Apr 24

All the Little Lights

All the little lights, 
twinkling in the city,
and I am only one.
I swirl through what seems like a million galaxies,
but I am only a speck in one.
My colors,
they bend and bring joy,
they reflect upon all who see them,
but I am only one.
I make this world a little brighter,
but I am only one. 
I have been places and seen
things that you could only ever dream of,
but I am only one.
I can tell you stories through thousands of centuries,
of lives lost, of souls healed,
of knowledge earned and knowledge lost,
of joy and anger and sadness,
of love and hate,
wisdom and foolishness,
great things and small ones,
summer days and winter nights,
the stars and the sun,
yet I am only one.
Reflect upon that.
I am only one,
one speck of light in the middle 
of billions of other ones.
The world can be a beautiful place
if you would only 
Nov 28
poem 3 comments challenge: Loss

Her loss, Her release

*For all the people who have lost a friend. I have never felt the
kind of deep pain that comes with it, but perhaps
this poem will make the pain hide for a moment.

That moment.

That moment when the world...
It goes on without you.
You see the people around you,
going on with their daily lives,
but you can't hear them.
You cannot feel them.
They are different.
They are whole.

That moment.
That moment when your heart...
It empties, once an oasis,
now cracked and
dry as a bone,
turned to stone,
no longer able to feel anything.

That moment.
That moment when the stars...
They cease to shine so brightly,
fading to a dim background
and becoming lackluster
and dull,
losing possibility and wonder.

That moment...
That moment when you feel like you're floating away...
Oct 25


I need 
to get out of this place,
where the ideas crush
my wings 
and chain me down,
instead of letting me fly.
I need to 
to get out of this place,
where the concrete
jungles loom,
and the smoke 
from the factories
clogs the air
and enters my lungs,
making me choke.
I need 
to get out of this place,
where the regular colors
are beige and gray,
and I've started fading,
slowly blending in.
I need 
to get out of this place,
where I've started 
to disappear at
the edges,
becoming like everyone else
in the crowd.
I need 
to get out of this place,
where I am slowly
and you can only 
see me 
from the 
and when you try to 
see me clearly,
I am not there.
I need 
to get out of this place
I am 
Oct 18
poem 1 comment challenge: Fractured

Peter Pan

Well, My name is peter pan,
I've come all the way from never land to 
take you on a trip.
What do you mean you 
don't want to come? 
You don't trust strangers that 
come to your house in the middle of the ni-
Oh. Okay. I get it, That sounds really creepy.
What's that? You didn't think I accepted girls
into my little band? 
Oh no no no...... 
I don't think you understan.
I am a girl! 
Why did I fall in love with Wendy?
I didn't fall in love with Wendy! 
That girl was an idiot! And honestly, SUCH an airhead.
Now tiger lilly....... she's a good one. 
And honestly, I only posed to be a boy to be more accepted 
by Victorian era culture and quite honestly,
modern day culture.
Oh, you think that's not fair? Well, that's the way the world goes round!
So........ I was thinking. 
All my past Lost Boys were idiots.
Oct 15


WInter is:
Looking outside realizing giant fluffy snowflakes
are slowly drifting down.
Winter is:
The snow slowly crunching underneath 
my boot-clad feet.
Winter is:
The snow angels,
where your butt-print is more
visible than anthing else.
Winter is:
Shoveling the driveway in the bitter cold,
your pants freezing to your legs,
Because the snow plow doesn't do driveways.
Winter is: 
When you realize that all the color you have seen in the past few months
is grey and white and grey and white and ohhh did I mention grey?
Winter is:
When you realize, the snow has melted into snow
and it squishy underneath your boots instead of crisp,
and you realize winter is over.
And then you miss winter,
because you never miss anything until it's gone.
Sep 27
poem 1 comment challenge: Fractured

Fairy Tale

As I learned long ago,
Life is not a fairy tale,
You are not a princess,
Kissing frogs won't get you a prince,
it will give you warts.
If you lose your shoe at midnight,
You're probably drunk,
and kidnapping is dangerous,
you should not mess with a Beast,
Never trust a boy with a feather in his cap,
and with long hair also comes
split ends.
Mermaids probably don't exist,
If they do they probably'll
die of polution.
We killed native americans
for centuries.
Elsa's snow powers
are no match for global warming,
And you never take food from a stranger,
But a child's imagination exists,
with all it's twists and turns,
and a fairy tale that does exist
is love.
Sep 27


Why write?
they ask,
Why write?
Because I can tell the stories
of the people who have no voices.
Why write?
Because there are thousand stories waiting there,
like a cherry blossom tree in bloom.
Why write?
Because I can give a voice to the pictures in my head,
that haunt me day and night.
Why write?
Because the anger and frustration
comes through in black and white.
Why write?
Because when the world is in chaos,
I have a place to rest.
Why write?
Because when you read I want to see
your face crinkle up in all the emotions
you feel when you read this poem.
Why write?
Because I can make a change in a world
where normally I have no power.
Why write?
Because I like it.
Aug 27


tried to upload this yesterday but it was all slow and glitchy and I had to give up. 
anyways. some more music, this collection using more or less the same theme throughout? just experimenting a little. it might be awful. 

these can still count for summer of stories, right? as makeup for the days i missed? 

Audio download:
scarlett 3.m4a
Aug 26

Flower Memories

Purple velvety petunias
​And waxy orange, red, and pink begonias
With dark green-purple leaves
Remind me of a huge almost empty house
​Clutter and worry amoung good intentions and grandeur
Like dust on purple petals
​And drooping pastel colors amid shiny leaves.

​Sunbeam soaked roses 
Belong to nervousness, curiousity,
Walking under a flower woven arch,
​And meeting tall students
Whose faces are barely in my sight.

A sunset dipped rose 
​Is the cover of a book
​Containing pictures of
​Confidence, triumph, celebration,
​And a row of friends who are almost like the families
​That sit watching, crying, clapping, and smiling.

Beautiful tangles of wildflowers
​Hold even more memories than colors.

​Blue chickory- catapillar hunting amoung the willderness of weeds
​That border the cracked sidewalk
​Near a South Burlington apartment.
Aug 25

I Still Need You

It may not seem like it,
And and I wouldn't blame you for not seeing it,
You're the only real thing I have left in this world. 
And I don't want it to break beneath my feet,
Or crumble at the seams,
So I need you to try and look harder,
Just a little bit. 
I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't still need you. 

Aug 24

Her, and The Ocean

Gasping for breath, she watched the waves... 
they fell upon the rocks so carelessly, yet, so perfectly. 

She had come to the ocean for a little peace and quiet,
away from the new screaming baby,
and her rambunctious brothers. 

But, she now noticed, it was never completely silent anywhere. 

She closed her eyes and listened.

In the distance she could hear the gulls circling
the fishing boats at the pier,
hoping that the crew would be careless enough today
to drop something for their poor, obnoxious beaks.

She heard countless dinner bells chiming,
signaling the swift return of children,
for their evening meal. 

The waves,
carelessly crashing upon the pebbly shore,
pulled the small stones back and forth,
back and forth; 
creating the effect of a rain stick
being tipped endlessly upside down. 

She rocked her small body
Aug 24


To me,
Vermont is Ben and Jerry's ice cream and
mid afternoon walks on Church Street.
Vermont is a place
where everyone is equal,
Vermont is a place where roots grow deep and
the sidewalk ends.
Vermont is past the concrete jungles and
the loud puffing factories,
past the huge skyscrapers and the
loud city streets,
Vermont is where the grass grows green and the
trees grow tall,
and deer lurk in the shadows.
Vermont is the place where the snow falls soft and
summers get hot
and where fall brings apple cider doughnuts.
Vermont is laughing children
that hide behind lilac bushes and
play flashlight tag in the dark.
Vermont is the place where
creemees melt and are licked by smiling children.
Vermont is the place where the light summer breeze carries the sound
of summer crickets.
Vermont is the place where cold noses are met by hot chocolate.
Aug 24

Dreaming You Dreams

I keep having crazy dreams about you,
And they make me feel a little uncomfortable,
But they also make me feel happy. 
In last nights you were crying,
So I comforted you,
Hugged you like you would for me,
Which made you stop,
And then you just...
And so now,
This morning,
I feel just about as confused as ever,
And a little bit angry,
That I can't seem to tell,
What this means about us,
Or if my dreams about you,
Make any sense at all. 

Aug 23


my head is full of thoughts
and they're exhausting
sometimes too exhausting
to bother vocalizing. 
my mother is frustrated
by my quietness
says that she misses a time when i 
i don't know what to say
whether to be sorry
that i don't currently feel compelled to babble
that my face feels still and quiet
and lighthearted chatter
feels like too much work.
or whether to argue
saying that it's not fair to ask me
to be someone i'm not
to do something that i don't do
because i used to do that. 
(did i? 
because i don't feel any different
than i used to)
or even whether to try and explain myself.
or maybe, 
i should fake, 
think of something that sounds like 
the kind of thing she says i used to say
and talk about it
even though talk feels exhausting
and i feel tethered to my dreamworld
Aug 23

eclipse thoughts

it was like watching paint dry
except that it was very special paint
that i knew i would never get to watch dry
ever again--
cosmic paint. 
paint so dangerous
and so awe-inspiring
that i had to look at a projected image
that didn't even resemble the paint itself. 
a once-in-a-lifetime

but when all was said and done
it was still paint. 
and i couldn't figure out
whether i should be agog over the symbolism
staring at the little crscent shape
through the pinhole
knowing that the sun was being spectacularly eclipsed behind me
so spectacularly that i could not even look at it
or whether it all built up to nothing. 

i compromised, 
my friend admired the crescent
and talked to it like it was cute
i yelled at her to stop babytalking the eclipse
we stuck our hands on the paper
Aug 23
poem 2 comments challenge: Life 2.0

She Dreams A Little

She breaths the air beneath her feet,
And walks down the path of life,
As she holds on as tight as she can,
By a single, dangling, thread.

She grabs the world by its shoulders,
Shaking it,
Making it feel alive,
So she can live only the same.

She holds the hope that the sky will only shine bright,
As she lasso's the sun,
And holds the moon captive,
In the palm of her hands.

She dreams a little dream,
That everything is fine,
But she holds a mask to her eyes,
So she can only see what she wants to.

She lives her life in fear,
But she only wants to be happy,
As she holds her life's hand,
Only one last time.


( Photo credit: Google Images, Creative Commons License, One Person Standing Alone)
Aug 23


​Mevibra colors and
​Extraganol shapes
Collide in a puzzle piece universe.

The shlooming mosiac
With telescope view
Moves like a hypnotist's pendulum.

Eyes are consumed by this clamattic world
​Ears are shrouded with indifference
To surrounding infinty with it's unaquk asymetry.

Till the trapizoidal brustrokes of sight
Reveal their drading color
Then the color-gazer must use rainbow plastic
For kindeling.

Aug 22

It's Over

Gasping for breath,
She watched the waves,
As the salty air choked the inside of her throat,
And the smell of fresh fish stung her nose.
The waves jostled her boat,
And it rocked side to side,
As she held on for dear life,
To the rope of the sail.
The rain poured down hard,
Like hail landing from all angles,
And just like that,
She couldn't take it anymore.
It wasn't the rain,
It wasn't the sea-sickness,
It wasn't even the putrid smell of fish and salt.
It was the fact that she was lonely,
And she was scared.
All she wanted was to be happy and courageous.
She let go of the rope,
And she fell overboard.
She sunk down and up,
Playing this fighting game with the water.
She didn't want to fight,
She just wanted to be free.
So she went up one last time,
To let the ocean know she hadn't given up,
Just lost against it.
Aug 22

I Woke Up

People fall asleep at night,
In some way, shape, or form.
It may be harder for others,
Me being one of them,
Or it can be as simple as sipping a straw.
Either way,
Most people wake up in the morning,
They do whatever morning people do,
And move on.
You see,
That doesn't happen for me.
I wake up,
As in my eyes open,
But my mind doesn't move on.
All day,
It feels like I am stuck in sleep,
And that's why I'm quiet all the time,
Why my listening skills could improve,
Why I make stupid mistakes.
But a few days ago,
I was walking around for whatever reason,
And then you just appeared out of nowhere.
It was startling actually,
And I didn't know what to do.
But all of a sudden,
Everything just...
Made sense.
I felt like I was reborn or something.
For the first time in my entire life,
I think I finally woke up.
Aug 22
Maisie N's picture


I spent most of today
Floating up in space
My head in the clouds
My heart in the air
I kissed a solar eclipse
Right on the lips
A secret that only us
And the stars could share
I spent most of tonight
Fighting back my tears
Because after a long day without caring
I'm left with my fears
And I just don't know
How I can live
With the weight of the world
Resting on my shoulders

Because I'm a sunrise dressed as dust
I'm a moth drawn hopelessly to a flame
I'm an iron soul, covered in rust
And I've only got myself to blame
Because you and I used to be us
Back when I used to laugh and dance in the rain
Now I'm afraid to go outside
Because even slight movements bring me pain.

I would fancy myself a great explorer
But now I'm only filled with regret
What didn't I see? What could I have done?
So I take myself back to the night we met