Saturday, October 24, 2009


I suppose light is far away, and close. Dignity as well.
We can look at leaves through the window all day and wonder all day why we are only looking at the leaves of trees through the window. We can stare at the fence holding in our pets and wonder if it is really moral. We can stare into the eyes of a broken soul and think that they have the answers; they just won't put them to use. We can set on our asses and write blogs all day about how we think and how others do, but will we ever really... will I ever really, make a difference? Or will I sit behind a screen with a mind using the very essence of idle to talk through a motionless matter? I'm not imagining I'll do anything less or anything more; I am just being like everyone else. I am pointing out the obvious so that I may seem slightly at fault but yet slightly above everything else. Is it working?

Sunday, October 11, 2009

International Center Of "everything that matters to us"

We are a little like a guide book.
"Configure your adapter"
Start>All programs>Accessories>Command Prompt.

The beginning>Of everything that matters to us>And everything that matters to anyone that matters to us>I'll tell you what you must do, promptly.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

No one reads this.

I don’t convene thoughts in my philosophy chair anymore and I’ve allowed my window to slip away.
I haven’t been proficient, nor have I seen the moon recently… excluding my talent for graphic reminiscing.
I suppose I’ve allowed my imagination to slip away, any ideas on obtaining it?

Monday, August 24, 2009

Your vintage, modern, grown-up infant.

An exciting sense of realization.
A new view of a modern kitchen appliance, though I'm far from in a modern environment.
The creativity of a historical studio in New York, in a small town farm house.
The inspiration of a goose-bump itself, A romance so dear,IT'S silk. It's scary and your fierce. Sweet boy, I've never loved, before I loved you as I do now.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Silk traffic.

I ran out in traffic so that you would save me because I didn't want you to feel bad for what you could do to me. You asked what I was thinking and I replied, "You have no need to be afraid of hurting me, I owe you my life don't I? You saved it."

If you have ever truly stared at a feather you will notice the softness of it puts silk to shame.

It's only okay when I'm the one using humor in your goodbye.

You've excelled deeply in the art of goodbye.
Is it getting easier for you while you excel, or does that dramatic effect of yours, really mean it is painful?
Does it matter that I didn't stay calm and collective this time? Does it matter that for the first time, you gave warning?
Does it matter that when you didn't listen to me, I ignored you humor?
Does it matter that never before have you seen a little bit of human nature exist in me and now you have seen it full throttle?
You said see you all in hell, I say get your own line, that is far too common... But I want to say I'll be counting down the days.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Dear _______ ,

The poetry you wrote was never yours, rather than a bearded man with a football and a cheesy smile. I would have liked it better coming from you.


Do indeed, fear the future.
The nose of a child, held high, not knowing she is being reconciled nor recorded.
The disgust towards a boy who knows not but porn and ignorance.
The genuine girl with no personality and the girl hidden behind the wall of shyness and the fear of judgment.
Take a second-glance; some things don't change with time.
A boy with so much love in his soul you feel it radiate, he crafts custom shivers down your spine. He is goofy to hide the feelings.
A person who does well in the comfort of boredom.
A creative genius often seen from the past.
A little note that makes you roll your eyes. No one cares about security?
Status in the form of school uniforms and private labels.
Gossip spreading through the air making you cringe and the sent of nothingness.
Dehydration, and nick names.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Originality is the last thing from original?

Ah, The same is bland?
Happy music to block you out. :D
This attempt will work, compliments to Eli for his i-pod suggestion and i-pod. :D
All the smiles in the world,
All the flowers that grew wild,
All the old women with their committed old men on Sunday mornings.
I love to be dazed; He compared me to the moon, elegant, mysterious. He said I was like a child, just want to be myself.
He says my fantasy world is wrong, but I love weeds.
I like to believe that it is the life I will live one day, I am aware I’m not proactive.
You still like me, opposites attract?
But I like daisies and the way I imagine fresh air smells.
I like to fly with my wings.
I like to soar through hail.
I like to roll in the mud.
I like to scream and act up when I’m alone.
I like to be a hypocrite of my own mind.
I like to be in control and be controlled.
I like to be stubborn and I like to be convinced.
I sail on a pony too the moon and I don’t care if you don’t think I make since.
I want to live in a box but I’m claustrophobic.
I want to make sense but I’m too ironic.

A failed attempt.

I’ve became a world of fashion rather than a world of grace, though I’m not trendy, and I don’t try enough.
Grace used to be a given, shut up.
I’m trying to write, I don’t even care what you’re saying, I’m rude.
One day I’ll burst, stop intruding on my happy writing.
Where was I? No, I’m not arguing with myself.


Would the speech just end, I don’t even glance at you.
Do you fail to recall how irritated I am by you?
Do you not realize? I know you’re capable of comprehending.
You are a hypocrite, pretending not to know an adequate amount, shoving people around like you are the one in possession of the sky, yet rolling your eyes and overly sighing when people annoy you or distract you in the slightest bit, laying judgment on others.

You are not even conscious of the sky. When was the last time you stopped, shut up, comforted your soul, and gazed at the clouds or the stars or the blue sky? Ever prayed for the moon?
No, because you are too busy pushing your way through life with a stupid excuse because your thoughts are scrambled. I know you could work through that. I’ve never really had the urge to snarl at a person until I met you, but you will always be too oblivious to see you are the only person that can make me so unmerciful.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I tried it, I'm sitting in a library, my computer at home broke.
I tried to gain a pound in one day once just see if it would bring me down.
I tried to not curse infront of strangers.
I tried not to curse.
I tried to ride my poney everyday.
I tried to gain all of my third grade knollage back.
I tried not to care.
I tried to care.
I tried not to be angry.
I tried to hold a grudge.
I tried to learn Frech.
I tried to be special.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to look happy.
I tried to look angry.
I tried to be thrilled.
I tried to be scared.
I tried to be calm.
I tried to be the same.
I tried to be different.
I tried to be busy.
I tried to be free.
I tried to fly.
I tried to be down to earth.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to be sexy.
I tried to look bad.
I tried to stand out.
I tried to hide.
I tried to look unhappy.
I tried to look glad.
I tried tried tried to understand why I try when you already love me.
And I love me too.
I tried to figure out why we do.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

If you wish to remain standing in my path,
I am not eager to prohibit you, but you ought not condemn me for the imparities, for the pain, I will incidentally cause.
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being calmed,
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
I felt thoughtless when you vanished from my view, but you appeared gorgeous in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.
Though more illiterate than ever, I just don’t relate to myself anymore.
If I could be less complicated:
If you please to stand in my way,
I am not willing to stop you.
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being comforted.
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
I felt numb when you disappeared from my sight, but you looked beautiful in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.