"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Hiding From the Storm (a poem)

Hiding From the Storm
Written March 31st, 2011
The rain is falling outside
Pattering softly on my window
Playing the soft tune
Of a lullaby
On my roof

We are hiding from the storm
Tucked safely in each other’s arms
Keeping the cold away
Separated from this harsh world
By the blankets around us
Nothing can hurt us
Him and I
While we’re surrounded
By this love

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Seasons of the Heart (a poem)

Seasons of the Heart
Written March 30th, 2011
My lips are cold
My heart is dead
Winter has its hold
In my soul, in my head

He left me here
On my own
Abandoned in this frozen tundra
A sea of white and ice

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Three Roads (a poem)

Three Roads
March 29th, 2011
I see three roads before me
One I will have to take
And knowing the habits of fate
They'll each be rocky
And the decision will be hard to make

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Big Brother (a poem)

Big Brother
Written March 23rd, 2011
I grew up an only child
Among adults, coinciding in their world
I followed their example
Reading and writing preferred over play
I liked to learn new vocabulary
Instead of playing with dolls all day

I often wished on lonely days
Hanging upside-down off the couch
To amuse myself
With only T.V. for company
That I had a brother.
Perhaps a little one would be nice
To look after like the adults looked after me
But a big one would also suffice
He would play with me and protect me

The Monster in My Memory (a poem)

The Monster in My Memory
Written March 21st, 2011
I remember you
The face carved into my mind
I know it won't fade
A persistent stain
I remember us
How you kissed me
Held me
Your hands burning my skin
You said you loved me
I had never had anything like you
I was starved for love
Clinging to you
You were life, breath in my lungs

Monday, March 21, 2011

Elusive (a poem)

Written March 21st, 2011
I see it there
Shimmering before me
An iridescent wisp in the air
I have to be quick to snatch it
Before it goes away
Scattered by a tiny breeze of distraction
It won't stay

Put Me to Sleep (a poem)

Put Me to Sleep
Written March 20th, 2011

Put me to sleep
Let me fall down to the sheets
Face down in the pillow
Please don't wake me
Leave me here
In this blissful coma
I don't want to wake up

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Barefoot Day (a poem)

Barefoot Day
Written March 20th, 2011
The robins have taken wing
The squirrels come out to play
The black birds begin to sing
Today is the day

The sun shines down on the grass
All the snow melted away
Nearly dead, but free at last
Today is the day

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Forgive Me (a poem)

Forgive Me
written March 30th, 2011
Forgive me,
But I'm confused.

Being with you
Is the easiest thing to do
We laugh and smile
The time spent worth my while
We hold hands and play
Can't think of a better day

Forgive me,
But I'm confused.

The day comes to an end
I'm alone, without a friend
Curled up in bed
Left alone to my thoughts instead
I get all tangled up inside
Doubt reaches high tide
Suddenly, being with you
Is the hardest thing to do

Friday, March 18, 2011

Dumbstruck (a poem)

written March 18th, 2011

My stomach twists
But I'm not sick
I clench my hands into fists
But I'm not angry
My heart hammers in my chest
But I'm not running
My mind is racing
But I'm not taking a test
I feel like I can fly
But I don't have wings
I want to sing
But I can barely speak

You just walked by me
And smiled

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Tangled (a poem)

Written March 17th, 2011
You're looking at me
With those sparkling eyes
Suddenly I can't think

Your lips part and you laugh
So beautiful, so uplifting, so seductive
Suddenly I can't breathe

You're touching me
Leaving trails of fire on my skin
Suddenly my heart stops

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Hero (a poem)

written March 16th, 2011

I'm dangling from a ledge
Thirty stores high
Hanging on with one hand
People down below looking to the sky
I hear sirens in the distance
But they won't get here before I fall and land

Tears stream down my face
As my fingers slip
How did I get here
So close to tumbling into space?
No one can help me
Is there anybody out there?
I need a hero today

Monday, March 14, 2011

Necklace (a poem)

written March 14th, 2011

There is a necklace
Resting on my collarbone
You may think nothing of it
This little chip of seaglass
Dangling on a silver chain
But if you look closer
Every time I pass
You'll see my choice in jewelry remains the same

There are no diamonds
No sparkling gem
Lighting up this simple pendant
So why then
Is it so special
It's the meaning on which its worth is dependant
Inside that little shard of smooth glass
Is that soul, the essence, of something beautiful

A miracle

Sunday, March 13, 2011

In the Moment (a short story)

In the Moment

They had predicted good weather this week. They had said it would be so warm out we would forget it was fall.
I don’t think I had ever heard a bigger lie in my entire life.
The three of us trudged through the sleepy neighborhood, our heads down against the driving wind. Small snowflakes gusted into our faces, gathering on our eyelashes and stinging our skin with icy coldness.
My hands were stuffed under my armpits, but it did little to keep them warm. I didn’t have gloves. Valerie and Erica did though. I’d never been more jealous.
“Just one more house,” Valerie said, her teeth clacking as she looked down at her clipboard.
I looked up ahead, my eyes falling on the house looming at the end of the street.
It was small, but quaint, more like a cottage than a house, and puffs of smoke were rising from the chimney. Oh, the things I would do to be huddled by that fire…
The house was painted a forest green, with natural-looking wooden and doors and shutters. Vines covered almost one entire side of the house, reaching all the way up the chimney. A pretty hedge bordered the property, lightly dusted with snow. Leaves fluttered across the yard in the wind.
As we approached the driveway, I heard Erica say; “I hear she’s a witch.” Valerie’s eyes widened.
“Who?” I called over the wind.
Erica simply nodded to the door we were nearing. It was adorned with a wrought-iron dragon knocker.
The three of us gathered on the doorstep, huddling for warmth.
“Do you think it’s true?” I asked, a chill running up my spine, and not from the cold.
“Just look at the place,” Erica said, gesturing. Valerie nodded in agreement.
“Maybe we should just go back. We can say she wasn’t home,” Valerie offered. I shook my head without hesitating.
“We should at least try. She is a child of God, just like you or I. She deserves a chance.” Valerie and Erica glanced at their feet. Taking a deep breath, I raised the knocker and clapped it against the door three times.
There was a pause, then, over the racket of the gale, I heard a bustle from within. The door creaked, then swung inward.
The woman that stood before us was not what I had been expecting.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Forever War (informational message)

To my lovely readers:
My novel in progress, the Forever War, is being posted on my booksie website. I currently have the first ten chapters up, and I will be adding more gradually. If you like what you see here on this blog, please stop by and give it a read :) I'm not sure if non-booksie members are allowed to comment, so if you'd like to leave me a message or rating in regards to the Forever War, please leave a comment/rating on this blog post.
There's a link for my Booksie site in the sidebar, but just in case here it is: www.booksie.com/Ousma
The Forever War follows the adventures of Princess Azaa and Prince Sacien in the land of Terrla, comprised of three Kingdoms, two of which have been at war for as long as anyone can remember. Jump into a world of fantasy, magic, Dragons, Griffins, lies, secrets, action, war, and romance and get ready for a wild ride! ;)
I'd like to thank everyone so much for stopping by my blog. I've been getting more attention than I've ever dreamed of, and my passion for writing only grows by the day. I hope my work has been enjoyable for all of you. Thank you again, keep reading, and for all you writers out there, KEEP WRITING! Oh... and Mason, keep jammin! <3
Much love,
Ousma (Faith)

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Just A Little Too Close (a poem, intended lyrics, dedication)

Just A Little Too Close
Oh sweet child
With you gentle smile
I know you mean well
But my heart is the land
Of another man

I saw a lost and lonely soul
That needed someone to know
I gave you my hand
And as I pulled you up
You slipped and managed to land
Just a little too close

Who I Am (a poem)

Who I am
Written March 10th, 2011
You see me
Coming down the hall
In my black clothes
My big combat boots
My music too loud
All by myself

You think to yourself
She must be depressed
She must be lonely
An outcast
What an awful way to live
Drifting through this cold world

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

(Raise Your Voice) The Pentacle and Cross (a poem)

Added to 'Raise Your Voice' collection May 25th, 2011
The Pentacle and Cross
Written March 9th, 2011
I wear a pentacle
On my breast
Dangling from a thin silver chain
You bear a cross
Upon your chest
So very different,
Yet so very much the same
In their causes
For peace,
                                            and hope

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

My Addiction (a poem)

My Addiction
Written March 8th, 2011
My pen is the portal
A wormhole from my mind
To this page
It helps me find
A way to express
My imagination's stage

My pen fits in my hand
Like it was made to be there
Creation suits my fingers best
Converting everything I think
To solid tangible ink
My heart spilled on paper

I do not know if it's genetics
Ink hereditarily pulsing in my veins
Or some random aesthetics
Graced to me by an unknown power
All I know is I can't stop
My thoughts from blooming on this page like a flower
                                                               Writing is my addiction

Sunday, March 6, 2011

My Knight in Shining Armor has Purple Hair (a poem)

My Knight in Shining Armor has Purple Hair
Written March 6th, 2011

My knight in shining armor
Walks by me
With a strength in his step
He smiles at me
Charming me
With his come-and-get-me stare

He is dressed in black
Fit to kill
With the insignia of Slipknot
Barred on his chest
Chuck Taylors armor his feet
His secret heart full of flare

He may be quiet
He may be under known
But I can tell
He is humble and brave
My knight in shining armor-
He has purple hair

*The List (a short story)

The List
Charlotte ate green peppers all day long.
She had been sitting at her little circular kitchen table, in her old chair (the only one accompanying the table), surrounded by piles of her bills, sipping coffee from her mug. But no, she wasn’t tending to her bills with one of her pencils or pens, she was bent over her piece of paper, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. It had only two words on the top line, both spread far apart to represent two different categories. Two simple words, yet they represented something so incredibly big and important.
Boy                                        Girl
Charlotte had been sitting there for a half hour, names dancing by in front of her eyes, a parade of letters. But none had seemed right, so her pen remained poised in the air, waiting for its moment to shine. But it never came in contact with the college ruled sheet of white adorned with blue and pink lines.
She groaned. Blue and pink. Boy and girl.
Throwing down her pen, she paced in the kitchen, distracting herself by reciting in her head; My fridge, my counter, my sink, my dirty dishes, my curtains, my stove, my cooking spices, my overflowing trash, my coffee spoon. Not Mom’s stove, Mom’s fridge, Mom’s sink, Mom’s curtains, no, not hers. Mine. Not Dad’s coffee spoon, Dad’s dirty dishes, Dad’s overflowing trash, Dad’s cooking spices, no, not his. Mine. It was all Charlotte’s. It was strange, scary, and exciting all at once.

Dream Reality (a poem)

Dream Reality
written February 2011
I shiver
As you brush my hair back
Warm fingertips
Skim across my cheek
You're looking at me
In a way I can't describe
I know you're nervous
But you're sure
So am I

I hold my breath
As you come closer
Put your arms
Around my waist
Pull me in
Pressed to your chest
I peer up at you
My heart pounding
Your hair falls over our faces

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Ice Cold (a short story)

Ice Cold

            I remember that day being especially cold.
            It had been nice all week; we were having luck with the fall weather. So that morning I didn’t put on a coat, just a hoodie. As soon as I walked out of the house to wait for the bus, I knew it’d been a mistake. But I couldn’t turn back for fear of missing my ride. Mom would be madder than hell if I woke her up because I missed the bus. So I gritted my teeth and walked down the driveway.
            It was the type of cold that seeped right down into your bones and made them ache real bad. It was the type of cold that left your insides freezing long after your skin had warmed up again.
            The bus didn’t come right away, so I paced back and forth, like they say you’re supposed to in order to keep warm. AS my shoes crunched back and forth over the frost bitten pavement and I was shivering violently, I couldn’t help but think what a load of bullshit that was.
            I had never been happier when the long yellow vehicle finally came to halt in front of me, the sweet relief of the heater melting away my goose bumps.
            At the time I had just taken it as an indication that the winter season was staring to take over, and feeling angry about it. I could hardly stand the thought of pushing through another long New York winter, my sweet summer so far away.
            Looking back though, and knowing what I do now, the biting cold was almost like an omen.

The Soldier's Sleeping Beauty (a poem)

The Soldier's Sleeping Beauty
There was once a girl,
There was once a lad
She was his whole world
She loved him with everything she had

She counted every kiss
That he planted on her sweet lips
And when he was gone
Oh how she would miss
His careful touch
On her skin that she loved so much
The way he'd brush back her hair
And how into her eyes he'd stare

Saying farewell was the worst for him
When the bus came to take him away again
The flood of tears in her eyes
As he held her tight and whispered goodbye
He'd kiss her so deep
And cling to the memory as he lay up late in his bunk
Holding her picture as he quietly weeped

Stained Soul (a poem)

Stained Soul
Airport security stealing me away from you
Embrace me, arms warm circles of flame
Tell me you love me
Respond; but the words are ashes in my throat
Is it not too soon for love?
When I say I love you too
Why do I feel the guilt
Of a little white lie?
All the same it's hard to turn away from you
I will love you someday soon
Just not today

Shards of Glass (a poem)

Shards of Glass
Little tiny fragments
Catching shards of light
Throwing them on the walls
Dancing on your skin
Blue, green, orange, and yellow
Entrancing infant rainbows

Medicinal Shower (a poem)

Medicinal Shower
Written February 2011
I turn the knob
Adding more heat
Letting the water burn my skin
Stinging needles falling on me
As I hold myself
Feeling little waterfalls
Cascade from the cliff
Of my soft lips
That are no longer yours
To kiss

The Box In the Corner (a poem)

The Box in the Corner
written February 2011
All these memories
Echoing through my brain
Of when you smiled
Of when I was the only one
In the world
Now I can't help but ask
Were they real?

I am the one
You gave everything to
But when it came down to it
It wasn't enough to help you through
Your darkest days
You pushed me away
When you should have held me closer

Thursday, March 3, 2011

A Meeting with the Goddess (a poem)

A Meeting with the Goddess
Written March 3rd, 2011
In the dead of the night
While my family sleeps
I am awake and restless
So from the house I creep
Outside beneath the summer moon
I do not care if the neighbors see
The crazy girl barefoot in the yard
Only hours before dawn, pulling herself into a tree

New Notebook (a poem)

New Notebook
Written March 3rd, 2011
I hold in my hands
The prettiest notebook
I ever did see
My mind racing with plans
Of things to write that will be worthy

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

School Night (a poem)

School Night
Written March 1st, 2011

I have found the perfect spot
That melts me into the mattress
I am perfectly comfortable
I start to drift to sleep

Then, as I am on the edge
The brink
of dreams
A new thought enters
Something I have not yet considered

I am wide awake again
This new thought
My new focus
Distracting me
From the rest I sought

Crutch (a poem)


You were falling
I loved you
So I let you use me
As your crutch

Your weight
Leaned down on me
Straining me, heavy
Cracking me, heavier

I gritted my teeth
And took it
Until I couldn't take it

Winter Rant (thoughts, rant)

Winter Rant

I hate winter.
Winter forces you to be confined inside until that rare occasion occurs when you're feeling spirited enough to brave the cold, bundle up, and roll around in the snow for a few hours until you can't feel your toes.
For me, that rare occasion only occurs once or twice every winter.
Every other day besides those two, the awful cold foreces me to become the couch's prisoner and to nearly suffocate from the boredom of being trapped inside the house (a glorified box) for any long period of time.

Something Is Missing (a poem)

Something Is Missing

Something is missing
A subtle difference in my psyche
I am colder
The days go by too quickly
For me to proccess
Yet too slowly
For me to enjoy
Something is missing
A hole in my heart and soul
I wait for it to be filled
As I am accustomed
But it remains desolate and empty
Widening each passing day
Something is missing
                                        It's you