Balloon.

Balloon, balloon, balloon
blue ones,
red ones,
green ones,
pink ones.
all my problems
high above my head
in multi
vibrant
color.

Crying at Stars.

staring at the faded velvet sky,
I wondered why you cried.
what you saw,
that I couldn't see
is your heart a precious flower?
you wilt
at the first sign of beauty and sorrow.
am I stone,
that my breath is not stolen away
by the very same?

- - -

Written for my brother, who cries at everything.

Sun Kissed - Prose.

The heat of the sun kissed my back, wrapped me in the warm hazy light of an april afternoon. For once, I felt tranquil. No worries bounding through my brain, nothing to pull my attention from this peacful moment. Even the black ink of my pen seemed lovely: graceful scrawl on white paper.

I remember watching my brother playing on the lawn with the dogs, my sister basking in the sunlight as I. I remember thinking as I looked over the expanse of garden, an overgrown jungle in the midst of our urban habitat, that this was the most perfect moment of my life. The only sound cutting through the light and cool chatter of the wind was the occasional tinkle of a far off wind chime.

It was a refreshing outlook on a chaotic week, month, year.

Thinking of that, I was suddenly flooded with dangerous thoughts. I thought of Sam, I thought of Charlie. I thought of booze, and sex, and drugs. Just these alone were enough to make me want to crush my head between a rock and a hard place.

I was a stupid, stupid girl.

- - -

Might elaborate more on this. We shall see, young padawans(I think that's how you spell it). I really enjoyed writing it, as I was basking in the sun, and my brother and sister were there with me. And yes, it was a very tranquil moment in a hectic week. I think it should be interesting to flesh this out a bit more and see where it goes. May have to do some research first, since I know practically nothing about booze or drugs. Boys, on the other hand... :)

The Sun Comparison .

Warm sun,
wrap me
in your yellow hugs
and kisses.
I love you,
only when
you don't bake me
under your heated stare.

- - -

I love the sun. That was the first inspiration behind this peice. I guess if you're one for metaphor and symbolism, then it has a far deeper meaning.

From Mars.

falling from a shooting star,
where are you from,
that you should be
so like myself?

the spark of lighting
hiding in your eyes
and in the sky...
I guess I'm paraphrasing.

where are you from,
that your fingers are like fire,
but ice fills my bones
at your touch.

I've lost my reason
to deny myself
the feeling that you bring.

we are the same,
are we the same?

- - -

I wrote this while listening to the song From Mars, by Gojira. Though the poem and the song have absolutely nothing in common. LEGIT.

Silver.

clouds have silver lining,
blashempy;
nothing is as it seems.

As much as I want to,
I won't follow the silver cord
because I know where it goes:
it only shows me the way
through drenched-in-tears mazes,
back to you.

Why would I want
what I cried
for
about
with?

Silver lining, silver cord,
blashempy;
I'll only follow
blue eyes.

- - -

Written in social, when I was supposed to be working on a bunch of questions pertaining to the unit we're on (imperialism in africa. . . I think?).

Avoiding The Question.

and I asked him
"do you love me?"
like shattering glass
his silken voice
drunk off sweet body carress
he said
"you're so beautiful."
stretched to run a hand
zigzagging down my exposed figure.

i cried.

- - -

This is more a memory and a fear than poetry. I know, it's a memory disguised as poetry!

I trying some new things, because Charles Bukowski is very inspiring.

"Don't Try" - Charles Bukowski.

http://www.poemhunter.com/charles-bukowski/biography/

WOW. That is all I have to say. I just sat down and read stuff about him and stuff by him for probably a good three hours and I'm astounded. I think I'll raid Chapters for some of his poetry collections on Thursday.

Blotch Life.

Staring at the ink blotch
on the page.
Wonder how it got there,
wonder how I ended up
so like it.
Stuck to the paper,
with so much to say,

but nowhere to go.

- - -

I was looking through my poetry file (yes, I actually do have a folder that I keep all my rough drafts in, no wonder we have no trees :/) and I sort of just happened on this peice. I have no idea when it was written, how I was feeling when I wrote it, or even where I happened upon the inspiration for it. Hmm. I'll have to jog my memory.

Looking at it now, I can see that it still has a lot of relevance to my life. I feel like I have nowhere to go. I feel like I'm stuck all the time. It's so hard to change, and so hard to do the things that I need to do. I just leave all of these unfinished strings of...everything everywhere.

I have no drive. :(

Wow, Talk About Enlightenment.

http://selectiveanalysis.blogspot.com

The blog linked above is called 'Analyse This'. It's fantastic, I've never met a person so enlightened and so willing to accept the flaws and beauty that life brings. It's so positive, and there's such great writing hidden in each post.

The only thing that drives me crazy about it is the huge blocks of text. I like managable paragraphs, but then again, I'm slightly OCD.

Anyways, check it out, SA is a great writer, and this is a really good read.

EDIT: Okay, for some reason, the hyperlink is being a bitch. Just copy/past into your address bar, should get you where you need to go. :)

SaltPepper.

Salt and pepper shakers
upon the table.
Polar opposites,
but stuck together
as paper and glue.
Just like
you and I.

- - -

As I was writing this, I really wanted to go into detail, WAY more detail. I wanted to write to the end of the page, and then keep writing. I decided in the end it sounded good just like this, and as is almost always the case with good things: less is more and more just sucks some real cock. I hope my dad never reads that, cause he'll kill me. :)

I was really frustrated as well, because I couldn't decide on a good comparison, and I'm still not sure. The two lines "but stuck together, as paper and glue" had many variations before I hesitantly settled on those ones, some of which were:

"But two peices,
of the same puzzle."

and

"Perceived together,
like body and mind."

and

"But two slices,
of the same loaf."

Those were some of the better ones. Tell me what you think. Do you like the poem the way it is, or should I have use one of the previously mentioned lines? Maybe you can think of a better one?

Lips - A Haiku

Chapstick glazed on lips,
red and blooming like roses,
eager to kiss you.

- - -

Yay, another Haiku! I'm really liking this whole structure thing. Like I've said before, it's nice to say a lot with a little.

I'd love to let the poem speak for itself, but I'm going to give my thoughts on it anyways.:P

This is what happens when you don't see your boyfriend more than two days in a row. Is that bad of me? I like him so much it's painful to be apart? Maybe that's a bit of an exageration, it's not painful. But it sure as hell isn't grandly fun either. Maybe I just hate being without other people? Guess that makes me sort of needy. Wow, am I ever good at finding flaws or what? Anyways, enjoi for now, cause there's more coming!