15 mm of rain
It's raining today
all day
the gray clouds hang over yellow grass
the roots drinking in the nourishing liquid
the same liquid that is sapping the strength from my body
I just want to crawl in bed and sleep all day
all day
It's raining today
Doh. When I was brushing my teeth and thinking about what I wanted to write today, I was totally thinking of writing something happy about a girl and walking down a hallway together and this came out instead. Oh well.
I just finished watching House and it got me thinking that my memories are messed up. I know that when people read these pieces (if anyone actually stumbles upon this site), they might think that some poems are about them. I wouldn't be so cocky when making claims to certain poems because the episode of House made me think that perhaps my memories aren't necessarily the way things went down. Maybe my memory of events aren't actually what happened. Maybe you're the girl that I've been writing about all this time. Or perhaps you're not. Maybe I don't even know the girl I'm writing about and I'm just making up memories and a history.
I dunno. Just been kinda gloomy lately. Maybe I'll write more about that some other day. Peace out.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Nobody Knows
Nobody Knows
Nobody knows
but when I see you yawn
my heart breaks
it has nothing to do with your yawning
seeing you just makes my heart ache
for greener pastures and sunny days
when our conversations consisted of more than "hey"s
Nobody knows
but sometimes I suspect you do
"Nobody knows" is an interesting thing to talk about in the days of everything being online and only a google search away. You would think that there are very few things in the world that nobody knows. Even a quick browse of Wikipedia shows that there seems to be experts of every subject under the sun and not only that, but there are also citations to prove those facts. However, when you think about how much stuff people keep to themselves. Their private thoughts and inner pain... there must be a tonne of that stuff out there too.
This piece was inspired by the Pink song. I've never heard it or even read all the lyrics but I stumbled upon the title of it on DeviantArt the other day. I dunno. I've kinda been feeling sad lately. Maybe more accurately like for the past 10 hours or so. I think I want to start writing every day again. Who knows. It's not like anyone is reading this junk. However, I still will need to be careful to not disclose too much. Peace out. New streak of 1.
Nobody knows
but when I see you yawn
my heart breaks
it has nothing to do with your yawning
seeing you just makes my heart ache
for greener pastures and sunny days
when our conversations consisted of more than "hey"s
Nobody knows
but sometimes I suspect you do
"Nobody knows" is an interesting thing to talk about in the days of everything being online and only a google search away. You would think that there are very few things in the world that nobody knows. Even a quick browse of Wikipedia shows that there seems to be experts of every subject under the sun and not only that, but there are also citations to prove those facts. However, when you think about how much stuff people keep to themselves. Their private thoughts and inner pain... there must be a tonne of that stuff out there too.
This piece was inspired by the Pink song. I've never heard it or even read all the lyrics but I stumbled upon the title of it on DeviantArt the other day. I dunno. I've kinda been feeling sad lately. Maybe more accurately like for the past 10 hours or so. I think I want to start writing every day again. Who knows. It's not like anyone is reading this junk. However, I still will need to be careful to not disclose too much. Peace out. New streak of 1.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Heartless and Brokenness (2 poems from the archives)
I've been cleaning my room lately and came upon a couple poems that I wrote a long time ago so I thought I'd put them on here to keep the records complete.
June 5, 1999
Heartless
Walking up and down these aisles
I realize one thing and it hurts like crazy
Heartless
I am heartless
This realization makes my head spin and my mind hazy
Memories flash before my eyes
Still photographs of loved ones come and go
Again I realize
Pieces of my heart are spread thinly across this land
Gifts that I have given
Times that I have shared
All these things contained a piece of me
The love that I have given my friends are just pieces of my heart
A crown
A heart
Friendship
The circles that my life takes
Ring around my finger
The things that I hold precious
Slip through my hands
The people that I love
Just beyond my reaches
The pain inflicted by losing friends is tolerable
But the pain of losing her is unbearable
When dear friends move they take a piece of me with them
And the continual renewal of friendship refuels my body and rebuilds my heart
But I offered her all of my heart
A gift that is nonrefundable and nonexchangeable
Unacceptable
Unappreciated
Taken for granted
Forsaken
Walking up and down these aisles
I realize one thing and it hurts like crazy
Heartless
I am heartless
June 20, 1999
Brokenness
Letter my lover does send
but purpose not broken hearts to mend
Hateful thoughts in blue ink on white scroll
Letter by letter, word by word, it takes its toll
Tears are no longer shed for my precious one
My heart longs for rain but I fear it sun
The perilous T intersection
We travel as one but then must us two direction
One leads to joy, pleasure, and bliss
the other is robbery, stolen with a kss
The innocence of hope dashed by letter wrote
Sits I in a crowd but my heart is remote
Ring on my finger speaks of love and devotion
Letter claims it but just "Joe" emotion
The solution lies in my blue velvet pouch
A ring that sings of hurt and doubt
Two hands clasp a heart of stone
I must protect it for I am alone
Sadness takes me from top of head to depth of soul
Tears held back begin to roll
Letters, notes, two rings and a kss
leave me crying -- Brokenness
Wow, I read them for the first time in a long time as I typed them up. Heavy stuff... written after a break up. Heavy but there are some brilliant lines in there for sure.
June 5, 1999
Heartless
Walking up and down these aisles
I realize one thing and it hurts like crazy
Heartless
I am heartless
This realization makes my head spin and my mind hazy
Memories flash before my eyes
Still photographs of loved ones come and go
Again I realize
Pieces of my heart are spread thinly across this land
Gifts that I have given
Times that I have shared
All these things contained a piece of me
The love that I have given my friends are just pieces of my heart
A crown
A heart
Friendship
The circles that my life takes
Ring around my finger
The things that I hold precious
Slip through my hands
The people that I love
Just beyond my reaches
The pain inflicted by losing friends is tolerable
But the pain of losing her is unbearable
When dear friends move they take a piece of me with them
And the continual renewal of friendship refuels my body and rebuilds my heart
But I offered her all of my heart
A gift that is nonrefundable and nonexchangeable
Unacceptable
Unappreciated
Taken for granted
Forsaken
Walking up and down these aisles
I realize one thing and it hurts like crazy
Heartless
I am heartless
June 20, 1999
Brokenness
Letter my lover does send
but purpose not broken hearts to mend
Hateful thoughts in blue ink on white scroll
Letter by letter, word by word, it takes its toll
Tears are no longer shed for my precious one
My heart longs for rain but I fear it sun
The perilous T intersection
We travel as one but then must us two direction
One leads to joy, pleasure, and bliss
the other is robbery, stolen with a kss
The innocence of hope dashed by letter wrote
Sits I in a crowd but my heart is remote
Ring on my finger speaks of love and devotion
Letter claims it but just "Joe" emotion
The solution lies in my blue velvet pouch
A ring that sings of hurt and doubt
Two hands clasp a heart of stone
I must protect it for I am alone
Sadness takes me from top of head to depth of soul
Tears held back begin to roll
Letters, notes, two rings and a kss
leave me crying -- Brokenness
Wow, I read them for the first time in a long time as I typed them up. Heavy stuff... written after a break up. Heavy but there are some brilliant lines in there for sure.
Friday, February 29, 2008
The Eternal Week
The Eternal Week
Late cloudy afternoon
As I take a walk on the eternal week
Like a familiar joke that loses its
punch with time
The motors of the machine are
set to recreate every detail
Soulless bodies walking around
repeating conversations long after
the original conversationalists have died
And yet her beauty remains
Faustine, the gypsy lady
Hmmm... it seems I'm out of practice. This thing is inspired by The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares. It was a nice short read. For anyone who doesn't want to know what the book is all about, spoilers are up ahead. The book is a strange tale about this man who seems to be on a deserted island but then he discovers that there is this fantastical machine on the island that somehow took a moving picture of a week in the life of a man named Morel and this girl, Faustine. They are sort of like holograms and look real and even feel real. And by keeping this machine running on the island, Morel was able to achieve immortality because he was able to capture everything to the smallest detail... sight, sound, feel, smell and the events of that week would play over and over again for eternity. The main character falls in love with Faustine but is never really able to interact with her because she's only an image. I like reading books that I've never heard of before.
Late cloudy afternoon
As I take a walk on the eternal week
Like a familiar joke that loses its
punch with time
The motors of the machine are
set to recreate every detail
Soulless bodies walking around
repeating conversations long after
the original conversationalists have died
And yet her beauty remains
Faustine, the gypsy lady
Hmmm... it seems I'm out of practice. This thing is inspired by The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares. It was a nice short read. For anyone who doesn't want to know what the book is all about, spoilers are up ahead. The book is a strange tale about this man who seems to be on a deserted island but then he discovers that there is this fantastical machine on the island that somehow took a moving picture of a week in the life of a man named Morel and this girl, Faustine. They are sort of like holograms and look real and even feel real. And by keeping this machine running on the island, Morel was able to achieve immortality because he was able to capture everything to the smallest detail... sight, sound, feel, smell and the events of that week would play over and over again for eternity. The main character falls in love with Faustine but is never really able to interact with her because she's only an image. I like reading books that I've never heard of before.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Holiness
Holiness
You already know this but I have to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
I forget and I stumble
I forget and I fall
You already know this but I need to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
I forget about that night in December
The night that I was challenged to remember
That sometimes I make an idol of the God that I'd like You to be
Of a God who's vision centers around me
You already know this but I want to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
but this will remind me
Lolz. So I finally got my masters diploma in the mail. So I decided to find my high school and undergraduate diplomas and put them in the same manila envelope... of course I have no idea where my undergraduate degree is. I thought I knew but I guess I was wrong. However, I did manage to find the poem that I wrote at winter conference a few years ago that I mentioned before in this blog and here it is. Awesome. I wrote this in a "Listening to God through Creative Writing" workshop and there was a cute girl in it... but that's beside the point.
You already know this but I have to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
I forget and I stumble
I forget and I fall
You already know this but I need to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
I forget about that night in December
The night that I was challenged to remember
That sometimes I make an idol of the God that I'd like You to be
Of a God who's vision centers around me
You already know this but I want to write this down
Sometimes I forget about Your holiness
but this will remind me
Lolz. So I finally got my masters diploma in the mail. So I decided to find my high school and undergraduate diplomas and put them in the same manila envelope... of course I have no idea where my undergraduate degree is. I thought I knew but I guess I was wrong. However, I did manage to find the poem that I wrote at winter conference a few years ago that I mentioned before in this blog and here it is. Awesome. I wrote this in a "Listening to God through Creative Writing" workshop and there was a cute girl in it... but that's beside the point.
Friday, February 15, 2008
(no poem)
I was tempted to just write some super weak poem today but I thought it was a good time to let the streak die. I still intend to almost write daily but now I won't have the pressure to do so as much... and now I get to start a new streak and get a little more motivated again. Peace out.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Dirt
Dirt
A scream pierces the sky
As the last spring snow gently falls on newly sodden grass
All your friends are gathered and even some enemies from your past
Everything is forgotten
And everything is remembered
Like the time you got too drunk
and made a fool of yourself last December
Where did all the time go and how many opportunities did I miss?
When you touched my left elbow, did you really expect a kiss?
I'll always be asking that question cause you were such a little flirt
but alas today I'm at your funeral with a hand full of dirt
Hmmm... today's piece was different. I knew I wanted to write something involving death because I didn't want to write something romantic on Valentine's Day. That would have been too cliche. This is only a little cliche of the second rank. For some reason I decided that I wanted to title the poem "dirt" and I had to figure a way to get there at the end.
Just watched Lost - episode 4.3 "The Economist". I totally want to look at spoilers to see what's gonna happen next week. I totally can't wait... hopefully I won't ruin it for myself though.
A scream pierces the sky
As the last spring snow gently falls on newly sodden grass
All your friends are gathered and even some enemies from your past
Everything is forgotten
And everything is remembered
Like the time you got too drunk
and made a fool of yourself last December
Where did all the time go and how many opportunities did I miss?
When you touched my left elbow, did you really expect a kiss?
I'll always be asking that question cause you were such a little flirt
but alas today I'm at your funeral with a hand full of dirt
Hmmm... today's piece was different. I knew I wanted to write something involving death because I didn't want to write something romantic on Valentine's Day. That would have been too cliche. This is only a little cliche of the second rank. For some reason I decided that I wanted to title the poem "dirt" and I had to figure a way to get there at the end.
Just watched Lost - episode 4.3 "The Economist". I totally want to look at spoilers to see what's gonna happen next week. I totally can't wait... hopefully I won't ruin it for myself though.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Valentine's Eve
Valentine's Eve
There is no countdown
Because it's not a big deal
Some would argue that it's not even real
I would argue that Valentine's day itself isn't real. I'm being super lazy today. Just want to get something written before PM tonight.
There is no countdown
Because it's not a big deal
Some would argue that it's not even real
I would argue that Valentine's day itself isn't real. I'm being super lazy today. Just want to get something written before PM tonight.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Snowy Nights
Snowy Nights
My love for you is not loud
Some would argue that it doesn't even qualify as a whisper
It certainly is lazy
unwilling to lift a finger
Maybe it is just a tired
feeling that insists to linger
On snowy Tuesday nights
K, I'm getting good at this stuff. I crank these things out in like a minute or 2 and I don't even know what they are about or where they come from. The only thing I definitely know for sure is that they aren't any good. Oh well. Sometimes you just have to write for the sake of writing and sooner or later something good will come along.
My love for you is not loud
Some would argue that it doesn't even qualify as a whisper
It certainly is lazy
unwilling to lift a finger
Maybe it is just a tired
feeling that insists to linger
On snowy Tuesday nights
K, I'm getting good at this stuff. I crank these things out in like a minute or 2 and I don't even know what they are about or where they come from. The only thing I definitely know for sure is that they aren't any good. Oh well. Sometimes you just have to write for the sake of writing and sooner or later something good will come along.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Wall
The Wall
The wall is fast approaching
It sits there
laughing at me as I run right up to it
It knows that I don't have the momentum to go over it
It knows that its going to stop me in my tracks
I dunno how much longer I can keep this streak up. I'm a very passionate person but I also like to take breaks from my passions from time to time. I've come up to a wall and I don't know what to write about anymore. I haven't really read much in the past week. I need some more inspiration. There is only so much a person can write about after watching the semi-finals of the American Gladiators. Boo me.
The wall is fast approaching
It sits there
laughing at me as I run right up to it
It knows that I don't have the momentum to go over it
It knows that its going to stop me in my tracks
I dunno how much longer I can keep this streak up. I'm a very passionate person but I also like to take breaks from my passions from time to time. I've come up to a wall and I don't know what to write about anymore. I haven't really read much in the past week. I need some more inspiration. There is only so much a person can write about after watching the semi-finals of the American Gladiators. Boo me.
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