The Long Walk Home

Hand in yours,
I walk quietly.

The sun in my eyes,
Packed dirt below my bare feet,
my throat closes with fear and uncertainty

Thoughts racing through the back of my mind
While the front holds back everything I never told you
And your grip loosens as you notice my fear

I never wanted to feel like this
I never wanted to tell you this

The Earth stands still
You stand still
And it's just me,
again,

As it is supposed to be.

I once told you forever
and I was trying to be as honest as I could
- but now I don't know

The wind is stopped
Light fragments as tangible as the leaf stuck in mid air
As the water molecules remnant in your exhale

I kiss you

Time starts once more
as the Earth begins to move under our feet
Your eyes grow wide
Then relax
and kiss back

My hand pushes you back,
Your arms hold me captive
Eyes promising me a tomorrow
While mine beg for an always

Lips lying about a yesterday
            Without you
I won't
           Forget you

I couldn't         No matter how much I tried

But I expect that you could, me

You close your eyes
and I am gone

A curious thought...
But it has led me to your doorstep;
Camera in one hand
Journal in the other

After snapping a picture of your face
as you opened the door,
I tell you that I now understand
and must show you

The calm breeze gently caressed your skin
lightly tossed your hair
As the sun glittered out from your eyes

You looked at me,
All but surprised
took my hand
and led me inside

We sat in your living room,
the sun peering in through your opened windows
Light filling the whole house
The smell of lilacs and wildflowers flowing in freely

Your hand reached out and touched my face
Steady and strong
you lifted my chin
Beautiful eyes looking back into mine

And in this moment
Our lips will meet

The journal will fall,
pages turning by gravity's will
as thoughts are sifted by
drawings as drawn and then erased by another moment
of another day

As we share this moment,
the final page reads,
"I am nothing without you."

If a god does exist, he sure does hate me this week.

My Last Hope

I'm getting myself together
Folding my thoughts up neatly
Sorting through them
As I decide how to place them in my soul bag

I pull on my dignity
Grab the honesty before I forget it on my cluttered desk
Then head for the door

Taking once last glance back,
Anger glares at me through the slits of the closet's double doors
Depression cries out from the dishwasher

Continuing to glance around,
I almost failed to notice the piggy bank on my side table,
I take up a hammer in my hand and crack it open
Hope flies out in a fury
But I calm her, speaking quietly and gently,
telling her that it's time to leave this haunted home

Tucking her into the pocket of my faded, worn spirit,
She rests peacefully.

I grab my soul bag of thoughts,
sorted neatly,
walk through the door,
and then never looked back.

Dear Mother,

I keep looking out the window,

wondering when I will be going home.

It's been two months 

Though it feels like it could have been longer

I must admit,

Though I guess that I am used to the distance,

The time between visits seems to be taking more of a toll

than I thought was possible

We have phones

and the internet

letters

and texts

But a simple moment together

in peace and in prayer 

I begin to wonder about the life waiting

just before me...

Will it be wonderful like I imagine it to be?

There are so many dreams that I have had

but cannot seem to piece together

Is it all that difficult as it seems?

And if the path leads me astray 

how do I find my way home?

I'm awfully prone to getting lost

without a clue

calling home because I have no idea

of what I should do

Dear Mother,

Sometimes I look to the sky

and wonder if this will all be worth it.

I imagine that it will be

but I don't want to go it alone,

so I am asking of you,

Please leave the door open 

for when I decide to come home.

Love,

Boo

Dear God,

We haven't spoken in a while.  

To be honest,

I don't know why I'm trying to talk now.

We both know where I stand with you.

I'm not angry.

I'm not lost.

I'm exploring the world within myself.

Just leave the door unlocked for when I come home.

Sincerely,

Somethings you can never leave behind

I come to her bed and take her hand,
“Mother,” I say, “It is time for you to go.”
She looks up at me with tired, weary eyes
And whispers to me “I have wanted to for some time,
You know.”

She turns her head to look outside
To see beyond the white curtains
And glass window
Her enclosed prison that has held her
For too long a time

The nice man told her it would be soon
And she cried

I do not know whether it was joy
Or sorrow that I saw in her eyes

I do not know whether it was joy or sorrow
That I felt inside

Brother brought her flowers today
He leaned down and hugged her gently
As not to hurt her
But it does
Everyday it hurts her to be alive

She would never admit it
But the silver frame that has father’s youthful face
Crystallized with time
Would tell you another story

A story of when she believed in not only love
But in life

The nice man gave her a choice
And she chose to walk with him

He took her hand and told her that everything would be alright
She would soon see the valleys and mountains,
The sun, the moon, the stars, and the clouds that gather in Heaven’s sky

He told her that her days were numbered but that in her
He could always find life
And he was right

I remember my mother’s long flowing hair
How it would turn to gold in the sunlight
As she twirled around
taking it in as thought it was the very essence of youth

As she laughed and grabbed my father’s hand
They would part, then collide and kiss
As though the universe could not pull them apart
But it did

I laid with Mother
And asked if she needed anything
She closed her eyes
Breathed in deeply
Then said, “Take me home, dear Lord,
I pray that you take me home.”

She reached for the glass,
Hands shaking as she took hold
She told my brother and me,
“I have only believed in two things in my life;
In Christ Almighty and in love.  Promise me
That each day you will trust in God
And trust in love.  Promise me this.”

We promised quietly,
As she took her first sip of her medication
It was bitter but she continued

We could only sit by her and watch
As she slowly slipped away
A lady until the death

I whisper to myself
Mother,
We will miss you
Each and every day

Dear Mom and Dad,

I keep picking up my phone asking myself if I should call.  I don't know if I should.  It's only been a day since we last spoke and I don't have anything left to talk about but I feel that I should.  The majority of our calls are the same but there's a reason for them.  Maybe not to talk but to share in a moment.  A moment that we feel we are losing as our time on Earth slips through our clenched fingers.

If we were home, perhaps we would be watching tv instead, or chasing Michael around the house.  Instead, we sit on the phone thinking up things, anything really, to talk about.  But it doesn't matter.  That's just how it is.

I keep thinking of my life leading up to this moment:
The dome house
Lighthouse Point
Ormond-by-the-sea
Sturbridge
Fiskdale
Washington
Glastonbury
and Boston- The big city with its bright lights, traffic jams, and ocean view.  The 8 a.m. classes, and the 9 p.m. end of the work day.  Work day?  Work day.

And who would have thought that this would have gone by so fast.  Who would have thought that time would have faded away and instead of being children, we've all grown up.

But when you stop to think about it, you see the sandy beaches, the orange sunsets, and the never ending A1A.  You smell the steaks on the table, the ocean air, and the baby shampoo in the bathroom.  And you feel a sense of love that is non stop, never ending, infinitely expanding as our lives lead us astray.

Do you have any regrets?  Anything you wish that you could take back?  I don't think that you should.  Living with a sense of regret takes away from living each day with a sense of pride and purpose.
Do you think you would do it all the same?  Because I think I would.  I think I would take the good and the bad all over again.

And I don't know what we're put on Earth for but I can tell you what I've taken from it, even if it may not seem too monumental:

If you love and live with a sense of compassion, you will see the world through a whole new lens.  Forgive even when it hurts to.  Love even when you feel the most hate.  Hating someone will only empower that person; kill him with kindness if you have to.  Don't give people a reason to hate you, only a reason to love you.

I don't know what exactly it is that I believe in.  I guess it's just love.  I don't know if I'm right or wrong.  But I know that that's what you both taught me so that's how I'm going to live.

I'm going to live each day with these phone calls that are meant to make up for lost time together.  If you will answer, I will call.  And even if you don't, I'll still try.  There's got to be something that can make up for the missed hugs, forgotten laughs, and moments that will never be that should have been.  I wish that we could stop all of this.  Stop the time, stop the everything.  We could bring it all to back to how it used to be.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I love you and miss you everyday.

For ever and for always,
Your Loving Daughter
Boo

I am a spoon fed replica of the world around me.  I do what I am told and ask only when the instructions are unclear.  When the sun is out, I am awake.  When it disappears below the horizon and the moon rises up, I must sleep because that is what I have been taught.  I do not drink because it is evil and drugs are creations of Satan himself.  I do not talk back because it is disrespectful nor do I speak unless spoken to.  My imagination is confined to a box. I know politics like the back of my hand, and by that, I mean that I don't.  There are constantly new cuts, bruises, freckles and callouses that arise without explanation.  However, I know the alphabet and can recite it forward and back without rhyme nor reason.  I don't know where it came from but I know what it is; that's all that's necessary, right?

I am the robotic youth being told that in order to succeed I need to think outside the box.  I don't even know what the box is that they're telling me to think outside of.  All I know is that I want to find something more worth living for than these monotone days.  A life without a man standing in the front of the room telling me how to think, and instead, telling me where to go to seek adventure, to open my mind.  I close my eyes and see a land of pleasure and pain, love and hate, whereas all that I see around me is a bland mixture churning into itself a grey sludge with chunks of unpasteurized slime.

I am the 20/15 visioned student-athlete competing to be the best at everything around me.  I have thousands of teammates and thousands of enemies.  No one knows me but then again, no one forgets me.  My life is spent loving and hating what I do.  I do not know why I do it, I just do.  Nike has brainwashed the masses. We are living for the sake of living without understanding how it is that we breathe.  I am not a product.  I am a society.

letters

Dear Andrew,


I was never lying when I used to tell you that you were my hero.  To be honest, you were.  You were the closest thing to a friend that I had back then.  As I flip through the photo albums, I wonder when things began to go astray and ask myself, "Am I the one to blame?"  Mom and Dad always said no but I would be a liar if I told you that I believed them.
I don't know when and where things went sour for you.  You were so smart, hell, you still are if you would just pull your head out of you ass and think, for once.  I was always jealous, I still am, about how everyone loved you.  You're so funny, so smart, so clever.  So fuck you, I always worked harder than you and never got anything in return.  I got a "better luck next time" and a "if you work hard, it will show."  But you had it easy, and when you fucked up bad, you were sent to therapy while I sat in my room wondering where my life had gone.  You stole what was mine and I can never have it back.  I don't care how long ago it was, the wound still feels fresh on my skin.  And every time it starts to heal, you pick away at the scab letting it fester and ooze rotten blood from the past.
I would be a liar if I told you that I hate you.  I don't.  To be frank, I never could.  But I want to.  I want to so bad that sometimes I almost convince myself that I do.  I want so badly to convince myself that it's not my fault or, better yet, to convince myself that it never even happened.  But where did my hero turn and run off to?
You once promised that you would always protect me.  You lied.
You once said that you were going to get your life back together.  I'm looking but see nothing but shattered memories and a stitched soul trying to be complete.
...
Dear Andrew,

I miss you.
Please come home.

Love,
Your waiting sister

The Pursuit of Happiness

It's a long, quiet ride home from an even longer day.  A little girl slouches in the back seat of her father's big silver truck, against the window.  More likely than not, she is sleeping.  She is letting the day fade away into the rainy, dark night that lays on the other side of the thin window.  Her father sits in the front seat, fearless, though he's tired and has only five hours of sleep left before he has to drive in the opposite direction to work the next morning.

The radio to a minimum; his wife, daughter, and baby boy quieted by sleep, he must go this journey on his own.  Hours selflessly dedicated towards their children, mother and father, husband and wife, going the daily route together, alone.  Toes still numb from the icy skating rink, he wiggles them and scrunches his eyes to keep himself focused on the road.  The highway lights lead the long way home.

He looks to his right to see his beautiful wife holding her head up with window and hand.  Her grasp on his hand grows weak as she slips into a sweet dream.  In that moment, a lifetime flashes before him and his shoulders slouch with relaxation.  They have made it this far when no one believed that they could.  They triumphed where others failed.  And he is happy.  So happy that everyday he can come home knowing that he is loved and has a family to love.

His baby boy yawns quietly behind him as his eyes flicker open and then closed again.  His soft face, pale in the moon's dim light is peaceful.  His fearless father dips his head and says a prayer for his dear child.

 "Dear God, please bless him.  Please let him lead a happy life without fear, hatred, or suffering.  Lord, I beg of you, please protect him.  I ask of you with everything that I have left within me... within my heart.  My soul.  God, please."


A silent tear rolls down his cheek but he wipes it away as he pulls into the driveway, ending a long drive on an even longer night.  He gently squeezes his wife's hand and wakes her.  She looks up at him and says, "I love you."  As they open their doors, their daughter startles awake, though she continues inside as though in a dream.  They unload their baby boy and carry him upstairs to put him to bed.  After a changed diaper, change of clothes, and a kiss on the forehead, they turn off his light and stand in silence.  She lets her head rest on his chest for a moment then walks down the hall to check on their daughter.  She is safe and asleep.  They close her door until it is only open a mere crack then walk back to their room to crawl into bed.

The darkness fills their vision and takes them into a dream world.  A world of calm and clarity.  Where nothing bad ever happens except the possibility of a rainy day, and even those are welcomed with open arms. He pulls his wife close, takes a deep breath and submerges his mind into the sleep induced coma falling over him. And in this moment, he is happy.  

Sun Shining

Sun shining down on my day
I pray that you do not go away
Do not go away,
-not on this beautiful day

Slowly drowning

and no one can save me

Just a rose that lost her thorns

A bird with clipped wings

I'm broken,

or rather,

Breaking with nothing to hold me together

Hold me together

while I fall apart

I keep closing my eyes
with the attempt to let it all go
to let tomorrow fade away into the rising tide
to let forever
    just
stop

Yesterday seemed so easy,
today, so difficult

Tomorrow... I don't even want to think about,
but as the moments slip away
There seems not to be a choice

Not a light at the end of the tunnel,
not a phrase that will take it all away

It is inevitable


I have fallen apart.

Collective thoughts

I have lost
what I longed
so long to have had

Aching limbs
Red, dried eyes,
I promise you, sir,
I am hardly alive

I am a liar
and when I lay
I have lied
for three quarters
of a hard lived day

I can promise you,
my love,
my heart,
that if you can hear my breathing
and my heart beating
that we will soon be one

Just close your eyes
and I will let you take me over
as my body is washed away into infinity
let loose by your strong, holding arms

I am lost
I am a liar
I have laid down all that I once knew
and I lose
It truly is that simple

Believe me
my one and my only
and then,
let me go

A Letter to an Old Friend

Dear God,

We have't spoken for a while but I felt like we should catch up...

I don't really know what to say though because you know it all.  I guess that I'm just stressed is all, you know?  Like I can't escape all this that's behind me.  Like I can't just step up and let all that's weighing me down, go.  I'm scared.  Really scared.  I've never felt so alone before... mostly because I've never been so alone before.

All eyes are on me and what if I fail?  What if I don't get the last word and I let myself crumble to the cruelty surrounding me.  

God,
I just don't know anymore.

I'm trying and trying but the harder I hold on, the more it all slips away and I have forgotten.  Let me find you. Let me find myself somewhere close by.

God... just please promise that this will all be worth it.

Sincerely,
Losing faith as the days pass by

The Guide to Make Teens Dislike You... For no reason

1)  Be a reserved person.

By this I mean be quiet and enjoy alone time.  If you live with roommates that are all very social people, they will label you as antisocial and call you out on not hanging out with them.  When you explain to them that you just enjoy quiet time, but prepared for them to say that you are a loser or that you are antisocial.  Tell them that you like quiet time.  If they persist... tell them to "Fuck off"

2)  Don't Talk About Your Sex Life

For some reason people just love talking about their sex lives.  Even if you have a very exciting one, just don't talk about it.  You will be asked time and time again to open up about it and when you explain that it's a personal matter and you would rather not share, you will be seen as uncool.

3)  Tell People that You think Oral Sex is Gross

You get a lot of weird looks with this one.  Whether you're joking or not, people are very serious about this for some strange reason.

4)  Be in a Happy Relationship

Your peers will hate this.  Jealousy probably though I hear from a lot of girls that it's because they're "young" and want to do whatever they want.  AKA they like having sex with multiple dudes.

5)  Avoid Conflict

Because it just causes more.

A Small Place Across Town

                There’s a place across town, you’d like it.  Real small… yeah, the kind of place that you can go into and just disappear in for a while.  No one would notice, no one would care.  You can just close your eyes and you’re free. 

                The kind of free that you dream about when you’re an adult thinking about your childhood.  The kind of free that a beaten old dog thinks about after being thrown out and kicked.  You know what I’m talking about…

THAT kind of free.

The grass is green and the sun is such a sweet yellow that it tastes like honey and smells like sunflowers.  The flowers are in full bloom and the ground is moist under your feet.  You don’t remember how hot or chilly it was, you just remember that it was perfect.  That when you looked into the distance, you saw infinity unfolding before your very eyes.  You don’t remember what brought you to this experience, nor do you want to.  You just want to take it all back and relive it again.

THAT kind of free.

The waking up at nine a.m. and not feeling tired.  You smell a freshness flowing through your open windows and are drawn up by the morning’s light.  The one you love the most rolls over and as your eyes meet, you feel like words will never explain how much you would give up for that person, how much you love that one and only person.  You push away your thoughts about how the future scares you and, instead, lean in and share a sweet kiss.  The morning could just pass you by but you don’t care.  You are so free in this moment that you never will let it go.  Not until that last breath crosses your lips and you heart beats its last tune. 

You know what I mean.

You just have to go there.  I can take you but you got to go in on your own.  It’s a personally thing that you have to do.  I’m telling you though, it’s a beautiful thing.  It’s like dreaming while wide awake.  It’s like giving up everything to that one person and having it done in return.  It’s comfortable.   You are so free.  Just follow me, it’s not too far from here.

But once you go in and then leave, you can never go back.  Once you leave that place… just… just go in and don’t leave.  It’s just across town.  I’ll take you.  Go disappear for a while.  You deserve it.

XVII (I do not love you...) by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

A Walk on the Moon

My Love,

Take my hand

We shall dance among the stars tonight

Sing out into the ever expanding Universe

Take a saunter across the moon

Just you and I,

I and you

The stars performing their own light show

Tickling your eye lashes

While I caress your soft cheeks

Push aside your stunning hair

And kiss you until the sun rises up

Above the grey, dusty mountains

Kiss you until I forget my very own name

But never yours

Not you, my Love,

My only

Tonight we shall soar past the sun

Skate on Saturn’s rings

And swim through the Milky Way

Oh, you are truly beautiful tonight

And always.

You are more than my world

You are my Universe and beyond

We shall walk on the moon

And never turn back

Tonight, you are all mine.

Kill Me

Red water washes over my coarse hands.

Not too long ago
I used to imagine something different
          from this

I don't know what
It just was different
Like-
Something I used to know
I was someone I used to know

No one can see through the facade
the mask covers up too much of the truth
that floats face down with the river
taking the slow bends
riding the rising tide

A hallow hatred fills my lungs
not my heart
as I breath in a dream
and out the denial of everything that once was

Consider me broken

But I won't leave you
Like how you left me

I'll walk away slowly
looking back each half step
hoping that you'll call out for a hand
someone to pull you back from the edge

Even if you don't call,
Remember that I'm here
when it seems that I'm not




You used to love me





Our own lies have torn us apart.

I lift my head and walk away
unsure of how to feel
of how to think

God, this was so easy

Where has all of our time gone?
Is this what the rest of our lives are going to be like?

Sociology is teaching me that we wait around until the next best thing comes around
It's human nature
But you are the very best
and I don't want to wait

I just want you

Fuck it,
I want to give up everything and lay with you
everyday for every hour
to watch the sun rise and then fall
to feel your chest rise and then fall
to simply coexist

rather than watch everyday slip by like sand through my fingers

I am so tired of watching this life go by alone
but it's something that you'll never know

You've never enjoyed reading poetry,
so I doubt that you'd ever find this
but if you do,
just know that I will wait forever if I have to

I'll always be waiting,
hoping,
for you

More to share

If You Forget Me

by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

I Carry Your Heart With Me by E.E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

That Which Never Dies

So... there I was doing my sociology homework, listening to pandora... when all of a sudden I heard a song that made me think about the very worst thing that I believe could happen to me.  This is the song:



and then I wrote this...
That Which Never Dies


The last rose falls from her hand onto his grave
~
It falls
For what seems
To be


Forever


She cannot pull herself away
She will not.


Not yet


She cannot pull her eyes away from the words:
Lift your eyes, do not cry.
You’ll awake one day and feel no sorrow.
Trust in me, my love, do not fret.
Even death cannot pull us apart.


The sun shining around her makes little a difference


She reads the words and yet,
she is frozen.


The fresh green grass of spring has rooted into her heels,


Her heart,
She can no longer feel.


The slight breeze that dances through the blooming pink Magnolias that line the cemetery


While her eyes close
And her lungs collapse
Tearing her down onto her knees




Lift your eyes, do not cry…
Even death cannot pull us apart.
Please, my Dearest,
Please do not cry.
Death cannot kill that which never dies

Great Poem to read and share =]

You Are Tired (I Think) by e.e. cummings

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

- e.e. cummings

Living is Believing

The brilliant gold sun shines down through the open canopy over head

Perhaps it’s how you look at me with your smiling eyes but I think that I’ve just fallen quite in love with you perhaps I am wrong though and we’re merely drifting together in a deep sleep that we may never awaken from  I do not know but I do like to imagine that you are my one and only

The one and only boy who cared to open the door to my heart and close it behind him, letting the blood rush through him then back out through my body as if no one had entered at all and rather he was there the whole time

Do not mind my talking to myself about you especially in my referencing you as a “boy” when now you are a man although I should tell you that we have grow a large bit since we met  since we first watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail and had thumb wars until our thumbs were red and your brother was too confused to stay in the room

Perhaps our time will never run out I do like to think so when I spend my free time alone in my head I do truly wish that you could join me some time Perhaps when our time runs out our minds will all conjoin and we’ll be able to explore each others’ thoughts dreams hopes wishes imaginations

Who knows

There is so much that we never will understand about why God made us and if he really is out there I do know that I have a hard time believing sometimes and that you find yourself lost at moments such as now but don’t give up my love you have to keep searching for the truth because of all the things that I don’t know I know that us meeting and falling in love is not a coincidence but an act of what should be 

Perhaps we are just repeats of people before us  Perhaps we have fallen in love hundreds of thousands of millions of times

Who knows

But what if someone messes up the cycle oh I do not know perhaps that is just impossible  Perhaps we are just stuck on this Earth until we’ve gotten in right  Oh that truly would be glorious now wouldn’t it

Me and you you and me exactly as we’re supposed to be in love and alive ALIVE can you believe it

I simply cannot

Perhaps we never will

I will not give up searching though

Not as long as I believe in you

Letters to a Ghost

Dear Ghost,

I have been sitting at this desk thinking of you for what seems to have been days.
You used to tell me that my habits were unhealthy
but here I am going about this all over again.

I won't lie,
I miss you.

Now our visits are refined to the short time that dreams provide
and you are not who you used to be.

You are a ghost
whose face is fading
whose voice has gone mute with each visit


Dear Ghost,

Not once did I think that when you left it would be forever.
We once were best friends
and now you are just a fond memory to look back on

I do not understand why I cannot move on.
I am not mourning yet I am not in denial...
There is a place in my heart that believes you are here

Dear Ghost,

The terms that you left on were terrible
                To say the least

You had been my best friend and my mentor,
I had once depended on you for so very much

When you left,
It felt like a hole had been shot straight into my heart.

I have always wondered if you felt the same,
Like you were given up on.

Perhaps I should have stayed
Instead of packing up and crying out for someone else to save me
But I was young and you had changed over your years of heartache.

Dear Ghost,

I pray for you whenever I can.
I believe that if you were meant for greatness
but never let greatness have a chance.

You were angry
I was impressionable.

Mom and Dad didn't understand how to save you...
        No one did.
You have been a ghost to me since long before you left.

I just liked to cling onto the belief that you would come back
but I now realize that I was wrong.
You really are never going to walk through the front door, worn with time and memories,
To have returned for good.

You are a ghost.
I cannot move on.

Dear Ghost,

Everyday grows longer than the last.
I have told Mom and Dad about the pains that I feel every night before I close my eyes,
How I believe there is a hole in my heart and that no matter how much I love him, the spot was meant for you.

I wish that I could take it back,
all the mean things that I said...
take it all back.

I miss you.

and love you.

Please, promise me that one day you will come home. Will you please?

With as much love as I have left in me,
Kirsten ~ your waiting sister.

P.S. If I am asleep when you come in, wake me up and let me know that you are home. Let me know that it is not yet another dream.

Growing Up

    -Lost in what seems to be a daydream, the world surrounding becomes a blurry haze

...

Flowers, the wild ones,
bloom as a rainbow of brilliant colors collecting in the sun
as the slight breeze tickles their leaves
Autumn is soon approaching

Come what may,
I welcome it warmly
though Winter, I ask kindly of you
to please, whatever it is that you do,
promise that you won't hurt my fellow trees too much
in your cold wrath of vengeance

Though the heavy blankets of soft snow
are beautiful for the time,
Sometimes I do think,
"Why must you punish us so?"
For all that we do is live and let live
You cannot expect us to lay down so easily
Only to die

                      -Awakening in the midst of the twilight hours, the crickets begin their orchestra with the birds as their flutes. 

I blink not once, but twice
taking in this break of reality

Then let my mind drift off once more...

The Endless Thoughts (casual sestina)

Time there is to find what I seek
Though when that will be
Oh, I cannot think
I can only wait and wonder
And dream of when it will come
While days and nights pass on much too slow

Reality unbecoming, my thoughts moving slow
and then slower as if playing hide and seek.
However, soon enough, to me they will come
Or at least, that is how it should be
I can only wait and wonder
In a poor attempt to think

Oh, if only I could think!
But under my own feet, I am slow
To hope and then to wonder
I am looking for something, to seek
the answer to the question "who should I be?"
I pray that one day, to me the answer will come.

Yet, who will come
when I can no longer think
I am who the world decided me to be
Developing in the midst of a summer so slow
My eyes cannot seek
the answers, though I wonder!

Wandering while I wonder
"Is this all there is to come?"
There are so many answers that I seek
yet, to be honest, I can only think
that with the days moving by so slow
that this is how it is meant to be.

If not, then there must be
another who would venture quietly to wonder
with me as we walk, ever so slow
hoping that there will be more to come
more for us to think
This cannot be all that we seek

Alas, a slow day is all that it will be
While we seek all that is but a wonder
as we think "is this all there is to come?"

To Summer Day

In these moments there is peace
-the kind of peace that you read about in stories,
            usually fairytales or something of that sort

The dark green blades of grass coupled with those of the dead
dancing in the heavy breeze
While the evergreens laugh with me
   -Waving back and forth

My good old Belle,
loyal as she is
lays sleepily beside me...
     the red bricks warming her belly
While her ears perk up to the
Wind chimes singing with the birds

I can only wait and wonder
how long this peace will last

Oh, to my summer days,
how much I shall soon
miss you

The Promise

I guess there's only one thing left to do when I'm not allowed to be with you, and that would be to pour my heart out like a vase with old water; the flowers left withering and crisp.  I cannot help but to love everything about you.  Whenever your hand, ever so softly, caresses my face, I could die in that moment and know that my life was complete.   Every time that your lips meet with mine, I know that we are meant to remain together until the end of our time.

And I promise you that I am, indeed, obsessed with you.  How could I not be? It has been four long years and, my Love, I have missed you so much.  The once a month visits were never enough and I know you say that you love me but, God, if there was some way to bring us closer together. 

You say that marriage is just a dream right now but you promise me it will happen soon.  And, you know what? I smile at the thought because I just want to know that I am bound to you in the Holiest way possible.  Call it whatever you would like, but I love you and I know that you love me too.  I know that when you hold me, you wish you didn't have to let go.  If time could stop forever, I would never let you go.  I would hold on stronger than vice grips or gorilla glue.  

Our parents don't know what to think. They accept it but don't want to jinx it, or at least that's what I like to tell myself.  Honestly, I have no idea.  You know me; I just like to daydream about everything.  You tell me that I can't always have my head in the clouds.  But where else is it supposed to be?  

My Love, I want you in the best way possible.  I want you to be mine.  I want to know that you are safe and that you are sound.  I will do anything to keep you comfortable and happy.  Your wish is my command.  If I held the traits, I could be your nymph. However, I don't think that my qualities   Trust me though, I will sure as Hell try.  

And what does that even mean?  Sure as Hell?  What is Hell?  Does it even exist? I don't even know if I exist.  Half the time I'm stuck in my own world wondering what is real and what isn't.  If you're not real, that would come as no surprise because you are better than all the dreams I ever did have.  

And... and-

Have you ever just though... what if things didn't happen this way?  We are so lucky.  Out of six and a half billion people and we happened to live down the street and fall in love.  We held each other together for four years and plan to keep it going.  I don't know about you, but I think that the odds that were against us were pretty high and we conquered.  

And if you want to leave me tomorrow, it won't come as a surprise.  You are just so perfect.  I cannot even begin to explain it.  How when I look at you, I have no idea what to do.  I am so in love with you.  

So...

If you ever forget me,

I won't blame you.

The Comforting Silence

From here and then farther
    into the night we shall go

A comforting silence while my chin rests on your chest
nose nuzzled into your side
and it feels quite alright

             Like someplace that I would like to...
     Oh, you know,
Stay for a while

As we watch the expanding universe veer off towards infinity
   and the gravitational pull of
Earth's atmosphere drags us in deeper
                                             and deeper
into itself

And yet,
I can't help but think
I wouldn't mind staying here for a while

Emily Dickinson... my lady

Oh the things that I could say about my dear friend Emily...  She brings me back all the way to my beginnings with writing.  I love this lady.  A close friend of mine's mom brought us to Emily's house when we were somewhere around ten years old.  Well, I found that her writing was inspiring and truly touched my heart and wanted to do the same.  I understand that with all things, practice makes perfect but I wanted to share with you a poem that really sparked the interest:

It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down; 
It was not night, for all the bells 
Put out their tongues, for noon.

It was not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl,
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.

And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,

As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And I was like midnight, some,

When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.

But most like chaos,--stopless, cool,
Without a chance or spar,--
Or even a report of land 

To justify despair.

Saying Sorry

The wind blows

and where it goes

-nobody knows

it just flows away

into the breaking horizon

as the sun rises up

and the brilliant shimmer of day

glitters across the calm water bay.

The birds sing

as the breeze dances on their wing

and maybe this time

the preying jester will fool his king

Into thinking

that on this first day of Spring

nothing will come of the man

who refuses to say sorry

that his guilt will not haunt him

That he will not have to

go out on a limb

for anyone

And when he realizes he is wrong

He will have claimed

“I knew it all along”

Though in his heart

he is deeply shamed

because it is so hard to say sorry

when, afterwords, all he can do

is worry

that sorry will not mean Enough.

Sweater Vests

Sweater-vests are so cool

I wear them all the time,

Yeah,

Even at school.

So, I’m a tool

What of it?

You think you’re so nifty

Well, you don’t look so thrifty

So kick me,

A little boy just screamed:

“Ew, he licked me! He licked me!”

Johnny, stop it

Don’t lick anyone

That’s rude

Calm it down a bit

Don’t intrude

on my bliss

Well hey now,

     Check out those wrists

But you can’t top this

Check it with a plane white tee

I’ll dress it up

with a button down

So will you PLEASE

                  Look at me!

No, I said

                     Look at me!

I’m like a four year old

learning my ABCs

I’m so proud

You could spot me in the crowd

But it’s only because

sweater vests are so cool

Don’t look at me like I’m a fool

It’s the fashion key

Just wait.

You’ll see

This has been my one and only attempt at slam poetry.  Having recently graduated from boarding school, I rocked the sweater vest on occasion and found them to be quite fashionable though my classmates would most likely disagree.  Anywho, give me some feedback or send in your own!  Slam poetry is serious fun.  Try it out!  =D

Carrie Rudzinkski's Dear Stranger

I wasn't familiar with slam poetry until last year when my friend introduced me.  This friend of mine has a great reading voice and wound up winning a poetry recitation contest with this poem.  If you like this style, you should check out other authors such as Taylor Mali or Gerald Jackson.  Try writing your own!  (I wrote one about sweater vests that I'll post soon)

Dear Stranger,
if you hear this and think it could be about you, please don’t stop listening.  I am homeward bound and if I have found you then it must have been meant to be.  Take each word that is more than silence and place it inside parentheses.
You’ll know what to do soon enough.

Dear Stranger,
I used to be told by the boy that was in love with me that I had the talent to keep him on the phone for three hours longer than he’d planned to be.  It wasn’t until I would hang up that I would realize it wasn’t talent, but complete fascination of the sounds of our voices intertwining between two states
and the belief that we were closer than we were that kept us up all night.
He and I were the kind of bad dreams worth having.  Unforgettable with the desire to find out how it would have ended if we hadn’t woken up when we did - I’m not saying I’m still in love with him.
I just don’t believe I would be able to stop myself if I found him all over again.

Dear Stranger,
we were pipelines fumbling chances of locked eyes six inches away from all that we could breathe and I knew I liked it too much because I couldn’t pull my face out of a smile for two weeks.  I keep seeing you in the faces of boys who look nothing like you when I’m riding subways, but it’s been worth it every time for the eighth of a second roller coaster ride my heart gets to go on.  It’s like a chance meeting with Disney World and I don’t even care that the palm trees are bare this time of year in Boston.  I keep having to remind myself that we’re not in love yet, but I’m pulling for the fact that it could, should, might, has to happen so you’ll know my promises are worn on my hands like lifelines.
Permanent.
Pulled out of the sky, I made you into a constellation that spelled “take” so that every girl that laughed at your jokes would know that you laughed at my jokes and I don’t want the best.  I just need what can pull me out of the worst so that we can exist as storm clouds on dry summer nights.
Furious.

Dear Stranger,
I’ve been crossing out the word “sorry” from every dictionary that I could find since the age of ten and I’m not about to stop because I wear my emotions on my sleeve.  Piece me together with patches of three hour timeouts and the three minutes that elapsed before we met.  I’ll keep breathing for you, even when you don’t want me to.

Dear Stranger,
Daylight.
We haven’t met yet.
When we do, our smiles will be so close we’ll believe they’re from the same light source.
And that’s the way I like it.

One of my favorite poems

=] I love this poem by Laura Jackson

Take hands.
There is no love now.
But there are hands.
There is no joining now,
But a joining has been
Of the fastening of fingers
And their opening.
More than the clasp even, the kiss
Speaks loneliness,
How we dwell apart
And how love triumphs in this.

There's some pretty cool slam poetry that I'm really into as well.  I'll post some of that soon.  Share some of what you're into! =D

Love and Freindship [sic]

Patiently… Patiently I sit. 

You chest rises, then falls.  Behind your eyelids, your eyes dance as if lost in some strange world.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking don’t let me wake up.  Please, don’t let me out of this world.  And I won’t blame you for the simple fact that I can’t.  I can’t gather my wits enough to figure out why even the most terrifying dream beats this sad reality.  If it weren’t for you, I would sleep forever.   

We should sleep forever.

I wish as your dreams begin to fade.

Scary Story (it's a work in progress and lacks a title)

A heavy thump lands on the thick wooden door. I remain silent, hiding my presence. Another loud thump. The ancient metal doorknob rattles. Chills run down my spine. An eery something floats past the curtained windows. The light darts from the shadow, afraid to be consumed in its darkness.

Just last week old Henry died. Since then, things around here haven't been quite right. A silence fell over the small town; a stillness shadowing every hope. Children cry out in the middle of the night, screaming “There's something staring in through my window!” Bright eyes looking in. Their parents run in but then stand frozen in fear, unable to tell them “It's all just a dream.”

Town Sheriff Damien Alexander told Mayor Lark to hold a meeting out on the green in front of the Mayor's office. The Sheriff looked down onto his scared community and said, “We are approaching our darkest hour. There is something in this town that can only be explained as evil. You've all seen it, heard your children cry, and felt as it passed through you, darkening your every thought. It has tormented us. Threatened us-”

A shriek lit through the air.

All the eyes of the town turned quickly to the tall white Church standing on the edge of the green, directly across from the Mayor's office. A black shadow, or creature, neither human, nor natural, shining eyes peering back out at the crowd, turned and glided into the church. Right through the closed and locked doors.

The town waited, in both fear and silence, and watched.

Old Henry was a quiet man. A gentle, quiet man. He kept to himself in his well-kept cabin that stood beside the Church. Sometimes he would wander across the green singing to himself as the seasonal breeze would wisp his thin, grey hair about. Every Sunday, he could be spotted at Church. He would sit right in front. He could sing every hymn, recite any prayer. He knew everyone in the town and knew every stranger.

On his porch, he would sit every night. With a wood carved pipe in one hand, and a thick leather bound book in the other, he would look out into our town as if he were expecting Death to walk up the sturdy steps to his home and greet him and take him into the beyond.

~

The curtains over the windows breathe in and out. The walls bend in towards the room as unnatural footsteps cross the room. I hold my breath, or rather, I cannot breathe. Fear flows through my body. Boots covered in fresh muck and Earth pass by me, so close that I could reach out and touch them. He stops suddenly.

The rain and wind outside pick up with a terrifying force.

A deep laugh fills the hallow room. Then silence. Nothing. It is as if he vanished into thin air.

Something grabs on to my foot.

~

Discovered by Town Sheriff Damien Alexander on the date of March 25, 1999

Dear Mary Beth

I can feel the darkness creeping in. I can feel it taking over. Consuming my being. It eats away at my soul. Tears angrily and ferociously at my heart. My head. Throbs with a pain so sharp that I cannot hear. I cannot think. I am losing myself to the monster dwelling in the darkest corners of my mind. The untamed beast that scratched and howled, that tore away the hope in my mind.

It has been five days. Five days, I think. I hope. No longer can I feel my breaths circulate down through my lungs. I can only think of the demons that take me over .Take control. Squirming through my once lucid thoughts.

The darkness envelopes around me. Slowly, my mind turns. Ripping my every thought apart and dissecting it into a million misshapen pieces. I am lost.

I am losing the battle and cannot find the strength to continue onward. I cannot find the hope to see the light. I cannot even imagine light. I can only accept this darkness as a sign that I may never escape.

Time is dwindling. Moments forgotten because the oxygen in my lungs cannot find its way to my brain. Because my mind is lost in this angry sea of black and deeper black. Sludge and slime. I am drowning and I don’t even have the courage

to save myself.

Sincerely yours,

Nathaniel Hawkinz

~

Nathaniel Hawkinz was a cheerful man. He had a lovely wife, Mary Beth whom cared deeply for him. When he disappeared, she searched for days. The town warned her against it. If he was the one possessed by whatever darkness had fallen across the town, it was best for her to keep away. It would only hurt her more. 
To be continued.... 

Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary AmericansThe Dark Sacrament: True Stories of Modern-Day Demon Possession and Exorcism

Happy Father's Day

I was thinking of the perfect present... something that spoke for the ages, while listened for the youth. Something that said “Look through me to see the bigger picture,” rather than “Look at me and take me for what I am.” Something selfless but told your story. I was looking for you.

I gathered my sense, or at least all that was left. Carefully, I poured it into my silk pouch and tied it tight. Letting it fall deep into my pocket, I went out in search of you.

The journey was long, hard, and lonesome. Many a times, I fell and could not find the strength to sit back up for what seemed to be all too long. I just sat and listened, hoping that in the silence, I would hear you. The nothingness echoed through the air as I waited in still madness, speaking only to myself.

Sometimes I would sing, hoping my song would bring you home, whispering the words:

Silent as the dreaming day

restless as the summer's breeze

Listen to me,

and soon you'll be home

But it failed each time while I sat and thought of the reasons why. Why are we down to this? This comforting silence and unknown questions answered by the turn towards the sun. I worry sometimes that I'll never find you at this rate.

As the Summer turned to Fall, and the Fall into Winter, the cold wind prevailed on the frozen Earth. I pulled my covers tight each night, as I thought of where you could be . I mapped out every corner of everywhere, or so it seemed. But whenever I thought I had you, you slipped away into infinity.

One night I prayed. Or attempted at the very least. Down on my knees, I pulled out my silk pouch, containing only the last few bits of that sense I once had. As I rubbed it warm, in between my hands, I thought for centuries. I thought of all the places.

At last, I walked onto the iced over lake and cried out to you. I yelled “Father! Why have you left me here so alone? No longer can I do this on my own! Come back to me Father, I am too young to sit on this throne!”

And like that, you were there. A smile crossed your face as your eyes were all aglow. I reached my hand out for yours and for that moment, we were infinite. As if in that moment, our lives were forever; we were immortal. You hugged me tight and you said, “Do not fear, I am always here.” Then you pulled my hand to your heart and asked “What is it that you feel?”

That was when I realized that

Each moment I searched, you sat and watched from afar. Never was I so alone, because as your heart beats, as will mine. Never for a moment will their rhythms beat out of time.

So there I sat, out on the frozen lake. Time standing still, I thought. I thought and thought about what had taken me this far. Was it the wind? Or curiosity? Or a hope that in my search for you, I might find myself? I do not know, but I know it wasn't a journey traveled alone. As I turned back, I knew I wasn't on my own.  

To Fathers

Dear Dad,

Just in case you ever wonder,

I’m doing alright.

My grades are decent,

   Sean is good,

and hockey is hockey. You know how that goes.

        Well,

I still don’t like that singing teacher. But don’t get the wrong impression.

I’m being good. Quiet. I swear, I don’t say a word unless she speaks to me.

I decided that singing like a man is the only way to please her and it seems to so far.

You know,

it’s weird, Dad.

This life,

this everything.

Sometimes I think it’s great. Everything is just working itself out. But this time, I don’t know.

I will never truly know.

But what if there is more to all of this?

What if I make the wrong choice,

         or fail?

Or fall and can’t find the will to get back up...

Will you lend me your hand?

You once made a promise to me that you would

saying that you will

                       always love me.

                       always hug me.

                       always be on my side.

And you wanted me to know that…

just in case I ever wonder.

I do wonder sometimes,

as I stare out into the depths of space,

       if you mean it.

If you mean each and every word

that you have promised me.

How do you know that you will always be by my side?

What if the distance is too great and I somehow lose touch? What then, will we do? There are so many questions, Dad.

So many that you seem to know the answers to.

And how can you be so sure?

Why can you see this great destiny while all I see is the uncertainty between my shifting toes?

And just in case you ever wonder, I never go a day without you here. Each choice, memory, and each run, you are there. Do you remember... do you remember my first cross country race? I ran so hard but wore myself out by the second lap and yet, you ran next to me the whole time. You told me I could do it. And I did. Look at me now, Dad. Look at how fast I am. How smart, tall, strong, and how much like you I am. And you told me to stand by my convictions and I’m doing just that. 

You told me that I’m a writer and I could write the world into a better place. Maybe that’s what I’ll do. If you believe it, maybe I can.

And just in case you have ever wondered, Dad,

I will always love you.

Love,

Boo

Day Dreams in India

All that I want is to love you

            to hold your hand
    Hear your voice
                       Just know that you're thinking of me
                   or you miss me
But I want you to be happy
           so I can't be selfish

Still,
            I can only wish
            that when my eyes lock onto the North Star
             You know to look to the sky
and our minds won't meet
                   But hey,
              it's worth a try

Because I want to
and I know you do too

Like when we laid on our backs
           out on my trampoline
while the sun shined brilliantly down on us
           and I asked you:
What do you like the most about love?

You said it was the intimacy
                         Knowing that you can always count on me
                          that we can do anything
and how we laugh and joke
         how you tease me
holding me down until our lips meet
                      curl up into a smile
                             then kiss

And I can only think
             these are the moments
             that we'll truly miss