Distractions

I can hear them

Right outside my window

Pumping the gas

Spinning their wheels

Digging themselves deeper into the snow

Rhythmic ignorance

The engine roars, "Cease!"

The Comforts of Home

There was supposed to be a snow storm

And for sure babe, it's snowing

A thin dusting from heaven's floorboards

Turns to crunching feathers under my tumble

Dear Universe,

Today

Another day checked off

On the calendar of my residence

In this body

One day less

One breath closer

To my inevitable departure

Is life a soft lit candle, huffed out too soon

And never revived?

Just incase it isn't, I've composed a few requests.

Assuming I was not horribly wrong about the Bible and get sent strait to hell with all the other spit fire, wild child sinners

I'd like to be reincarnated as a flower

A poppy, perhaps

Wild colors seem to suit me

Delicate, wrinkled, red and orange

Or maybe I could be a tree

A mighty tower

Cracking bark

Flittering foliage

I'd never want to be a Planaria

High school biology is not for me

But I could be a mud puddle in the early spring

Or even a hefty, beast of Alaska

A moose among moose, lumbering in the tundra

Nibbling on greens all day

But, perhaps, I think I might like to be

An abandoned ship in the Bermuda triangle

Stormy seas would toss me

On calm water I would float

And maybe someday I'd slip underneath the blanket of water

And see the extraordinary on the journey downwards. 

Older Stuff

I finally brought home my english notebook from first semester and I found a few things in it that are worth sharing. Here they are, in chronological order.

[author's note, mopey moods don't always make for great poetry]

Are you ever lonely, just like I am, all the time?

Is your mind bursting with questions, just like mine?

Do I make you feel alive, just like you make me feel?

Do you long for hours spent wandering aimlessly on sidewalks, like I do?

I wrote the one below in study hall one time, I was sitting close to Dylan and I wanted to meet him, so I thought about the creepiest way possible. I wrote this poem and then I emailed it to him :]

Freckles. Splatters across him arms and face, neck and hands

Angel kisses? 

If so, he must have been popular with those winged watchers long before conception.

Fingers hesitantly dragging across his keyboard, diligently studying.

Eyeglasses clinging softly to pale skin behind his ears

Chocolate brown hair curls up from the nape of his neck, 

Brushing against a solar system of freckles.

Sitting in a chair, too blue

In and classroom, too quiet

In and world, too constraining

I bet he wants to scream.

This next thing is just an excerpt of an attempt of escaping my complete boredom during study hall. 

The air we breath, the air we breath. Poisoned or enhanced? Curses and pollution? Jesus, why do you always need a prompt when you're not depressed or something? Well, might as well keep writing, you know, it makes you look like you are doing something. Conferences, eh?

Nom, 

And this last one is from the night I had my first pomegranate.

Slicing nicely, juices drip

Staining the counter, the cloth

Trails creeping through pomegranate flesh

Delicate jewels of puckering flavor

I dig with fingertips, patiently extracting

The fruit.

It falls into the bowl,

Children to their bed, resigning after a day of mischief. 

Stifled

It doesn't have to be:

streaking meteors

blaring radios

gushing floods

blinding neon colors

thundering storms

spritzing musky perfume

machine gun rattle. 

It can be:

embers glowing

ice cracking

dew dropping

the pastel sun rising

a spring breeze flowing

the smell of fresh cut grass, floating 

soft suffocation. 

Aspirations

You're with me always

Though, I not with you

And sometimes that knowledge is comforting

And sometimes it stings

And sometimes I think that someday I could be the feathers in a pillow or the clacking in a tap dancer's shoe.  

Void

of any reason, but here I am avoiding homework ... so this is what I found