But not least

July 5, 2009 at 6:37 pm (Poems)

There’s something in the way you walk, it tells tales.
Of forgotten smiles, of anger and heartfelt angst.
All the history, all the scars, tell me if you will,
if love has graced your life.

Tell me because I don’t know,
If Love transcends everything else.
If Love would.

Lest I fall, upon my own inaccurate expectations.
Lest I face disappointment of the highest level.
Lest I miss, you.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Ramblings

July 3, 2009 at 2:03 am (Thoughts/ Musings)

A day in the life of. That’s what they’re calling it these days, when you tell someone about your day, implying that it conveniently describes every other day.

Maybe it does.

Before science intervened, there were rumors going around that goldfish only retained 10 seconds of their memory. If a goldfish was happy, it would think it has been happy it’s entire life. Same goes for if it were sad, hungry or just lost.

Do fish think about where they swim or do they just go wherever. Why does everything have to be a destination? Spare me from the saying ” It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” . We all know that’s usually not true.

How many people actually figure out the true meaning behind it? And even if they do, it’s still, nonetheless, an individual interpretation.

It’s so ironic. We claim to be unique beings yet we refer to quotes by people of the past. “ If someone already said it best, why not just use it.

But it’s not about it being said best, is it? It’s about you realizing the sense behind it and making a decision whether or not to put that in your own philosophy. I’m sorry, am I losing you here? I always seem to.

It’s all about running away. Running from something, rather than to something.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Protected: Rounds

July 3, 2009 at 1:19 am (Uncategorized)

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:


Permalink Enter your password to view comments

Old maps, new directions.

July 2, 2009 at 1:08 am (Poems, Thoughts/ Musings, journal)

Pack these bags, no, we’re not leaving.
The bags are. Throw these burdens,
remove the locks and unlock these shackles.
I’m with you now.

We’re going somewhere, and for the first time,
it’s not running away. It’s not leaving. We’re going.
A first time for everything, they always say.
It could only be you.

I’ll need new bags. Empty ones, ready to be filled.
New burdens and also, of course, a new co-writer.
You didn’t think you were just a new chapter, did you?

You’re not going anywhere, you’re writing my life together with me.
Active participation, so to speak. Let’s not waste time.
You’ve go your pony and I’ve got you, let’s go.

Journal you, journal me, let’s never stop writing.
You’re with me now.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Quit

June 30, 2009 at 3:30 am (Stories)

Black and white.

Night fell upon the town of Keraih, and the streets came to life with people and vehicles. It’s one of those days, the usual. Only in this town, people make their living at night. Night is day and day is night. The sun is much dreaded.

-

Johnny. Seventeen and angst filled, like all the other teenagers.

-

Johnny. If you won’t admit you punched Carlson, I’ll have to give you twice as much detention. I don’t think you parents would like that, even if you’re fine with it.

Of course I’m fine with it. I love detention. Gives me time to think.

Mr Roberts paused and took a deep breath.

I don’t even know when you’re sarcastic, Johnny. I’ll give you two days to think about it. “

A big wide grin across his face,  ” Sure Mr Roberts. I’d be happy to.

That was definitely sarcasm, Mr Roberts thought to himself.

-

Stacy, sixteen and feisty like a high school reject would be.

-

No Jimmy, I’m not going to prom with you. I don’t do prom, get it?

But I –

Save it. Scram. Get out of my face, acne boy.

Stacy gave the disappointed boy a shove. His books fell to the ground like autumn leaves. Poor kid, but Stacy didn’t care. Not for him, or prom, or school. All she was thinking about was when the next Death Cab performance would be.

-

Valerie, sixteen, prom queen I-get-what-i-want types.

-

No Mom. I spent the fourty dollars on the party props, not alcohol or cigarettes. I don’t do those.

She gave a seemingly angelic smile, oh those puppy dog eyes never fail to melt the heart of old Mrs Carter. Scheming Stacy.

Okay. I’ll give it to you first thing in the morning. I have to do some work now, if you’d just –

I want it now. Now, Mom, now. You’d forget to give it to me in the morning.

” Okay hush. Here. “

Slight hesitation. Minor actually. She relented, once again.

-

Just one of those days.

Permalink Leave a Comment

A reason

June 29, 2009 at 10:56 pm (Poems)

Keys to that one door, I’ve been waiting a long time,
Now I’ve found that door, and the right key, a perfect fit;

Twist and turn, let me in, fate, let me,
It’s not opening, why? Do tell.
These carvings, creative vandals, is there a story?

Clueless, impatient. Yet I hesitate for a while,
I can see you, can you hear me. I cry out to you.

Don’t forget me, no, not before midnight,
Don’t let me fade away, don’t let this go to waste,
I’ll stand by the door, I’ll keep the bells ringing.

Is that you calling, or is that the angels singing,
Come for me now, comfort me.

Permalink Leave a Comment

The faith, the faith.

June 27, 2009 at 10:41 am (Stories, Thoughts/ Musings, journal)

Fake eyelashes ” , pretty eyes said.  Modest.        Say you’ll stay.

Need that assurance before midnight, I do.

Watch me watch you, remember, you’d miss me missing you. Confidence in all the wrong places, head and heart, logic and emotion.

Torn apart.

Oh but it’s irony. Classic ‘ cry wolf ‘ . I should have figured. Truth I was telling, love I kept waiting. Was I hesistant, earlier? Was I?

Was it that once again I pictured myself having the things I value the most taken right from my hands. To have, only to lose. I could’t.

Hurtful to watch, to say the least.

As it appears, first time for everything. Only maybe I’ve ever cried for, and about a girl, but this feels different, I’m sure you’d come to know. Though not soon, I hope.

With all that’s said and done, and after they’ve finally had their fun. The puppet strings loosen.

Let’s get out of here. Take me away.

Fault me, I came knowing. I should have prepared myself better. Braced myself. Only it takes a while to build up that wall once you’ve taken it down.

Lights Flickering. flame dwindling. Index, doodling. Dreaming, yes? No?

Fleeting, do I ask?

I ask.

Now, about that wall..

Permalink Leave a Comment

As we know

June 26, 2009 at 7:10 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , )

Michael jackson. R.I.P.

Permalink Leave a Comment

You stole me.

June 24, 2009 at 3:04 am (Poems)

Lay your burdens, I’ll take them,
let’s stop time like you say;

I can see it now, shining brightly,
capture this moment, seal the deal,
I’ll pop the question, grant me the pleasure,
grace me with your one-word answer.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Turning tides

June 23, 2009 at 9:06 pm (Thoughts/ Musings, journal)

As it is, we naturally resist change. We struggle, but always, without fail, embrace it.

The tides will change, and when it does, a new chapter begins. Flip that page. Every single day we deal with changes, but how often do we take the time to actually accept them. As said before, a clear cut difference between knowing and understanding.

As we brace ourselves for this new chapter, let’s not forget to take a breather. We are always reminded to catch our breath once again, before someone, or something takes it away.

And it will happen, it’s inevitable. It’s life.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Correct me.

June 22, 2009 at 6:51 pm (Thoughts/ Musings, Uncategorized)

If we could dream life away. What joy.

Wait, would you rather sleep life away, or dream life away? I don’t know. Tough choice.

Wait, no, this isn’t right. Why spend your whole life contemplating life.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Covered eyes

June 21, 2009 at 11:42 am (Thoughts/ Musings)

As it turns out, you were right. The ugly little truth is that you think you don’t deserve better, but you do. Oh poor you, so deceived.

Second chances do come by, if only you’d try.

Sometimes you let go, sometimes you hold on. You cling on to everything that gave you meaning, ironically, because it gives you purpose.

Did I give too much? ”   No, silly one.  Never  too much.

Are you leaving, or waiting for a chance to?  I see your packed bags sitting on the front porch every morning.

Sail away, far away. I think it’s finally time to go home, but you don’t think so. You’re in denial, and I’m still waiting for that call.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Still can’t find that song.

June 19, 2009 at 1:27 am (journal)

Of all the bad things i’ve done. This must be what they were always trying to warn me about. A thing called ‘karma’. They say when it hits you, ‘you won’t know what hit you‘.

It’s not true. You feel it. Running through your veins. Piercing through your heart. Every inch of skin, of flesh, of feeling. Take it all, because you deserve it. I should have known my place, I’m neither popular nor talented. I’m a pawn, like the person next to me on the bus, on the train. Used, and stringed on like a puppet. Steady those hands.

Oh but why, I’ve already fallen.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Lanterns

June 18, 2009 at 9:04 pm (Stories)

Today, the boy was cold.

Left out in the open, under the pouring rain. It wasn’t like he read in story books, there were no cats or dogs, only cold drops of water rapidly falling.

He didn’t know whether to go forth, or to go back. He was given no instructions for that matter. So he waited, and waited, with faith that soon, very soon, someone, perhaps an angel would share an umbrella.

Sitting beside him, an old lighter. A red one. Without question, too damp to ignite. Still, he tried. Click. Click. Nothing.

What was he to do? No money, no cellphone, no one he knew. All he had in his pocket was lint, and a little bit of faith.

Click.

-

Mother, I’m scared.

Just a boy crying in the rain.

Permalink 2 Comments

Next page »