poets.
Likewise, there are people who write
Angry poems,
But that still does not make them
An angry poet,
Simply a person expressing
Anger in the form of a poem.
When you write poetry,
Your anger is released,
It dissipates into the cold night air
Like stars,
Fleeing the morning.
Therefore, 'an angry poet'
Simply is not possible,
Poetry leaves no room
For anger amongst its
Carefully chosen words.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Willow

Why do willows weep?
I think it may be because
Life continues to bend its
Long branches everyday,
Only sometimes, all it
Wants is to break.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Why Poetry?

I write poetry
Because I'm
Afraid of what might
Bleed out of my
Mind, unbidden,
If i was told
To share my
Raw thoughts.
In poetry,
I can hide my
Real meaning
Behind the
Smoke & mirrors
Of words.
Between metaphors
And under irony,
My heart can
Hide rather than
Be exposed
In the stinging
Cold air.
I'm not afraid
Of what the
World might think,
But more afraid
Of what I'd
Have to
Say.

Monday, August 17, 2009

The Women's Cries

video
How are we supposed to stay silent while you abuse us with your words,
use us for our bodies, then choose someone else more "obedient"?
How can we fight back when all we're doing is what's right
and all that we do for you is never quite good enough?
How is it that you say you love us
then you shove us because dinner wasn't perfect
so you've had enough of us?
We're sick of not speaking until spoken to,
when you break our bones our heart is broken too,
we can't just sit here while you throw us hate,
we want to see the world past your front gate.
Freedom is what we're looking for, freedom is what you've taken away,
when will our choice become reality?
We're still waiting for the day that our chains are broken out of love,
not hate,
for our world should be a place of hope, not of dreams known too late.
The rope is around our necks, the rope is around our hands,
it's been there so long we can't remember who bound us,
maybe man tied our hands then hung our souls,
so that all that was left for us was to hang up our roles,
throw away our goals, then make it official that we're dead,
even though they killed us years ago.
And the one thing we know, possibly our last thought before light,
is that they will blame us, and sometimes we may think that they're right,
and that, will be the biggest casualty, of the night.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Love is a Star

To the one who called me a hopeless romantic...

You call me a hopeless romantic,
but what does that make you?
a hater of love,
a villain of the word 'forever'?
you hate because you're afraid
of what love might bring,
you think that if you can fight it off,
you'll avoid the heartbreak and longing,
jealousy and tears.
but you don't know love
like i do.
don't know how he can
slip under your door at night,
find you in the dark,
and dive into your dreams
as though they are water.
he can point you in one direction
then change the road signs
like an old cartoon character
until
you're
lost.
lost in the winding roads
of love.
and with each wrong turn
you are deeper into the forest,
tangled in its branches,
but mesmerized by its beauty.
you're focused on the tree,
longing to step back and
gaze at the forest
but you find no way out.
you begin to forget what life
even was without love,
begin to realize that
as much as it hurts,
you can no longer live
without it.
love doesn't have to speak,
or smile,
or dance,
love simply has to be.
has to have the courage
to shine through the darkness
of life.
the opposite of love isn't hate,
it's fear.
the fear of expressing your feelings
in case they aren't returned.
the opposite of darkness isn't light,
its courage.
like the stars who have the courage
to shine through the night even after
time burns them out and
love
is a star
so don't call me a hopeless romantic
when you cant see the stars,
and when you can,
you'll have nothing to say.

Locked in my Head

It's been a while, I'm sorry.

Everyday, poetry forms in my head,
but i realize that the reason i don't write it down,
decide to keep my poems to myself,
is because I'm scared.
scared that on paper,
the poem will not be as beautiful,
my vision will be ruined,
and the world will judge.
in my head, the poetry is safe,
no one can judge it,
or grade it,
or hate it.
but they can't love it,
or appreciate it
or understand it
either.
i realize, in my head, my poems cant
make a difference,
-or try, anyway.
so the question is:
is it better to keep a poem in your head
and have no risk of it being judged,
but no chance of it making any difference;
or is it better to share it with the world
and risk someone not liking or agreeing with it,
but giving it the opportunity to change a perspective?
... i get the feeling
that i'm not really talking about
poetry
anymore.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Broken

A broken bottle on the sidewalk, beside
A broken man on his knees, harboring
A broken dream on his face...

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

New Wings

Ok, here is a slam poem like thing that i wrote and kind of needs to be 'performed' so i recorded it. i apologize for the background noise, i dont know how to fix that. anyway, its called new wings, just press play.



video



New Wings
Flying equals freedom and wings are the key
To living freely, but my wings were clipped
The day I stopped believing in myself.
That moment of doubt and the clouds shattered
While my eyes rained tears so salty
They could have come from the dead sea.
The day I stopped believing in me,
My wings shriveled in the stinging cold air
Til they crumbled to dust and danced away
With the wind. My shoulder blades hold scars
And everyday my body yearns for its freedom
To fly, for the opening of gates to the sky
But still… I remain chained to the ground by shackles
So strong even my soul can’t gnaw her way through.
The stars gaze down with pity, the broken moon
Sheds lonely tears that land on my heart,
Burning it like acid but leaving it feeling whole
Again, if only for a little while. The angels
Soar above my head and whisper words of comfort,
Helping me make it through another flightless day
I don’t know how much longer I can live grounded
This way I NEED TO FLY but all I can do is shuffle
My lead feet across the ground and cry tears
That pierce the soil and soak down to the roots
Grounding the tree like these chains ground me
And I need to be free but one mistake
And now I’m caged here forever on this earth
Damned to live a life of watching birds freely roam
The sky while I only hold memories
Of what it was like to fly, blending in with the blur
Of faces around me and I wonder how many
Of them are truly free because if they owned
The key to freedom I don’t believe they’d be here,
They’d be above the clouds smiling at the moon,
Making friends with the stars, giving them
Each a name. If they possessed wings
They would fly far away from this world
Of hatred and war they would soar
Through the heart of the galaxy searching
For a place of love, a world of peace,
And a land of freedom they cannot find here.
This earth is not loveless you just have to dig
Past the shackles and chains to the soul
Trying to gnaw her way through, don’t you see
What this world has to offer when you believe
You can fly despite the chains gripping you tightly
You do not have to stop when the leash
Becomes taut, just imagine yourself flying
And your dreams will steal you away,
And your soul will release towards the stars
And new wings will grow from your scars.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Dreams

this is just kind of a mini-vignette, or something, but i just was kinda writing without thinking and actually decided i liked this.

She dreams at night of clouds and birds and love,
but wakes in the morning to find that all these things exist in reality-
only they're not as wonderful.
In dreams clouds are purer,
birds fly freer,
and love... love is sweeter.

Friday, March 20, 2009

They Said

sorry, its kind of lame, but oh well.

They said:
"Write about what you know."
But what do I know?
"You tell us."
I know dragons and dwarves and fairies and fire elves.
"No you don't. They don't exist."
Prove it.
"Write something about yourself."
Why me?
"You know you."
I don't.
"Share yourself with the world."
Who am I?
"Only you can answer that question."
How?
"Find the answer through writing."
So I did.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A Love Long Gone

I can feel the distance pushing between us
Like the wall of a wave waiting
To crash ashore and erase all the pleasant memories
Of a love long gone.
You're moving farther away
Not in miles but
In emptiness,
In silence,
In time.
Your memory is not fading
Like a photograph, but becoming less significant
Like a wound that in time will heal.
But this won't heal,
You can't fix what was never broken,
Just not meant to last.
The page has been turned, revealing
A new chapter, with new characters,
Still I search for your name.
Does the story continue
With a rekindled flame?
Or do we slowly drift farther apart
Until we see only specks on the horizon,
Left only with lingering thoughts of
The past,
The present,
The future?
The future that was once ours
Becomes a dark tunnel
That we must feel our way through,
For our previous plans have been shattered.
Distances filled with
One word answers,
Loss of interest,
And forgotten feelings.
Regrets and relief
Fill my head
While only memories laden with dust
Fill my heart.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Angels, Dreams, and Flying

weve been reading the house on mango street in school and i really like sandra cisnero's style of writing her poetry in "vignettes" so i figured id give it a try cuz ive been exploring all sorts of different poetry lately so i wrote my very own vignette. its nothing like sandra cisnero's, but i really enjoyed writing it, its a little more free than other forms of poetry i think. anyway, i spose ill stop rambling and type the poem already.

post script: i followed cisnero's thing of not using quotes so there are now quotes just so ya know.



she stood on the edge of a dream, dark, curly hair, creamy skin. i tilted my head to the side, asked her who she was, how far had she come, why all the other times, she had run?

i'm your guardian angel, she replied, i'm always nearby.

but you're so young, younger than me, and she smiled.

maybe that's cause i never had a guardian angel, maybe mine... forgot. her eyes became shiny, dark brown eyes, they became shiny. a tear broke free in the corner, tiptoed down her cheek, fell to the ground but just kept on falling, this dream had no ground. nothing solid anyway.

wait, i called, aren't i supposed to be the one crying, with you watching?

yes, but that's why i'm here, i need your help.

you need my help? but what can i do?

so much, she whispered, so much. you see, my wings have been clipped, i can no longer fly for my wings are clipped now.

what is it like to fly? normally that's how these dreams end, you know, with me flying away.

those dreams were my favorite too.

is it really like the dreams?

i don't remember, she shakes her head, i really cant remember. another tear falls and falls and falls and echoes deep and long and wide. is it possible to feel pity for your own guardian angel? my own eyes tear up but none of them fall, they don't break past the dam in the corner of my eye. my carefully built dam.

how can i help?

you can need me, you can take down those walls, for they caused my wings to be clipped.why the walls? you're special, you just don't know it yet, but those walls make it worse, they only hide you, not change you. they make it seem like i'm not needed, but i am, and i can see that, you do need me.

alright, i whisper,

what?

alright, alright, alright! ill do it! for you, though, only for you.

thank you, and she stepped back, out of the dream, gone. and then the dream dissolved away and the sun began to rise outside my window. the walls crumbled and i finally truly knew what it was like to fly.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Who I Am?

ok, this is kind of in the style of some of ellen hopkin's poetry, you read it top to bottom first, then read the side words (right) top to bottom, they both tell a story.


Lost in a current of people,
no one looks her in the eye.
They're all hiding something,
someone.

Do the people feel alone too?
Feel as if, even with an army
at their back, they'd still be
fighting

a battle alone inside of them.
Deep inside where no one
can see, no one can tamper

with
her feelings, but once inside
she finds that she is against
a whole new kind of enemy-

herself.
There is a struggle inside of
her that even she is unable to
take sides. Her two souls fight
over
every obstacle that life gives
her. She just wants to know
the answer. Is there anyone

who
will help her know which side
is right and which side is
wrong? Is this a battle

she
may never win, even when
she's fighting against herself?
In the end, will there ever

truly
be an answer? Inside, she
has lost her way, and doesn't
know where (who?) she
is.

Done

I guess you could look at this one multiple ways, it could be the voice of the devil, or of something equally as evil...

Don't ever think you'll be free
Of my bonds. I am stronger. You'll
Never forget the way I whisper in your
Ear, calling you. I am never far away...

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Pain

Please don't make it go
Away, its all i have left. My
Instant distraction to cloud out
Neglected hidden emotions inside.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Rain and Tears

a post! a poetry post! a glorious, long awaited, poetry post! the first of 2009, might i add. so here is to a great new year filled with music, poetry, and love, all you really need in life.

The tears in your eyes
Glisten
Like the rain, the rain that
Whispers
Outside my window, the rain that
Spills
Upon the flawless glass. The rain
Reminds
Me of your dark, sorrowful eyes,
Pleading
For help, the tears they
Gather
In the corner, until they
Fall
Upon your cheek, down,
Released
To earth, telling it of your
Failure,
My failure, our failure, we
Are
the inside and the outside... of me.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Emptiness Waiting For The Lord

since i cant write any poems worthy for posting, i will just write about my thoughts lately. this is mostly from a recent convo with a friend, hope you enjoy it!
*note the time posted, i have insomnia tonight for some reason, sorry!

Love isn't always a bad thing.
Tonight at overflow (a Christian worship service) they told us to walk up to this board and write something we want to give up to the Lord on its blank surface where the bright highlighter showed up garishly in the black light. When i walked up, i wrote "emptiness" really small off to the side. I sat down and i prayed, wondering why i chose the word emptiness for what i wanted to give up to the Lord. Then i prayed that the Lord could take that emptiness in me and fill it with His love, i prayed that He could fill it with a heart, a soul, and a conscience. It really made me realize that even if we don't always think love, or having a conscience, or a heart bound to be broken is a good thing, it is. Even that emptiness is good, because it is a space begging the Lord to be filled. Love always has an up side and a down side, you just have to love "love" for what it is.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Apology

i apologize sincerely for the recent lack of poetry filling this month's archive, as you know it is the holiday season and a very busy one for all of us. it is also a very stressful month with not much time to think. now keep in mind i am not attempting to give you lame excuses, only reasons. the main problem is not that i havent been writing, but more that i have been writing just for myself, so i felt you didnt really want to read the poems i have written, and some i just didnt feel the need to share with the world. once again, i do apologize, and hopefully soon i will have more poems up. maybe i will make that my new years resolution, you never know...
happy holidays,
peace
emi.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Mockingbird

i wrote this for a project in skewl, if you havent read to kill a mockingbird, then it probably wont make much sense to you, but even if you havent, you can see how it would relate to real life too.

The mockingbird sings all day,
Beautiful music for all to hear.
The mockingbird cries all night,
The earth absorbs each quiet tear.
The mockingbird sings from its heart,
A sad, mournful ditty.
But the people hear no words,
The people feel no pity.
The mockingbird sings out of love,
The mockingbird sings for the people.
The mockingbird’s song is beautiful,
It sings like the bells of the steeple.
Then the people hear a lie,
Then the people quickly anger.
This puts the innocent bird
In unnecessary danger.
The mockingbird must hide,
The mockingbird falls silent.
The mockingbird is shot
By people much too violent.
The mockingbird no longer sings,
The mockingbird is gone.
The earth still mourns its loss,
There is silence each new dawn.
The mockingbird used to sing,
Each morning at this time.
The mockingbird used to reply
To the gentle church bell’s chime.
Such a sin to kill this mockingbird,
For all it did was sing.
A new song fills the air,
As a young mockingbird takes wing.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Inner War


flash of red, ocean of white,

red overpowers as ocean fades from sight.

how low i have stumbled, down on my knees,

im calling for help, anyone, please.

and yet i am silent, too scared to speak,

i dont want to give in, i dont want to look weak.

white's coming back, im lost in its mist,

will it ever go away, why must it persist?

the red and the white are always at war,

theyre so present and relentless, it's hard to ignore.

the red, hot as hell, the white, cold as ice,

they both come rushing in with each deep slice.

in dissonance and harmony, together and apart,

red and white will be forever vying for my heart.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Despite Imperfection

Battered Soul
With heart black as coal
Unshed Tears
Nothing's as it appears
Hidden Scars
From what was once ours
Forgotten Love
From days only dreamt of
Spoken Lies
Given away by the eyes
Imperfect Life
Where mistakes are rife
Inside And Out
My heart's filled with doubt
That You Love Me
These thoughts are of many
Flawed Being
Is what you aren't seeing
Needing To Know
Despite imperfection, can love still grow?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

At My End


Momentary lapse of reason brought me here to this place,

Every mistake i ever made led to my great fall from grace.

Once so collected, now im a mess,

Hiding a me no one could guess.

Was it love, was it loss? Was it something unknown?

What started it all? Who threw the first stone?

A forsaken chest where a heart used to dwell,

Is now a gaping black hole resembling that of Hell.

I cannot name the instant that all this came to be,

When my love hath left me and my heart began to flee.

All i know now is that im empty as a poor girls hands,

Hurting alone in forgotten lands.

Will i ever open up, learn to live again,

Or will i die here, lost and bleeding at my end?

Friday, November 14, 2008

The Keys


the key to the past is lost, the key to the future, hidden

those gates are closed and locked, to enter is forbidden

you're stuck here whether you like it or not

just don't give the past another thought

move on towards the future without knowing whats ahead

but please, with caution you must tread

because, in truth, there is no one right answer

that myth still spreads like a terrible cancer

nobody knows everything, nobody sees it all

everyone is as blind as you as they continue to crawl

so forget the keys, they're long, long gone

just wake up each day and accept the dawn

Thursday, November 13, 2008

TWLOHA


ok, now i realize that this poem is a repost (or whatever you call it) but i just thought it was fitting because i wrote it completely off of the story of TWLOHA and since today is world-wide to write love on her arms day, i figured i could post it again. i proudly wore my TWLOHA shirt today and wrote love largely across my (right) forearm. i think it was a great way to spread awareness because i explained the story and the purpose to at least ten people today, so it was a very purposeful day. anyway, here is the poem... again.

she needs love,
you can see it in her eyes.
her broken little heart
cant take anymore lies.

she may be touched,
she may be abused.
she feels unloved,
she feels so used.

she may deal with it with drugs,
or maybe she uses the knife.
its the only thing she knows,
and it controls her life.

a painful childhood?
or something more recent?
she shares it with no one,
she knows no one decent.

she is taken advantage of,
she is beat and then raped.
they're not her mistakes,
yet its her life they've shaped.

it just isn't fair
to let her die this way.
give her a reason to smile
and shell live another day.

rescue is possible,
she can be saved.
don't you think she deserves a chance
after all that she has braved?

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Sink

All i can seem to figure is that i must have woken up and written this at like 2 am cuz i just woke up one morning, and there it was in my notebook, my own handwriting and everything, so i must have been very sleepy at the time, but here it is.

the words arent coming, nothings flowing,
im diving in, still not knowing.
words cant describe it, ive nothing to say,
if i tried to speak, it wouldnt matter anyway.
it wont change how i feel, change how i think,
it wont affect whether i float or sink.
is that a bad thing, or is it all for the better?
will nothing ever change, will my feet just get wetter?
ive jumped the cliff, ive walked the plank,
down through the air, and can you imagine, i sank!
i hit the water and i began to drown,
down to the depths i went. down. down. down.

My Time Is Limited

My
Temporary place
In this human case
Might not last long
Enough to right all the wrong
Is Limited

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Choose

this is just about making decisions in life, good or bad, i guess. it always seems like in life it seems like youre short on time when you have to make a decision, they always seemed rushed, which leads to mistakes...

the clock is ticking,<<<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>time's running out,
you've got to decide,<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>there's no time for doubt.
which path will you choose?<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>its all up to you,
this determines your fate,<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>and others too.
so make your choice,<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>and make it now,
choose a path,<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>and take a vow.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Exposed

Ok, i just want to make one thing clear about this poem, it is an interior monologue between me, myself, and i, nobody else is included, so please dont read it and think "oh no, is she blaming me...?" because i am only yelling at myself in it.

eyes glistening, composure crumbling
defenses down, feet are stumbling
heart on your sleeve, thoughts in the air
armor removed, advance you dont dare
careful with your words, you start to speak
extremely exposed, you begin to look weak
what could have happened, what went so wrong
that youre torn open wide, you no longer belong
i thought you wanted the mask removed
youre a coward and a loser, thats all that was proved
the mask should have stayed, that was a mistake
now im responsible for the choices i make
its all your fault, what were you thinking
because of you, im slowly sinking
im falling apart, piece by piece
my feelings were lost since their release
now that theyre gone, im running away
ive been exposed, now from me i will stray

Monday, November 3, 2008

I Search For You, Lord

Where are You when I need You?
Have You yet ran away?
Call out to me, oh God,
Just get me through the day.
I come to You in servitude,
Offer myself to Thee.
But when I needed You most,
Your face I could not see.
I'm not ungrateful, Lord,
Nor am I angry with You.
It's just that I search,
Please give me a clue.
I want to find You, Lord,
With all of my heart.
I've been looking and looking,
And I don't know where to start...

Friday, October 31, 2008

My Own Little World

ok, ok, i realize reading this now, it might make me sound like a little bit of a whack-job, so, sorry about that, but whatever i don't really care what you think about me, so here's the poem.

alone isn't so bad, i like it in fact,
'cause when you're alone, all image is cracked.
you are yourself, there's no pretending,
there's no drama, the world's not ending.
time slows down, comes to a stop,
life isn't a blur, no deadline's about to drop.
i never feel lonely, always in my own world,
my own creation, imagination unfurled.
love doesn't exist, only a shadow,
loss isn't a worry, no calls from the death crow.
loneliness is a myth, a story told in books,
here, everything isn't based on looks.
when i'm alone, the perfect world forms in my mind,
back out in the real world, its qualities are hard to find.
so ill stay in my world, alone and content,
until from the real world, good news is sent.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Mirror, Mirror

mirror, mirror, on the wall,
do you really see it all?
or just what i decide to show?
its the inside of me youll never know.

is the image on top what is best,
or is seeing my soul the real test?
what is wrong with hiding your heart?
it leaves no chance of tearing it apart.

inside of me, my heart is safe,
on my sleeve it begins to chafe.
with the image ive constructed carefully,
the person i pretend to be.

the mirror sees nothing but the me of ice,
a mirror of the soul, i think would be nice.
but thats not quite the way it works,
underneath the image, the real me lurks.

but the mirror doesnt see this,
there are details that mirrors tend to miss.
the love and the loss, the smiles and tears,
the plans of the future, the hopes and the fears.

so mirror, mirror, in front of me,
no longer show who i pretend to be.
show me me torn open wide,
and show the world my other side.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Walls That Kept Me In

im sick of the mask, im sick of the walls, i realized now that not only were they keeping people out, but they were keeping me in. they were no longer my protection, but instead, they had become my prison. when i wanted to break free and show the world the me i really am, whether that be a better or worse (more likely) person than i show, well i found i couldnt. maybe im weak, maybe the mask was stronger than i thought, but i just couldnt do it. i want to be me for once in my life, and when i go looking, its like im not even there anymore. what happened to me? well, ive made a vow, im going to find her if its the last thing i do...

my mask of ice, my walls of stone
have kept you out, left me alone.
theyve done their job, my construction unfailing,
protected me from harm, from all the assailing.
no one saw past them to the real me,
but then, what happens when she wants to get free?
they kept you out, but likewise, they keep her in,
she wants to emerge, show you the person within.
but she cant break the casing, shes been there too long,
shes tried and shes tried, but theyre just too strong.
the person of ice is still in her place,
she stands outside, with a heavily masked face.
no matter what she does, nothing crumbles,
she took a wrong turn, and somewhere, she stumbles.
she realizes now, the walls were a mistake,
she should have been herself, not something fake.
how can she escape now that shes trapped behind the walls
that she built with her own hands, can she hear my desperate calls?
she thought it was well planned, she never thought of escape,
she wants to break free, take on her own shape.
but now she is imprisoned, she found a major flaw,
how can she destroy the mask, cause the ice to thaw?
what happens when it does, should she be afraid?
will she turn back to run, wish she would have stayed?
so long in the darkness, lost to the light,
when she enters the day, will it be too bright?
when she emerges, will we join hands,
combine to show the real us, despite the walls demands?
i will help her break free, i will tear off the mask,
i will show the world me even if it becomes my final task.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Strangers On The Street

i wrote this sitting in the window of a hotel room people watching. i dont know if any of you have ever just sat and "people watched" but i do it all the time, and most of the time it arises many questions that may never be answered, but i wonder them nonetheless...

twenty stories up, i stare out through glass,
people walking the streets, theyre moving so fast.
here i sit, safe from all dangers,
and im wondering about the lives of strangers.
what are they thinking, what are they feeling,
with what many problems are they dealing?
i dont know why i suddenly care, its all so confusing,
with so many problems of my own, why is it theirs that im musing?
will our paths ever cross, or will we never meet?
will i only ever see them 20 stories above the street?
where will life lead me, into their life?
will i cause them happiness, or will i just add to their strife?
i want to help, i want to change,
but if i do, who elses life will i rearrange?
will i kill or will i save,
will i block or will i pave?
i want to meet these people that im watching from above,
i want to learn to care, i want to learn to love.
would any of them help me, or are they too good for me?
if they were to look at me, what would they see?
i want to know these strangers, i want to learn their stories,
i want to hear their problems, listen to their worries.
there is not enough hours in the day, enough days in the year,
i may never know them, this much i fear.
why are we all strangers, caring only for our own?
we should reach out a hand, become someones home.
we should open our hearts, and share the love,
instead of just watching from a window up above.

Why Do I Always Have To Say Goodbye?

hmmm. not much to say about this one, i dont even know if it is completely true, maybe it just feels this way, i just dont know.

miles apart, day after day,
i never see you, you seem so far away.
where have you gone? when did you leave?
i used to love so much, now my hearts become a sieve.
we dont talk as much, and when we do, you seem so cold,
you told me once you loved me, am i to believe what ive been told?
does your love last forever, or does it change with the tide,
can i trust you with anything, is it to you can i confide?
i want to be with you, possibly even forever,
i dont want to lose you, not now, never.
why do i always have to say goodbye?
im just so tired of it, i want to know why.
why do i always have to say goodbye?

Sunday, October 12, 2008

When Words Become Insufficient

this is just a short little post turning something my friend wrote on her blog into a poem.
meckle- sorry for stealing your words, i hope you dont mind, they were just so powerful, i hope i did an ok job on turning them into a poem...

when words become insufficient, and silence fills the air,
do you speak with hugs, tears, expressions, breaths, song, or prayer?
does it actually need an answer, or is living truly enough?
i believe it is, though we tend to forget this when the road gets rough.
in the end, we may never be able to express every thought through speech,
this is one lesson that only life may be able to teach.
in those short six hours, life taught me a lot,
that with almost any gap, love can fill that spot.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Everyone Deserves To Be Loved

everyone deserves to be loved,
different amounts, sure, but loved all the same,
we were born to be loved,
though we dont always know it, love is our flame.
everyone was created to be loved,
as was, hopefully, Gods intent.
we all want to feel loved,
whether that love is given or lent.
everyone deserves to be loved,
if i say it enough i may begin to believe it.
i want to know im loved,
this much im able to admit.

My Secret Is Out

only one person is going to know what im talking about, obviously, but here it is...

my secret is out, why cant i say what i feel?
my secret is out and suddenly everything is real.
though i only told one person, i feel torn open wide,
my hearts on my sleeve, no need to confide.
my carefully constructed walls have crumbled,
now someone knows how very low i stumbled.
arent i sposed to feel like a weight has been lifted?
arent i sposed to feel grace has been gifted?
i feel nothing, nothing seems to have changed,
there have been ups and downs, ive felt loved and estranged.
but i still feel burdened, i still feel hidden,
always behind a mask, to show me is forbidden.
i feel like im different for each person im around,
nothing will have healed til the real me is found.
my secret is out, but secrets always loom,
i fear that all secrets lead to impending doom.

Monday, October 6, 2008

The Pond Of Reflection

this poem talks about the change that occurred in me over the past few months, idk if anyone else notices but i know ive changed, alot. although this poem talks about the face staring back at me, its actually the inside of me that has changed, so anyway, here it is.

as i stare into the reflective pond before me,
i ponder the face that stares back.
i no longer recognize, who is she?
she looks burdened, her shield about to crack.

i used to recognize the face that would return my stare,
there it was, everyday.
but when i search for that known face, its not there,
lost somewhere along the way.

what could have happened between then and now,
that would cause so many ripples in the pond?
there must have been a great change, but how?
without my noticing, like the wave of a wand.

the familiar face i loved is now gone,
replaced with a mask.
the new face is different, more... withdrawn.
"why?" i ask.

what could have happened that i must have missed?
what happened to her always-present smile?
why does she have fire in her eyes, a tightly clenched fist?
what could have changed her to be so hostile?

my theory is the little things building up inside,
ready to explode.
her many secrets in which no one to confide,
to no one she bestowed.

so now i stare into the pond with a face undoubtedly altered,
do others notice it too?
surely they cant know how she slipped up, all the times she faltered.
if only they knew...

The Stars

wow, lets see if this one makes any sense to you, cuz now that i read it, it seems more like me rambling on in rhyme than any real poem, but whatever, ill put it on here anyways.

i look to the sky as if it holds all the answers,
i look up to see all the bright sky dancers.
the stars twinkle down, attempting to smile,
the stars twinkle on, mile after mile.
is it they who hold the secrets of the universe?
if they do, is it us that they curse?
or are there bigger problems beyond our sight,
terrible things that may never be right?
we humans cant be the worst to exist,
the worst cant be among us, right here in our midst.
i dont want to believe it, i dont want it to be true,
how could the worst creature be in a league with me or you?
do the stars know whats waiting for us beyond?
if i call up to ask them, will they even respond?
or are the stars just really big balls of gases,
not living lovers that nothing surpasses?
goodbye to the stars i used to think were magic,
i understand now that this revelation is tragic.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

3 New Poems Of The Acrostic Nature That I Wrote...

For every time that you say "i love you", i return it 100 times
Over and over again. nothing has changed, not
Really, anyway. i still love you like i always did.
Everyday i think about you, i miss you so
Very, very much. promise me that well never
Ever drift apart? i never want to lose you, all i
Really want is to know that well be together...
forever?
To all those out there with a doubt in their mind; if you
Really loved them, there wouldnt be any room for
Uncertainty. if you want to be with them always,
Eager at the thought of seeing their face, then its true.

Desire grows stronger each day
I spend away from you. there is
Something about you, something
That i cant quite place.
All i know is that this
New something has caused me to
Change, i forget about distance and
Everything else, i forget about it for love...

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Where Did It Go?

i think a ton of people will agree with me when i ask, where did all the time go? im only 14 and i should have a lot of my life ahead of me, but you never know. where did all those days of being a kid with no responsibilities go? where did the cute little energetic kid named emi go? what happened?

flashes of the future mix with glimpses of the past,
i see no present day, it all flies by too fast.
how can i live in the moment when it travels at the speed of light?
i can hardly distinguish the difference between the day and night.
life has become one giant blur,
i begin to forget the way things were.
was life ever simple, or was that just a dream?
am i going crazy or is reality ripping at the seam?
where did all the youthful days go?
the answer i may never know.
im going to tell life to slow down, to stop!
i dont yet want to reach the top,
i want to live, i want to love,
before my soul goes up above.
life live to the fullest before you leave,
and the true meaning of life you may perceive.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Did You Know?

for a certain person, my question is, did you?

Did you know that when you held my hand and stroked it real light,
That for the moment i felt perfect, like everything was right?
When your lips caressed mine, even though i was nervous as hell,
It all came so naturally, my lips fit yours so well.
Did you know youre in my thoughts, more days than youre not?
Im glad to know that you too think about me a lot.
Every time i talk to you, a smile comes to my face,
And when im with you, there is no existence of time and space.
Did you know that no matter what happens between you and i,
That youll always be in my heart, until the day that i die?
I never want to lose you, i never want to watch you go.
Did you know that i love you? Did you know?

I Need You

im not trying to sound pathetic in this one, i wrote it after an important conversation... oh and its not very good cuz it was kinda late when i wrote it and i was kinda out of it so sorry.

when i see you,
instant trust,
i need your love,
it feels a must.

when i look into your
big brown eyes,
i see a heartfelt
promise of no lies.

youre the one i talk to,
you always listen,
even when with tears
my eyes start to glisten.

youre always there,
i hope it stays that way,
even though i know
there may come a day

when you no longer
want to be my friend,
i dont want you to leave,
our friendship to end.

youve promised me
once or twice
that that wont happen,
but it doesnt suffice.

i need proof,
more than just words,
i need you,
is that so absurd?

youve told me you love me
in the way i love you,
a not too romantic way,
just something so new.

i cant explain it,
the way that i feel,
i just know i need you
for it to be real.

the feeling is mutual,
this i now know,
as long as its true
that you wont go.

it helps to know
that you still love me,
and hopefully soon,
together well be.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

A Note To The Lost

um this is just kind of for anyone who needs to hear it, just trying to organize my thoughts, maybe it will help me as well, who knows?

crazed thoughts, calmed by the knife,
a good solution for a not-so-good life?
screaming thoughts, quieted by the knife,
but does it truly quiet the strife?
does it make sense of all things senseless,
or does it just leave you alone and defenseless?
the knife holds some power, but you hold much more,
it is your choice to enter or slam shut that door.
the knife does take no for an answer, as long as you persist,
keep giving in and its the devil youve kissed.
its hard to turn him down, this i understand,
but the love of the devil is no helping hand.
believe me, i know, before i have traveled this path,
keep on going and youll face his awesome wrath.
dont answer the call of that caressing blade,
dont fall head over heels for its tempting serenade.
find a helping hand, one of real flesh,
hold that helping hand, and you can start fresh.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The Devil, Emperor of Hell

this is just kind of the way i see the devil. it is also a metaphor for all the times in my life, especially recently, that i royally screwed up.

i shook hands with the devil today, his fingers long and cold,
his face positively ageless, he looked not young nor old.
he was tall and spindly, his skin surprisingly pale,
i tried to look into his mind, read his thoughts, only to fail.
his lips were white, his eyes black as coal,
when i gazed into his pupils, id fallen into a hole.
he had a red aura about him that clung to his body,
he carried himself confidently, he was humble yet haughty.
and his voice, his surprisingly beautiful voice,
i tried not to be impressed, but it seemed i had no choice.
his voice had a deep, melodious ring,
what i wouldnt give to hear the devil sing.
he introduced himself in that luscious voice like cream,
he was nothing like i pictured, nothing like in my dreams.
i tried to feel disgust, i tried to honor God,
but when he explained he was 'misunderstood' i could only nod.
speaking lie after lie, he pulled me in,
i became convinced, i know it was a sin.
im sorry Lord, it was hard to resist,
when the devil cant persuade with words, he persuades with a fist.
he beat me and punched me, so i knelt and prayed,
"im sorry my Lord, i shouldnt have stayed!"
i shouldnt have shaken his hand in the first place,
but once i did, i was hurled far past time and space.
he was the charming serpent, offering me the fruit,
only this time he was dressed in a pleasant human suit.
i cant believe i fell for it, well maybe i can,
but as soon as he introduced himself, i shouldve turned and ran.
curiosity kept me there, charm pulled me near,
i snuggled witht the devil, untroubled by his sneer.
i regret what ive done, i wish i could go back,
yet it remains unchanged, these certain powers i lack.
lifes not just a game, i leave you this advice,
ive told you my story, my moral, i hope this should suffice.
there is my small adage about the time i fell,
and was helped up by the devil, emperor of Hell.

Monday, September 22, 2008

On This Sad Day

this one is for my grandma. she died a year ago this day on September 22, 2007. i miss her very much, and this just kind of conveys that and more to her.

One year ago to this date i gazed upon your sleeping face,
it was the last time i saw you before you left this place.
i kissed your forehead and told you i loved you,
i dont know if you heard me, but i believe you already knew.

you walked through the gates of Heaven that night,
i hope you are comfortable there, i hope youre alright.
that night i knelt by my bed and prayed,
i talked to you in Heaven, i wish i could have stayed.

i missed you terribly, but you told me not to fret,
you never left my thoughts, my eyes were always wet.
that next week was hard, my aunt left us too,
she was a great woman, though she never met you.

i took everyones grievances with a silent nod,
i wondered if He needed you, "why?" i asked God.
i never got an answer, but in my heart i knew,
though we thought we needed you, He needed you too.

were doing ok, but this past year has been hard,
were living one step at a time, taking it by the yard.
i hope youve been watching, though i dont always make you proud,
i slipped up a few times, lifes so fast and so loud.

im sorry for the things i do that make you sad,
they werent all my fault, but i still feel bad.
like i said, its been a difficult year,
at least once a night, i shed you a tear.

im not the only one, we all miss you so,
you were too good for this earth, im just sad you had to go.
so ill just keep living through and sending you my love,
i really hope it reaches you all the way up above.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Fall

Um idk, just a random poem about the beautiful peaceful season of fall.

summer ends, bells ring,
days lengthen, birds sing.
colors change, the air cools,
rain gathers in muddy pools.
the world is tinted brown,
life slows, leaves float down.
life is peaceful and serene,
subtle changes are easily seen.
fall is both beautiful and sad.
fall is both good and bad.
looking back to other falls,
they fly by, winter calls.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Mask

um just kind of a little bit about me... idk, just kinda sat down and wrote this without thinking, ive been seeming to do that alot lately.

i wear a mask most everyday,
the true me is hidden behind the things i do or say.
i never let my true self show,
i hide the me i dont want you to know.

my soul is tortured, but youll never see,
i hide the crying girl inside of me.
my face shows not the pain in my heart,
it only comes out in my poems and my art.

its better for you not to see this side,
to see all the loss, all the tears ive cried.
id rather you know me the way i appear,
the me without sadness, the me without fear.

id rather hide beneath my mask than reveal
the heartbreak ive had, the ache that i feel.
so remember me the way that youve been shown,
because the real me youll have never known.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Im Only Dreaming

this is just kind of a random one that i wrote when i was thinking about dreams... they really are puzzling things, i dont really know why we have them, sometimes they are important and they tell you something but other times you never figure them out and they seem totally pointless. strange.

im floating in a world different from my own,
yet i know alot about the place, more than what is shown.
sometimes i recognize where i am standing,
and other times im falling, with no hope of landing.
sometimes im surrounded by unfamiliar faces,
but sometimes im alone, in unfamiliar places.
many times im scared, many times im lost,
usually theres a task, a raging river to be crossed.
im jumping off a cliff, im running through the streets,
sometimes im accompanied by voices, other times just strange beats.
and sometimes theres complete silence, the scariest of them all,
the quiet usually joins me during a hit or fall.
im scared, im trembling, im probably shaking,
the thought doesnt cross me of possibly waking.
until i realize, im only dreaming,
and, by then the tears are streaming.
tears of relief, tears of fright,
are there for comfort in the middle of the night.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

To Write Love On Her Arms

here is another one i wrote for twloha. hope you like it.

love is written on her wrist,
i know theres a story behind it.
her eyes reflect the pain shes hiding,
they also show you the high that shes riding.
she an addict and a cutter, thats her life,
they help her deal with all the strife.
but dont judge so soon, she has a past,
looking at her life, im surprised that she could last.
none of its her fault, they werent her choices,
it all happened so fast, she couldnt stop the voices.
she had two addictions, the knife and the drug,
they both could have been cured with just one hug.
one act of love, one person to care,
and her entire life, shed be able to bear.
is it really that hard to reach out a hand?
it could all be erased, its written in sand.
give her the love shes entitled to,
and she will most surely make it through.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Faith

i was just kind of looking back on all the things that happened to me this summer, good and bad, and i was wondering how the heck i made it through everything, and i realized, it was my faith. i prayed every single night this summer, im not like hugely religious, but i really went looking for God this summer when i needed him most. some of my prayers lasted almost an hour and i really think God listened to every single thing i told him. he listened and he answered, and that is how i managed to live through this summer.

Faith is important when youve lost your way,
itll see you through to another day.
when your going through life completely blind,
toughen your faith, its God you should find.

He will help you through the toughest times,
He forgives you your sins, He overlooks your crimes.
faith is better than any map,
you take a wrong turn, Gods got your back.

He'll help you sail the roughest storms,
He comes to you in many forms.
have faith in Him, He lives in you,
He knows your strength, all you can do.

if you have faith, you survive it all,
God will catch you when you fall.
in all darkness, faith is a light,
when life gets mean, faith wins the fight.

Someday

figure it out yourself, i dont feel like explaining.

Someday
nows not the time, in a couple years,
im proud i can say it without any tears.
im not all the sad, cuz i know that someday,
we might be together, we might find a way.
i still feel the love, i still feel the ache,
i'll still miss you, these feelings youll make.
but i can ignore them for a little while,
no matter what, youll still make me smile.
youll still be the person that i want to talk to,
be the one to cheer me up when im feeling blue.
and then someday, later along,
we may find each other, our life together may go on.
nothings for sure, but its enough for me,
someday well find out if we were meant to be.
who might we meet along the way?
someone who will change our someday?
as long as were both happy, even if were apart,
thats enough for me, my new life will start.
ill hang onto that thread of our "maybe someday..."
that may sound pathetic, but what else can i say?

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Nine-Eleven

i wrote this in honor of september 11th, some of it is memories, some of it is thanking all the heroes that day, and some of it is directed to those responsible for the horrible loss. i was just trying to make some sense of why they would do such a thing. i guess we may never know.

we didnt see it coming, we could have never known,
it affected so many families, children left on their own.
we had to point a finger, find someone to blame,
though he wasnt in this alone, we all know his name.
can you blame one person for so many deaths?
destroying families, taking precious breaths?
we all know the date, its burned in our head,
we remember it as the day that left too many dead.
we saw it on the news, it shocked us all,
we saw the planes crash, we saw them fall.
we saw the twin towers go up in flames,
we saw the faces captured in the freeze frames.
i didnt lose anyone, and yet i was sad,
we all felt that way or way, we all felt so bad.
i thank the firefighters and all those who save,
you did a great deed, you were so brave.
and i pity the terrosists, ones who celebrated the day,
why did you do this, was it the only way?
do you not care about the lives you took?
not to mention the ones that lived, the ones you shook.
half of them are traumatized, the other half dead,
actions speak louder than words, but what could you have said?
nothing will make up for the act you commited,
i hope you die lonely, that would seem fitted.
do you feel remorse for those youve hurt?
a building holding thousands of people is now a hole in the dirt.
what did you want? world war three?
we came pretty damn close i hope you see.
but its over now, 7 years past,
were trying to forgive you for when you trespassed.
not into our country but into our lives,
you killed lots of children, husbands, and wives.
so on this anniversary please remember those lost,
what was accomplished? and what was the cost?
think of those people up there in Heaven,
mourning the tragedy of nine-eleven.