Monday, April 30, 2012

Loose Ends

Here are some more of my poetry from April that never really fit into a post.

I'm so sorry, by the way, about the extreme lack of posts by me. The end of this semester is crazy, and will continue to be crazy for the next few weeks.

On the bright side though, I finished reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night (for the second time). I am now going on to Atonement, which is on my list. =) I'm super excited.

Anyway, here are some loose ends.


Those who care about
their ancestry are selfish,
but those who do not
are more selfish.



A bird watching a busy road
knows your schedule. Your path,
but not your destination--
never your heart's desire.

And I prefer not to fly
but watch you pass me by.
Oh, what power you have in your hands
that you may drive away

and not look back, lest you turn
to a pillar of salt. Or worse--
I fear now that I'm not there--
I am just a flash.



Fresh lead--snapped.
My pencil refused
to hold my aggression.



He left me wounded--
my sores are exposed--
the elements surrounding me,
my kids still dependent on me.

She gave up on life and on me;
my children could not come with me.
Their mother's a cheat--
her husband a drink--

And now I'm alone, but not free.



I might leave, but then return
by choice or unwillingly,
but now I rest at your fingertips,
so rejoice in what is left of me.




Saturday, April 28, 2012

Daily Words: Week 17

Day 113.
The word is...

1. gruesome, horrible, revolting
2. terrible in intensity, unrestraint
3. lighted or shining in an unnatural, fiery glow

Found: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 27.


Day 114.
The word is...

a series of steps or rungs by means of which a person may pass over a wall or fence that remains a barrier to sheep or cattle.

Found: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 27.


Day 115.
The word is...

having a disparaging, derogatory, or belittling effect or force

Found: in the footnotes of "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


Day 116.
The word is...

very sheer and light; almost completely transparent or translucent.

Found: "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


Day 117.
The word is...

full of sexual lust; lustful; lewd;

Found: "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


Day 118.
The word is...

having or claiming to have the power of seeing objects or actions beyond the range of natural vision

Found: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 29.


Day 119.
The word is...

pertaining to rudiments  or first principles; elementary; primitive

Found: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 33.



Thursday, April 26, 2012


I am two flags blowing--two leaves on a bough
sometimes in sync, other times not
but beautiful all the same,
despite my changing shade.

And the contrast I seek is also ambiguous;
sometimes dark against light, sometimes pastel,
sometimes searching to stand out,
then blend in.

Louder and louder still, though moments pass
and I know that silence is just as complex.
I know that still silence cannot pass
without penetrating my soul.

Then I am shed like a worn overcoat--
shed like a sheep skin, like salt water from eye,
and then I miraculously continue on.
Flying and falling, flying then falling.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Earth Day is Everyday. And cute cat pictures.


I've been very blessed to grow up in a house with a big backyard. It really shaped my childhood, in a way. It definitely broadened my imagination. Outside, I could be King of the Jungle or back in the Jurassic period being chased by dinosaurs. I played in the mud extensively; I rode my bike everywhere; I created a world of my own. I celebrated the Earth. I celebrated being alive.



Earth Day is not just a lot of hype--or at least, it shouldn't be. This is our planet. Our planet, which we live in and thrive off of. But more so, it's God's planet. He created this vast, extraordinary place for us to call home with all its little phenomenons and miracles, and we should rejoice in that. It is a blessing, and we shouldn't take it for granted. We should take care of it.


In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, -- no disgrace, no calamity (leaving me my eyes), which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground, -- my head bathed by the blithe air and uplifted into infinite space, -- all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part and parcel of God. The name of the nearest friend sounds then foreign and accidental: to be brothers, to be acquaintences, master or servant, is then a trifle and a disturbance. I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages.
--Emerson's Nature

So as I was taking these pictures, our cat Lottie came to join me. I know I've shown everyone pictures of Kevin, but Lottie is a fairly new stray that's been hanging around. (His real name is Lancelot, named by my sister.)

So, like Kevin, here is a collage:


It started off with him chasing Romeo's leash. It was the funniest thing in the world.

Then he got kind of nervous because he wasn't used to the camera. He probably thought it was a gun or something.


This was a fail. But it makes me laugh.

This one was just lucky.

Anyway, I hope everyone is enjoying Earth Day. Really, I'm supposed to be editing my paper now. I'm almost done with it. I'm just too easily distracted.

Also, I watched the movie Roman Holiday last night with Karlee and even though it's in black and white, it was really good.

And I'm really behind at posting. Lookout for more pictures soonish.


Saturday, April 21, 2012


We've been covering haiku lately in my poetry class, so it seems like that's all I can really get myself to write at the moment, haha. Here are some contemporary ones I've written over the past week:

The room falls silent--
it wasn't me, but death
has snatched up someone.


Mass distribution;
a punishment for success,
reward for the poor.


It is where my misery lies;
a concave avenue
without a reference point.


I'm on my own, I'm told, though I
once was told the otherwise.
Now I trust not words, but eyes.


Sorry I haven't posted hardly anything this month. School has been really demanding this semester. Luckily, it's nearly over.

Speaking of my poetry class, I had to read this book of contemporary poetry and chose After by Jane Hirshfield, and it ended up being pretty good. It was like $10 as an ebook on Amazon.


Daily Words: Week 16

Day 106.
The word is...

to be added as a matter of periodic grain or advantage, as interest on money

Found: in Financial Aid stuff


Day 107.
The word is...

a cardinal number represented in the U.S. by 1 followed by 33 zeros, and in Great Britain by 1 followed by 60 zeros.

Found: "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


Day 108.
The word is...

inspiration; an impelling mental force acting from within
divine wind or spirit

Found: "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman


Day 109.
The word is...

to disturb or disquiet greatly in mind; agitate.

Found: while watching Grey's Anatomy
(I kind of knew what this was, but wanted to make sure.)


Day 110.
The word is...

state; condition

Found: mentioned by Deacon--his parents were watching War Horse


Day 111. Oooh.
The word is...


haughtily disdainful or contemptuous, as a person or a facial expression.

Found: in Grey's Anatomy.


Day 112.
The word is...

irritable; touchy

Found: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 27.



Wednesday, April 18, 2012

a letter to the boy who reasons with time.

To Deacon,

I think I know you.
But I wish to know you further.


I feel like time has a way of laying itself into my palm, as if I get to choose who to give it to. And I foresee myself giving quite a lot to you, if that is okay. My gift to you.


Today, you are eighteen. Today, they say you become a man. An adult.
It's a lot of pressure all for one day, I know. But I think perhaps you've already reached the point that they expect you to be at today. I think you were forced to grow up a long time ago, and time is slowly running to keep up with you.

You'll only be here once, they'll say. Maybe it's true, and maybe you should make the most of it. Take a few risks, take a few dares, defend what you have and defend what you love, and always know that though you're only here once, being here tomorrow is also an achievement.


I hope that somehow, I've given you some sort of comfort this past year. I know I'm stubborn, I'm hateful and sometimes I can just be rude, but through that I try to be the best I can for you, because I know that if anyone deserves it, it's you. And I know that my best is only a fraction of the best of you, but I hope you can give me time to improve on it.

This upcoming year will be difficult, I know, and I will not be right down the street for the majority of it. Despite that, I want you to put yourself out there--I want you to be brave and courageous, I want you to latch on to hope and success and keep them close, I want you to always remember me even when I'm far away, and I want you to see the goodness in a day even when it looks dim.


And don't go anywhere, I'll be back before you know it.

Love you, 

Sunday, April 15, 2012


I could not wake, for in my sleep
I dwell in possibilities.
Earth's gravity, anxiety
lack substance in my society,
along with my own mortality.


Saturday, April 14, 2012

Daily Words: Week 15

Day 99!!!
The word is...

bending readily; flexible

Found: After by Jane Hirshfield


ANNND...Day 100!
The word is:

characterized by a ready and continuous flow of words; fluent

Found: After by Jane Hirshfield


Day 101.
The word is...

incapable of being evaded; inescapable
(especially in the instance of fate)

Found: After by Jane Hirshfield


Day 102.
The word is...

[hwawrf, wawrf]
a structure built on the shore of or projecting into a harbor, stream, etc., so that vessels may be moored alongside to load or unload or to lie at rest; quay; pier.
a riverbank; seashore

Found: Narrative by Frederick Douglass


Day 103.
The word is...

[dol-er-uhs, doh-ler-]
full of, expressing, or causing pain or sorrow; mournful

Found: After  by Jane Hirshfield


Day 104.
The word is...

capable of holding much; spacious or roomy

Found: After by Jane Hirshfield


Day 105.
The word is...

lack of modesty; shamelessness

Found: Troy



Monday, April 9, 2012


I saw Titanic in theaters last night in 3D, and it was absolutely marvelous. I've come to the conclusion that I am in support of this whole re-releasing movies thing, because there's really nothing better than seeing a classic movie that you love in theaters. No disappointment, no plot twists, just everything you love about the movie on a bigger screen. It's magical.

I especially love that they released it again in memory of the sinking, which happened 100 years ago on Thursday.

I was actually more moved by seeing it in theaters than I thought I would be. I've seen the movie a dozen times and could quote the whole thing, but it really struck me. I even cried. When I got home, I started writing this poem immediately, and just finished it today.


A sharp outcry escapes my cold-covered lips,
echoing through the North Atlantic air
like a siren, though the passengers
have already gone deaf to the chaos.

I run back to you; latch on
to your overcoat; tangle my fingers in your tousled hair
and pray for just a stretch of a moment.
It’s time to go, they hasten, but I cannot—
my organs have compressed themselves within me;
my breath has expelled into cool night air.

“Only for a little while,” you whisper to me,
then bury your lips as a kiss in my curls,
but I know better. It is not;
you will not be able to swim back to me.
But you are my life raft; those are the paths
that lead to dry land separate from you.
In them, the cries will fill my head,
the desperate moans from those nearly dead,
and I’d rather not hear a dying man’s hour.

You are my haven, you’ll carry me home—
but you’ll catch the next one. And hope will be our
final farewell, as you insist.
And oh, how destiny has favored me—
that your love pushes me towards life,
and mine clings to your warm comfort.

Forsaking consent, I’m tossed towards a boat.
You wave goodbye as if it’s temporary—
I tremble and cry, as if tears could drown a survivor.
Take them down, I hear overhead,
then I descend towards the abyss
with the figure of you etched into the stars.

I’ll see you again, love—in the catacombs;
in the waterlogged tombs and sepulchers;
in the icy oceans of my memory;
in the nightmares that rise from the frigid sea.



Saturday, April 7, 2012

Some April 2012 Poetry (and other stuff)

I like a day of silence,
I like the time to think--
allow my mind to wander;
allow my eyes to blink.

I haven't posted in a couple days, but that doesn't mean I haven't been just means I haven't been writing anything outstanding. Haha. So I thought I'd pile everything up in one post, and give an update on how everything is going.

Well, it hasn't been bad. And I'm really looking forward to Easter. And the Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, which I absolutely love but have not eaten any yet this year. Though I did have a dream about them last night. We're heading up to my aunt's house today to spend the night and dye Easter eggs, like we do every year. And I'm really looking forward to the time there. I'll get time to read without the constant nag of homework in the background. Yay!

I got a screw lodged into my tire yesterday, luckily I was at a gas station when I noticed so Deacon was able to air it back up and we drove home safely. Dad went and got it fixed while I was at work, which only cost $8. Really, the whole situation had the best timing possible. And it reminded me of the nails in Jesus's hands the night he was crucified, which gave me a little bit of comfort and perspective. Everyone needs a moment of that during Easter. Or anytime of the year.

Also, I also like Thoreau's Walden. I haven't read the majority of it, but we discussed it in my Lit class and I remembered how much I loved it. Definitely worth reading entirely.

Alright, here's some more not-so-great poetry!


I grew up thinking I had a quirk
that I'd earned through birth, I'd made my mark
upon the earth. I differed from
the rest of all the boys and girls
because upon my milk-white face
I had a little mark of grace
that stood out like a drop of blood
upon purified drinking water.
The sharks could smell it--then they swarmed
me as I walked through the double doors
of higher education. Hurled
the most sarcastic compliments
like fishhooks sunk inside my cheeks.
They took their jaws, their sharpened teeth,
their jagged knives and daggers deep
into my flesh and skinned my soul--
my bloody wreck of face from bone.
I shivered, exposed to all the sea
writhing in pain inside of me.
They did not stop at just the mark,
but extracted my nose, my mouth, my blood
filling the gaps. But this was ideal
trade for tainting uniform beauty.

--inspired by Hawthorne's "The Birth-Mark,"


He looks like a troll, I think silently
the instant he stand before the room,
but as he speaks, the words flow through
the air and pass beneath my skin.
Perhaps he speaks in rhymes and spells,
I think while still in a trance.
As he retreats back to his seat,
I reason that trolls are full of surprises.



If that is what it takes to earn
a prestigious poetry award,
then I'm content without one.
Really. I'll continue writing for myself;
writing not based on society,
not in hopes that I'll win anything,
but based on my emotions. Based on
language that moves instead of drowns.
If I have no name but Honesty,
that is fine. At least my words
will be of truth and not of profit.



I like to see a dead tree
(because it once had life)
standing tall and proud in cold
weather; rain and ice
storming upon it, though its roots
do not alter so--
it waits for Spring and baptism
so it can stretch and grow.
I like to see this patient friend--
the glowing elderly--
still strive for life upon the weight
of age and quality.



We ought not be kept in bondage;
we ought not be enslaved.
We will not have it anymore.



Have a happy Easter, everyone!


Monday, April 2, 2012

A Dying Hour

Oh flowers, hovering like vultures
against my limp, vacant core—
you pick my flesh, tickle the hairs
and transfer your sweet perfume to me,
as if preparing me for burial.
On the pinpoint of death, on the cusp of life,
       I like to dwell here. Still in color,
still surrounded by reminders of prosperity.
Though it is not me, oh, dear ‘lions—
not me, follicle, capsule, samara;
he is indoors, obeying his orders
to adhere to medicine and breathing machines.
If it would be me you crave, descend!
      Decompose my bones; feast on my flesh!
      Drain the blood and life from me—
      because I doubt my prayers can rise
      above the thunderclouds that roll above.

He is not dead. He is not dead.
Dear uncle, come dwell in the transitive.


Sunday, April 1, 2012

Daily Words: Week 14

Day 92.
The word is...

neat; trim; smart
small and active

Found: Grey's Anatomy, season five. 
(We finished watching the season today!!)


Day 93. The year I was born.
The word is...

to feel sorrow over; repent of; regret bitterly

Found: all over the place.
I feel like I might have used it before as a word, but not sure that I have.


Day 94.
The word is...

of or pertaining to actors or acting
overly dramatic in behavior or speech

Found: Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich.


Day 95.
The word is...

[boor-zhwah, boor-zhwah; Fr. boor-zhwa]
a member of the middle class.

Found: Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich.


Day 96.
The word is...

[bruhsk; especially Brit. broosk]
abrupt in manner; blunt or rough

Found: in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 20.


Day 97.
The word is...

resolutely fearless.

Found: in Sweeney Todd (I think.)


Day 98. Gettin' close!
The word is...

awkward; clumsy
unusual or strange

Found: in Titanic.
(We saw it in 3D today!)


I know I'm way behind on posting.

Daily Words: Week 13

Day 85!
The word is...

a passage, hall, or antechamber between the outer door and the interior parts of a house or building.

Found: in 1 Chronicles


Day 86.
The word is...

 something, as an action or speech, that tends to flatter, coax, entice, etc.

Found: in "The Dover B----" by Anthony Hecht


Day 87. Whoo!
The word is...

noun. (or verb.)
a feeling of vexation, marked by disappointment or humiliation.

Found: in Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich, a book we're reading for Creative Nonfiction.


Day 88.
The word is...

an omen, token, or indication

Found: Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich


Day 89.
The word is...

of, pertaining to, or a characteristic of marriage

Found: Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich

Day 90. Whoo, getting up there!
The word is...

gaiety or jollity, especially when accompanied with laughter

Found: by Karlee, while reading Hamlet.


Day 91!!
The word is...

[door, douuhr, dou-er]
sullen; gloomy
severe; stern

Found: while watching Grey's Anatomy, season Five.