Mar 09

Brave

Be brave.
She whispers in my ear,
late at night,
in the dimmed light of my room.

Be brave.
He says before I line
up to race,
for what could be the last of the season.

Be brave.
They shout up
to me, when I can't
go any further.

But what if I can't be brave?
What then?

Be brave.
I say to myself.

Be brave.
Mar 08

What To Say When You Don't Know How

"Keep the ones that heard you when you never said a word."
-unknown


To have found you,
in the off chance,
maybe.
Life is luck is chance.
And that's what it was that I met you.

You are my other halves,
my stars, and my sun
(I'll be the moon),
my trails on the mountains -
for those times I get lost,
or my life vest
for when I'm drowning
though you would think it unheard
of if I were drowning.

You know me - 
but you get me.

You share my passions,
you understand my hardships.
You are there for the times I need you,
there for the times I don't,
and all the times in between.

You are there for the lunches
where we discuss politics, injustice - and justice,
the days where you organize school walkouts,
and for the days where we discuss...lesser topics.

Nothing

It's dark.
Not dark, devoid of light.
The lightless dark invades my eyes
willing me to make sense of the world
I'm in.
But, there is
nothing.
Nothing to see.

It’s heavy.
Not heavy, stifling.
It squeezes, it pulses, it pushes, it pulls.
It snags in my fingers,
and weaves its way between my toes.
I reach out to grab it.
But there is nothing.
Nothing to feel.

It's quiet.
Not quiet, soundless.
I turn slowly, my feet making no sound.
Not a stomp. Not a pop. Not a tap.
Not a whisper.
For there is
nothing.
Nothing to hear.

I am alone
in this world of
suffocating dark
silence.

I call out.
But I cannot speak.
I run forward.
But I go nowhere.
I am pointless,
nothing.
No one.

It is still dark.
It is still silent.
It is still smothering.
It is everything and nothing.
Mar 07

Grains of Sand

An hourglass
turns.
Lazy blazing afternoon light
catches the glass angles and
glints off
reflecting the stars.

Somewhere a single bird calls,
a river trickles,
and children laugh in a field.

A grain of sand slides slowly,
drops pitifully small,
and sits at the bottom.

Somewhere a small,
brightly colored, waxy,
candle is blown out,
marking one more year.

Another falls. Two.
Now they are together
down there on the bottom. They are lonely,
but at least they are not alone.
Feb 09
poem 2 comments challenge: Nothing

Paradox

Did you know that the
sun and the moon will never meet?
Did you know that the stars can
only see at night?
Did you know that
trees greet the earth
wholeheartedly
but rocks grudgingly surrender?

The sun peeks over the mountains
just as the moon goes
home for the day.
The stars are quiet during the day
but open their bright questioning
eyes when they will be seen.
Trees stand talls,
and the rocks are jealous.

And did you know that the ocean
will never truly reach the sand?
And have you ever wondered why
the wind blows?
And why the fire leaps about
as if wishing to play,
but is too fast
for you to ever be friends?

The ocean keeps running
and breaking
and turning 
and circling around.
And the wind wishes to sing
but never learned how so it cries
and wails instead.
And the fire
will try to smile
Feb 08

I Went To The Mountain

I went to the mountain
because it was calling me.
It thrust its voice out into
the air and said,
"Come see the world.
Feel the dirt between your toes.
Smell the river.
Hear the trees speak."

I went to the mountain
because it broke the clouds.
Damp air pulls at your hair
and the wind lazily floats around you,
until it screams.

I went to the mountain
because it seemed older than time.
Long ago--you can see it--
it was sharp
and jagged
and terrifying.
Now it's quiet. Steady.
As relentless as the rain.

I went to the mountain
to cleanse myself in the dirt
and the mud.
The rain and the snow.
The sun and the sweat.
To go back to the
proximity of our origins.

I went to the mountain 
to take a break from the world.
It is pure there.
No hate.
No judgment.
Just the steady, ragged,
Feb 06
poem 0 comments challenge: Haiku

Sprout

he talks so much talk
and he walks even more walk
but it can't be real...

clapping, more standing,
written prompts. (for those who
don't agree with him)

hurting so many for
his whimsical fancies...
"for what?" I told you.

so much "gain" for so
little gained. it was just dumb.
they still did it... why?

did you know what would
happen when you put him in
the office? did you?

did you know enough
about him to realize
that it would end like

this?
Feb 02

Ordinary Girl


*more to come soon. look for a piece of the same name. i'll add this at the top and continue from where i left off*

She was an ordinary girl. It was an ordinary Monday morning and nothing was wrong. The car door grumbled angrily as she opened it. She ducked out saying a hurried goodbye to her older sister and slammed the door behind her. A light drizzle was coming down. It snatched in her hair and left tiny droplets. She hunched her shoulders against the cool autumn wind. It frisked around her in a manner that pulled at her sleeves and whistled through her warm layers. She shivered slightly as she walked quickly towards her school. The asphalt sidewalk was uneven in places. The rain that had been coming down steadily since early that morning had gathered in the divots. Water splashed up from a puddle she stepped in on to her jeans. It seeped into her shoes and skin immediately, adding to the damp feeling she already had. 
Jan 26
rant/rave 1 comment challenge: Slam

A Rant On All The Things I Haven't Screamed About In A While

how can you climb
up when
the world keeps pulling
you down?

it is hard.
i'll say that.

i think that the spiteful words would be
raindrops on a sunny day.
they keep coming,
even if you put an umbrella up.

(and even then
you still get wet)

and hopelessness
could be those days that
the sun comes up,
but you never really see it.

(because its been
hidden away behind the clouds)

and the fake
laugher, smiles, agreement, and faces
that you try so hard to keep coming
throughout the day,

could be when the sun tries to shine through the clouds
(those partly cloudy days).

why must everything be so
hard,
and muddled
and broken?

for one day
can't we have some peace?

its a never ending
struggle
of balance
and power.
Jan 23
poem 1 comment challenge: Love

10 Steps

At first, it's 
quiet.
But not quite
silent.
It is a tranquillity.
And there is still an unworldly presence
that you can hear.
A power.
In it.
In you.
It is a tangible substance.
Dense, oily, heavy.
The power will engulf
you.
Crush you in its unyielding grip
if you're not careful.
For it is dangerous. 
But it is kind.

Second,
a small swish.
Your legs.
Pumping furiously.
Propelling you forward.
The quiet is slightly broken.
A hairline fissure.
A seam.
It's still there though.
Waiting.
Your arms will tighten.
Squishing your ears.
Faster.
You will feel the part
of the waters in your ears.
Through your hands.
It is a glorious feeling.

Third,
the power will stretch tight.
Taught.
And then it will snap.
Your head will surface.
Inhale.
A release of pressure.
Audio download:
10 Steps.m4a

Pages