Thoughtexplosion

BOOM! goes the dynamite inside my head
bigger than anything I'll ever dread
all the thoughtbuildings destroyed and thoughtanimals dead
thoughtrecovery teams handing out bread
to the thoughtvictims that so badly bled
protecting my thought treasures and memories instead
of taking shelter where explosive thoughts did not tread
good thing my most precious memories were encompassed in thoughtlead
because everything else has been destroyed just by having been said.

Storm

I here you coming, see the sun flee,
and it's dark when it's not supposed to be
I feel disappointment, lethargy,
and anxiousness for what soon will be

Now it's falling, pouring down,
little, sharp, stabbing the ground
Now, after silence, the air fills with sound,
while puddles form on the ground

I'm waiting so impatiently,
taking it out on those closest to me
I'm watching the storm enviously
its rage produces life, unlike me.

Love & Acceptance Go Hand In Hand

To a special someone who has found a special someone: Don't give up. Don't let them wear you down. You're not alone.

So beautiful, blue- and green-eyed
baseball cap and curls walking side by side,
fighting, fingers intertwined, holding hands
proudly wearing invisible rainbow bands
they use their love to fight this war,
ironic, it's also what they're fighting for.
One brushes a lock out of the other's face,
how are they different from the rest of our race?
make-up on all four eyelids,
why does this mean they shouldn't have kids?
judgement is a risk they take
for a better future's sake.
I don't want their strength to wear down
before they can both go shopping for wedding gowns
but they are still so criticized,
and I thought more people had realized
that hate is useless, love is the key
for any kind of family.

Wide-Ruled Paper

I feel so little writing on
wide-ruled paper,
because it makes me forget how
old I've gotten,
like I'm just learning how to scrawl between
over-sized lines,
funny, they're starting to look smaller.

Now I'm going back to using
colorful crayons,
or maybe my hands are covered in
finger paint,
regardless, I'm not using a
No. 2 Pencil,
or if I am you can be sure I'm unaware of it.

You know, time travel doesn't always require
a time machine,
I'm not going faster than
the speed of light,
I can just sit in a chair and scribble
on wide-ruled paper,
or color with markers outside the lines.

I wouldn't go back in time to
change anything,
I'm strong enough to live with
my own mistakes,
but changing and reliving the past
are two different things,
and just reliving it makes boring science fiction.

But so what if no one else cares about
my memories,
and so what if my memory might have
tweaked events,
I'm just learning how to scrawl between
over-sized lines,
funny, they're starting to look smaller...

the bus ride II, prologue to 'the amabassador'

still not done with The Ambassador, turns out it's a bit more complicated than I thought. but hey, im getting some free-verse practice in, so there is that upside.

As if he can't possibly contain himself any longer,
a man on the bus shouts,
"My wife had a baby last night! I'm a father!"
 The bus stops and an older man gives the new father
a congratulating pat on the back on his way out.
Calls of 'Congratulations!' and 'Boy or girl?'
emit from throughout the bus crowd.
 "A boy, a little boy. Full head of hair,
most powerful blue eyes you ever saw."
Every word is soaked with pride.
"aww," and "oh how cute" echo throughout the bus,
mainly from the women,
but when they die down it's silent again.
except for the engine of the bus,
the metallic sigh of the doors opening and shutting.
The new father fidgets for a few minutes more,
his mood finally settling with the rest of the passengers,
and I wonder,
was that really all the reaction he would get?

the bus ride I, prologue to 'the ambassador'

The Ambassador will be on that new page u see at the top there in a bit. im still working on it. it's an experiment with blogger's new gadget, mainly. since im working on a story thingy-ma-jig, i thought i'd try it out.


Hesitant, inquiring,
you sit down next to me,
cross your legs self-consciously,
pulling at your skirt.
I can tell you're different
because most girls around here wouldn't bother
being self-conscious with those kinds of legs.
They'd wear a shorter skirt than yours,
and be more than comfortable.
I know you're different
not only because I know everyone else on the route,
but also because you're so obviously
so uncomfortably
out of place.

Stories

If I were a zombie,
and I ate brains like cake,
I would no doubt eat your brain
because your knowledge would fill me up.

it would fill me up for years
and you would save the whole world.
With your brains in my stomach,
everyone else's would be safe.

If you were a King,
I guess I wouldn't be surprised.
Or maybe a Prime Minister or a President
because you're not bossy like a King is.

In fact I know I'd vote for you,
because I know you understand me,
and that's what people look for in politicians.
That and whether or not they're a good orator.

If dragons came between us,
and we each had a sword,
we'd charge right through them all
and we'd meet in the middle of all the gore

Yea, I think it's romantic,
if, I admit, a bit strange,
but when fighting dragons and zombie attacks
the problem is you don't have time for much else.

If all the stories were real,
all the books, movies, and plays,
everything would be different,
except the way I feel about you.

But I wouldn't notice one thing out of place,
not the zombies, kings, or dragons.
As long as you were in my story,
nothing else would really matter.

What's Real?

Have to do a project on the poet William Carlos Williams [funny name, huh?] and thought I'd try and write something in his style. Key word: 'try'.

alone, wide awake
there's a monster!
under the bed!

wait, it's just a toy,
casting a shad-
ow on the wall

but the fear was real
and the blankets
thin though they are,

offer safety like
that of maybe
fifty soldiers

Not Yet, Please

my feet are shivering
they remind me that I don't want to leave here
without you

my vision's fading
there's nothing else I can see with these old eyes
besides you

my voice is shaking
'good-bye' are not the words I really want to
say to you

my life is ending
but there are still so many things I want to
do with you

Eg. 'stairway to heaven'

i climb each stair
one by one
i am not scared
i will not run

this stairway it
never ends
the passage lit,
it never bends

and at the top
i will see
life does not stop
life still will be

i can't go back
can't go down
i run this track
to which i'm bound

i do not stop
i don't rest
must reach the top
to stop is death

each step i take
some strength goes
till my legs break
and my breath slows

until that end
i will climb
we all die, friend
but there's still time

Genocide

Off in the distance
an alarming sight was seen
curious, strange,
what could it mean?

a People, nervous,
think this can't be good
they would have surrendered
if they believed they could

the invaders invaded
no one was spared
when they begged for mercy
none of them cared

a People despairing
but some still have hope
some try to resist
it's just how they cope

one by one
the brave will fall
enduring, fighting
warriors all

a People dying
ceasing to exist
while to their destroyers,
they're just a check on the list

Broken Alive by the Common Beast

I try to fight but I am weak
I try to yell but I can't speak
it's a safe-house that I seek
when it's hunger is at it's peak

From the pits of Hell it comes
'I want you Broken' I hear it hums
It's chest lacks the beating sound of drums
While my heart too, it nearly numbs

And my fingers start to shake
if only more time I could make
I beg 'Don't destroy me for God's sake!'
but it's my soul it wants to take

it's victims broken, they confide,
they are immobile, they didn't hide
and they're still hanging on for the ride
I could not save them, though I tried

No where on Earth is there a place
where I would never see it's face
it can now too easily keep pace
I think I'm through running this race

And after all my pain and strife
it comes and stabs me with a knife
I cannot go back to my life
Yet the regrets I have they are not rife

This rabid Beast that I speak of
it's disguise is like a dove
but don't believe it's from above
this savage monster we call Love

The Pearl Thief

How I want to speak loud, to be honest and proud
but my voice has less substance than that of a cloud
Believe me I'd tell you, if I only had your ear
I'd end the curse that befell you, if only you could hear

My pleads, my cries, whatever I do,
are all lost in the winds, they never reach you
Your will is strong, my words are weak
I'm mute when I try and say "I know what you seek"

You glide and swirl, all over the world
looking for your most sacred pearl
Listen to me: end your unavailing quest
I know where your pearl is, I admit it's I that knows best

I want to repent, after all the time you've spent
searching for your pearl, such harm I never meant.
A man's most valuable treasure, that's the pearl that I claim
it's your heart that you measure, though Pearl Thief is my name

Lost and empty, you're a cloud roaming the world
still searching for your most precious pearl
Always you look, if only you knew
it was I that took your pearly heart from you

The Skeletons in My Closet Are Braver Than Me

if my closet could speak
oh the things it would say
all my secrets revealed,
all my misdeeds explained

would my closet be granted
a mouth to make human sounds
the words could condemn,
my sentence would be profound

if my closet had audience
it's door opened to all
my failures, an exhibit,
skeletons hang from its walls

if it gained judges' ears
the verdict would not be delayed
if skeletons' jargon were made clear,
my fate would seal, I'm afraid.

if my skeletons escaped
havoc would toy with my mind
my sub-conscious raped,
never peace would I find

but my closet is shut
hid where no one can find
and I just don't have the gut
to let you trespass in my mind

ironic, isn't it, that i'm part of the school newspaper.

erin, good job cuz, you inspired me.

i hate the news.
murder, suicide, rape, theft.
it's always bad news that makes the front page, it makes me wonder:
what good in the world is left?

on TV it's the worst.
they try and reel you in with fear.
they swear they are unbiased, but it makes me wonder:
what is it we don't hear?

news lacks emotion
the obituary writers sound dead.
monotonous, even happy voices report grim facts,
it makes me wonder:
to where has our humanity fled?

Life-Death-Life

as you're opening your eyes

you think you're already dead
it comes as a surprise
you simply went to bed

you think you're already dead

your memories have mislead you

you simply went to bed

the dream just seemed so true

your memories have mislead you

you swear you remember death

the dream just seemed so true

yet here you are with breath

you swear you remember death

your memories never lied

yet here you are with breath
even after you died

your memories never lied
the bridge you crossed was real
even after you died
something has caused you to feel

the bridge you crossed was real
the light began to dim
something has caused you to feel
you look up and see Him

the light began to dim
as you're opening your eyes
you look up and see Him
it comes as a surprise

Contradiction and Hipocracy Make My World Go Round, Now How Do I Stop It From Turning?

I wish the world would end during my lifetime
just so we would know what went wrong
just so I would get to see it.
I wish snow wasn't so cold,
I wish every time it rained, it poured.

I wish we were all re-born tomorrow without a memory of any previous life
just to see what we would still know
just to see who we would still be.
I wish I knew the meaning of everything,
I wish everything had meaning.

I wish music composed itself sometimes
just so anything with ears could listen.
just so I wouldn't feel so envious
I wish denim were indestructible.
I wish all material goods lasted forever.

I wish technology wasn't worth the damage it did
just so people stopped using it all together
just so I wouldn't feel like an idiot typing on a keyboard.
I wish we got dairy without exploiting cows.
I wish everyone gave as much as they took.

I wish everyone craved knowledge like they craved foods
just so starving yourself would be that much harder
just so I could eat as much lasagna as I wanted.
I wish metabolism wasn't a word.
I wish there were no such things as disorders.

I wish challenges were everyday things
just so strength was measured more accurately
just so age was even more respected.
I wish immortality was rare.
I wish I could believe in an afterlife.

I wish organization was easy as pie
just to make government unnecessary
just to make my room a safer place to walk through.
I wish I could levitate.
I wish I had telepathy.

I wish I could read everyone's minds
just to know who people really are
just to know what people really believe in.
I wish religions didn't demand as much.
I wish humanity demanded more.

I wish progress was measured in miles
just so highways had more impact
just so I would run a marathon.
I wish vacuums were common natural occurrences.
I wish the easy button was never thought up.

I wish the world could fix itself
just so people could lead better lives
just so I'd have time to kill.
I wish the impossible weren't so frightening.
I wish I thought the world was fine the way it was.

But the world's future isn't looking quite that grim
snow still means frozen water
the rain merely sprinkles from time to time

and I feel I can do nothing to change any of this.
I wish a genie were here to make my wishes come true,
without a single contradiction.

there's nothing new under the sun

Credit for the poem's style goes to Mr. Rad who taught us, and Sophie for taking me to his class.


the world will turn
the sun will rise
the people learn
it's no surprise

the sun will rise
today is here
it's no surprise
the end is near

today is here
the earth is new
the end is near
the start is too

the earth is new
the end is real
the start is too
the people feel

the end is real
the world will turn
the people feel
the people learn

My Zoo

When my world threatens to crack and chaos can emerge
my heart, it takes over, my soul, I feel it urge
that I abandon control, stop listening to my mind
as if this opportunity for peace is the only one I'll find

Order can't help me
neither can you
the paranormal and unhealthy
unlock the cages of my zoo

Judgment has no floor, from my head it has been exiled
though I love to make it mad, radicalism sure drives them wild
escape is not an option because wherever I'd escape to
all new ideas would die and there'd be padlocks in my zoo

Repression can't help you
neither can I
as the zoo animals would tell you,
'Live like you cannot die'

The River and Us

I can hear the river running
though it's barely keeping pace
with the pounding of my heart, so fast.

Why I am here, it's stunning
I just had to see your face
considering how You vanished, not the past.

How come the river never splits?
It starts, it ends, by the rain it's replenished
the river never calls it quits
it flows, it winds, by the ocean it's finished

I can hear the river roaring
though it's just louder than us
We're still screaming at each other, laughing

Why am I here, it's pouring
I think I've had enough
Always through the rapids, we're rafting

How come the river is always calm?
through storm, through drought, through broken dam
the river pushes against my palm
it rushes, it tugs, it shows how weak I am.