AT THE MOMENT
COLLEGE is killing me. this sucks.
SCHOOL, it's so interrupting
I have an exam tomorrow, wish me luck. So, there will be better stuff to come after I pass this exam!
I just want to share the peculiar things, that at 3 o’clock in the morning, I find on the internet— appreciation of my thought. I guess I have to appreciate myself. That’s hardly the easy way, right? You would will me to be head strong, get over it. move on. Everything garnered by logic, as it should be. I take obnoxiously long drives in the country, trying...
Puddle thinking Imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, “This is...– (Douglas Adams)
Sitting Two Down, Anticipating
I made a mistake; I see that now. You’re hardly the person I thought that you could be, my own fallacy. I’ve know for a while that dreams can only be dreams, an answer so resolute that I can hardly touch its razor edges. You’re a perfect, appropriate example it seems. Had I seen a semblance of your devout caring, I may have reconsidered this...
Orange Camoflage Tents and Other Oddities
I was writing letters. I was dipping the pen in ink, and all I can remember is throwing those papers away. Your kisses were letting me know that someone could love me so, laying your head upon mine. You were so divine; now you’re always in my mind. I was never worried. I was sure you were fine, and mine. I was never afraid of loosing your love someday. She...
The Moon on Tuesdays
Flicker, quicker, feeling sicker a stone in my bed of dust the days I checked the growth of grass, my feelings, my content fell to rust. Holy life, abstracted we see a frail, pale surviving idea flailing.
slimmest changes chances of geography slipping or mending a sudden overlap of tectonic plates overoptimistic I can picture the view from satellite signals the meteorologist forecasting miracles only a fool can believe can perceive the lie within truths
An Orchestra to Live By
The violins, you could feel the trembling sound waves from the rattling stone bench. You were attracted to those cracks on the paving stones, bringing your nose closer to the ground. The violins, over there where presumably he was, situated atop the marble veranda, somewhere so beautiful, it burns your mind, and where he uttered those...
I made excuses for myself. Not the typical, “My dog ate my homework!” My excuses were complicated pieces, like the individual pixels of a photo taken by a Nikon D90. They added up quickly in the rapid succession of an assembly line. If I could not grasp the guilt of one, I had plenty of others to substitute. I remember my mother asking one day, “Why do you do this to...
Gazebos and You
Wax drips onto the body of night, slowly, searing, until you don’t remember the dimensions of life. The lid’s been capped and I’m stuck boiling, stewing in the liquids extracted from me for you, completely overlapped with a filmy haze the sweet, shining potentials emanating from me for you.
I could spend days watching La Blogotheque’s take away shows. This is a vid of Fiery Furnaces on a CAROUSEL, it’s pretty awesome. I was drawn in so much by their rhythmic percussion beats.
Our happiness depends on the habit of mind we cultivate. So practice happy...– Norman Vincent
Courtney Love, etc.
We carved our names in the granite picnic benches that sat behind the cafe. Your head folded toward your chest. Somehow that escaped my notice. I ripped my jeans, foolishly enjoying jumping over the fence that separated the lot from our neighborhood’s street. Our excited voices carried over the pavement and pine needles, floating to combine with the sounds of a small city. An airplane...
I rediscovered poetry, like it’s an old friend of mine— someone I never thought of much, but realized after they forgot that the thing they never gave mind was truly interesting and beloved. For every piece a thought, every line a complex of desire, of a need for meaning, a guide to my soul and body
“I can’t come up with something serious,” she said openly. What she could have meant, he never remembered the reasoning. He was standing, back faced to the audience—what felt like a crowd examining his pores. His hands trembled; he could not escape that determined, exciting hail of sentiments. His feet wanted to leap. It took every ounce of bravery and control to...
I didn’t do the simple task, thinking they would laugh over the phone. As I walked the camellias, read prophecies, strutted over soft concrete, and conversed with dresses, the catch of the lock no longer remained to bear down my temples. Now, realizing my own rejection, rather than a stranger’s, I can hear the turning mechanisms of a door opening.
Emiliana Torrini - Nothing Brings Me Down Grab a...
Stubborn, standing in the old leaves from fall, he only stares and there I stomp over, dragging him back. No matter how I call with simple sweetness, or the clipped words of anger, he looks to say it is beautiful outside! it is warm and glorious! all while I force him back to the dim inside, back to the lukewarm air. Now we sit far from each other, crossed eye...
I’ve spent all night, every little second distracting myself, hoping I won’t notice that I can’t stop. Only my fingers twitch, just to type the words, implying my problem. Is it my need for drama? I’ve been pretty good, at forcing everything out through vigorous shower cleaning and rigorous laundry washing. I will never make you a sandwich, ...
“Orange Sky” - Alexi Murdoch ...
Your attention, please.
Smoke doesn’t give shadows; it just blows away through the crevices, filling everything, lingering only in a soft, trace scent. …. Sage gives you sacred space. What is sacred? What is sacred anymore between us? Left behind us. …. I thought I could do it all. I was smart, brave, and tall. So how do I find the way you made me feel? …. It took...
Rachel, Smiling Mary Rachel
We switched the flowers out, something so simple, yet territorial. We try to proclaim, “We loved her! We loved her the most!” Her lips painted red kissed our cheeks, each day a different hug. Ever now, we ache, etch a silver quarter in our mind. I regret what I’ll regret more later. She trailed flowers wherever she stepped.
I’m basically setting this up for my collection of poems and random inspiring things. I really need a place to catalog my works in a pretty setting :) Well, here goes nothing.