from ashes to starlight

Sun and Moon

2011-04-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

Beyond the moon there are stars and
possibilities, cracks
in time and voids of light
beyond the moon there is chaos and
order, planets following perfect
rotations and craters being formed by
off balance shooting meteors
beyond the moon there are laws
for things as of yet undiscovered
and beyond the moon there is a sun
that allows for all the life on this rock
and under this sun there are flowers
and schedules
there are film stars and serial killers
under this sun there are people with
agendas and time slots and
suffering and also
unsurpassable room for creativity
but above all else, under our sun
there is a boy who plays with trains
saying his is comfortable coming to rest
and a girl with a train station and a smile
for the sun and moon
in his eyes

Art Observations

2011-02-01T18:08:00.001-08:00

light splatters like a Pollack on
your shoulders
the curvatures distorting squares into
oblong smiles
I want to soak up these moon rays
spread over your neck
lips lapping up
organic chemistry, bred from
nightmare dreamscapes
of over happy monologues
in the darkness we
grasp at straws
fingertips over collarbone mistakes
tendons straining under moving necks
I am an object in your path
sharing your space
filling you like molten lava
volcanic heart spilling over
into this lunar moment
we are fond, found in arms
wrapped like gifts on no particular day
in each other
skin to skin and breath to lung
I see you
splattered with beauty
in life painted spot on your back
and I want you
to know me

Leaving

2011-01-24T22:45:00.000-08:00

I see wind like surprise
from a baby faced boy
laughing with our skinny
prospects at becoming
a big, fine man in the time of a
injured ego and a country full of
ex-Pats. We lost ourselves in
music and magic and science fiction
burning desire with Zippo lighters and
hoping someday our records
would be eradicated, erased and misplaced
we are the cream of the crop
the sweet of the saints or
the magician’s apprentice
hoping to hear something useful from
parents or teachers or junkie friends
watching life gurgle from their throats
as Percocet clogs their veins.
Our dreams were dashed in your eyes.
I watched the mirror smashed with
greasy pots and pans
knocked in your head with dead metaphors and
conjunctivitis
cosmopolitan nightmares rushing like
sororities and the fraternity to which you wished you
belonged wronged you by
noticing your k-mart shoes.
We had dreams once. Like skies and
no limit fairy tales. And college
used to seem so far away.

Burning House

2011-01-24T22:44:00.000-08:00

Motion picture fallout and I see flames
Licking at your lips
There is no word for the look in your eyes
Where the closest emotion is conflicted amour
Arduous glares and I wish you
Would take a piece of me
Leave a memory on skin to cherish
Like a child born of dispassionate offhand remarks
Mark me, make me a target
focused fetishes and easy money
There is fire in this movie
I have seen it before
Our candle lit in closed spaces
Burns the house down
Leaving us naked in the middle
Ash circle
Staring at the spectacle, people gather
And what could be mistaken as
A burn has suspicious cuts around its edge
We watched as they shot glares and cameras
And only told of being the victim
When in our secret, the fire
Was sparked by something quite different

“Here is the Home of Color and Light”

2011-01-24T22:43:00.000-08:00

what if you understood
what I was trying to say
like you tried to
make sense of moving lips
curving hips and tucked away body language
figuring that when I looked
past your corneas
touching your spinal cord
with unkempt fingernails
you would feel my words
plucking your heart strings
like a violin concerto
written for multiple voices.
your fingers are white piano keys
mine forming black ones
chromatic chromosomes
entwining, moving our fist
down to my waist, in our song
we dance
words floating like
clouds around our crowns of sunlight.
what if you understood
what I was trying to say
that every drop of music on my
tongue was to sing you into
the heavens
and drag you to the dance floor
because I love being caught in the silence
and the stillness
of you.

I Wrote a Sonnet for You

2011-01-24T22:42:00.000-08:00

We rested under a shady tree
To pass the day in style
We looked each other in the eye
And hoped to stay a while
But as we dove into the deep
Swimming in our souls
We noted something we couldn’t keep
That we were growing old
And if we sat until the dark
We wouldn’t last the night
And if we spoke what’s in our minds
We would begin to fight
So with closed eyes we hoped to be
That which differs from reality

Blush

2011-01-24T22:26:00.000-08:00

We sprung into life
working magic into our leaves
our branches winding fire
in our flesh
I looked at you as the wind
swept the dust off your face
sparkling skin flecking
the morning cloud bursts
When it rained I watched
you dance
and as the thunder shook your boughs
you brushed my hands
and my leaves blushed into
autumn

Senioritis

2009-12-11T05:52:00.000-08:00

Even though I love my writing class, it seems unable to escape in inescapable senioritis which has increased to 11 in the last month. I have no drive to write. To do homework, to even try anything. I am tired all the time and keeping it real, I could probably sleep for a few days. I still have applications to do and that tiny little piece of glass at the back of my throat that wonders if I will get in to my dream school. And threatens to cut me to pieces if I don't.

I have been thinking about the future instead of the now. My long term boyfriend and I know we probably can't do this whole long distance thing. And since he is staying in Kentucky and I plan to move across the country to Washington, shit is going to hit the fan emotionally. And it sucks to think about that. So I try not to.

On the not so brighter side which is actually not so heavy, I have a 10 page paper due on Monday. As this is Friday, I have this weekend to start and finish researching and writing those 10 pages. Which would suck a massive one if I didn't have a topic or a passion for TS Eliot. But I still lack the motivation. So I will rant a tiny bit more. Right here, instead of putting any effort into my paper.

This weekend is going to be fun.

Waiting for Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T12:04:00.000-08:00

Today is Thanksgiving and I am sitting in a house full of partially cooked food and three delicious fully done deserts. And I am waiting. I am waiting because I had a headache this morning and couldn't get it to go away. I worked this morning at 6:30 am to wait for people to come in and buy their last minute rolls and pies and donuts. Now I am the one doing the waiting. My parents and family and everyone went on a nice walk so they wouldn't have to wait. I needed to stay and watch my cheesecakes (which we baked in our absent neighbor's home) and sleep and be good to my body. So now I am awake, smelling pumpkin cheesecake, chocolate cake, potatoes and TURKEY!! But it's not
done. So I wait. Alone. Doing this.

I can't wait to eat.

The Digital Reporter

2009-11-16T05:43:00.000-08:00

After reading a stinging argument about how journalism will be met with technologic advances and new waves of blogging ability, I decided to blog about it. Which is this. The article, posted ON THE INTERNET (http://www.poynter.org/content/content_view.asp?id=142379)describes what is happening currently with the news. Since there are so many newspapers going under in the metaphorical rip tide of electronics, what and how will news be distributed? More and more people get information from online sources and things of that nature, or forums where one can post a question, get many answers and choose for themselves what answer suits them or is most plausible or even just which answer pops up most often and therefore must be true. The paper aspect of news is disintegrating just as it would if you left one of those thin sheets out in the rain. The bright side is that we, as news consumers, are being more environmentally healthy. This new way of doing things is saving so many trees, one whole forest may be saved a year. And 40% of statistics are made up on the spot.

I am still growing up in a society that loves to waste. There is, however, an inherent slanting toward the newest and shiniest way of thinking which led to the personal computer, the laptop computer, the phone computer and the notreallybeingabletothinkforyourselfanymore computer. I like this last one because it's easy. Its like me and math. The higher levels of math I enroll myself in, the more lower level math gets pushed out of my brain. The more internet/tv/blogging news there is, the more paper media gets shat on.

The article also makes the point that middle-of-the-road news just doesn't make the cut anymore. This is true. Even on TV, I really don't like all the mumbo jumbo news they show on bipartisan networks anymore (Not that many stations are REALLY bipartisan anymore). I like, no LOVE John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. I am a flaming democrat. If you couldn't tell. I get more news from their scathing remarks than I ever would from CSPAN, CNN, NBC, or even FOX NEWS combined. They tell stories that may have been mundane in their purest forms, and they tack sequins, goose feathers, show girl makeup, and a unitard to those stories and parade them around like you are in Las Vegas. I like this. I listen to this, and I even can disagree with this. When I watch these shows (Countdown with Keith Oberman or Rachel Maddow Show), I find myself actually taking in the news and deciding for myself just how much to believe, how much to reject, and what to disagree with.

News papers may be used more and more as streak free window cleaners, but news sites will always flourish. Until the next better thing comes along. Reporters need to have a job and citizens need fodder. The news will never go out of style. There is always something new for people to grab onto. Blogging about blogging about news and how news has evolved is not really the best way to change the world. But saving the world, one tree at a time, is a good thing. So let the people eat cake-let them have their new-age news and post-technoboom rioting. It's the news that needs to change.

New Moon Smile

2009-11-12T05:27:00.000-08:00

I love Twilight. I know it sounds cliche and dull now, but I have loved Twilight since before it was cool to love Twilight. I love re-reading the book and must say I was not deterred by the movie. Unlike some of my friends, I was able to separate the movie from the books and so enjoyed the sweeping filmography and contrasted blue lighting. And now comes the second movie in the series. New Moon. For those who have not read the book or have even come out from under their rock since 2007, I will explain. This book was stressful. It was not just stressful, it consumed my life for the two days it took for me to read it. I must have burned a million calories just from how fast my heart was beating. Edward left. Edward LEFT HIS LOVE!!!! And these books are not just books you can look at and say, "aww poor Bella, I'm sorry." NO! These are books that make you feel personally offended whenever something happens that shouldn't. This is the connection I have formed with the Twilight series. This is why some people love me and some people despise me. This is why my boyfriend covers his eyes everytime a preview comes on. And tries to grab his hand away before I can squeeze the life out of it.

I realized yesterday as I was watching TV that I have completely gone off the deep end. Before anything came on the screen, I was reclining, no particular look on my face except possibly apathy. I heard the music before I saw it. It was sort of golden red lighting and I knew what that meant. I sat straight up in bed and had the largest grin ever on my face. My mouth was open. As the werewolf jumped over Bella's head, I actually squeeked. I was butt-bouncing on the bed, too excited to sit still. My heart raced and I felt some flutterings where I never thought I would for a fictional character. I don't just love this, I am IN LOVE with this. I can already feel the anxiety from when Edward leaves. I can already feel myself osmosing into the screen, wanting to be her even though I hate Kristen Stewart. I love this rush. I love that it bugs people and that I can't control myself or the involuntary noises which sprout from having a life which revolves around some mythical creatures and a town which I HAVE BEEN TO (when I was a little kid before the series even had been thought up)!!! So you know that you can expect me to show up to the theater wearing my Forks, WA shirt. And a peacoat. And my hair down.

And I will love every minute of it.

Gaia

2009-11-10T06:07:00.001-08:00

She walked along the concrete
Watching daisies sprout behind her
Footsteps
Wilted grass with life pumped
Into it
She breathed life into death
Stared him in the eyes
And
Walked forward

Ghetto

2009-11-10T06:06:00.003-08:00

I’ve got a little ghetto in me
I ride with my bass up loud
Windows rattling
So what if what I’m
Bumping
Is Britney Spears, Ratatat or
Muse
I have swagger in my hips
And I can pop lock and drop it
My ass is made for grooving
Even if my hair is in
Pigtails, I’m wearing
A turtle neck
And sneakers
I’m sorry if my boobs fit
Into my shirt
My skirt
Covers my junk
And I like dancing
Mostly upright
I’ve got a little ghetto in me
My apologies that
I get straight “a’s”
And I still go out on the weekends
With the general respect
Of my parents
Go ahead and go salsa dancing
With your confusion
At my paradox
I bump and grind with mine
Because you know what?
Why not wrap yourself in
Contradictions
My diction is correct but my moves
Are questionable
And when I pull up at a light
Yes
I want to be noticed
So my bass goes up
And I feel
People around me feel
The beat in their hearts
Like it jumpstarted
Something long dormant
I’ve got a little ghetto in me

Kentucky

2009-11-10T06:06:00.001-08:00

This place gets under your skin
Like you were cut with a blade
Of bluegrass
And stitched together with
Warm memories and orange leaves
This place is a Clair de Lune moment
Every time you drive
Up and down the contours of a
Life built on land and cattle and horse
This place gets under your skin
This is the kingdom of heaven
Each tree and hill and pasture
Contains a story of a life
They survived
This place gets under your skin
Like a lover who kisses
Your bruises
And tells you they love you
As they wrap their lips around
The cut you got
When you fell from grace
And tells you
This place gets under their skin
Too

Love Affair

2009-11-10T06:05:00.000-08:00

She had a love affair
with Thornton Wilder
With a side note of
ee cummings
hugging his spine to
her chest
throbbing between her breasts
she could feel his
proud dream horse
and the skin of his teeth
scraping against her neck
they drove her
mad
they lived in Our Town
shaking it up
between their covers
her blond hair
getting stuck between their
pages
it was wilder in
their lives now and they
were
e....e....cumming
“Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,”
gushing Buffalo Bill’s Defunct
between green mountains
they were the queens of france
jumping with the ringing of doorbells
worried
their spoils may be
discovered
she had a love affair
with poetry
with a side note of
prose, plays, and prophets
she longed for her fingers
thumbing the
paper
her nails collecting
smooth, juicy
verbs
they were doing things
you could never imagine

Sea

2009-11-10T06:04:00.001-08:00

I stepped outside my door, grabbing a sweater from the hook. I took small steps with what was left of the small ocean of tears drying in the cool wind on my face. I felt a walk was in order. It had been a rough day. I took longer strides when the beach came into view. Sand blew up around my ankles and I had to squint my eyes to see through the mess of dust, weeds, pollen, and sand. I kept my pace steady, heading for the water. My feet were bare, sinking small distances with every step forward. I reached the tongue of the sea, watched it lick the beach’s fingertips extending out into it. My feet became baptized; I was in a holy earth mosque, I washed my feet before prayer. I didn’t know to whom I was praying or if a plea was the same as a prayer, but I spoke, wrapped up in cotton and polyester and spandex mixed fabric.
“I know I can’t change things now, but is there any way I could have saved this? Saved him? If it is not too cliché, I would ask for a sign that I did or did not do something wrong.”
I gathered my sweater tighter around my shoulders and watched the stars a moment longer, looking for I don’t know what. I turned back, walking through the high grass and pebbles toward my sliding glass doors. I grabbed at the handle and tugged the stiff metal to the right, scraping sounded from where neglect had left the sliding mechanism rusted and resistant. I lifted my legs to step inside and noticed as the lack of sleep and fatigue of mind had weakened my muscles and slackened my bones. I shook off the sweater, leaving it lying on the floor, crawled into bed and laid my head on the pillow. As I closed my eyes, I was sure I saw a rabbit smiling at my door.

You Cried

2009-11-10T06:03:00.000-08:00

You cried
I saw your name on my receiver
Those six letters forming
A sound so familiar
So comfortable
I had to stop my thumb from
Clicking ignore
I had to hold my hand back from
Moving too fast
And seeming too eager
To talk to you
I wanted
To talk to you
You had confronted me
The night before
You said its time to be friends
You said
Can I confide in you?
I said please
I would love that
You stopped and started my heart
All at once
You put a plank in the space
Where OUR bridge used to be
The night before
We talked like we knew
Nothing had happened
Like you hadn’t hurt me
The day I saw your name in
White letters embossed
On black light
Something changed
Your words, your voice
They made me smile
And you said
I think I made a mistake
You cried
And I cried
Feeling my heart jump
Up through the roof of my mouth
My head racing, making my smile
Fade
Into bliss
You wanted me back
You never asked me to forget you
You never asked me to forgive
But I wanted to
They say that live IS forgiveness
And baby, I love you
I love you

Truth

2009-11-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

Look at me
Drink in my tall glass of water
And tell me
You don’t love me anymore
Tell me I should be angry
At you
For loosing your grip
And letting me go
But not quite
You wonder how I stay so calm
Talking in long short sentences
While I’m bawling on the phone?
I learned from the best
You testing yourself
Seeing how long you could
Resist another touch
Singing in a tone deaf voice
Singing OUR SONG
Couldn’t get me back now
I’m too far gone
I say friends is fine
But the hurt you inflicted
Is too deep seated
I am defeated
Torn up in the second stage
Of acceptance
My anger is too much now
How could you?
All I wanted was
Something close to my own terms
Not this other girl
Bullshit
Sure
You are being gracious
I love you for that
But right now
I deserve the respect of
A lie
Knowing “it’s just too hard
Right now”
Would be easier than this
Knowing she caught your eyes
And I lost your eyes
Is unbearable
Come on now
Tell me it’s not another girl
There is a tumor the size of Kansas
Lumping up in my throat
And I hope it will
Cough up soon
But maybe I should
Be angry
Maybe I should yell
But it’s just so fucking hard
When the only person
I want to see
Is you
And the only voice I want to hear
Is yours
And every time I get a text
I hope it is your name
In white font
At the top of the screen
It is difficult to let you go
When all I want
Is you
Maybe I should be mad
But how can I be
When
For some god awful reason
I STILL LOVE YOU
And for some horrible turn of phrase
I know
You still love me too!
I am raw
Right now
I miss you
Right now
I know you cannot do this
That I am only making things harder
But
It has to get harder
Before it gets better and
My cheeks are wetter
Than ever before
And I know
I need to stop thinking about you
But when I feel my heart
Beating too fast
I know it is you
And the memory of you
That makes it too hard
To be mad at you
Right now.

Feat of Women

2009-11-10T05:59:00.001-08:00

Our feet are beautiful
The calluses that grow into shelves
To catch our tears
Are beautiful
They are worn-in
Black smooth leather
Chasing after beasts, breasts wild
Wielding spears
Screaming battle cries
UHHYAHHH!
They are our history
They are a (gasp)
Gasp for breath
As they are tied and broken and bound
Into things inhumanly small
And they are relief
Coming in shoots of bamboo pain
As the shoes are torn from us
Mixed with blood and hate
And sex
And tossed to the floor for
The right to vote
The right to hope
So now we go barefoot
Marching in an army
To place flowers in gun barrels
Just to be broken down again
Our feet are persistence
Bleeding out the grime and sand and
Lies
That have been lodged in
The wrinkles and cuts from times
When walking was not
Enough
Because we ran in the paved cities
When there was no one and
Everyone
Watching
Conditioned to
Stare blindly
At those mad women
Running from their chains
Our feet are beautiful
Carrying fifteen extra pounds or more
Of soon to be born
Body of love
And complaining but remaining
Standing nonetheless
And they are beautiful
Swollen and weak
Bringing tears to our eyes
Confronting our fears as
Rough hands catch us and
Hold us and
Let us cry
When the memory of mothers and
Notion of motherhood
Is commotion in our heads
And out feet wait to stand again
Holding small fingers
Caressing small toes
That may walk soon enough
So that we may take
A break
Our feet are beautiful

Brothers

2009-11-10T05:49:00.000-08:00

Tonight the forest died
Too much was taken
Tree skins flayed
And laid aside, cut and used
Bruised
Crumpled in the mouth
Of an iron monster
I saw fire
Blasting out the top of their
Skulls
Flames licking at the tender
Confused wood flesh
Moaning in realization of anguish
Their time was up
Tonight the forest died
Crimes against nature
Have been nurtured into
Faux-blessings
For the greater good
I stood at their gates
With my arms around friends
And felt my redwood brother
Breathe in the fear around
Staring down that
Iron monster
Who came to cut and mangle
Devour and stain
The earth with its mark
Of void
Tonight the forest died
I stepped aside
Clutching just my life in my
Fingertips
Wishing it could do more
To my foe
Than just BE
Energies hurricaned my head
Tears wading down as I
Watched them fall
All gone in one by one pattern
And that iron-mouthed monster
Still so unsatisfied
I thumbed the silk-smooth life
And threw it up in ocean of sky
Hoping the wind would carry it
Somewhere better
The night the forest died
Cosmic breath
Pushed my skins toward
A room with power
Now or never, it was time to step
Into the role of protector
Dole out the punishments
For killing my brothers
Putting them in
Iron monsters
Hearing them scream
Green mouths yelling
Telling us to stay but still
Pushing us away so that
Later
More would survive
I will not give up
The night the forest died
I was born