Babies are born,
nurtured by nuance,
and destined to dream.
Fallen StarsCan you really ever say goodbye,
to something fallen from the sky?
I count the stars that form the night,
with little to say;
my clouded sight.
Lightning LoveThe sky moves,
with lightning wrapped,
Lightning being the cloud’s mother,
they try to support one another.
more beautiful than ever.
Love StainsLove leaves a stain;
A dim shade of violet.
It drips from the lips,
forming a thick shield of silence.
Where there's willTime takes its toll,
on those who feel alone.
But like they always say,
where there's will,
there’s always a way.
GuidanceLife is good.
Life is great.
There are moments when we should appreciate,
the heavens that guide us.
I'll Wait by the WaterThis is the place where our memories began.
A creek at the bottom of a canyon,
red cliffs on either side and a giant
pond dam to the north that wildflowers grow on.
Paths that we created through the woods
and up and down those copper canyon walls
while we pretended to be wild Injuns
or wanted outlaws being hunted by a posse.
You were on your knees,
in the middle of the creek,
when I found you.
A neighbor girl, trespassing.
I had a mind to chase you off
until I asked what you were doing.
You looked at me, smiled, and said,
"Catching crawdads. Come help!"
After that day, we spent Springs and Summers
building fort walls and chasing frogs,
skipping stones and arguing baseball,
sharing comic books and trading punches.
You could hit as hard as any boy I knew.
We had our own bridge to Terabithia,
our own kingdoms of knights and castles,
won the World Series with back to back homeruns,
settled the Wild West and discovered gold in the mountains.
My parents thought you were imaginary
until I bro
How to Live in 2015Be born. That’s the easy part.
Beg for new toys or take someone else’s.
It doesn’t matter. Being selfish as a child is normal.
Being selfish as an adult is normal.
Get dirty. Stop taking everything
so seriously. You’re going to die.
Don’t worry, everybody does it.
Don’t fall in love, love is not a hole
to fall into. Run into love, headfirst.
Bite your tongue until
you can taste the word no.
Give away your secrets under a pseudonym
for someone else to sell.
Chop off your arms and legs to pay for college,
realize tuition rates doubled.
Get a degree. Find a job. Hate your job.
Find a vice. Keep it closer than your breath.
Find God in an alleyway.
Lose God like a set of keys.
Die and be reborn as a memory.
Die and be reborn as an afterthought.
Die and be forgotten.
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
an atheist's prayerdear god,
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
TapestryThe morning is a tapestry...
tripping over last night's grace,
I watch you weave your skin
and shake out your hair -
soft teal and jonquil
shadowing your cheek
as the curtains part between your hands.
Threads tangle as you turn,
dawn is a gentle lover,
and the tumble of birds
plaiting their soft notes
lingers on the pillows
where your smile is my undoing.
not grief, but something like itmy grandmother's tartan bag sits on an upside-down bucket in the basement,
full to the brim with little liquor bottles and cardboard boxes
I go to do the laundry,
pass it twice an hour
and every time, just for a moment, I think she's visiting
OC Meme*Copy this into your Meme..
-Choose 10 of your OC's
-Answer the questions
-Then tag 3 people
1.) 3, 7, 4, and 9 go ice skating. What happens?
2.) Its Christmas!!! 5 throws a christmas party and invites three people of choice. Who does he/she invite? What happens?
3.) 6 catches 2 dancing/singing to the 'spice girls'. What's 6's reaction?
4.) 1 and 10 are stuck in a janitor's closet. How the crap did they get in there?
5.) 4 confesses his/her love for 8. What happens?
6.) 3 walks in to see 6 and 7 making out in 3's closet.. What is their reactions?
7.) 9 and 5 have an argument that soon turns into a fist fight. How did it start? And How does 2 try to break it up?
8.) 6 and 7 are getting married! But 8 is in love with 7. What does 8 do?
9.) You here a knock on your door. You open it to see every one of your OC's bursting in to your home. What do you do?
10.) 2 admits to you that he/she killed 9. What do you do?
11.) Everyone gat
What We Eat to SurviveAlone, the air starts smelling like
scrambled eggs and a rat that
died in the wall. Mayflower sons,
Puritan daughters, that kind of lineage.
Alone, their thoughts detach from mildewed
ceilings. Crashed and peering under doors
with lurching frames, someone speaks.
Until. But nothing ever opens.
Alone, one voice in particular, and the train
across town interrupts it. One in particular,
murmurs an old song about the leagues of
suffering that half a century can bring.
Alone, and the first thing he sees are his father’s bones.
What we eat to survive. Cast iron shadows,
a fishing rod in the corner, sister’s torn prom dress.
What we eat to survive.
The WandererMy life itself was like a thick haze,
I recall barely living, simply moving,
From place to place.
So often I'd see myself in dreary corner,
Watching others go by,
Their shoes shuffling across the wooden floor.
As I slipped deeper into a living coma.
And then, I saw him,
Like a nightmarish figure from my darkest dreams.
When he spoke, it was in the quietest of voices,
But I knew I had to follow...
And wherever he went,
Wherever he forced me to tread...
I knew I would only step ever deeper,
Into the burning pits of hell...