Disgusted

the night, so much lighter than this day,
it is enveloping and safe
thought-provoking

the night, it knows no limits
to its darkness, its evil

the night, i have seen it unfold,
like the oncoming of a storm
so soft and angry
and passionate

the night, seeing the colors of the day fade,
in shadows and grays
i have known the fullness of grays
and taught the darkness to whisper
treading lightly on life

the night, it backdrops
the harshness of uncertainty,
it understands the tilting of the earth
and the questioning of its movements

the night, forever contrasting sunlight.

This Is Just To Say

Today in English, we were told to do a parody of William Carlos Williams. You know, this is just to say, I have eaten the plums, that were in the icebox, and which you were probably saving, for breakfast, forgive me, they were delicious, so sweet and so cold.

As you may also know. Yearbook is killing me. Social aspects. So here is a completely random, and less than humorous parody about those problems.

This Is Just To Say

I have encountered the Truth
On this lonely road you have made me
Travel
Forgive me, it is imploring
the truth
from my pen

That tan which everyone insisted
was a Healthy brown
really did make you
look like an oompah-loompah
Short, Orange, and Annoying

And I have made jests
About your eyebrows
Colliding like the
Huge freight trains they are
Playing chicken

This is just to say
That masquerade that was our
Friendship
Is Gone
Like my benign feelings

This is just to say
I’m not happy that you made editor
I hope you get swallowed up in
The Two Great Cheeks
That you wasted your life kissing

Chlorine has ruined your hair
Keeping it clean?
I’m a-frayed knot

All those friends that chlorine brought you
I have spoken to
You’ve driven them all away
With your back-stabbing nature and soulless eyes

Behind big brown eyes
Calculating, devouring
Talent in the black hole that is your personality
You are transparent
Like the moon

This is just to say
I’m tired of being your sun
I have gone behind your back
Like you did me so long ago
And now every time that name
Escapes your lips
I smirk. So cold.
Your future is as hopeless as
Your eyebrows
The Truth.

Groseclose Window

Window as obsolete as I

With individual panes and portals

Each curved glass carefully placed

Reflecting the inner turmoil

Centered on communication between two halves

Like parts of me that do not see the meaning

Hidden in the prisms of craftsmanship

Tribute to the futility of self-inspection

Window mobilized by ancient ropes

Disguised by the curtain call

Sliding heavenward and hellward

As fluidly as my scandalous moods

Masking the abuse of time

Window of my idolization

Mecca of my pondering

Where natural gods can be peered upon

And dust motes read as tea leaves

Divining the truth of insignificance

Mirroring miniscule infinity

My own abyss is my awareness

The numberless stars I can count

Window, the universe is tiny in your grasp

And yet compared to that universe

You and I are black atoms

Just as replaceable with as easy a division

If man can split I from your dark grains

Then my hold on this world

Is as greased as your mechanisms

Heart's age is our betrayer

March 2, 2008

I've been concentrating on ideals recently, although I believe to even call them that retracts some of their mystic powers. I cannot understand how we as a society have segregated ourselves into two subcategories as if God were to open his great creature index flip to 'human race' and pull out two manila envelopes packed with names and say "Hmm, do I want an idealist today or a cynicist?" Life is os full of hollow concerns, complaints. When am I going to realize that I can dump this baggage? Boyfriends, clothes, iPods, cars, television and the internet. It has to go. I have to get my priorities straight. I've got to stop saying I'm an idealist and start acting like one. Live by testimony.

I'm so confused with everything right now. ACT, college, driving, Prom, Yearbook editor. As if any of these things are detrimental .

Today I watched love fall apart

Today I watched love fall apart
Chink into tiny stacks
Of nickels and dimes
Gone
Each one
Hitting a different
Tangy note inside
My soul
Nickels
Nickels
Dimes
Dimes
Heartbreak
Love
Gone
Each stack
Reiterating the
Truth of a Dead Soul

Shakespeare's Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

What If You Knew by David Rovics

If you knew that the earth was dying
If they said this on the news
If they would clarify the picture
Instead of seeking to confuse
If you could see the ice caps melting
If you could watch the oceans rise
If you could see the consequences
Right before your eyes
If you knew the kids were dying
If you could look inside
The river where their food comes from
Filled with cyanide
If you could hear the parents pleading
If they were looking right at you
If you could see the anguish in their hearts
What if you knew

If you knew the bombs were falling
If they showed them hit the ground
If you could see the bodies flying
If you could hear the sound
If you could see the rubble
Where the hospital once stood
If you saw the child's lifeless limbs
Would you hold them if you could
If you knew that they were lying
Every time they spoke
For every laser-guided pinprick
There were lives lost in the smoke
If instead of just the generals
They had doctors, too
To describe the carnage of the cluster bombs
What if you knew

If you knew what they were saying
When they think you cannot hear
If you understood what they do
If for you it was so clear
If you knew they shut down the factory
In an economic ruse
If you could kiss the cheek of the child
In the sweatshop that made your shoes
If every time we went to war
To fight our evil foes
They told you we were really fighting
For the good of CEOs
If you could feel the hunger of the many
And see the riches of the few
If they told it like it is
What if you knew

If you knew that you were living
In a huge conspiracy
Would you leave your suburbs
Get out of your SUV
Would you hit the streets
And fight for all our lives
Would you hold your ground
When the stormtrooper arrives
If you knew that the whole planet
Depended on what you do now
Would you take command
With the speed our times allow
If the pundits told the truth
For just a week or two
And real life was shown on TV
What if you knew

Two Keys and a Brass Hairpin

Standing in front of the case
In arcade 8
Archaeologists found the bodies of 7 slaves
Fleeing from the 1000 degree magma surge
Caught in a doorway
Among them, they had only
Two keys and a brass hairpin
No door belonged to them
So as they ran for their lives
Duty demanded that these seven be ready
To let a commanding owner back into his home
Brass hairpin- treasured ornament of hope
These sacred objects were hidden in a corner
Basking in the shadow of a beautiful mural
A testimony to the fact that they will always
Be remembered as slaves dominated by a more civilized people
Hundreds of years later, an equally civilized nation,
Passes by and forgets the truth of history
Slavery never dies, even in the capitol of civil rights

The War

She is asking me the answer
That is dancing outside of her sight
It is war, I said
It is war and he is winning
But she refuses to realize the damage
Flank attack
Knife in the back
And my foot pushes a cracked board
Back into its place

Another conquest fills his scheming soul
The job has been replaced and refined
Nuturing is now the only source of a nonexistent income
Different driveway for the Silver Bullet
The smell of canine pervades my space
It is war and he is winning

The bank
The arch nemesis of Bonnie and Clyde
Is seizing and squeezing
Putting the end to a family heirloom
Causing the use of a flimsy box
A single denunciation of the nobility
The royalty of the family
He has smeared our name
It is war and he is winning

The desk rocks back and forth
What are you doing this weekend?
Watching the world end
Like it does every weekend
Throwing a goodbye party
For my flaky shaky childhood
While she drinks her cabinet liquor
It is war and he is winning

The War of Broken Hearts
The National Guard has taken the staples
Stolen the supplies like oxygen
To shriveled lungs and deprived minds
Terror grapples with me
The end is near
We are basking in the penultimate battle
Offering the resistance
What of the elimination of a society
A colony of the heart
It is war and he has won

Yearbook's Torment

Awful. Much rending of clothes.

Yearbook.

No school yet...

Yearbook.

Now I'm living and breathing

Yearbook.

My life has become my school work.

Where did my thoughts go?

Like the dripping of rain

down a pipe

drip

drip

Now

it

is

gone.

drip

drip

drip

I'm

lost

in a world

of scholars

and college applications.

Trying to make my future

my chance at individuality

and yet

I feel as if I've misplaced

my purpose.

Forgotten my motivation.

It just drizzled away.

Down the pipes

like

drip

drip

drip

....