"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

Saturday, December 1, 2012

First Snow (a poem)

First Snow
Written December 1st, 2012
Morning light blinding bright
Through a frost crackled window
Split the shades; could it be?
Tufts of grass sprinkled across a white sea
Trees gently frosted like cakes
Sugar snow layered over frozen arms
Icy fingers reaching for a dappled cloudy sky

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

A Little Secret (a poem)

A Little Secret
Written November 20th, 2012

To tell the truth,
I think about you
When I’m curled up in bed
And raindrops dance over my head
A vulnerable time to think about hopes and fears;
Playful rainfall can easily become tears.
I shouldn't dream of you in this way
But I have a hunch our destinies are intertwined;
It’s the way you always find
A smile in your pocket to give me
On days I’m so turned around I can’t see
When I have massive mountains to ascend
You give me freedom to fly with the love you lend.
Lately I wonder about you all the time
To be honest, I think you have a hunch too

Monday, September 10, 2012

Adrift (a poem)

Written September 9th, 2012

My dreams shift
Mirages on a desert horizon
My heart adrift
Try to understand
The elusive wolves in the woods
Flickering between trees
Just flashes
Of eyes and teeth

Some nights
I plunge and shatter
Broken chips of bones across the rocks
Lakes of blood, yet;
Impossibly alive
When the rain falls
And rocks me to sleep
I’m stitched back together
A little voodoo doll
I walk among lands
With silver nights
Starry lakes
And mystics with soul-eyes
Landscapes too beautiful to paint

Predetermined Place (a poem)

Predetermined Place
Written June 12th, 2012
Today I bring a picnic basket
And a heavy heart
To the top of a hill
In a quiet corner with a charming view
Beneath a friendly maple tree.
As I sit in my predetermined place
I quietly thank the maple
For the kindness is has given selflessly
To my husband and I
Sprawling branches shield me from the hot sky
And in the winter
It holds back some of the snow and ice
Protecting his stone from damage
And mine as well.

My Coins (a poem)

My Coins
Written May 5th, 2012

The little wooden box
Has lost the shine on its finish
And appears dim and tires
Like its special contents
But I think the ancient look
Makes it interesting-
Alerts the viewer to a hidden
Mysterious treasure.
A dragon flies across the lid
Suspended in the wood
His maw open in a roar
Warning the evil doers
That he protects the contents

Selective Ignorance (a poem)

Selective Ignorance
Written April 19th, 2012

Threads tear, bare from use
Sad puppy cries, dejected
Punished for trying

But that is just fine
You’re incapable of wrong
Stark blind, full of whine.

No safe place for hearts
Angry shadows and bad air
Smells: rancid decay

But that is just fine
You’re incapable of wrong
Jealous, past your prime.

Watch a joyful soul
Crumble and suffocate here
A plant in darkness

But that is just fine
You’re incapable of wrong
All talk, with no spine.

Dreams crushed under foot
You could help, put action forth
Instead we suffer

But that is just fine
You’re incapable of wrong
Ignore passing time.

Principals Are People Too! (a poem)

Principals Are People Too!
Written April 21st, 2012
Such a dark, scary man
That lays in wait
In a shadowy room of doom
At the end of the hall
Since we were just wee children
We feared the call:
“Principal’s office!”

Surely in our heads
As we walked that walk
Of impending reprimand and shame
We pictured a tall spidery man
With beady accusing eyes
Behind authoritative spectacles
That magnify his angry glare
Crouched in his torture chamber
Waiting for us there.

Imagine our surprise!
To see a normal man
With a smile and friendly eyes!
Bustling about a bright,
Charmingly messy office
Much like any other
And he wants not to expel you
From his school on some accusation
But rather congratulate you
For some prideful consummation.

As you leave his office
With a smile on your face
You wonder how your friends will react
Upon learning he’s not from outer space!
The principal is a person too!

Say hi to him in the hall
And listen to his responding call
If you take the time as you walk
To greet him and have a talk
You might be surprised to find
He too has interests and opinions in mind
Instead of boarding a mothership from above
At the day’s end he returns to a family full of love

I’m sorry to change your world
With this ground-breaking news,
I know it’s strange, even revolutionary,
But it’s true:

Principals are people too!

Monday, April 16, 2012

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

Friday, April 13, 2012

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

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Whispers (a short story)

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.

Friday, March 2, 2012

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.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

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

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

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

Friday, February 24, 2012

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)

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

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Imperfect Love (a poem)

Imperfect Love
Written February 8th, 2011
He is not an iron addict
With arms stacked to the hilt
Thinned out like a pancake
He has been lightly built

His eyes do not burn
With the passion of a dying sun
Rather, grayed with a touch of sapphire
And a faint spark of mischief and fun

Not colored with alluring, sensual caramel
The sought after, sun kissed tone
Instead he is sprinkled with playful freckles
Atop of the color of clean, bright bone

Saturday, February 4, 2012

(Raise Your Voice) Things I Never Had (a poem, dedication)

Raise Your Voice
Things I Never Had
Written  February 4th, 2012
I dream of things I never had
On this freezing lonely night
As I cling to this life so fleeting and sad
Without these dreams I’d have no will to fight
And I’d be stiff and cold by morning light

I dream of fields, sprawling and green
Soft plumes of grass beneath weary, cracked foot pads
Forests and skies that stretch to eternities unseen
A family full of love, always glad
Each night a big warm meal to be had

I’ll make it through each long, painful day
On a stomach with no food and a heart with no love
On shaky legs and a mind that’s begun to decay
I’ll survive till dusk touches the grey sky above
So I can sleep and briefly enjoy the things I’ve been dreaming of

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

(Raise Your Voice) The Human and the Tree (a poem)

Raise Your Voice
The Human and the Tree
Written February 1st, 2012
I walk upon this ground
I rise up from it
I am small in these woodlands
I am the tallest being around
I cannot move you, mighty beast
Yes, for I am rooted to this ground
But I can make you fall,
For I start the chainsaw
And I feel its merciless bite
The chainsaw was made for me
I kill you for material things
I provide you with life-giving air
I create to destroy
I do not like to share
I live a peaceful life
My purpose is to provide for myself and others
I forget
I remember

That I am not the only one on this earth.

A style of poem I explored in creative writing club

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

In the Woodwork (a poem)

In the Woodwork
January 30th, 2012
When I go off on my own
And we are separated for a time
As I toss and turn at night, longing for home
I’ll remember the sound of your boots
Thumping on the porch upon your arrival
I’ll remember running to the door on little feet

When I heard your cough at midnight
I knew you still lay awake, restless
But when I heard your snore
From across the house, on a different floor
Rumbling in the woodwork
I knew I could sleep easy;
You never drifted into dreams
Unless all was at peace, all was secure

Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Five Senses (a poem, thoughts)

The Five Senses
Written January 29th, 2012
If I lost my sense of sight, I could never see the faces of the ones I love,
I could never see the wonders of the world.
If I lost my sense of touch, I could never feel the kiss of my true love,
Or the touch of my child’s hand to my cheek.
If I lost my sense of taste, I could never enjoy my father’s cooking,
Or open my mouth when hiking to sample the pine and soil in the air.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Faerie Dreams (a short story)

Faerie Dreams
Written in Winter of 2011
A small boy, no older than the age of five, came to find himself in a large, fantastic house of stunning, brilliant colors. It was as though the house had been specifically designed for Easter celebrations. The walls were adorned with luscious pastel shades and intricate winding patterns, delightfully filling his senses. There were wonderful smells of fresh baked cookies and pies, and the taste of sugary, candied things was in the air.
            Faeries danced and flew about the room, singing and laughing and playing, their voices like summer birds and sweet Sunday bells. They welcomed him with smiles and pinched his round boyish cheeks. One faerie in particular, an impish, mischievous girl with bright orange hair, took his hand and twirled him around. The air shimmered around them as they spun, as though they were a sparkling mirage. With a cry of delight, the boy found he could fly.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

This Moment (a poem)

This Moment
Written January 13th, 2012
I’m taking this moment
A feather drifting on a breeze
I’m taking it, and I’ll keep it
Tuck it away somewhere secret
A hidden safe place
I’m memorizing these seconds
And stowing them away
So I have them just in case
I find myself lonely on a cold, rainy day

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Wishing for Sleep (a poem)

Wishing for Sleep
Written January 5th, 2012
How I wish I could sleep at night
But my waking dreams keep my eyes wide
And the stars shine so bright
Tires hiss on wet pavement
Passing like tumbling leaves, a phantom sigh
The music spins and twirls with the shadows
Singing with the lonely midnight train that calls goodbye

How I wish I could sleep at night
So worn out from a crowded day
That made my mind so dusty and numb
And changed my feet to sore old men
Yet energy still flows in my veins with a soft hum
I see snippets of the future on paths unchosen
Scattered across starry skies and stormy oceans

How I wish I could sleep at night
But my head is bursting with you
My ears full of a voice of warm velvet
A smile so wide and eyes so blue
I remember the heat of your touch today
And dream of the flames of tomorrow
A familiar wandering spirit fills my heart again

Wicked Lovely Circles (a poem)

Wicked Lovely Circles
Written December 31st, 2011
Here we are spinning
Spinning in circles, just a blur
Spin until we’re too dizzy
And fall away from one another
This nightmare merry-go-round
Stops for no one

Fate snickers at us
While we point gingers
At every person in the room
Except ourselves
This house no longer shelters
Infested with angry shadows and black holes