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!

Honorable Mention wins me $25.00 and some respect

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.

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.

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.

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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.

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

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.

Platonic in the Potomac

(poem is still in the works but I had to set the title down somewhere)

Platonic in the Potomac
It's really hard to say
Even harder to feel the day you went away

Platonic in the Potomac
I thought it all would last
but you packed your case
and went back east
you mentioned something about finding peace

Platonic in the Potomac
I crossed the states divides
it was a 48 hour plus drive
to keep my eyes open I'd have to keep on hopein'
that I'd find our love's
neon sign still flashin' "Open"

Platonic in the Potomac
I arrived with less than leaving
my foolish smile on the dash of the car
you gave me praise for how far
I've come.

Platonic in the Potomac
lets not take it slow
and to hide my sorrow
I said I'd be back tomorrow
but instead

(got stuck here, edits later)

Kids with Cash

This is for the kids with car payments
This is for the kids with bank statements
They use their full names
middle initial
They can sign papers and make it all official!
Direct deposit the money
Don't ask me if its okay
I put in a lot of hours
and the money will show up in May
Pay stubs in the visor
Don't trust your college adviser
If so, get a receipt
Take it back with tags attached
Get a good deal
Check your grades
check your credit
This is for the kids with the plastic safety nets
Don't worry how bad it gets!
You're smarter for it
They'll all admit
under their breath.
This is for the kids with the cash in hand
This is for the kids with school at their feet.

Black and White Notebook #3-05

I take that bad day and push it into a small ball
a dot of ink on this pad
that I use when I'm mad
there are more fads to buy into
no more clothes that don't fit well
I've taken the initiative
this time.
I can watch the blue prints cry with sorrow
thinking of ending their lives and
making no tomorrow
a lot goes into creating the end
rusty blades
frayed ropes
All while I sit back and clear my throat
to watch it all unfold
I sit there holding a tattered tote
filled with rattling pills
I've found a secret door that takes me
to that place in the floor where music and smoke
fills the night air
an illusion is captured in a small glass jar
taken to heart
then thrown real far
my foot hits the black tar
and I cant find my car
its all a dream
you see?
I was just simply
wishing on a
star.

While sitting in my corner I quickly call
the coroner to advise my body is read to order.

Now I'm back
the florescent light shines for attention
as the instructor in the front is about to mention
something about cell division.

Black and White Notebook #2- 05

I am that spill in the grocery store.

I fell in the dark and my puddle
oozes and influenced the ground until dawn.
When I'm found
Shoppers will protest the grotesque display
as they pull out their wallets to pay

I am blocked off
in yellow rope
hopes of attention
I am only mentioned

My surface tension is broken by the
intention of your mop
as it sops
sops

You've cured the texture of the ground
with a simple cleaning solution
You have come to my conclusion
cleaned up my illusion
So I can say I love you
as my molecules diffuse
in the water of your bucket
you make sure I'm erased
that I am Safe.

Black and White Notebook #1- 05

I am crazy.
I contemplate issues that will never
arise in any conversation.
I derive in public.
I think I've done it
secularized my insanity and
destroyed humanity in my eyes.
Broken and apart I was left to rot in my room
where I riot about my dreams.
My blood steams and the scene is just too old.
I think he will give me his cold.

"The Road To Joy"

This time next weekend I'll be some where in the middle of Arizona expecting to find a difference in the sun's light at dusk. It's around this time next weekend that I'll be at the wheel of a car that I find to be ridiculous in size. This time next weekend I'll let my nostalgia wash over my mind, making all the sights, sounds and smells bigger than they have to be. I'll leave the dirt on my skin so I can wear it as badge of honor when I arrive at my destination. I want three state suns to shine on the crown of my head. I'm gonna bring my Ocean in the strands of my hair but the desert's tan in my hands. I wanna ask if we are out of the mountains yet. Are we near the red dirt? I'll find it tragic that a town can be dissected with two lanes. Everyone will complain.

My expectations will be higher than my state's chipped shoulders and the magic will only follow me through the Texas state line. Turns out, I was just riding on the sweet air's decline and the beauty will come harder and the sky light will work longer.

The Killers vs. Roxy Music (not really though)

One might say that these two songs can walk hand in hand and have a "glorious existence" together on a playlist... just sayin'.

The Killers-The World We Live In



Roxy Music- The Thrill Of It All

higher education is for the birds...

because they can fly really high!

So yeah, this "semester off" has resulted in boredom and A LOT of hours at work.

My first semester at a, real, four year college will start August 31. In the mean time, I will continue to lust after Brandon Flowers and hopefully continue re-reading a lot of stuff from past literature classes... cause I'm a "Literature Major", whatever that means.

In other news:
6 weeks till Texas road trip

you are apart of

Mediocrity,
it isn't funny to me

Now that I'm sitting inside the gray
day to day
I can no longer display
my tall talk of
schemes and half hatched dreams

Hours cemented to a muted, dark, blue
these thick walls block the skies vast views

I can no longer be a critic
as much as I want to stand alone
my feet refuse to move, they can only mimic

I no longer need a telescope to see
the waves of pity
for they are at my shore

I thought I had more

time

It's an oldie but goodie

Tapping at my door, dirt under nails, swish of shoes, creak in the floor, a bump, bump at the glass, ticking from the AC, illusion of rain, giving us a taste, we really exist, worth watering, swish, swish of dry skin, the wave of carpet as it meets bare floors, perfect excision for a shadow, block of time, color, space, earth, to build some steps to reach the shelf to get more pieces, to build a shelf to hold more pieces, waves of excitement, anxiety, joy, nothing settle, only the nose offending abruptness of our quick moving lights, perhaps a light musk of semi stillness, cold spot in the pillow, wiggle of toes, shuffling to and fro, sun engulfed skin, knowing that the trees are looking up for more reasons then thought possible

Barack Obama is a Hero of Mine

What do Brandon Flowers and Barack Obama have in common? They are both NME, Hero of the Year, nominees!?

I personally think Barack Obama and Brandon Flowers are a great examples of the modern day American hero.

Back in July 08 while I was wondering the aisles of Comic Con, I saw a shirt that portrayed, the then Presidential candidate, Barack Obama as a super hero. The shirt's image shows Obama ripping his suit and tie off his chest to reveal a Superman-like "O". By the 4th day of the Con, I decided to spend the last of my money on one of the shirts and I'm glad I did. In actuality,it's hard not to see Obama as a larger then life super hero that has saved/saving our country/world from villains like G.W. Bush, Dick Chaney and that evil, wolf killing, Sarah Palin.

But super powers aside and a few posts ago, I remember ranting and raving because John McCain criticized Obama for being too "eloquent". I also went on about other Obama opponents calling him an "elitist". I made my claim that there was nothing wrong with wanting to be an "elitist" and I was at war with the term "average American". I still believe that there is no such thing as an "average American" and we all have our own brand of awesomeness within us, somewhere. So yes, Obama is a hero of mine, his presidency has brought back our American-can do anything because we are the land of possibilities- air.

Now watch out, this is where the Brandon Flowers comes in:

If I can call Obama a hero then I can call Brandon Flowers a hero for some of the same reasons. Over the past 5 years, Flowers and co. have been proving to the world that they do not want to be an "average"(there's that word again) rock band. Whether it be in the clothes he wears, the statements he makes or the songs he and band mates write, Brandon Flowers and The Killers have never been afraid of wanting to be better. Yes, some critics have seen this "arrogance" as off putting but I, personally, see it as refreshing and inspiring.

I may not be a rock star or the President of the United States but I sure as hell want to be the best damn American Literature major/future professor I can be!

"I don't really mind that its starting to get to me"

The Killers Live From Abbey Road from booknutdc on Vimeo.

Justifying My Claim

This is where I stop trying to justify myself and start accepting the fact that I am obsessed with all things The Killers and Brandon Flowers. So "forget about what I said" in the previous post and expect to see more of the same (f0r now at least).

Though I may feel slightly embarrassed about some of these posts, I just have to remember that no one probably sees nor cares about what I say/write here.

Looking back at some older posts, from last year, I noticed that I had multiple posts about actor Sam Rockwell. I'm pretty sure the Sam Rockwell stuff is proof that I tend to create my own bandwagons and choose to never jump off of them... so I guess its more of a bandwagon train. Anywho, I blame MTV for my 30 second attention span.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah, bandwagons.

Yes, I missed the bandwagon when "Day & Age" came out in November and hence missed The Killers when they played a show in L.A.

Yes, I am upset that there are no San Diego dates scheduled and NO I will not waste the money and resources to go to Coachella to see them headline Saturday's show.

Ok then, I think thats all I have to say about this... Sam Rockwell-still cool, The Killers- still awesome(since 04), Brandon Flowers-still hot(since 04).

This train is now leaving the station.