Christmas present :)

So, here's My Dad's Christmas Present.  It's not as cool as the Fathers day one, I didn't have the same number of poems to pull from.  Because of that, I also put in a lot of my favorite quotes.  Things that inspire me or just make me happy because someone else expressed a truth so well.
Hope you like it :)

DO NOT READ THIS until you've read ugly baby poemlings 4, 6, 7 and 8. (2 posts back)

Perhaps

The so familiar lines of you

I traced with my fingertips

Through the air

And I wonder

How your tongue purpled with wine

Would taste against the red on mine-

When your mind to pleasure strays

If it met mine, would you stay?

Could you be enough for me

If I would let you try to be…

Useless thoughts,

Left in the dark

Waiting quietly

Until my eyes, filled with adoration

Find (in yours) like declaration.

Crying Shame

(They say) I’m fine now

(But) my heart is still

(drowning in unshed tears)

(Tears) I’ve found (to be)

The (best or the only)

way to save our souls.

I started playing with parenthesizes-read it with and without them. 

Cool or gimmicky? 

when I grow up

I want to be like
Chris
and 
Jenna

Chris and Jenna ya'll, check em out on itunes.  All three of you that read this ;)

Not all thoughts are worth a penny....

check out my first ever attempt at a video blog

and then, the much less cool pieces of poems I haven't taken time to polish or finish, but am now posting so I feel bad that all you can see is phase 1 of the poems and I actually finish them.  Here's hoping that's how this works!

Or I could just say that I"m showing you My Process and that this is how baby poems get born.  They start ugly, then you find the pretty parts, delete the icky stuff, write more, still don't like it, piece together a cohesive poem, then finally pretty the whole thing up.

So, with out further adieu, I present to you Ugly Baby Poems (but don't tell them I said that)

Poemling 1

Empty spaces for ghosts to fill

She left a bassinet, a tiny shoe

The stars may laugh

But angels cry

As I sing this last lullaby

Poemling 2

She caught your eye from across the room

Search light through the crowded gloom

Looking you up and down

She’s the right kind of wrong
 for your dirty dreams

But the wrong kind of right,
clear your head and breath

You’re her knight in shining armor
she’s your drama queen

But better keep your visor down,
Medusa’s best unseen

And if I said she’s just a soul sucking siren-

You’d   nod and agree

With me

But you’re caught by the song that she’s singing

the Dream that she’s weaving

so I can’t see you leaving

With me

Poemling 3

Why do we wish on shooting stars,

the answer to our prayers

That a piece of the great beyond

should deign to fall so near

Why search for gold at the rainbow’s end?

Eyes dredging the muddied ground

While all the gems from caverns deep

In the grey sky are found

Why ask for love from fragmented flowers

We bruise beneath our feet

When one simple rose,  given to her

Your heart could make complete

Poemling 4

Like how your tongue purple with wine

Would taste against the red on mine

And if your brown skin, wet with rain

Can give as much pleasure, as now causes pain

Whether my heart, when under your hand

Would beat too hard for my chest to stand

These things I wonder, I never may know.

Unless my eyes, filled with adoration

Would find (in yours) like declaration.   

Poemling 5

Autumn falls with the evening

Tops of burnt trees still flame,

Setting clouds on fire with brilliant shades

That echoes those of the bonfires

Burning leaves

Poemling 6

The so familiar lines of you

I traced with my fingertips

Through the air

Poemling  7

Every time I love,

I love you.

It’s been too long since you were so close

And I felt your breath through the wind

A petal soft touch that rips sobs from my chest

Wishing you still lived here

It’s been too long since you were so close

Since the curl of you hair brushed my cheek

They say I’m fine now

But my soul is still drowning in my unshed tears

Poemling   8

and

Tears Are often (how often-too often)

The best (or the only) way to save your soul

Poemling   9

The twist of the words on your tongue

The way my eyes look for you around every corner

The way you pay in pounds, not pennies for my thoughts

I really don't like these poems as wholes, but there are pieces in each that I want to pull out and create something beautiful with.  Sometimes it's one line in 20 that I write that will be in the final version.  Sometimes, it's the idea of the whole poem, but no exact lines end up in the final product.  Rarely, a poem just pops out almost perfectly formed (but none of these are that!)

Hopefully, soonish, I'll have progressed somewhere with these and you can see how far they come!

Writing songs.

For awhile now, I've wanted to write my own music.  I've been inspired by my friends, and my love of music and poetry.  I've been trying to write more stories, but all my brain wants to do in prose are monologues and essays. So while I'm kicking my brain's butt into shape (I hope that's possible) I've been on a song writting kick.  First, here's another song I've been working on.  Again, it's a work in progress, but it's got a pretty melody and I like some of the phraseology, so here it is:

Arizona

I’m blinded by the city lights

No God no truth and oh no light

Ready to go

Somewhere the skyline’s bare

As the blankness I in your empty stare

When I tell you I’m leaving tonight

     For Arizona

     Where the sun’s always shining

     Till the sky’s lit by diamonds

     Arizona

     They say the grass is always greener

     But there I'll have none to compare.

Night and day I fight to dream

But waking up I find tears gleam

in my eyes

Please, tell me that there’s something here

I’m never gonna  find out there

Far away

     In Arizona

     Where the sun’s always shining

     Till the sky’s lit by diamonds

     Arizona

     They say the grass is always greener

     But there I'll have none to compare.

I’m not ready to leave you

Cause my heart still believes you

Love me

So give me one thing to believe in

To keep me from leavin'

tonight

     For Arizona

     Where the sun’s always shining

     Till the sky’s lit by diamonds

     Arizona

     They say the grass is always greener

     But there I'll have none to compare.

But some days when you see me

Looking far away

 you’ll know that I’ve gone

     To Arizona

     Where the sun’s always shining

     Till the sky’s lit by diamonds

     Arizona

     They say the grass is always greener

     But there I'll have none to compare.

I went to Arizona for a week, and whenever life overwhelms me I find myself missing it.  So I wrote this song.  

and in exchange for reading my experimentations without even a melody to make them better, here are some of my favorite lyrics written by my friends:

Rough Draft:

(Rome)

You're the capital of corrupt creativity and compromise

you're the Rome all the roads lead to just to die...

Kim Spears:

(Go Back)

We can go back he said
like a parenthesis
cups what’s supposed to be
uttered implicitly
We can go back
and spin
tales that we’ve never told
travel to place unknown
and fly on the wings you’ve flown
to unsow th seeds you’ve sown
Can we go back?

Blind Man Leading:

(Sir Lestat)

Down one more twilight road

somewhat crippled, but just in your soul...

There's just no sunlight left in your hair

To recollect.  It's been 500 years, 

yet you still stop for the breeze in the lilacs

that you just couldn't live without.

(Parachute Embrace)

I could recite the perfect opening to a timless romantic play

but that won't weave your love into a heart so frayed

I guess we weren't as brilliant as the public hope

with inspiration stuck in the back of our throats

Chris and Jenna:

(The Next Best Thing)

How can I hope to live with just one wife

To keep my heart with her and her alone

When so many things say reach for what you want

and Love will find you on it's own

But on its own, love never came

So I walked this road, and I've come aways 

but these girls with golden hair

just cry out love afair

and I will stare when sirens start to sing

so how can I say I"m with you all the way

If I"m always looking for the next best thing?

How can I hope to live for just one God

So many things are trying to replace

I see them shine reflections in my eyes

Blind me so I can not see his face

So I erase the God I've known 

melt down the gold and formed my own.

(Don't know this one's name, it's an old one!)

By this time my eyes have acquired 

their very first coat of glaze

and the colors in yours that I once admired 

have faded to mid-tones and grays

...and my wandering heart

it is sure to wander away

from the beautiful lie that it loved not another

...so how can you say that love is forever?

(I don't know about you)

Hey, you- slightly confused

Weary of falling too far

I'll be waiting around 

wanting to know who you are

...

Hey you cautious to move

taking one step at a time

right now, over and out

is pulling me further from fine

and I don't know about you-

But I do better when you are around me

Speaking the truth that confounds me

berates me and tells me to grow up

start looking for once at the whole cup

instead of the part that is not there

let's focus on the part that is there

So yes, Thanks for taking the time to read this, I hope you found something you like! BML and Chris and Jenna are on itunes if you want to listen to snippets of their songs :)

Another story. And a poem, because I couldn't resist.

Going along with my dedication to write more stories, instead of just poems, here is an excerpt from a story I've been playing with:

I can’t even begin to tell you how many princes have been toasted, baked, and charbroiled in failed rescue attempts. But of course, that always gets left out of the wedding stories (though Rupunzel said it worked out pretty well for her – “I mean after a prince goes to all that the trouble of rescuing you, it isn’t quite polite to turn down his proposal and I couldn’t stand to marry a man who didn’t work out! So you see, that they had to climb my hair really, well, weeded out the weak if you get my drift” and gave her some nice read highlights in that thick blond hair of hers).

Okay, that’s a bit catty. But it does get tiresome. You have no idea how many times at royal feasts, holidays, and (of course) weddings a well meaning relative comes up to me and asks if it isn’t about time that I found a nice tower to stay in for awhile? Or tells me what a shame it is my parents didn’t make more enemies so one of them could have cursed me with something-or-other to attract a handsome young prince (nothing too nasty, mind you – like poor Princess Sharon. Not many princes want to rescue a princess from a plague of boils.). They sigh, looking at me pityingly and tell me it’s too bad really, they know a lovely young prince who’s looking for a quest, but unless I get my act together and get attacked by a dragon or a witch, he’s going to find someone else to rescue.

And therein lies the problem. Sure, meeting a nice guy sounds great, but I don’t really want to spend a couple years stuck in a tower planning my wedding while I’m waiting for him. Princess Aurora had it good, she got to fall asleep the whole time, woke up for her wedding very well rested, and didn’t make the princes life miserable asking why he didn’t come sooner like so many girls do.

Besides which, I don’t really want to have to deal with all those men risking their lives for me. It sounds romantic, but I’d feel awfully bad for the ones who died. I don’t quite understand how all these other girls stand it. Breaking hearts is one thing when it’s figurative, but literal stopping of hearts bothers me a bit.

and because I couldn't resist, here's a poem too-

Incomplete

I sit here staring at the blank spaces

You used to fill

Seeing you, now only from the corner of my eye

Your life a broken promise

The shooting star burnt out before dreamers made their wish

A rainstorm with no rainbow

Where once there was a story beginning to unfold

Remains three letters- R.I.P.

3

Here are a story, a song, and a poem. They were all just completed, so I'll probably tinker with them a little more before they're really done, but I'm really happy with them now so I thought I'd share :)

______

Reduction (a short story)

A piece of marble cold and grey, rested in a quarry in Carrara, Tuscany with Its’ brothers. It waited patiently in the lot as each portion was individually assessed for quality. After much waiting, It was selected for shipping and carefully carried to the city of Florence, where it was to be transformed into Art. The marble gloried in Its’ newfound destiny. Within a few ours though, it longed to return to the anonymity of the quarry, for Art-work had commenced. Chisels flashed in the sun, burning with light as they arced down into Its’ flesh, the sound of hammering reverberated through the air as chips flew off the supine stone. Agony was all It new, as pieces of Itself fell to the floor. Some were so large, it seemed as if the half of the stone’s weigh were leaving at once, other slivers were no larger than a grain of sand. But each piece was pain, each piece was a part of the rock being stripped away, laid bare before the world. Only thought that one day, It would take a proud place in this city of beauty kept the marble from madness. Day after day the torture continued until at last the artist stood back with a sigh:

“I am done. I have not been able to achieve the affect I wanted, take it away.”

The artist turned and walked away and only the rain remained to trace tears down the jagged rock’s face

______

Song

(still untitled, and not very song like as you can't here the melody but I'm still working on both of those - I've got ideas, but nothing concrete)

You wander the streets of this broken down town

Scared the cracked sidewalks will swallow your soul

Stop flinging your heart at these concrete walls

And turn away from this blood-stained ground

And

Every Day you say that you cry

Cause the days and your dreams

Are passing you by

And every night I wonder why

You don’t come home.

You ran to the desert to try to escape

The holes you could see in your soul

Did the emptiness you found there fill you up

Or did the silence make you weep?

Still

Every Day you say that you cry

Cause the days and your dreams

Are passing you by

And every night I wonder why

You don’t come home.

A chasm between us grows deep as death

But I pray you can still feel my love

No matter where you are or what you’ve done

You always have my love

Yet

Every Day you say that you cry

Cause the days and your dreams

Are passing you by

And every night I wonder why

You don’t come home.

But you won’t come home….

______

and finally a poem :)

Wishing on the Sun

Tonight I started wishing, on every star for you

And I’ll stay up till dawn brings the biggest and best

If it makes my wish come true.

______

And in closing:

The story is kind of a bummer, I know, but it can actually be read in more than one way, see Michelangelo's David's marble was from a quarry in Carrara, Tuscany and was brought to Florence and worked on by several other sculptors before he created the masterpiece. At one point, it was left for years gathering dust (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_(Michelangelo)). So maybe the marble got another shot, or maybe it just found peace being left alone. Who knows, I don't really.

The song, It's kind of about me missing both Danny and Steve, but you know, with artistic liberties throughout.

And the poem, kind of cutesy I know, but I love the stars in the little prince, so I've got a thing for them, and the idea of wishing on the sun seemed sweet to me :)

and because I'm trying to be productive today, here's something else!

Fireworks

A star

one constant

in the myriad of ephemeral sparks

falling from the sky:

counterpoint to the beautiful burnout

raining ash down onto this dry ground.

Water, part 1

This is the beginning of the story I was talking about the other day, but I'm not really that happy with it. I think it sounds overworked and pretentious. But, I've been feeling that way alot about my stuff lately, so I'll post this anyway and work on fixing this problem ::sigh:: Hope you like it anyway!

In the River

The night was dark, except where the mist collected light in the air, low hanging stars in the solid sky. The grass glittered with freshly fallen raindrops as I walked slowly down the archaic cobblestone streets that did their best to connect the community. My mind still hummed with the after affects of a busy day at work: I pondered problems left half solved, re-hashed carefully made conversations with superiors, and sighed as I thought of the many looming deadlines. But as my mind whirled and my feet paced, the languid evening air began to soak through the mantle of worry I wore and ease my mind. The streets I had driven down so many times possessed an unusual mystery as the fog bent shapes and shadows into new patterns, and admiring these, I paid little attention to where I walked. After a time, I came to an old bridge, perched over a stream bursting with the day’s rain. I paused for a moment to watch as the usually docile waters surge forward with determination, dragging at trunks of trees that usually stood high above its’ banks. The silt from the shores stained the water brown, and for a moment, the river’s pulsing waves appeared to be hundreds of powerful swimmers riding the rapids, pushing forwards over rock formations they had overwhelmed, arms outreached, then snapping back in sharp breast strokes. A sharp snap from a tree, giving in at last to the river’s relentless heaving, drew my mind back to reality. The tree, unmoored from the loose mud slammed against the bridge and with the excruciating rasping of metal tearing from wood, the bridge collapsed into the river. Spinning dizzy, battered by waves and wood I struggled to the surface, gasping for breath. The scintillating cold sucked me back under and rushed me on down the river. Head over heels, I was pushed onward by the throng of insubstantial swimmers until I felt my body dragging on sharp shards of gravel. I clutched handfuls of it, as if holding the pebbles would slow my progress through the darkness. A passing wave thrust me toward the shore and I dragged myself onto the half flooded island and collapsed, curling into a ball to fight the cold.

My Inspirations

I promise I'll put some more of my stuff up soon, but in the interim, here are some of my favorite poems:

in time of daffodils

in time of daffodils(who know

the goal of living is to grow)

forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim

the aim of waking is to dream,

remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze

our now and here with paradise)

forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond

whatever mind may comprehend,

remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be

(when time from time shall set us free)

forgetting me,remember me

e.e. cummings

Dream Girl

YOU will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,
You will pose with a hill-flower grace.

You will come, with your slim, expressive arms,
A poise of the head no sculptor has caught
And nuances spoken with shoulder and neck,
Your face in a pass-and-repass of moods
As many as skies in delicate change
Of cloud and blue and flimmering sun.

Yet,
You may not come, O girl of a dream,
We may but pass as the world goes by
And take from a look of eyes into eyes,
A film of hope and a memoried day.

Carl Sandburg

Always Marry an April Girl

Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.

Ogden Nash

IN A STATION OF THE METRO

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

Ezra Pound

Photos and Poems

This was my father's day present, it turned out better than I thought it would!

http://app.picaboo.com/WebView/Project.aspx?clientID=3020444feca593b70b1b36ef1b6db78c&version=17251

Rest
Like the beach, incessantly pounded by waves
Sand, slowly stripped from its’ shores –
Like the ship brow-beaten through years of storms,
Timber straining through the ceaseless surge –
I yearn to at last be swallowed in the great abyss
Of dark, undisturbed rest.

Haiku time!

Cherry blossoms

Petals fall away

Languidly, leaving a void

In the pink above

Buttercup

I open to you,

Echoing in my small way

The light of my world.

Musing (in or out)

I was a poet,

But I never knew until

You walked through the door

Impressed

I thought of you when

A swift storm soaked through my shirt

Thought of you and smiled

and we're done

Here we go again!

I don't think these are done, but here they are, just for kicks and giggles:

Lyrically Lovely

Because you’re lyrically lovely -

They’ve written every song about you

Trite but true stories about the sun in your smile

The way the wind plays with your hair

They’ve found hundreds of rhymes for the tint of your skin -

A thousand rhythms that throb with your heart

And though they try to tie you down with their ribbons of words,

You fly off the page to be another man’s muse

Self portrait

Like whitened timber

Driftwood on a bare beach

Smooth skin stretched

Riding high on cheek bones

Elbows and knees

The small of the back

The crook of the neck

Weather worn

Storm polished

Unfinished.

The wind

I was born when the caterpillar became a butterfly,

In the first hesitating flutter of her wings, I laughed

Over the ocean’s waves I dance, skimming the surface of its’ mystery

In the bronze barley, I whip my own waves into existence.

In the city, I lift the smog and sweep away the sticky summer sweat

Then I turn around, slapping your faces

Boxing your ears pink, leaving bright red spots on your cheeks

Better late then never!

I was supposed to post this on Friday, but that didn't happen, so here it is today!

Lullabye for the Lost

Hush now my baby, too cold to cry

Momma has eternity for this lullaby

With lips of Blue and eyes rimmed red

Daddy’s little princess fell down dead.

Be still now sweetheart, too worn to care

Wash his stale smell from every curl of your hair

Purple rouge for her cheek, black paint for an eye

It’s been more than a year since she stopped asking why.

Sleep now precious boy, too scarred to feel

As last night’s needle marks begin to heal

Legs of lead and a heart of stone

If he doesn’t wake up, he won’t be alone.

Jim

White eye lashes gleam

Like dust caught in a sunbeam over

Blue eyes, clear and vacant as marbles

The smooth white of your skin stretches over

An upturned jaw slack from song

And a finely crafted nose placed delicately between -

A porcelain boy, sweet doll, whose voice echoes

Canned sentiments that his empty chest

Ought to be filled with.

E.

Bitter lips bleeding cut on sharp words,

Spewing shrapnel cutting those who

come too close to

Her time bomb, ticking.

And you’re a pathetic picture

In the blood red dress

You always wear

To hide the stains on your chest.

Forgiving

Dearest, I will not forgive and forget.

I will not do you this disservice.

Should I wipe ever tear we have shed from our mutual memories –

For friends lost, for loves now dead, for joy?

Should I hide from you all of my many and varied flaws –

Did not the acceptance of these show me your love, set you apart from the rest?

Should I forget the way I felt when your words pierced my heart –

The way the pain at your disapproval reminded me how much we care?

Should we lose these things, these moments of Us?

Neither will I take these words and expunge them from our histories.

Instead, I will carefully fold them, lay them gently in their place

With lavender flowers for freshness and rosemary for remembrance.

I hope you like them!

(my favorite is the first)

It's been too long

I told a good friend of my that I'd start to post again, and so here is my first new post in ages. This one is for you, my friend (though I did take some creative liberties, of course).

Please Come Home
I miss the cadence of our conversations
The easy ebb and flow of our speech and silences
The way words mean the same things to you and me
I miss the casual assumption of kindness
The way you forgive my wayward words
And I hear the expressions you forget to articulate
I miss the hours we lost together
In hazy memories of laughter soaked moments
Spent days, full of beauty and love
I miss the me I am, only with you.