Renate Isvak

Unwelcome

Sometimes,
people will ask me
things that I
don't want to answer.

What if I
don't want to tell you?
What if I
want to keep it to myself?

What if I
don't want to lie to you?
What if I
tell you the truth?

What if I
end up telling you
when it was a retorical question?
What if I
am silent and you expect an answer?

What if I
think it's not an obligation to tell you?
What if I
don't think answering is manditory?

I ask myself these things
as you ask me.

You have probably asked
that question
ten or twelve times.

But you know what?
I am just going
to wait.
And wait.
And wait,
for if I am
silent long enough,
you might figure out
that your question
is unwelcome.

~Renate Isvak

Puzzle Pieces

I see
why some people
just don't like
meeting new people.

Every person,
every face,
a new puzzle
to put together.

To solve.

With few,
every piece
looks exactly the same
as the next one,
each piece being placed
exactly where it shouldn't.

With most,
you can only
put the border together
because you have
no idea
what is beyond the surface.

With some,
you can't even
put two and two
together.

With others,
you don't even
yet have the box
that the puzzle
should go in.

Incomplete.

Rarely,
you see
the border,
the inside,
and the box
in which
to place the puzzle.

Complete.

~Renate Isvak

Chapter 1: Kloox

I watched Kaden as he walked over to the garden. I noticed a tiny swarm of five purple-skinned fairies fly over to him and try to grab his arm, trying to pull him toward the pond just a few feet away.
"What are they?" I asked myself. In an instant, a pink haired nimph appeared on my left shoulder.
"Just fairies. If you want to know more, I'll make you an offer." It said.
"What offer? Who are you?" I asked, suspicious.
"My name is Kloox. If you want to be my master, I'll tell you anything you want to know." He told me.
"Okay, sure. I'll be your master. We could use some information in the future." I answered, as I shooed off the fairies before they let Kaden drop into the pond.

Procrastination

Procrastination.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Thinking,
I still
have time
to do this.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Thinking,
I should
probably
start this.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Thinking
nothing.
Nothing,
because in a rush
I am to start and finish.
Realizing slowly:
I'm SO dead.
Time is ticking by,
slowly,
faster,
faster,
I would give anything
for a time machine right now.
So, instead of finishing,
I build a time machine,
a time machine to go back
and warn myself
of the danger
of procrastination.

~Renate Isvak

Patience

Some people say
that patience
is the ability
to wait for something.
I say
that patience
is not really
the ability
to wait,
but the ability
to do nothing,
think nothing,
and be aware
of everything
at the same time.

~Renate Isvak

Colors

Every personality
has its own color.
Red for the angered,
orange for the odd,
yellow for the bright,
green for the envious,
blue for the sad,
purple for the energetic,
pink for the girly,
black for the motivated,
and white for those
who have a touch
of everything.

~Renate Isvak

Generosity

What is considered
generosity?
Is it when
you give
someone
or something
everything that you have
to give,
or do the little things
count too?
Is it generosity
when you give them
material objects,
or things
that can't be wrapped?
It is up to you
to answer.

~Renate Isvak

Life

On the journey
of life,
you are left
to fend for yourself,
mapless,
on the winding roads.

On the winding road,
you are faced
with a choice,
two roads
are labeled.
"Wing it" and
"Be Prepared".

You don't know
which road
to choose
to lead the life
that you wish to live,
and because
the guide warned you
that there are no take-backs
in life,
you know
that you must choose
wisely,
so you pick the road that says:
"Be Prepared".

As you walk along,
you look back,
and see that
the sign
now says:
"Wing it".

You think,
Oh, well,
because there is now
another fork
in the road
that lets you pick
between
"Wing it"
and "Be prepared".
You pick
"Wing it".

You look back again
after a few steps.
It still says:
"Wing it".

The moral is,
whatever choice
you pick in life,
you're still
winging it.

~Renate Isvak

Obsession

Why can't you see me?
I yell at the top of my lungs,
yet you still don't seem to hear me.
I walk almost in front of you.
You walk on,
not seeming to see me.
I go directly in front of you,
and you walk through me.
I gasp.
I just felt like
a two-second snowstorm
just went through
my body.
Am I a ghost?
I ask.
No,
he says.
I am.

I should have stopped
obsessing over this by now,
but it is definatly not something
that I am likely to forget.

~Renate Isvak

Some Things Don't Seem to Need Questioning

It's amazing
that we all question
the big things,
but never
the little things,
and that the things
that we question
never seem to relate
to the present,
as they will to
the future.

We seem to question
the things
we will never see,
instead of the things
right in front
of our noses.

We question
the fantasy
of books,
but not
the things
so obviously
put around us
to question.

We question
the things
of the future,
but definatly not
the things
of the present.

Why,
I ask,
do we think to question
the things that do not exist
quite yet,
and not the things that are real.

The answer
is that
the things that exist
are boring
because they are real,
but it is the things that aren't
that really get the spotlight.

~Renate Isvak

Fear

Fear is like plump,
black, hairy spiders,
out to get you in the night,
like mistaking red sweaters
on your dresser for pools
of blood, and hearing
something that should be quiet
go bump in the night.
Fear is also like wondering
if your parents will “kill” you
for something you did,
but shouldn’t have,
like thinking you never
did your homework,
and wondering if you will
die today, or even tomorrow,
but the only thing
you need to fear
is fear itself.

~Renate Isvak

The Deep of the Night

It is completely dark out,
except the waning crescent
in the sky,
the billions of stars,
just waiting in the darkness,
Mars, the next planet,
blending with them,
and the feeling in my heart
that I get when
I sit next to you,
in the deep of the night.

~Renate Isvak

Imagine That

Did I just
imagine that?
Well, Sometimes
I imagine
some crazy story,
like rainbows
that carry me away,
or beautiful gardens,
and even being up
in the sky,
a giant telescope
to my eye,
so I see all
that is around me.
I can even imagine
magic powers and spells,
or me,
of all people,
not being clumsy.
There is a lot
that I imagine,
but what I cannot imagine
may be
what someone else
is imagining.

~Renate Isvak

The Wrong Assumtion

Sometimes,
people will look at you,
and say,
you're popular,
or you're a nerd,
you're smart,
or you're dumb,
you're cool,
or you're the exact opposite of cool,
you're in with the crowd,
or you stand out of it.

Maybe they will ask,
who wouldn't like to date you,
or who would like to date you,
who would give anything to copy your homework,
or who would be desperate enough to,
who could be popular just to stand next to you,
or who would risk the popularity they had to.

Some people will make
the wrong assumption,
but I say nothing.
At least, not until
I have a better idea
of what you would say
if you were in my head
for the day.

~Renate Isvak

Time Dies

Most of the time,
time flies,
but sometimes,
time dies.

When you do not want it to,
time flies.
When you wish it would go faster,
it slows
to a crawl
and time dies.

When you look to the past,
time flies.
When you wait for the future,
time dies.

When you know
you have to do something soon,
time flies,
but when you are anticipating,
time dies.

When the clouds roll past,
time flies.
When you wish there were clouds,
time dies.

When changes are visible,
time flies.
When there seem to be no changes to see,
time dies.

There are many things
that make time
fly or die,
but there are few things
that do both.

~Renate Isvak

Twelve

To be twelve
is to be so many things
that opposite.
To be fun
and boring.
To be sane,
yet insane.
To be odd,
but even.
To be seen,
yet invisible,
heard, but not heard,
evil, yet angel-like,
reality in a fantasy.
At twelve,
right and wrong
are exactly the same.

~Renate Isvak