Monday, December 30, 2013
HEY!
IT'S NEVER OVER...BLOGGER!
Might be picking up where I left off in 2010...since I'm a mature 27 year old woman and all. Ha!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
On a Day in May
The sun was fading in the western sky.
A new heart untouched, covered by the sea.
Time counting down as the hours float on by.
Change in face, in grace, has made them want me.
An update with a photo, it’s simple.
Displaying my colors like a peacock,
glance in the mirror, check for a pimple.
Stomach turn, time is calling from the clock.
Feet on the ground among the sea of roofs.
You shake my hand, the sun makes us glow.
We walk under shades and speak our truths.
This short meeting sold us and we now know
the search can stop and our hearts will unite.
From then till now, my love, a kiss goodnight.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
NO...
I do not want to start dancing around University Hall while The Shins play
In my head.
NO
Nope, not me!
I'll sit here with my red drink and picture it
flat on my butt
It was warm in this building when I got here but
I got use to it.
My back hurts sitting on the hard ground
I'll get use to that later.
I'm too early for things to go up or down.
I'll just sit here and list things that I do not want to happen
while sipping on my cold syrup.
It's so cliche it makes my brain freeze
I never said please and I never said stop!
I cant relate, man... go tell your tales to someone who was there from day 1.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
the floor with a view
all of what I thought I knew is visible from here
flat on my back
looking up
my old things hang from dusty shelves
I can see the new shapes take form with every passing
of the fan blades
shadows on the wall grow bigger
I grow smaller
Gravity keeps me locked
another man's theory keeps me outside
a glad creates
all as the celluloid keeps burning
Still here
within my four familiar walls
unsure of whats really in here
Something tells me I'd be a wreck without the fear.
-----------------------------------------------------------
It never makes sense to me, why I didn't write what first came to mind. I intended to write these words but what came out on the screen was something less developed. Maybe my hands liked what is was pouring out and my brain went with the flow of my fingers. Mini minds of their own, many years ago they could even dial a phone. My intentions where not these few words either. Perhaps what I really want to type feels like it needs a disclaimer, an introduction or what I'm doing here, an intention. So here it is, for no rhyme or reason:
My pink bras hang from my Menorahs
a collection of Santo cards look on with their weary faces
the fan casts blinking shadows on the walls
nothing is what it seems
when I'm on the floor
flat on my back
this place is not my own
Where have I been and what am I doing?
Where Have I Been And What Am I Doing?
WHere HAve I BEen ANd WHat AM I DOing?
WHEre HAVe I BEEn AND WHAt AM I DOIng?
WHERE HAVE I BEEN AND WHAT AM I DOINg?
WHERE HAVE I BEEN AND WHAT AM I DOING?
-----------------------------------------------------------
I cant seem to find that person in me anymore.
What do you mean? What person?
My inner voice that kept me company for so many years!
After social gatherings after work and school, it was just me and me.
What is it now?
Now its just me talking to myself.
I've never gone anywhere, I've been here this whole time!
I don't believe that.
Well who do you think you are talking to now?
Not the me I knew before, that's for sure.
Not having that familiar voice make me feel like I'm chasing a dissolving night's dream. Every time I try to remember the sound, it drifts farther away.
That sounds horrible!
You should know.
flat on my back
looking up
my old things hang from dusty shelves
I can see the new shapes take form with every passing
of the fan blades
shadows on the wall grow bigger
I grow smaller
Gravity keeps me locked
another man's theory keeps me outside
a glad creates
all as the celluloid keeps burning
Still here
within my four familiar walls
unsure of whats really in here
Something tells me I'd be a wreck without the fear.
-----------------------------------------------------------
It never makes sense to me, why I didn't write what first came to mind. I intended to write these words but what came out on the screen was something less developed. Maybe my hands liked what is was pouring out and my brain went with the flow of my fingers. Mini minds of their own, many years ago they could even dial a phone. My intentions where not these few words either. Perhaps what I really want to type feels like it needs a disclaimer, an introduction or what I'm doing here, an intention. So here it is, for no rhyme or reason:
My pink bras hang from my Menorahs
a collection of Santo cards look on with their weary faces
the fan casts blinking shadows on the walls
nothing is what it seems
when I'm on the floor
flat on my back
this place is not my own
Where have I been and what am I doing?
Where Have I Been And What Am I Doing?
WHere HAve I BEen ANd WHat AM I DOing?
WHEre HAVe I BEEn AND WHAt AM I DOIng?
WHERE HAVE I BEEN AND WHAT AM I DOINg?
WHERE HAVE I BEEN AND WHAT AM I DOING?
-----------------------------------------------------------
I cant seem to find that person in me anymore.
What do you mean? What person?
My inner voice that kept me company for so many years!
After social gatherings after work and school, it was just me and me.
What is it now?
Now its just me talking to myself.
I've never gone anywhere, I've been here this whole time!
I don't believe that.
Well who do you think you are talking to now?
Not the me I knew before, that's for sure.
Not having that familiar voice make me feel like I'm chasing a dissolving night's dream. Every time I try to remember the sound, it drifts farther away.
That sounds horrible!
You should know.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Vestiges of a day in July
lights from houses compete with the skies memory of the sun
people quicken their steps to feel safe under the last few hues of blue
bare feet on concrete can still absorb the days heat
whats left of it
pine tree needles seem soft
the webs in them begin to hang heavy
bike reflectors shimmer while headlights become more obvious
drive with the windows open to catch the declining warm sweet air
whats left of it
people quicken their steps to feel safe under the last few hues of blue
bare feet on concrete can still absorb the days heat
whats left of it
pine tree needles seem soft
the webs in them begin to hang heavy
bike reflectors shimmer while headlights become more obvious
drive with the windows open to catch the declining warm sweet air
whats left of it
Monday, June 22, 2009
I'm over here now
This is where I am .
The same Hot Pocket taste
in my, now, familiar mouth
Humming A/C air blows my hair
Same old ways with new days ahead.
A time like this passes
as fast as your eyes follow a wandering fly
trapped in the back room.
Alone with someone
is and will always be a riddle.
The same Hot Pocket taste
in my, now, familiar mouth
Humming A/C air blows my hair
Same old ways with new days ahead.
A time like this passes
as fast as your eyes follow a wandering fly
trapped in the back room.
Alone with someone
is and will always be a riddle.
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