Tuesday, September 20, 2011

what was, a cosmic love.



and so it seems
that the crisp autumn nights
are when i’ll miss you the most,
and just when i thought i’d forgotten you
i realize, 
that the seconds i spend thinking of you
likely outnumber
all the stars in the sky,
and even the biggest planet
could never fill
the black hole
you’ve left
in my
chest.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

what it means to be free


You are free the moment you realize
you are enslaved by your own mind.
no one can save you,
but you.

Friday, November 12, 2010

A Winter Walk

 

We walk farther into the forest,
your cold hands touching the bare skin on my wrist.
I didn't ask you to join me but you came along
in that same proud way you always do.

Snow covers the forest floor, hiding all of the life that once
existed in this place. 

I look at you,
again,
and again.

You gaze over at me and admire my pink flesh,
my sad gray eyes, and
the freckles you had never noticed before that day.

We walk farther still,
into the depths of snow and pine,
silence and ice
you whisper to me,
"I want to show you something, let me cover your eyes".

So I let you.
"Just a little farther now..."
Trustingly,  I walk blindly forward.

"Its here." 

Before us is the most curious tree, baring an array of red leaves
and offering only one lone fruit.
Standing side by side for a moment, we watch the harsh winds tear leaves from the tree;
leaving the ground covered in a blanket of crimson. 
You hold my hand.

We pick the fruit from the tangled limbs,
then lay, sleepily, in the snow.

"Its falling harder now" I whisper
as you take the first bite.
red juice spilling from your mouth and onto the 
frosty snow.

you look at me for a moment
and i glance timidly back at you
"it tastes sweet" you say.
I nod my head.

We position ourselves as if we were making snow angels,
hands touching hands, feet touching feet
and
our eyes slowly close,
then our mouths.

I peeked at you, again
just one last time,
though I could barely see you
beneath the snow that began to cover our
small bodies like a winter blanket.

I never loved you so much as I did that day.
And how badly I wish I would have told you.




An owl hovers above us
as we forget to breathe;
falling asleep beneath
the crimson tree.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

waiting




Head against the wall
wishing for some tea or a cigarette
trying to think of anything but you,
miles away, talking cheerfully with friends
as i wander through this solemn place
uncomfortable and unable to speak any word but your name.
I run my fingers through my tangled hair, over my pale face
and I’m certain of only one thing now;
that loving a person is a lot like
hanging yourself.
But just before you jump
you look down at the ground,
back at the door.
You wait to see if someone
will come and rescue you.
But he doesn’t come.
No one comes.
He is settled beneath his sheets
probably dreaming
of a girl with softer skin and greener eyes,
a calmer voice.
But for what its worth,
all I really wanted
was for you to wrap your arms around me
and kiss me on the neck,
offer to make me an egg, some toast,
and maybe some tea.
That would be nice.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Night



So you say you want to sleep?
Well sleep then, and be off!

The radiant brightness of the crescent moon
and the clusters of golden stars which freckle
the  face of the dark sky
will reveal themselves once more,
I'm sure of it.


Do not fret,
she will be back again tomorrow.
For the burning beauty 
of the universe, 
is eternal--

The golden sacred marks
speckled across the pale cheeks
of  God's fiery red haired mistress. 

He was always a sucker for those.







Thursday, April 22, 2010

a letter to you.

I saw your truth
with a child’s eyes
each plate thrown
 a bomb
an explosion
we were only civilians.

But all these years
This remains unquestioned:
How a mother,
If that’s what you would like to call it,
Could allow her children
To watch her
Attempt
To meet death.

The reapers black eyes
Staring back at them
In pill form.

Perhaps you have just had enough.
Please forgive me if this is true
But as the war raged on
In this poor home
You’d forgotten
The casualties
You had taken with you.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Nipomo: for Donna-Lee


I still often sigh
as I think of our long gone, younger days--
where we'd play amongst the eucalyptus leaves
two sisters, untouched and unafraid.

We would jump off the moon--
pink umbrellas in hand
and back on the ground
safely we land.

Buried shoes
and porcelain dolls,
rainforest whispers and
high heels, much too tall.

This season is gone
and summer has lost its charm.
If I could turn back the clocks
I'd go back to the start-
a time where my sister
held my hand and
my heart.
Oh, sweet Nipomo.

simple.

Rainy day-
wasting away.
Seashells on the beach
have never sung so sweet.
Pressed against your ear
passing cars are all you hear.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

The Invitation


As the state lines grow farther
I think of you still--

Like how we walked
Amongst Autumn's dusty gravestones
Not noticing
The soft reminders
Of Winter's inevitable chill.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

where the trees lean: written 12-28-08





It's eerie how you can be a main part of someones life for such a long time, and by being a part I mean like being a part of the group that the said person defines themselves by, to almost being a stranger- an acquaintance.
For me, High School was very easy because I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself. I was a "part" of this weird relationship between my class, we had each other and that was all really. Now, we've all gone our separate ways and met new people. We are no longer this group of one, but a group torn at the seams, split apart and shared with the rest of the world.

Our society pressures change so much, pressures traveling, moving, leaving.
But whats so wrong with staying put?
What is life without a place that I can call "my place."
Where do I turn when I no longer know who "my people" are?

One thing that I've been thinking about lately is energy.
Every person gives off energy, but whats really interesting is when one persons energy interacts with another.
What makes a person more attracted to person A than person B? Sure, looks come into play, obviously- but theres more. Its how their energy relates and responds. Its how they connect.
I believe that when it comes to friendships, love and all other relationships- its all a give and take of energy.

I remember walking through the Deerfield fair one year, keeping to myself, but simply watching. People are so intriguing. I always want to know more.
Anyways, as I was walking through a crowd of people, I look up and lock eyes with this boy. In that moment, our "energies" reacted, we connected, we had a spiritual interaction. It was such a short moment, but its something i'll always remember.

You're probably thinking "he probably just thought you were hot" or something similar. But I'll tell you all something really creepy that you'll probably never believe.
On the drive home from the fair, I stared into outer space from behind the dirty glass window and hoped that I would see that boy again. A little more than a month later, he found me on myspace. (weird, right?)
Turns out, he was a good friend of an ex-boyfriend of mine.
He asked me who I was and brought up that moment we locked eyes.
After a short conversation about who we both were, where we came from, etc. We never spoke again. I can't even remember his name, truthfully.
But thats how life goes, I guess.
One moment makes such a difference, and can alter so much.

Its all about moments, these chunks of time.

I think that this is why I was drawn to photography so much.
I want to capture these fleeting moments so desperately.
Each experience I have, is once in a lifetime.
With my camera, I, in essence, trap a piece of time.
You can travel back in time with a photograph.

I don't really know where I'm going with this- and I've been trying to spit this out for so long.

I'm just ready to move on, I'm ready to be happy, I'm ready for the new year. I'd like to find a place to bury my roots, I'd like to rediscover these lost relationships with friends.

Who am I, really?



written: 1-27-09

I often find myself wishing that my family from the past (my ancestors, basically) would have left behind journals, pictures, letters or anything that I could discover.

I have over five journals dating from seventh grade to the present. I've had a (well, numerous ones)livejournal for the last five years, and have posted at least a thousand entries of me pouring my heart out. One thing that bothers me, however, is the barrier between my thoughts and the computer screen. Writing is natural. There is no space between your mind and the page. With a computer on the other hand, its like there's a filter between the thoughts in your head and what comes out onto the screen. I'm not sure if that even makes any sense. Whatever.

Energy cannot be created or destroyed, right? Well in my belief, neither can words or thoughts. My words are the only things that I truly own, the same goes for you and yours. When we ~think~ of something, our thoughts become energy. This energy joins one big pool of consciousness and minds. Like when scientists make a discovery and soon after many other scientists end up discovering the same thing. The discovery, the thought, created an energy that leaked into the collective consciousness and other people tapped into that.

When we die, do our thoughts die with us? Or do they remain in the "thought pool" for eternity. Say there was no written record of, for example, Plato's thoughts. Would the energy those thoughts gave off in the past still exist in the present or would they have needed to be ~re thought~ by someone else.

I dont really know what I'm saying, this is just a ramble I guess. But all I know is, I do not want my thoughts to lie in the grave with me. So here and now, I pass them onto you. Do with them what you will.

But, really, who am I to believe that my thoughts or my words or anything about me should live on after I die? I don't KNOW anything. All I have are some simple beliefs, thoughts and ideas.

Tis all.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

I've always had a hard time letting go.



There's something insanely beautiful about pure human emotion.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009



...sometimes I wonder if my mother feels the same way about the wind as I do.

silly, silly.



Everything was still. Everything was still. Everything is still.
My hair is warm and it heats my face
As the yellow sun shines down and blankets my pale skin.
A puddle of water at the bottom of the hill I rest on is illuminated;
Mirrors in the grass.

The leaves on the trees dance contently with the wind.
The branches, wanting not to feel left out, join in on the dance.
Its a tango.
The world is so big and I am so small.
I'd dance with the trees, but they're far too tall.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

that party last night was awfully crazy~



Sometimes I regret coming to Green Mountain. I see pictures and hear stories of my friends from home going out and spending time in the city, going to huge parties with lots of beautiful people, going shopping, going out to dinner at fancy restaraunts, and out to the clubs at night. I'll admit that part of me is jealous of that lifestyle. I could go for some nightlife! Sometimes I like to get dressed up and go out! I like wearing heels and cute dresses. I love fashion! Why can't I experience this aspect of college life? Should I? Should I even care?
I really don't know what's appealing about frat parties, cheap beer and snobby, fake tanned state-school girls: but something is. There is some allure in this lifestyle that I can never be a part of.

Every time I think about leaving Green Mountain, I have to remind myself of all of the reasons that I love it here. The people are wonderful, insane, different. We're all outsiders in some aspect. We came here because we don't feel like everyone else. We find importance in things that most other young people do not. That's why I came here, at least. I love the warm nights at the river and the unforgettable walks (stumbles) back, I love our small but beautiful campus, and believe it or not... I love the food! We're surrounded by the mountains-- we're enveloped by the leaves, the foliage, the dirt, the snow. The air is fresh and crisp, the students are kind and eclectic. This world is amazing, this beautiful life is more than I could ever ask for and I'm so happy to be here. This is my story, at this green place.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

on the road

I'd like to pack up and leave again- I'd take an old road map, some paper and a pen. I'll explore the world and its every bend, the whistling wind as my only friend.

Monday, August 10, 2009

So, I'm working on turning back the clock
trying to pause the old tick and tock
and the time rewinds to yesterday
I just wish I had more to say.
la la la la la worms in my brain again.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Nothing I say really matters.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

old father time

"The light had the quality of water. It was moving through a conscious element. Time is a player. Time is a part of today, not simply a measure of its passing."
-The World & Other Places





Most people don't realize that time is a part of every single thing we do. Time, to us, is some ambiguous force that we can dissect and slice into tiny pieces, rather than acknowledging time as a whole. The sand in the hour glass means so much more than just sand.

We use time simply as a means of measurement, not fully appreciating the fleeting beauty of what time really means. Time. Hours. These hours are all we have, and they will not last for ever. We will run out of time.

I have been so reflective lately. I keep looking back, wishing to leave this life and return to what once was. I'm just now realizing that what was, is no more. The past does not exist. All of those minutes are gone forever, lost in an abyss of nothingness. Those are seconds I will never get back.

Time. How quickly it seems to pass by. How long the last twenty years has seemed, but how quickly the next twenty will disappear right in front of me. Time is a part of everything I do.

I've never been one to plan out my day, week, life. I'd rather take things as they come. So many of my friends are so busy planning that they are not taking advantage of time as it is. Life as it is, today.

I want to dance my way through life. I do not want to spend my years never really having lived. The day to day bores me. I'd like something fresh, please.

I don't enjoy thinking about time which has passed. Hours and moments which I will never get back. After something is over, all that is left is our perception of said event. We'll never again own it, we'll never again feel it. Its gone. Nonexistent. That scares me. THAT hurts. Just think about what it means for something to just NOT exist.

I wish I had listened when people told me to enjoy being a kid because someday I'll wish I could go back to childhood. I never believed them. And here I am, looking back fondly on minutes passed. I can't go back. Even as I write this, time is falling through the hourglass and becoming nothing but history.

I'm currently staying at a cottage along the beach. Its raining and the sand is wet. The water is vast and immeasurable.

I feel bad for _____.I just want her to realize that her time with _______ WILL run out. Whether its months, years, or an entire lifetime away. Nothing lasts forever. The darkness will consume them.
She is rarely happy, and even when she is-she only focuses on that which digs at her inside. I don't know his side of the story, and I don't want to. All I know is that someday, she will look back on these times with sadness and regret. That is, unless she begins to take advantage of and truly dive into the beauty of their love. People don't last forever, and tomorrow has been promised to no one. I wish she would realize this now so that it doesn't haunt her later. She is beautiful and so is what they have. But when strife and anger is all that is ever focused on, strife and anger is what will continue to show its face over and over and over again.

I know that time is something that I cannot ignore, control or create. Time is everything around me. It is here. It is now. Then its gone.