A Little Extra Spice (a poem)

A Little Extra Spice

Written April 16th, 2012

She’s not so different from me-

I mean –

Look at our grades

We study;

Diligent students

We dress tastefully,

Elegant and sharp

…with a little leg

And our hair is long

Silken brunette waves

Hers is a bit more curly- wild

But I guess that’s the symbol

Of what sets us

Apart

Please Smile (poem)

Please Smile

Written April 12th, 2012

My sweet angel

With eyes so bright

Please don’t cry

Have no worries tonight

I’ll always be at your side

No need to ask why

Please smile; joyous and wide

My sweet angel

With hands so soft

Please don’t cry

Let me wipe the tears

From your grey-blue eye

My heart is yours

To keep through all the years

That you have chosen me

Fills me with pride

Look at me, handsome one

Please smile; joyous and wide

Premature Rose (a poem)

Premature Rose

Written April 12th, 2012



A twisted malformed highway meanders inside

Coated in shattered glass and broken things

My legs are strong and carry me in stride

In my pretty head a free mind gives me wings

Elegant skin glows with soft sunlight

A picture of fortune and health on the outside

Yet on this paper I finally speak of a fright

I feel when the twists and pains leer on the inside

I grit my teeth, pretend it’s not there

I may as well run from my shadow at dusk

There’s no place I can go beyond its stare

I fear the inner scent of death and musk

(Dear Marius) Celebrating February on Easter (a poem)

Dear Marius

Celebrating February on Easter

Written April 10th, 2012

The sky is drawn up in pastels

And the wind carries a gentle chorus

Of chocolate coated childhood laughter

This colorful young day last year

You slipped from my grasp

We frolicked one last blissful time

Before you disappeared on a musical wind

Have No Fear (a poem)

Have No Fear

Written April 10th, 2012

This world is big

Floating in an infinite

Expanding universe

Darkness lurks

There’s hatred here

But have no fear

Your smile is wide

Atop a delightful

Infectious laugh

A sweet soul

Innocent and pure

But have no fear

I’ve walked so far

Across an unsure

Endless sea of time

To touch your love

To feel you near

I’ll shield you from fear



Whispers (a short story)

Whispers

Written March 15th, 2012

A hill of gray, white, black, pink, and purplish marbled stone slopes from the foot of a tall white guardian and down into the chill, foamy waters of Maine, painted now by a masterful artist in the sky who is currently traveling downward to the horizon.

            This hill of stone rolls and has slices taken from it, and there are holes and curves carved in its face from the gentle kisses of the sea that slowly make an influence over time. Some of the pock-marks are big as my fist, others have developed into cozy caves in which children hide and share secrets.

            The tinkling of children’s laughter holds hands with the cries of the gulls and the whispers of the water across the stones. While the children dance and play and explore, the adults sit quietly, listening, their eyes far away. Watching them, I know that they are thinking, trying to find the meaning in the whispers of the waves and foam. What is the water saying? And perhaps, I wonder, the adults are truly trying to find the meaning of their lives in those murmurings.

Letter to a Ten Year Old (a short story)

Letter to a Ten-Year-Old

Written March 1st, 2012

It was a radiant summer day when I skipped down to the end of the driveway at the bidding of my mother to fetch the mail. Birds sang and butterflies danced, their performances filling the pleasant golden air decorated with sunlight.

            I was only ten then, my proud first year of double digits that I had long anticipated. In those days, the world was so small and simple, consisting of only a fence that I frequently jumped to reach the field and woodlands, my house and family, and above everything a sapphire sky with rabbit tail clouds. What lay beyond those boundaries, my small microcosm, were only distant dreams and aspirations that I still had a long time to wait for.

            I hadn’t the slightest clue I was in for a big surprise when I delved my hand into that black metal box to claim what the world beyond my boundaries had sent my family.

            I was delighted to find that the letter on the very top of the pile was addressed to me. My wondering eyes poured over all the stamps and markings decorating the envelope, announcing the many distant incredible places the letter had journeyed through to reach me. Me, a simple, unimportant American ten-year-old.

Cold Night Craving (a poem)

Cold Night Craving

Written February 26th, 2012

Storm screaming outside

Within warm blankets I hide

Fearful of the cold

Wind howls in red rage

Desolate snow white-out falls

Pushing on house walls

Bright warm looks of love

On this night I will dream of

Escape from winter

The Tale of a Sailor's True Love (a poem, a dedication)

The Tale of a Sailor's True Love

Written February 25th, 2012

Many long years ago in a time of old

A goddess of unparalleled beauty ruled the sea

She alone brewed the storms and caused waves to fold

Sailors both loved and feared her dangerous beauty

The goddess delivered from the waves and her gentle breath

A daughter of her own creation, the fairest maiden

She walked upon the earth, a mortal vulnerable to death

Her beauty far surpassed her mother’s, who regretted what she had laiden

For no longer was the ocean spirit the object of lore

Her daughter traveled the lands, moving with a greater grace

It was her that all the men of the world came to adore

In all of history there was no more stunning a face

Procrastination Poem (a poem)

Procrastination Poem

Written February 24th, 2012

I do not want to do homework!

Two essays by Monday, you ask

Such a tedious, boring task

On America’s smoggy industrial histories

On top of worksheets full

Of logarithms and matrices

A paper dancing with symbols and numbers

With every new Pre-Calc term I learn

I just feel excessively dumber!

Oh, the hours I waste, toiling away

With headaches and pots of coffee to achieve

Stellar grades on material to be forgotten a year from today

I have great purple mountains

Against prismacolor sunsets on my mind

Visions of summer paradises with sparkling fountains

Begging to be written on any scrap I can find

Fantastical worlds of crystalline imagery

Powerful renditions of a childhood memory

But alas! I have homework!

Lessons from Sheba

Lessons from Sheba

Written January 8th, 2012

There is one person in particular that I know I could never forget, even if I made an effort. She was present in my life for almost my entire childhood, from when I was a year old until she passed away when I was thirteen. When I remember her, all I can do is smile and shake my head, still amazed to this day that massive influence she had on me as a child.

            One of my most cherished memories is when Sheba helped me overcome my fear of the dark. Growing up, I lived next door to my grandparents. Sometimes my mom would ask me to fetch provisions from their house when we ran out of things, like milk or sugar. When she asked at night, it was all I could do not to cry. I would run as fast as I could to Grandma’s house and back, convinced I could hear some awful monster pursuing me as I ran. When I darted up the porch stairs, I imagined grotesque, slimy, clawed hands reaching out from under the porch to grab my ankles.

One summer night, my family and I were sitting on the porch, just relaxing and talking. I looked out across the field and saw that it was full of fireflies, and I had the urge to catch them. But of course, my fear of the dark stood in my way. The field was a long way away from the comforting light of the house, and handling a flashlight and catching fireflies simultaneously would be cumbersome. But I was determined to go firefly hunting. So, I asked Sheba to come with me, knowing her presence would comfort me. Mom and Dad would be keeping a vigilant watch form the porch too.

Rooms (a poem)

Rooms

Written February 22nd, 2012

Music drifts down the halls

Piano crescendos and saxophone solos

Electric guitar screams and soft flute dreams

All spinning down the corridors

Inviting passerby to dance

One can listen in the lounge

A bright cozy room with plush rugs

Vivid expressionist paintings line the walls

By the soft warm hearth she can socialize

Or dance to the tunes drifting in from the halls

Forgetting Paradise (a poem)

Forgetting Paradise

Written February 22nd, 2012

Nestled in the depths

Of a luscious forest, overgrown

Surrounded by a ménage of sights and sounds

This should be the loveliest moment I have ever known

Yet as I lay, stretched in a bed of leaves

I keep forgetting that I’m here

In this delightful paradise of fairy dreams

How do I miss what I have so near?

Dappled sunlight falls and butterflies dance

But my eyes do not see

Cinnamon and mint and earthy aromas float

On a passing breeze that misses me