“Just Perfect”.

Not a poem, but a story, #2 in the short line of them. The repetition is not meant to be lyrics, or lines of poetic wit — it’s something I wrote, something extra hard for me, and I wanted to share.

This one’s it, folks.

  “Just Perfect”

You are perfect
God you seem so perfect
You are perfect for me. 

We were a match made with wit and games,
an erotic display of knowledge
with more than a bit of struggle for power.
And in the end
you made love to college, and you fell for her,
and I stay here in my lonely skin.

You were perfect
God you seemed so perfect
I was reluctant to see.
– – –

You are perfect
God you seem so perfect
You are perfect for me. 

I never thought I’d be involved
with such an exotic sense of humor.
Music connected us across oceans,
and your smile kept us awake.
And in the end
you wanted to wait,
and I stay here in my lonely skin.

You were perfect
God you seemed so perfect
I was reluctant to see.
– – –

You are perfect
God you seem so perfect
You are perfect for me. 

You claimed the first brush of my lips
and to you I held the fastest.
Words were said, and things exchanged,
and I let myself believe it.
And in the end
there were things you couldn’t handle,
distance and bridges so far,
and so I stay here in my lonely skin. 

You were perfect
God you seemed so perfect
I was reluctant to see.
– – –

Fin.

An Ode to a Peach

 

The pleasure lies no on its layered surface, not on the smooth, wrinkled face, but beneath.

Read between the colors of bright red, corals of pink and light. Escape through its mantle and saturate yourself with the glistening red, ruby feeling. Bursting texture. Hope of summer with every smell.

Feel the weight of it in your palm.

As warm as blushed skin set aflame, and as delicate too, take care not to bruise or treat it badly. Good southern gentleman, take care. Surrending its supple flavour to you with every taste, its aroma through each inhale. Exhale. It is precious.

Take and catch your breath slowly, so as not to startle her, but hold steadfast, your lips enamored to do their bidden work.

Now bite.

rawr.
It’s me again! : ) I’m back to my writing, inspired by a Fanfiction, no less, to start keeping a journal. If I want to write, to draw, compose, whatever (hell, I can doodle, it’s mine), I will. Sometimes I’ll share the things out of there, like this little story/poem/ode, and other times I won’t. It’s very private very…personal.

WordPress, my life is about to get very, very hectic. I can feel it — the preverbial STORM on the horizon, brewing and churning, and within its clutches: lightning! thunder! rekindling? Oh, but there’s a chance.

I know that I still talk in circles, but that is necessary these days more than ever, so it simply can’t be helped.

I will be working until this Sunday, then I have three days off, but if you think that means I’ll have more of a chance to post, say, here, you are very mistaken. My mother has taken it upon herself to keep constant tabs on me next week, the week of my eighteenth birthday. Now I’ve promised her the day, but the week? The way we fight and argue, I’m doubting that’ll turn out very good for either one of us. And there is a strong chance of my ex-love-interest visiting around the mid-week, so things are bound to get interesting with him meeting the family for the first time. My current love-interest, aw hell, my current love,  🙂 was trusted to meet the folks after weeks, whereas I’ve known David for over a year now and he’s only getting the chance to meet mom this week. Goes to show the difference between them I guess. I’m not so sure this introduction will go as smoothly as the last, but I can only cross my fingers and toes and pray that there is no fallout concerning the people I care about.

I have just come in from looking at the crescent red (orangish, I guess) moon, the closest-planet-to-us-right-now Mars, and from watching the meteor shower from Comet P-whathitzface passing too close to the Earth. I used the ancient telescope given to me by a creepy teenage family friend, and studied for about a half hour until the mosquitoes drove me under cover.

Peach had a photoshoot for this poetic addition. So here are some of the outtakes:

Love me, (Lie to Me – poem)

Lie to me, my sweet,
lie and make me believe
so that I might accept these
delusions of grandeur
and no longer envy
those of sane mind and conscience.

Lie to me, my love,
and promise that you’ll stay here
by my side
until the last shade of white
leaves my skin,
and my thoughts lose their sense.

Lie to me, oh dear,
the dark is coming fast.
It arrives now
to cut the tendons,
the ties,
that bind me to this world
and you.

So lie to me, my sweet,
to keep me unaware.
Tell me of great cities,
brilliant men,
and delicate pretties.
Do this deed for me,
so I can rest with peace
and comfort,
sure that my life has been
so fulfilled with wonder.

I wrote this poem some time last year, while I was still in a very negative mindframe. I really did think that I could never have a man care for me truly, and felt that lies would be necessary to sustain such a fake relationship. I’m not so negative anymore — people have come into my life and changed me for the better.

That is not to say that I still don’t have things I need to work on. Like my habit of overthinking everything. It should be so easy just to let everything go and enjoy what makes me happy, and ignore the things that try and depress me. I have to learn that nothing and no one is perfect, no one can read my mind even if they know me really well. So I have to suck it up and just let the things that bother me roll off my back.

One thing I’ve taken to lately has been recounting memories. There are little details one observes in the heat of a moment, and they don’t realize how memorable those details become until later. As a writer, editer, and a dreamer 😉, my imagination is vast, and I’m still young so my memory’s pretty sharp. I remember colors and images, smells, words, whispers, the feeling of touch.. etc. Emotions are triggered — do you cry or bust out laughing, and I mean the har,har,har laughing, from just a memory?

I still think the poem is beautiful — I don’t remember what inspired me to write it, but I assume I was in one of those moods where I just feel like I need to get something out. When I feel like this I usually either write or post here (which is close to the same thing, an expression).

Oh, and as a note, the Staff at poem.org helped me perfect this poem with a few suggestions in word changes and line distribution. The words and the feelings are mine, as is the idea, but they helped me perfect my product.

Today I’ve been in a wonderful mood — I bet it’s that new policy of just letting things go that’s making me feel better. That, and I’ve been getting alot more sleep lately. I now sleep with a box fan three feet from my face, all the lights off and complete silence. Mmm.. speaking of sleep. It may only be 10:30, and I may have slept in once I got home from work, but I did get up at 4:22 this morning, so I think I’ll be heading to bed soon.

I have plans to go see my cousin Chris sometime this week, probably Thursday — and the fact that he lives close to Devin’s house is just a plus.. =) I’m not positive that I’ll be able to find a ride there and back, but I’ll be damned if I won’t try. It’s been at least a year since I saw Chris.

Night, loves! I’m going to try to go make my eyes numb watching Criminal Minds and reading “Dead in the Family” – by Charlaine Harris.

{You are invited…}

I totally feel like a girl now —–which I guess is a good thing, considering I am one —–; I have my nails painted red, my dress all hemmed and ready to wear, my hair layered and straightened, my shoes picked out, and my eyebrows waxed. All of this for my party tomorrow night, my black&white semi-formal birthday party that I’ve wanted to have since I was eight.

It really is going to be beautiful, weather permitting. All you wordpress readers will hear a very sad tale if it does not permit. But I’m going to think positive. Please, oh please, rain, hold out for two and a half hours Friday Night, August 14th.

Entertainment was the hardest thing I had to think up, but my friends really make their own entertainment. We amuse ourselves, I guess. Plus, I have Guitar Hero III that I’m going to turn on, and I’ll have a bonfire out in the backyard — not to mention food, music, and drinks. (Strictly non-alcoholic). So we should be good. I’m so afraid that people will show up and go “err…so this is it, huh?” 🙂

My brother is going to be there, and he is witty and a tad charming (at least with my female friends), as will be my sister Mystie, her husband, and my nephew. That is the only family, besides the parentals, allowed. Too many dysfunctions, disorders, and attitudes flying around this house otherwise. I love them, but my family will never be invited to another party where they might integrate with my friends. It just isn’t a good idea.

The back porch rails will be wrapped with gold linen, with a string of small lights on top of that. The back pato tables will have their umbrellas removed and put in storage, and will be covered with a delicate black tablecloth, and red plates, cups, napkins, and forks. The other table will just be one to sit at. I’ll have the drinks set up inside, the food outside, and the music blaring from my back porch’s speaker. I picked 40 songs (on two mix CDs) that I think everyone will agree on. We aren’t the pickiest crew, my friends and I, and alot of them are songs you can either sing, dance, or laugh at, so WE’RE GOOD. :)!

I am so excited/nervous for this, because it’ll be my first time playing host to this many people. Seventeen have RSVP’d, and I’m expecting at least thirteen of them to show up. It doesn’t sound like much in writing, but in person…that is alot of people counting on you to show them a good time. That sounded weird..but oh well.

So wish me and my party-go’ers luck! I really want it to be positive, with no redneck, dysfunctional fights, problems, or weather conditions. God willing.

“I Don’t Belong Here”

Very self-explanatory.

I don’t belong here.
Maybe on some mountaintop,
Maybe in the cool, green shade,
Maybe where the sand never stops,
but I don’t belong here.

I don’t belong here.
Maybe at a pub in Belguim,
Maybe near a cricket’s chirp,
Maybe in some Mayan kingdom,
but I don’t belong here.

I don’t belong here.
Maybe far from cursing shouts,
Maybe with hot cooked meals,
Maybe near fresh bamboo sprouts,
but I don’t belong here.

No, definitely not here.

Absence

Sorry for the sorta long absence, you guys — but I was at my aunt’s/grandmother’s for the past five days without computer or internet. So sorry.

But I have good news? 😀

I wrote three poems (on paper o_O) down while I was gone, that I’d like to share with you all, if you’d let me. The first is titled “I Will”:

For you
I would save the world,
I would drink the ocean,
I would walk thru flames.

For you
I would give up anything,
I would give into chaos,
I would surrender my life.

For you
are my world,
are my strength,
are my smile.

For you
are my muse,
are my love,
are my only adoration.

Now this poem, unlike many of the others I’ve given you, is not about anyone particularly. Yes, it’s a “love poem”, but just an example of one, not one of my many affectionate messages. This was simply wrote for my enjoyment, like “Sleep, my Beloved” was.
This next one is called “Gravitation”. No, I’m not writing Sci-Fi poetry yet 😉 It is another sort of gravitation:

I shall
not help it.
Whether or not it is
fair and true
for me to love you,
I can find not one snap
of doubt in my mind.

My blues
lock to you,
skimming past your face,
out of place
are the feelings
I have for you too.

As you skim this room,
you flash your smile.
I sit for a while,
envy-ridden,
watching the fine
girl sip my wine
by your side.

That beautiful side
I used to rest near,
to tickle your neck–
and breathe in your ear,
now has hanging upon it
a siren so clear-ly
weaving her song
to pull you away.

As the one before it, “Gravitation” is written for pleasure, not message. It’s almost a story idea, for me, but one that has been written since the dawning of Shakespeare’s Ro & Ju, and I do not wish to write it again. A simple poem did it for me, in meaning, in purpose.
This last one is much different in tone than the last two; it’s called “My Sweet Lies”. This poem is both desperate and rushed, moreso than the last, because it may be spoken by someone on their death bed:

Lie to me, my sweet,
lie and make me believe
so that I might accept these
delusions of grandeur
and no longer envy
those of sane mind and conscious.

Lie to me, my love,
and promise that you’ll stay here
by my side
until the last shade of white
leave my skin,
 and my thoughts lose their sense.

Lie to me, oh dear,
the dark is coming fast.
It has arrived now
to cut the tendons,
the ties,
that bind me to this world
and you.

So lie to me, my sweet,
to keep me unaware.
Tell me of great cities,
brilliant men,
and delicate pretties.
Do this deed for me,
so I can rest with peace
and comfort,
sure that my life has been
so fulfilled with wonder.

I have news & an addiction. :P

My heart has stopped aching;
my mind is beginning to spin and whir with new ideas and confidences;
I have new outlets to express my anger and my kindness,
so maybe I will not feel as alone this year coming;
and the last flickering flame that I held for any boy is,
alas, at last,
dying out.

-cheers- To new beginnings?
No, this is no poem — it wouldn’t be up to my standards 😉 — those are just a few key points that I’m grasping as I head into this 2009-2010 school year. I have a little over 3 weeks before I start school again, and I couldn’t be happier to do so. I love summer because it helps you identify with yourself and your friends more than you are able to during the fall and spring times; if that makes any sense at all. When you are by yourself for so long, the time spent makes you look at every crevice of yourself; and when you aren’t required to see all of your friends every week, the specific acquaintenances you do seek out over the summer must mean more to you (consciously or subconsciously) than others.

Some goals of mine, like finishing up ‘Jasper’ or getting a great deal more writing done on ‘Base’, were not kept. It was not partially my fault: the laptop that I work on both stories on cut out on me, and I still have to bring it to a family friend to get it fixed. But we don’t have the money right now (financial instability), so I’m stuck with writing everything I must on pen and paper, unless I can get ahold of my mother’s laptop (which I’m on now).

But other goals that I didn’t know were going to be given to me did emerge: Candy, my personal trainer, for instance. She is helpling me a great deal to see the true person under this physical image. She’s helping me to stop giving myself excuses for the wrongdoings I’ve done in the past, and to, instead, look to the future and set accomplishable goals for myself. 2008-New Years, as my resolution I promised myself that I would stop caring what other people thought of my outside, and love who I was on the inside. And truthfully, there were some depressing days where I wasn’t sure if I could keep that promise or not, but I am proud to say that I am still standing strong on caring only about my opinion, and not of those judgementals around me. That I am happy about.

Another surprising twist that my mind had in store for me this summer was writing poetry. I was never too big-a fan of poetry in the past — sure, who doesn’t like some Shakespeare; but the complicated stuff, the poems that are 3945948059 pages long and spoken with “thees, thous, and doths” always irritated me.
But now it is as if my appetite for poetry is insatiable. I like writing it and reading over what I’ve written — heck, I even like editing it. && that’s a big difference from when I’m writing on my narratives, because I loathe editing those. It takes too long, and I always have writer’s block for a few days after I edit a long chapter.

But editing, writing, and understanding poetry is effortless.

ALSO I’ve come to a decision! In college next year, and for hopefully the next four years (after my Snr. year of course) I will be double-majoring in Psychology and English. My minor is going to be Zoology, only because the #1 college of my choice does not offer Zoology as a major.

I filled out my first application form this morning, for Moorhead-Fargo Minnesota, “MNU”. 😀

It is my top school.

My other choices: Twin Cities, MN (Minnesota State College); Seattle, WA [state] (University of Washington); and Billings, MT (University of Montana: Wildlife Conservatory & Forestry).

But Minnesota really sounds like the right place for me. I talked to a current student there (over the phone), and I was asking her all sorts of questions like campus size, people diversity, club diversity, & whether or not they have a Greek system. Because the Greek system fascinates me — I’m not sure yet if I’d like to pledge a sorority or not  (maybe too intense and “judgy” for my taste) — but the whole culture satisfies the inner-psychologist in me. =)

As a sidenote, to all my procrastination-loving peeps: http://omgpop.com I’m addicted to Balloono.