June 3rd, 2009
i wonder if storm clouds cry themselves to sleep
if each bitter droplet stings like acid
i wonder why comfort food brings no comfort
why each bite is like a bite through the heart
i wonder why "cheer up" deepens the pain
and why the sun shines brighter when i can no longer shine
(unless the sun is mocking me, then i no longer wonder)
why when i say "i'm fine"
you believe me
sorrow makes me lie
lie through crooked teeth, ever stained by bitter words
i am a liar and a thief and a cloud
that blocks the sunny sky from herself
but if the sun does not shine
i wonder why you always seem so bright
i am the cloud that rains over my head
pouring down questions with no answers
and answers with no questions
i am the clouds, the thunder, the lightning
rain rain, go away.
go away, or drown me.
April 30th, 2009
Aqui está Penelope Cruz en la Alfombra Roja. ¡Ay! ¡Mire ese vestido! ¿Ella está yendo a los premios o va a quitar al polvo? Creo que Penelope se ve como un plumero rosado. No sé por qué ese vestida feo cuesta dos mil quiencientos, pero sé esto: ¡No me gusta nada!
Diego Luna siempre
se ve guapo, incluso en ropa casual. Aqui, el lleve los jeans, una camisa blanca, y zapatos marones. En total, ese equipo solamente cuesta doscientos cincuenta dólares. Diego prefiere las ropas casuales, porqué son simples, baratos, y tienen mucho estilo.
Yo pienso Selena Gomez está yendo a la fiesta, pero ¿que esta ella llevando? ¡Tiene un cinturón encima de su camiseta verde muy claro, y medias y zapatos de taco con sus pantalones cortos! ¡Ay! Ese equipo no es bonita, pero cuesta cientos cincuenta dólares.
September 8th, 2008
The tree sits upon its hill
an autumn breeze running through its leaves
its leaves of gold
its leaves of red
its leaves of green
its leaves that the tree would no longer
be a tree without
that make that tree so happy
the tree's soul is flying
the leaves that said
that winter's winds would not shake them
would not fade their colours
would not blow them away
from that tree, sitting on its hill
start to shake
start to fade
start to blow away
they were lying
and there the tree stands
withered branches to which three leaves cling
their colours still bright
their stems still strong
unlike the others', who were taken
by the bitter cold wind
their vibrant colours dulled to grey
and still the tree, sitting on its hill, longs for them
it is crying
as spring arises
the tree, with two leaves still attached
cannot bring itself to flower
to bloom, and bring joy
its weakened branches droop
its shriveled roots struggle to keep the tree alive
almost wanting to dry up and waste away
the tree, once so lush and full of life, sits upon its hill
the tree is dying
August 9th, 2008
The most frustrating disease
A writer has to fight
Is when the hand will not respond
And refuses to write
The most aggravating curse
A word-artist can endure
Is when the mind just closes up
Like a vaulted door
Your fists will start to clench
Your teeth will start to grind
You’ll think you have gone raving mad
And start to loose your mind
Temper will start to boil
And no matter what you do
Writer’s block will have a strangling
Grip on you
This poem was written on the first day of a creative writing class I took last week. Our teacher told us to "write about anything you want". like, everyone else wrote about how this is their first day and their excited/nervous, etc. or how the miss their family back at home blablabla. I really didn't care about any of that stuff, and spent a whole 5 mins just drawig on myself and do stupid little scribbles abound the margins of my notbook (that's what i always to when i can't think of anything to write). then i thought to myself "fuck it. I can't think of anything, so i might as well just write about not being a ble to think of anything to write".
Her eyes have lost their spark
Their lively moonlit glow
Her face has lost its smile
And she stares blankly ahead
They ask if she’s okay
She is fine
Even as the held-back tears
Sting her eyes
She is fine
Even as her feelings inside
Threaten to overflow
Threaten to overpower her
Threaten to bubble up inside her
Until she explodes
The feelings she cannot express
Threaten to kill her
From the inside out
She is fine
She will not cry
She will not crack
Do not comfort her
Do not speak to her
Do not look at her
Because she is fine
She is fine
She is fine
this poem was written after a little dance thing at a summer camp i went to. you know how dances are, the only people that really have fun are the girls pretty enough for someone to wanna dance with. Obviously, i'm not one of those girls. So, the dance wasn't fun, and I was just kind of put down about it. My friend, asked if i was okay, and I gave my standard reply "I'm fine" I have a nasty habit of saying that even when I'm NOT fine, and i wish i had less trouble expressing myself. I wrote this poem (not saying who it was by) and slid it under her door. I'm assuming she read it, because the next time she saw me, before she even said hi or anything, she gave me a big hug. and she *hates* hugs.
Last week I went to a museum of modern art in New York. When ever I go to an art I always wish I could draw, or paint, or do something that makes me an "artist". But then I remember: I AM an artist
I make art with words, not paint. Writing, acting, singing, dancing, drawing, playing an instument, ALL of that makes you an artist. It doesn't matter if you're good at it or not. As long as you love it, you ARE an artist.
So without further adue, here are some poems the art at the museum inspired me to write.
Untitled, 1990, by Lee Bontecou
Layers of refined calm lie on her surface
Her gaze is strong?
Her gaze is empty
She does not crack
No tears drip from her eyes.
She only looks ahead
Like she knows where she is going
Many layers on her surface
So we don’t know what lies underneath
Underneath the layers.
She is an eclipse.
A cover lies over her true self
We do not see her shine
We see into the dark blackness that hides her
Hides her from us
Hides her from herself.
Untitled, from Inscape, 2003-2008, by Ahndraya Parlato
In the clear waters
In the calmness of the woods
The rocks and trees surround you
In the coolness, feel it
Feel it like a blanket wrapped around you
The water will caress you, and you will gently float
In the serenity
Let go of all thoughts
Let your mind relax and wander
And steadily breathe
In a world that’s only yours
Keep your eyes closed
And keep your mind open
As the water envelops you
Slowly start to sink
M & Y, 2007, by Amy Sillman
Here, I can breathe
Here, I can listen to the music of my heart
The music that’s always playing
But I still can’t hear it
Anywhere but here
The music sounds
Like tangerine orange
And starfire yellow
The music sounds
Like joy, like freedom
Here, I can listen
To the inner mechanisms of my thoughts
They are an enigma
They speak softly of hopes
Of “I wish” and “what if?”
I hear these thoughts only here
When I am in my element
When I am with my element
When I am my element
June 14th, 2008
So far it's been a pretty crappy Summer. Bad last day of school, "friends" ignoring me, not invited to any Summer parties (but, I'm never invited to *anything* so that really figures), and I don't have anything planned until July. So far it seems my Summer's gonna go just as badly as my school year went.
June 5th, 2008
If you made up your own cereal, what would it consist of, and what would you call it?
I would call them Awesome-Os, and they'd be little crunchy sugar things, with color, that tasted like pure yumminess....plus some strawberry bits to make it healthy
May 19th, 2008
Current Music: People Gotta be Free, by The Rascals
So, we're doing this project in social studies, where we have to make an iMovie on a topic of our choice. Something that influences America's culture. I chose to do my project on cliques and labels, and our project's due soon, so why not dedicate a journal entry to my topic, eh?
Cliques, as you probably know, are a group of people with the same style, hobbies, interests, basically everything that determines their "label" is the same as everyone else's in their clique. Cliques are very incepting of people that don't fit their perception of "normal". Cliques are based upon a false sense of power. The sense of thinking that because you're a part of this group, that gives you a reason to put others down. Well guess what: It doesn't. People need to stop being so ignorant and realize that everyone is this world is different from everyone else. Just because Jessy likes Abercrombie and listening to pop, doesn't mean she can put Lexa down for liking Hot Topic and listening to metal.
That's basically what a label is based on as well. Your likes, dislikes, but mostly, your appearance. People are becoming more and more shallow, and just by LOOKING at someone will say "oh, he's so emo" "she's so prep" "he's such a nerd" Get over yourselves. A label is nothing but a hollow shell, within which is stereotypes and assumptions. Assumptions that are made before the person being labeled is actually given a chance to show themselves. Labels occur because 1. People are superficial. If you dress this way you ARE this type of person. Period. The end. and 2. People are too lazy to actually get to KNOW people. You see Bret sitting over with his friends, wearing a jersey, talking about his football game the other day. You immediately think to yourself "Jock" and therefore assume "bully, not smart, popular, arrogant" Little do you know that Bret also enjoys art, babysits on weekend, loves the same things as you, is a straight A student, and would be your best friend if you gave him a chance...
May 17th, 2008
What differentiates a friend from an acquaintance? When does one become the other?
omg, you did noooot just ask me that
>< "acquaintance" is such a complicated word. the dictionary says "a person one knows slightly, but not as a close friend"
that definition does not even begin to explain what an acquaintance is.
and acquaintance can be the example given by the dictionary. it can also be a person that you will not accept friendship from. it can be someone that you know almost everything about, yet you deny friendship of the said person. it can be a friend who you don't see that much, or don't feel close to. to be an "acquaintance" means much more than to not be friends. acquaintance can not really be defined in a few words, its just that type of thing that takes a laid out explanation rather than a definition. an acquaintance can range from anywhere between love and hate, and that doesn't mean it can't be either of the two. it could even be both at the same time.
an acquaintance can be many things
and i could go on and on about it, but i feel like i should stop here
and let you ponder