oh, the nerve!

I haven't written a poem in a while, so here are some old ones that I didn't have the guts to post before.

Your arms wrapped around my stomach
I laid my head on your chest
And felt your heart beat with mine.
Where were the butterflies?
Had I forgot the promise for love?
This guilt I feel does not belong
I feel dirty, I think.
But you wrap your arms tighter
And I push my thoughts down deeper
The feeling of your lips pressed on mine
Doesn't live up to expectations
Your beard hurts more with my regret present
And your smell stays in my nostrils
And causes my breath to leave
My heart to hurt
And my self to hate me.


We grew up.
We grew different.
I stayed childlike.
You grew up without me.
I look at the world through stain glassed windows
You stare at your broken family and the whole in your wall
    to match the one in your heart
I cry when it hurts.
You laugh as you show the bruise rising up your torso
   his weapon of choice, a wrench
I dance to the beat of my favorite song
You drown out the sound of your simmering anger
   and sway to the booms of the world crashing down
Our circumstances were different to say the least
But salvation was a step ahead of you
And you stared it blankly in the face
And walked away.




Show me humility
Tell me you love me!


Oh, how you used to hover.
When we were young
You would control me.
I wanted to climb that tree
To hang upside down like a monkey
But I didn't
You told me no.
I wanted to love that boy
But you ran him away
With your hypocritical heart
So he wouldn't break mine.

I lived in a fantasy world
Ruled by you, my queen
You covered your tracks
To shake your finger at someone else
I was always wrong
You were always right.

I followed along with your game
But you were losing
me.



Twisting my head to see the whole reflection
of the less than average beauty
that is standing right in front of me
her hair is too curly, too pouffy, too crazy
those freckles those teeth, not to mention that body.
This mirror is my enemy.
Maybe tomorrow we can be friends.




blech.

Rant

Here's a little ranty rant of mine since I'm feeling sorry for myself:

Why is the feeling never mutual?

Let me explain. I see guys around, and when I see a cute one I remember what they look like. And even not cute people. But then does it ever go the other way around?? Doesnt seem to be that way.

I am invisible to people. Unrecognizable.

Story of my life.

I never let people know that I'm in their class, because it seems to be that they have no idea I'm in their class. And its just plain embarrassing after awhile. And frustrating.

Maybe I'm just looking for an ego boost. I dont know. But I'm tired of being the one that recognizes other people, and they never see me.

And maybe the reason people dont know I'm in their classes is because I usually dont say much in class. But that doesnt explain why they dont recognize me any where else. And even the people in class that dont say much, I recognize. There are people I see everywhere! And I say oo, thats the guy I see on my way to class or something. BUUUT do they ever do that?! No!

:)

And I know what my sisters/friends would say to me. Well, maybe some people do recognize you, but you never find out.

Well, to that I dont know what to say. I just wish I would know every so often. It would make me feel better. :)

Do you feel sorry for me?

Good.

;)

The end.

I am especially fond of you.

Just got done reading The Shack for the second time. No different from the first time. LOVE it. :)

Here are a few quotable quotes from the book. And some of my thoughts after the quotes.

Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly. And if it's left unresolved for very long. You can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.

I am significant.

Oh, how different my life would be if I just remembered this.

Because you do not know that I love you, you cannot trust me.

I always have this problem of not knowing if I'm putting my trust in God. This kind of makes sense because I also have a problem with knowing for sure that God loves me. I mean, yes, its what I've been taught from Sunday School and such, but I agreed to that emptily. Actually, thats a lie. I believe that I knew it with all my heart when I was young. Now, its hard to believe that someone would love all of me, all of the time. Man, did I love Jesus when I was young.

Discover that our relationship is not about performance or your having to please me.

Definitely something I need to discover. Rules and guilt is what I keep making this out to be. During high school and ICC I didnt want to go to church or devotionals or straight up learn about my Creator. Part of it was because it became routine and emotionless. But the other part was because the only reason I did any of that was because I felt like I had to. If I didnt go to church I would feel guilty. Having the rules and expectations break away is so freaking relieving. :)

You dont have to have it all figured out. Just be with me.

Such comforting words, because let me the first to say, I do not have it all figured out.

Guilt will never help you find freedom in me.

Dont forget that in the midst of all your pain and heartache, you are surrounded by beauty, the wonder of creation, art, your music and culture, the sounds of laughter and love, of whispered hopes.

I purpose to work life out of death, to bring freedom out of brokenness, and turn darkness into light.

It is not the nature of love to force a relationship but it is the nature of love to open the way.

I think we forget this. Being around people that don't believe in God has totally opened my eyes. People are turning away from God because of the "Christians" are shoving their god down these people's throats. Its sad.

For you to know it or not has nothing at all to do with whether I am actually here or not. I am always with you; sometimes I want you to be aware in a special way-more intentional.

I wish You wanted me to aware more often.

So, please, help me live in the truth.

This is my prayer.

Religion must use law to empower itself and control the people needed in order to survive. I give you an ability to respond and your response is to be free to love and serve in every situation, and therefore each moment is different and unique and wonderful.

Nothing is ritual.

When I say weird, I say it as a good thing.

I have been realizing things about myself recently. I really kind of hate writing in this or journals really, because I have so many things going on in my head. I cant get it all out, especially said intelligently. Its pretty frustrating!

REALIZATION 1: I'm very picky about the people in my life. (..probably why I dont have a best friend...) (And when I say I dont have a best friend, I'm not being mean to myself. Its the truth. As much as it sucks, thats the way it is. I dont have someone that comes to me with everything going on or hangs out with me because they want to, not because they dont have anyone else. :] Its just life. ) Like I get pretty annoyed with people easily. I dont let them know it, because it has nothing to do with them. Its just because when I spend lots of time with people and dont get time to myself, I just get cranky. ha.

I talked to my aunt and uncle recently and we discussed how awkwardness/lonerness/weirdness runs in our family. :)

Its the way we are. We need time to ourselves in order hang out with our peeps. ;) And we like being with people, we just need to have our me time. We need our energy to be ourselves when are with people. --It takes lots of energy to be weird!--

speaking of weird.

REALIZATION 2: I am weird. I realize this. (clearly...) I wish I could be weird all the time, but I guess I'm not confident enough to be. But when I'm around people that correspond to my weirdness, I AM WEIRD! And I could not be more happy! I love when I'm around the people that can love me weirdness and all (aka=family)! I am content in all my weirdness!

I wish I had more people that I could be myself, fully, around.

I JUST FREAKIN LOVE MY FAMILY!

They think I'm funny and I love that they get my sense of humor!

which brings us to...

REALIZATION 3: My family thinks I'm weird. Like funny weird. Like I tell stories or stuff that I think is hilarious, and they laugh. I love making people laugh. I so feed off of it, and that makes me happy. I never really think of myself as funny, but its like expected for me to be weird. And I'm not gonna lie, I love that. They think I'm funny, they really do! :)

Or maybe they just think I'm goofy and awkward. But. They still think thats funny. I am unique. and people like me.

Sorry, that I'm just now realizing that part, but for serious. Even if the only people that I will be best friends with are my family, specifically my sisters, I'm fine with that. They are freaking awesome. Each of my sisters are so different, and I love them each for different reasons, and I love them! I freaking love them. haha.

Can you tell I'm happy today? Cause I am. FREAKING FANTASTICALLY HAPPY.

:)

P.S. on Realization 3: I was showing mom videos of this guy that I am obsessed with (see new obsession 1), and she said see you could do that! And let me be clear, he makes money off of being weird. :)

REALIZATION 4: I kind of already knew this, but it is fully realized now...but I really need my husband to be some kind of creative-SLASH!-artistic and spontaneous. So I dont get bored or something. Art is something that I am interested in. Really any medium of art too. But I think that you have to be an interesting person in order to be an artist, so yeah. Theres my reasoning behind that. Anyways.

REALIZATION 5: College is the hardest part of keeping your faith, right? Well, thank goodness for ICC. --Never thought I would say/write that.-- I was having the hardest time at ICC. Nothing was really happening, I was just fading. And eventually I was just stuck. Now, that I'm in "real" college, my faith is reappearing. I needed a change. And hooray! :)

NEW OBSESSION 1: I had to change it up because this is not a realization, but a new obsession. I dont know if it has something to do with my personality or me being a loner or what, but I always have to have something that I am obsessed about. So, Miranda sent me this message with this guy doing a little video. I thought it was pretty hilarious, so I was like well, maybe this guy has more videos...well he DOES! Seriously, tons. And guess what I did for like the rest of the week. Sat in my room watching these videos spanned over three years of his life, into like three days of my life.

Since I have watched that one stupid video I have been thinking of nothing else. (Well, maybe like food and sleep and some homework...but mostly that guy). (hmm, sounds creepy..)

Anyway.

I am obsessed. I have probably watched all the videos I can, but then I found out that he has a website. So, there goes next week.

Oh, yeah, and he may be a bit attractive as well. :\

Annnnd, he's weird. So that is what has inspired all this weirdness talk. And it has put me in really good moods. ha. good moods=me being weird.

SIDENOTE: I feel like I'm missing something in my life. I need something and I cant put my finger on it. Its like trying to remember a dream, and you can remember parts of it, but its a little fuzzy, so it doesnt even make sense.

So. That was long. And I'm pretty sure.....weird. :)

I feel dirty.

Sometimes, I really just feel alone. Which is a problem I have been having in my spiritual life. I feel alone. Where are you at, God? I thought you said I wouldnt be alone. I guess feeling is the problem. Feeling is what I do. Its what I was always good at. So, my feelings are false? Or only sometimes? So, when?
I sooo need someone to talk to. I'm at a point in my life where I am losing those who were there for me to talk to. But I'm not needed for them to talk to, so you know...
Not to sound selfish. I just wish someone needed me, like I need them.
The other day I was thinking how I have grown up. That I'm so proud of myself. What a big girl I am! But I remember when I used to think that growing up was never what the world built it up to be. I wanted to keep my innocence. I need to have my childish faith and pride. But now, now I have my adult faith and pride. I have the societies views on things, but still some of innocence. I'm stuck in the middle. And hear thats a bad thing.
[[Hold on to what you believe in the light, when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight. ]]

Here is something I wrote the other night as a prayer of some sorts. Writing stuff down helps for some reason.

Dear old friend,
That seems to be how I have to start my letters now-a-days. I understand my life and self are changing, but do I have to lose everyone I love along the way? Its all my fault I suppose.
I dont talk to you as much as I should. I dont trust. But I'm not sure that I know how to. I can say I trust you, but that is definately not the same as actually trusting you. I'm not sure what trust feels like. I think I trust you, but am I really trusting you? You're the only one who really knows. How am I supposed to know if you're not here?
You say you don't leave, never am I alone. But why does it sure feel like it all the time? Are you really there? Cause sometimes I have my doubts. Things would be a lot easier if I didn't believe you existed. I know you said it wouldnt be easy, but it would suck if I lived my life carefully and found I could have lived it without regret because the rule-maker doesnt exist.
Maybe I'm looking at you the completely wrong way. Maybe I dont know you at all. That makes me frustrated. I've been here 20 years and I dont know the god I'm supposedly believing in. Maybe I did know you. When I was younger and smarter. Yeah, I think I did. But you are a chore to me now. A routine to go through. Thats no relationship at all. And so I say my prayers at night (if I'm lucky), feel guilty about not going to church, and believe in a god because thats what I do, and what I've been doing.
I'm embarrassed its taken me so long to realize it. I dont like that there's different levels of relationships or walks with you. Maybe thats just something we have made up to feel superior to one another. But I still want to have the best one, the close one that everyone wants and needs. I dont want to be the slow one that has finally realized something significant. So I end up doing this for the wrong reasons. I go back to what I know: being a good Christian, charity, loving others, so I can seem like I'm okay. But I'm not okay.

love to hate.

I'm waiting for my sister and brother to come home, so I have time to waste and time to think. And of myself, of course. for each "hate" I will respond with a "love". I will try to be as honest as possible. It will be a good way for the, what, one person that reads this blog to get to know me. :) and for me to get to know myself. Annnd to make time go by faster.

1. I hate when I say something, and the only person in the room does not respond because they "didnt know I was talking to them"
I love when someone says they miss me. Especially when I miss that person too. I tend to think the opposite until someone tells me.

2. I hate when girls take those "Myspace pictures" of themselves, but I kind of, maybe do a little of the same thing....but mine are WAY better. ;) I'm specifically talking about the pictures that the girl is trying to be sexy. ughhh. Now, that is something I have never tried to do. I'm pretty sure I would look redonkulous.
I love when something random and funny happens and I start laughing and I cant breathe or stop laughing. Pure bliss. :)

3. I hate when I put my clothes in the washer and then forget to start the washer. I definately just did that.
I love my family. I love that we WANT to hang out, and be with each other. I love that when we do, we all get along and love each other. :)

4. I hate those stupid shirts with stupid sayings on them. Sayings that make the person wearing the shirt look like a big, fat slut magee.
I love when my dad gets excited about food. Its so fun to see. He becomes a kid again. I think everyone should have something they are entirely passionate about.

5. I hate when people dont like themselves, which makes me such a hipocrite, but I really do. But these people I'm talking about wont look at pictures of themselves, or they critisize everything about themselves...its crazy! Where is the love?! [cue: Where Is The Love getting played in my head]
I love that I'm learning to love myself. I dont have perfect days, but I'm getting so much better.

6. I hate when I study hard for a test, and I find out someone that didnt study did better than me. Not fair at all. Course, that doesnt really happen to me anymore because I dont study all that long, and I dont have any friends in my classes in college that I compare grades to. Problem solved. :)
I love Family Feud. I'm pretty awesome at it.

7. I hate that I'm easily jealous. :/
I love that I can be myself, and I'm okay with that. I dont need to be someone else. I'm coming to find that that isnt so easy for some people.

8. I hate that when I'm in a bad mood, its such a big deal and everyone has to say something, but when someone else is in a bad mood, whoa better leave them alone! Plus it always makes a mood worse when someone says something like "man, youre in a bad mood today..." yes. yes I am. and that comment made my mood so much better...
I love making lists and crossing things off my list. I procrastinate before I get them done, but I still get them done. :)

9. I hate when I eat out or just at home when there is still food left on my plate. I cant just let it go to waste! Must. Eat. I blame dad for always making us clean off our plates when we were younger. I never learned to take smaller portions, just to eat fast so I can finish it.
I love dressing up. I used to hate it, all I wore were t-shirts. But now I have days where I really want to wear a skirt or dress and be pretty.

10. I hate waiting. I'm terribly impatient.
I love sleeping. In order to get to sleep, I pretty much day dream. I forget everything I'm stressing over, and make up my perfect world. I could do it all day, but I'm pretty sure I'd go insane. If I'm not already. :)

11. I hate when I'm in such a good mood, and no one around me is happy. It's such a buzz kill. There is no one to be hyper with...I usually just end up annoying whoever I'm with. ha.
I love when people fart on accident. Its hilarious. I'm so grooooss, I know. Farting is just funny to me...

12. I hate when I write a blog and no one comments on it. :) I'm so vain, I know. I'm just being honest.
I love to love. Loving is so much fun.


Ummmm, the end.

my dad is so freaking self-righteous.

sleep talking man.

so there is this blog i follow called Sleep Talkin' Man. It is hilarious. This British guy talks in his sleep and his wife records what he says. His asleep self is the complete opposite of his awake self. I've compiled some of my faves. heres the link for the blog: www.sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com



"Well, so what you call me fat. I'll forget you even existed the next time I see a donut."

"Is it a bird. Is it-oh. It's Koala Man. Asleep in the branches again, and probably pissed. What an embarrassment to superhero-kind."
pissed=drunk

"Finger painting's fun. I need to get some more fingers, though. Give me your fingers. I'll just cut 'em off. You've got pretty fingers. I can do some pretty paintings with those pretty fingers. Toes, I can use toes! Yay! I'm sorted. Fingers and toes."

"Nobody told me I couldn't bring that to tea. Why can't I bring it to tea? I'm really sorry to have upset you. It's not my fault. I thought it was okay. I did. Oh. It's not fair. It's not fair. You're trying to spoil my fun. Go on. I'm taking the iguana home. It's the last time you're gonna let your little chicks run around free!"
igauna?? :)

"You speak your mind, I punch your face. I think it's a fair exchange. We'll both be hurting."

"The cake! It must be psychic. Its using Jedi mind tricks to make itself irrestitable to me. This is the cake I want. I must have the soft icing."

"I've got a horrible urge to catch tuna in your stockings. Sustainably, of course. "
what does this even mean?

"Ho ch-...Ho chee...Ho chee na na na na na ....na na na na...oh boy am I glad I got that off my chest...I feel so better now."

"Talk once more and I will sue you for ear abuse. Shame on you! Shame! Auraphile."

"He's the king of clowns. You can tell by the nose. (whisper) It's always by the nose."

"I'm sorry. I'm gonna have to bag up all my nasal hair. It'll take me hours, but it will be worth it."
It only takes me a few minutes to do that. hmm. weird.

"Yeah, I'm shapely. I'm a great big gorgeous shape and lovin it."
^this is a quote I will live by.

that's all. I'm tired, and I could write these down all night...:)

The more I think, the crazier I get.

These are kind of rough poems that I always plan on revising, but pretty much I'm too lazy to. So, here they are in all of their beautiful roughness. :)

and together we will learn to love.
Oh, Thunder you are
the heart beat to my soul.

You rumble
like the thoughts of
my closest friend
who has chosen to
close her ears
to only hear,
not to listen.

You stomp
like my feet
running from the
responsibilities of
the world claiming
my name to be theirs.

You roar
like my voice
crying to the
empty heavens
for answers
that cant seem
to be found



You say this love
that overwhelms
all other thoughts
will last until
the world's end.
But I saw
the feeling of regret
on your face
when she swayed her hips
while prancing on by
and I think youre playing pretend.

I dont really know where that one came from. But I kind of like it. :)


This has been a pretty tough year. I dont really know why its different than any other year. But I've just been distant. I get to thinking, and I kind of get mad at God. Which is something that I have never felt before. So, I get mad at God, then I realize what is going on. And I just blame myself, because really, it is my fault. But then I just go over and over the stuff that makes me so broken. And I just think, well, why would God or anyone else want to love me when I am like this? So, then I just say forget it, and the whole story starts again...Annnd I'm pretty sure I'm crazy. :)
On one of those days/ nights where I was going through this, I wrote this poem. It's pretty rough, and the transitions could be better, but I think I'm going to leave it as I wrote it. It's more honest that way.

We looked at your creation,
the vast starlit sky
and the moonlight shined on your face.
and I saw the adoration in your eyes
Then you turned your head to me
And Jesus, you told me you loved me.
With more emotion and truth
Than I had ever heard.
And I believed you.
You told me that I was
just as beautiful as the sparkling sky
and more gentle than the soft grass
between our toes
And that I made you happier than
anything in this place.
And I believed you.
I couldnt see because my eyes were full of tears
So, I reached for your embrace
And you hugged me.
And you wrapped your calloused hands
around my fragile body
And you squeezed so hard
We began to laugh.
I laughed with you, Jesus
With more joy than I had ever felt.
Your deep, laugh shook me
And echoed in the night sky
But then I felt the tears on my cheek
And remembered what caused this.
And I stopped laughing.
I am ugly.
I am weak.
I am lonely.
I am bad.
I am unlovable.
Jesus, you told me not to think.
Just be.
I am here, you told me.
And I always will be.


That kind of reminds me of The Shack...

[it must be so lonely to be the only one who's holy]

Less Than Perfect Saint

Throw the first stone
Throw it.
Dont hold back now.

I hear your mumbling.
Said in whispers
"Begging for attention," you say
"Sinning against His will."
Well, perfection isn't yours, my friend.
You belong here with me.
Kneeling humiliated
In this sand.

But stand there
And judge me.
Pick up your gavel
And stare.
Charge me with my sin
So I can ask for forgiveness
And you can see this "beggar"
Find riches.

While you claim holiness.
You will remain in darkness.

Negative Nancy

I am in the darkness
Away from the Light,
Walking through the desert,
In the valley
With a cloud hanging over my head.
I am alone in the pit
Crawling on my knees
Thirsty, for my cup is empty.
However I say it
I am broken, Lord.
I miss you.
and I'm tired of running.


I'm tired of
all of this
wanting
and waiting
and dreaming of things
that will never be.
Wonderful, lovely
things that would
make everything
tolerable.
But this thing,
love,
as it were,
does not exist.


Turn it up loud.
Drown out the sound
Of these thoughts
That crowd my head.
I dont want to think.
Not about what to wear.
Not about how crappy I feel
Not about when to quit
this job I hate.

I dont want to hear it.
I want to feel it.

Echo in these
Tired bones
Make my heart beat
To the drum beat.
Deafen my ears
To the words
They use as a weapon
To quiet their fears

I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT.
I WANT TO FEEL IT.

Loaded Question

"How are you?"
Terrible.
My alarm woke me up early,
and then I couldn't get back to sleep.
I ripped my favorite pair of jeans
because I inherited my mom's butt.
I was late for my Philosophy class
Since I got pulled over for speeding.
The girl that sits in front of me
had her pink, lace thong sticking
out of her jeans.
I didn't see the hot guy
I always see in the cafeteria,
while walking to my Scriptwriting class.
And now I'm at work
serving impatient customers
like yourself
food they can easily make at home.
By themselves.
"I'm okay."

:To my husband

So, I spose I'm abnormal. It's okay though, I've come to terms with this news. I was never the little girl constantly thinking of her wedding day, I always got excited about the marriage. Throughout my life I've always dreamed of what it would be like to married to someone you love with all of yourself. To share this strong love and be able to share your love for
God. I'm not saying that I had a perfect idea of marriage. I know there is struggle and hurt along with the comforting and joy. But, I think the image of marriage is very different now from what I imagined when I was younger. There is no humility. There is no sharing. You live in the same house with someone you don't even know. Love itself is distorted.

No one knows how I long for you
How I'm trying to stay strong for you
Sometimes I don't know why I pray for you,
That you would also stay true for me
How easy the alternative would be
Life would be so simple and carefree
But empty without your love eternally

Sometimes, I wonder why I chose the path I did. It's not easy at times...


I want someone to kiss my forehead
and make me blush
To tell me goodnight
And when he holds me in his arms
I melt right there
Waiting for the world to start to turn again
I long for a love so divine
A love so unexchangable, unforgettable
I want the Lord to love it too.
Every kiss will make me catch my breath
Because I. cant. breathe.
I'm waiting for my heart to explode
My hands to shake
And my knees to be weak
I long for my understanding, humble husband
And I'll be waiting
Until he comes
and until then.

So, what if unexchangable isnt a word...who says you have to use real words in poetry? :)

I love you
used to mean
something.
Now, its turned
into an everyday,
to anyone and anything
nothing.

A big, perfect. mess.

Performance piece.

Letter to my Heavenly Father

Dear Lord Almighty,
Should I call you that?
Do you mind?
Cause I kind of get confused sometimes.
Casual or formal?
Chatty or direct?
Well, I guess I'll get
Straight to the point

Where the hell have you been?
Pardon my language
But with my free will
and see with
You ignoring me and all
I thought I might just
Come right out and say it.

I've been like this
for my life.
Guess you've just missed it
I am a broken faucet.
drip. drip. drip.
And then I'm a puddle on the floor.

I was sad yesterday
So bad I just sat
In bed all day.
And I called, yeah.
But I guess you were too busy
So I went back to sleep
To keep my sanity
If only in my dreams

When I awoke
The sun fell back to sleep
One more time
I tried.
Help.
You didn't answer
Did you?
...Sure.

Now I kneel
At the edge of
My squeaky bed
On the ground
Of my cluttered room
With my mess of a mind.

So this is my last
S.O.S.
...until the next time
Cause this heart
In my chest
And the one
Of my soul
Long to be
Whole in you.

See you in my sleep,
Write back soon,
Your lost sheep.

Peace, Perfect Peace.

Whenever I think about peace, I automatically think about hugging my mom. The hug where I wrap my arms around her waist and lay my head on her chest so I can hear her heartbeat and her arms are holding me tight, and we just stand there waiting for the world to still. And on really bad days, I just cry and stain her shirt with my tears and she says nothing. She just hugs me.

I need a hug.

i hate my poetry class, i love my poetry class.

It's been rough in class lately. I've been getting down on my poems, and feel like I am clearly the worst poet in that class. I want to succeed. haha, honestly, mostly I just want my poetry to be good enough that people will like it and compliment it.
My teacher always asks for more specifics in my poems and this week I tried and uh, well he couldnt tell. He told me the same thing as before. So as I was walking to my car after class, bummed out because I suck at something I thought I was slightly good at, I was inspired. (Of course, I ramble off poetry when I can't write it.) So, I went to my car and wrote it down.
I think what bothers me the most about not feeling confident about my poetry, whether it is good or not, I always thought it was my "thing". I feel like everyone has something they are good at and mine is poetry. So, when I feel like "well, maybe poetry isn't my thing" then I am left with nothing I am good at.


I'm walking fast
like I have somewhere to go
but I'll just go home,
talk to my cats,
and sleep.

I look down at the concrete
I'm stomping on
instead of the wandering eyes
of passer bys.
Because if I met those eyes
I might actually have to make small talk
and pretend to like someone
I could care less about
and they could care less about me.

So, I'll just stare at the
pencils stuck between the cracks,
millions of cigarettes wasted,
splashes of color of dissenagrating gum,
and the clown tattoo on this guy's calf
that is walking slowly in front of me.

The clown with one eye bigger than the other,
a sharp line of teeth like Jaws,
protruding.
-But I look away because
clowns scare me
and I might get nightmares
if I stare long enough.

So, I walk past him at my haste pace
And past the people
in cars that always seem to be
in a hurry,
across the crosswalk and almost
get run over by some
guy in a piece-of-junk car
because I never look when
I cross the crosswalk.
Just to feel B.A.
"I have the right of way, A-hole!"
I want to scream,
but I just stare a hole through his window instead.

When I get to my car
I have to stratigically
open my car door
while shoving my overweight
backpack in my back seat.
Then shimmy myself
in the driver's seat,
trying not to hit the
stupid truck
that parked diagonally
next to me.

Finally in my safe haven
of fake leather and good music.

Now, I look like a creep
sitting in my car writing
a SPECIFIC poem
to convince my classmates,
and probably myself,
that I dont suck at writing poetry.

Love is our movement, but our movement's slow.

stuck
I'm in a rut
I wake up,
Survive the day
And go to sleep
To dream of better times
when reality
Was better than fantasy


Assignment: write a poem in someone else's voice.

I am a catch
And release fisherman.
I get what I want.
Give into my cravings.
Satisfy my tastebuds.
Then cut it off.
Catch.
My fingers reach
deep down my throat
-I almost pull them out
But just
one
more
second
And my stomach empties
Into the porcelain god
I bow down to.
Release.

New Poems:

Taking a poetry class is a wonderful thing and dreadful thing. It has shown me different ways to go about writing poetry, examples of rather good poetry from other students, and made me think poetry every second of the day...annd night. :) We write two a week, one a "workshop" poem(something we have been working on and the author reads it to the class and the class talks about it and the author is forbidden to explain the poem until the classmates are done discussing) and the other poem is an assigned topic. Some of them are rough because I have never been too good at writing poems "forcedly" :). Here are some:

Assignment: something you are good at

The stale smell.
The piercing bright hallways.
The dark room.
The bed.
And the man.
The once strong man wrapped up in tubes.
He smiles.
He hides the shooting pain from his side.
No need to hide.
Your pain is my pain.

Late night songs.
She carries on
To put the little head to rest.
Tiny baby,
So much joy.
No more war.
No more leaving.
Tears fall as her heart's overflowing.
Happiness at last.
The past is the past.
Your joy is my joy.

He broke her heart,
Without even thinking.
He tore it out,
Without ever asking.
He ran away with it,
While she watched him go.
Hurt in her eyes
Agony in her smile.
Time heals all wounds
....This might take awhile.
Your hurt is my hurt.



Do you remember when I would hang on to every word?
And you loved it didn't you?
Your truth was the truth.
You were never wrong.
Everyone else was.
You sucked the life from me.
Growing too close, your roots covered mine.
How was I supposed to grow?
Did you know the harm you caused by trying to keep me from,
From what?
From hurt, wars, sin?
From life?!
What about joy, peace, and love?


Now, before reading this one I want to warn you this is strong feelings pent up. My poems are straight emotion without censors. I love my dad. Sometimes he really just ticks me off.

Assignment: Family

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Father.
I will NEVER say I do
To someone like you!
You are exactly like him.
Your father, you know?
Ha!
You tried, but I hate you like you hate him.

The only time we talk
Is when you yell at me
And you watch me cry.
Know that these are from your words, Dad.
I tell you why
But do you ever listen?!

You make me like this.
Like he made you.
This is not me.
I will not be angry.

Come back to me.
Do you remember when I sat upon your knee?
You would read me stories.
Did you love me then, Daddy?
I loved you, I loved you, I love you, Papa.
When will you ever love me?


Assignment: Place
The Old House
From this long, glass window I can see
The pure beauty.
Untouched white, covering the evergreen
Showing its age by its thinning branches.
Looking closer I can see bootprints
Leading down to the simple, silver barn
Down to the clutter and the chaos.
Trash.
All of it.
Broken, forgotten, left to rust tractors and mowers.
So much to fix so its left to rot.
Just like this house.


Mirror, Mirror
First draft:
Twisting my head to see the whole reflection
Of the less than average beauty
That is standing right in front of me
Her hair is too curly, too poofy, too crazy.
Those freckles, those teeth, not to mention that body.
This mirror is my enemy.

Second draft: (a woman in my class writes these two to three line poems that explain so much in so little. i wanted to try it.)

This mirror is my enemy.
Maybe tomorrrow we can be friends.



Assignment: describe a physical object

Dream Maker
For some reason this bed wont make itself
The sheets are falling off the side.
Right in the middle is the quilt I made with Grandma.
She let me pick out the squares the one day I came to help.
The deep, red comforter disappearing between the wall and the mattress.
The black sheets contrasted by every bit of dust and cat hair.
The pillows at the head of the bed invite me back to sleep.
The hand-me-down bed frame squeaks as if to moan of old age.
A mess, this bed.
Just like me.


Playing God
Here are the strings
I see them now.
In my hand, I feel the bars
Manipulating and using.
I am the puppet master.
And I am the doll.

This is power.
If I can't control life,
I'll control myself.

yeah...i wouldnt want to be friends with me either.

Sometimes, I feel I don't deserve you.

Sometimes, I know, but take you for granted anyway.

Some days, I lie awake wondering about you.

Some days, all I think about is myself.

Most days, I come up with a plan to thank you.

Most ways, I end up bringing your kindness to shame.

Sometimes, I plan to make up for my selfishness.

Sometimes, I make up excuses for myself.

Some days, I'm ready to change the way I am.

Some days, I wait until tomorrow to make a difference.

Most days, I can find a friend to come along for the ride.

Though some day, there will be no one by my side.

yep. that pretty much explains it. i'm a bad friend. i expect your best, while you get my worst. i'm sorry. that's pretty lame, i know. i can say i'll change, but i'm pretty sure i won't. wouldnt want to let anyone down again.