Eight Hours by Plane

I've been living in a
  d r e a m  w o r l d
where everything is supposed to be
new and stuffed with nervous fear
      but it's not because it's
                  mine
and I know it as if it was
always
  meant
    for
      me

and every day I remember
what I left behind and I realize

that I
don't
ever
want to go

back

Standing at My Kitchen Sink Doing Dishes-

again.

They insist on getting dirty and one of us has to wash them. Well, we don’t

have to— I know this to be true because I have a crazy great-aunt who doesn’t wash any dishes; she buys everything disposable. Some people say this is bad for the environment but I say

she is not so crazy because

I

hate

doing

dishes.

The hot water tap groans if you set it too low, and the cold water tap shrieks, too. This is backwards, I thought hot would shriek and cold would groan

…wouldn’t the world make more sense that way?

The chlorine steams up from the drain like a chemical peel and I reminded again

of where I am                                 which is not

my home in the country,                which is not

my lovers home in the mountains, which is not

my home at school.                                It is

my friend’s apartment where I sleep in the living room

because I am poor. I shouldn’t be poor

because I work…but I am also a student and

the latter is not the lesser...

Under this hot water, I can feel my nails getting soft and there is a dried on

speck of hard on food, on this bowl

of course it would be hard on there like a stupid man

you can’t get rid of no matter how many times

a week you hate him. I slam the bowl on the counter and smash my fingers and curse.

My mother taught me not to curse. 

Sangre De Cristo

Peaks like sharpened steel, warped from

thousands of years of Colorado sun

trapping the heat in this valley, a furnace

boiling away the molecular remains of water that once

made this land fertile, green, inviting. Water that

mere months before capped those peaks in soft blue snow

two lane streets hidden beneath ice, colder

than the bones of those who first broke these grounds

Blanca’s shadow, dark lines on farm land

like armored walls, holding captive

peoples who settled here, this valley of beauty, for protection from the world a new

         start, home for

generations of drop outs, basement dwellers,

inheriting the house when momma dies of a heart attack

they all do, it’s in the water,

it’s in the valley

a gift from the mountains—

a place to wait,

a place to call home

forever.

The Chef Decides to Close the Kitchen

Cast iron kettle on

stainless steel stove.

Purchased perfection, earned by

three thousand six hundred and fifty days

in the kitchen; in my kitchen

the water slinks in thick streams from tap to bottom of the

pot,                    

now resting solid, on the worktop.

Bring it to a boil and wait fifteen minutes…

Neatly kept fingers deftly spin and click the flame

Spin and click. Spin and click…

Blast this stove!

It’s heating now, the kettle, and the

Water rumbles inside, tumbling over itself and over itself.

The water is dancing and as it starts to scream

I slip myself inside. 

Tennis Shoes

The shoes were a Christmas present from my parents

high school spirit green; the

perfectly preppy piece of every

Outfit; dark jeans fitted like a glove

Carefully creamy soles padded

Down school halls, a princely waltz

My smile had ruling power there,

My sparkling eyes made every call.

Perfect shoes that held me steady when

my first love’s lips puckered

and tapped the carpet outside my parents room after

the nights    I    lived    for

Seattle now

And these shoes have seen more sidewalk than padded, carpet floor

Rain and snow wore themselves into blisters on my feet

5 times, each a week, I couldn’t walk.

I hobbled. Black spot on my foot after

a long shift at work

Wet socks inside these shoes now,

Not cute ones like before

I tie the greying laces, I have no choice anymore

No line of soft new shoppings haul

Every color and style to match

My money stretches not at all,

Barely covering the rent on this tiny hall

Ten months ago together, though a millennium it feels,

These shoes and I set out to walk an uncharted course

To change the world and become be that perfect girl

But there are holes in the soles of my shoes now

      there are holes in the souls of my shoes

Tonight, like all the others

Without an inch of light seeping
in through the blinds
not because they have been closed
though for days they have
no light to be seeped
no light to be stolen
alone in the dark in the heat

I slip into
tortured dreams and
     awake
with blood on my pillow

Waiting

The Cliff

A dark cliff hangs sharply against

white sky, floating

clouds invisible to weary

aching eyes

My body on the

edge; a kite catching every

thought. My toes hang over, my

heels dig deep

daring

the wind to make

one final

fatal       

sweep

You throw me down

a rope

from your perch above; you

have watched me sway and

decided, a modern muse

that today is not my day.

Summer Storm

The storm has
passed but the flood
waters remain
swirling imperceptibly
towards an invisible drain

I don't know where they are
going or from whence they came
but I can feel it draining slowly

until nothing remains

Because I Won

I won

The bus doors creak as they swallow us up

like a big tin of sardines

with the sharp turn on the lid after Rachel has snuck one before dinner

we have sardines sometimes

Momma says it’s because she likes them

But she doesn’t like them and I think it’s because we are poor

like

Marbles against a wooden box,

rolling around in there and shaking

hitting the sides and tumbling across the grain

I have to sit at the back of the bus where the seats are hard and made of the oldest vinyl in Grant county

Papa says its cuz we dark, darker than the cold shadows behind the shed where we sit in August

Sometimes he says its because the white people are mean

the white people who sit at the front of the bus, with so much space between them

there is only room for thick thick pride, pride that you

gotta walk through to get to the back, pride that you

brush off your clothes and cough out as you pass

but I don’t believe him because I

have a friend who is white girl and she always wear cotton dresses to school

blue cotton and cotton she calls sea foam green

and the way she laughs when she says sea foam green as if she expects me not to know what it is

but I know because I asked my momma one day and she said it’s the color of our refrigerator

the cold aluminum sides the same as her soft cotton dresses

with their ruffles and collars and bits of lace

I know what lace is too

and she is the nicest girl in school because she told me once I could have a drink from her fountain and she wouldn’t tell no one and then she ran off and her laugh tinkled out and bounced off the playground walls

and someday, someday I am gonna marry her

Papa says it is a bit too early for that

seens how we are only eight years old and we don’t know

what marriage is anyhow

But I know I am gonna

Marry that girl because I won the biggest marble

last week from Tommy Swinton

I won the biggest marble

from Tommy Swinton and he said I couldn’t do it and they let me in their circle just so they could laugh at me, he said, and they did laugh, like angry dogs who haven’t been fed but I won it

And I am the new King at marbles

And no one can tell me no, now

The Poppy Seed

The poppy seed that sat atop

a ripe and golden muffin

Amid sprinkles of other friendly poppy seeds

neatly tucked into the brown sugar crumbles

The poppy seed so black it shone purple

Purple like the bruise your brother gave to you in sixth grade when nothing was good

and purple like your favorite lipstick during that time when you thought everything black was cool

and purple like the big black box they carried your mother away in when nothing was ever the same

The poppy seed was small

small like the paychecks you live off of, feeding you day by day

small like the girl next door who always seems to have a party going on

small like the mistake you made that one time that cost you all the other times to repay

The poppy seed sat atop a hill

A golden hill of sweet memories and

Surrounded by other friendly poppy seeds

poppy seeds who thought the one on top was the coolest

because in the horrible heat of the oven he rose to the top

But the poppy seed on top of the muffin

Fell onto the ground

Just a poppy seed

Black as the brown dirt that speckled the grey floor

smaller than the marble the cat is playing with

just a poppy seed

and never any more

Caught Bouquet

Red stain on a virgins lip

bleeding in from gilded tip.

A tomato forgotten on the vine,

Deep hue of blood;

Seared in by sunlight’s

            Warmth

Soft petals edge

Light shining white,

reflecting soft satin.

Flowing from her waist as a

perfect pour of thickest milk

Pitcher to hip

Lip to floor

A robust bloom,

full as a porcelain bowl.

Young bridegroom’s eyes

Green of aspen leaves

Sunshine and shadow green

green of apples skin and

mossy glen, seat for

            many

stems. Thick and

strong—upholding.

Buds of white

Crisp cotton on the line

Springs bubbling blue

lilting on transparency.

Breathing sugared air with the roses

Petals dreamt of

before their sprout.

Young bride

New wife

Blooming scent of love’s

New life.

Sometimes a Shower

Prefontaine once explained
"There will always be clubs you cannot join..."
I can see them more and more
they are everywhere I go
A family
A team
those who are far better
those who don't restrict
some have lots more money
others have traveled far
the ones I find most frustrating
have gone and seen and done
but can't tell you, oh, its fun!
You'll learn when you are older
you'll see when you become
One day you'll be a part of us
if you can prove you have the guts
but until then
sit back, admire
apart from us, there is no higher!
And I look at, those fair folk
Accomplishment? I see none!
They have only been successful
at being wildly dumb
don't they know that learning
comes from many alike?
and that you'll never be more popular
than when your friends are diverse?
I don't want to be
part of your club!
or in your secret circles!
I only wish you'd see that I
have also thoughts of worth!
So keep your jackets
keep your shirts
I have my own club now
I think and ponder, even dream
under the lonely water's stream
the droplets dance upon my skin
the soap glides round my sides
even the shampoo sees more,
for it looks me in the eye

Not What it Seems

It isn't about the papers
the numbers and letters and grades
or the late nights and early mornings
working for that A
Learning isn't in the classroom, it's in the people

It isn't about the places
the views and scenes
or food or smells or goods
the planes, trains, or sidewalks
Because travel is accomplished in the mind, through the stories

It isn't about the flowers
Birthday presents and walks to church
or pictures or things
or anything else
Love is about growing into the life you want, by choosing whats in your head

You can go to every class and ace every test
but did you study the good, earn the better, or learn the best?
You can stand in every country, throw rocks off ever shore
but if the places aren't backdrops for feelings, what did you go there for?
You can kiss and hug and cuddle, go out every night
but if you aren't a better person now, would you say you won the fight?

Life is about progression
not checking things off the list.
Don't rush through, but don't forget
There is always something next
and not everything has to be best
save the superlatives for the paper
and remember this
it's not always what it seems;
to be living your truest dreams

Morning Delight

The sun has barely shown it's face
on your side of the world
but I call anyway

Your voice is tired
mine is too
it's been barely hours
since I talked to you

I've been working
away at school
you're celebrating

But right now
at four
we're the only ones up
and it's just us on the phone

knowing no one else is up
to hear this simple conversation
adds intimacy which
closets lack;
that is merely imitation

It is not that we've found a place
to hide and call our own;
we're the only ones to claim this time
the world, right now, is ours

So good morning dear
Have a good day
and don't forget about me
We've found power in this wake up call
at four o clock in the morning

The SeeSaw

Bright red seesaw
in a beautiful park
we play and laugh for hours
up and down and
down and up
the adventure never stopped
from way up high
we could see
the sun and all 'twas underneath
and on the ground
the sky and stars
but my favorite thing
was looking up
seeing your face
smiling back down
as we would bounce
up and down
the seesaw went
it seemed unending fun
but soon your friends came over
they said you had it good
you smiled, agreed and winked at me
I thought I understood
you stayed up in the air and said
look at me, I've got the best!

Now I've been here
down on the ground
a great long while, you keep me down
And from your glorious perch above
you tell me all the things you see
I tell you what I see, you say
you see the same thing too
And isn't it lovely? You agree.
but the truth is that without me
you'd ne'er have such a view

Don't forget that it's a seesaw
and not a bright red ladder
you cannot live among the trees
without someone on the ground
and if they're weary of their place
Your ass might hit the ground

Blister on My Foot

A blister on my foot
a spot that rubs and smarts
waddling oddly on half my shoe
to keep from crying out
no one else can see it
no one knows its there
they only see me limping 'round
trying not to make a sound
they think they know my problem
they question, whisper, accuse
if only they knew
my real problem
was not a blister or two
they claim I'm tired
lazy
crippled
spent too much time at the bar
but les cirques des yeux
aren't from drinking
they're from living
with people like you

Almond Stare

An almond face
my everlasting wish
jaw and hair
and cheek and lip
and eyes, those eyes....
you stop and stare

from time to time
I catch a glimpse
of a view in my favor
but you're never there
just me and those eyes
we stare

when you're around I
I beg and hope
you'll see it
pull her out
ask her for drinks
and talk about

but you just sit and stare

She came out tonight,
long awaited
unanticipated
and you were there
the perfect storm
caught unaware

and you didn't even care

this almond face
lost all to you
will live within my soul;
it's clear when I am happy
for she comes and makes me whole

Je voudrais la vie

Another book back on the shelf
a story yet unread
but study hard, I did and wrote
an essay from my head

I don't have time for all the things
I know I ought to do
Nor have I time for hopes and dreams
except those brought by you

My life may not be perfect
I may not be pristine
but I have love and that's enough
to keep life loving me

I've traveled far
and seen a lot
and I know in my heart
that living
really living
living is enough

I want to read
I want to write
but if I can't,
I'll take life

Could be Fatal

Floating, softly through the air
They oft inspire serenity
beautiful colors, no heavy cares
Still, I don't like them inside of me
lightly tumbling
silk wings tickling
fluttering against the walls
my tummy rumbles and clenches against the darkness
my heart churns, beating rapidly
my soul swarms 'round,
hoping for the rescue
but sweet is still the sound
of your voice in my ear and your kiss on my lips
and everything you do
is perfection
adoration, settling in
but I can't take it any longer
I shall burst with happy light
the joy will shout from 'side my heart
my soul can't take more happiness
without you to help support me
so come, my love, stand near and stay
before these butterflies destroy me

Souls

The world reflects the beauty of the eyes which behold it
The sun reflects the light of one who gazes long
art reflects the minds of the happy observer

So tell me,
what are you leaving behind?

Letters Unsent

Saved in a box
for only my eyes
all I've ever wanted or needed
things to be said
I was unable to say
When it was just you and I
sometimes, it was just me
without a listening ear
I wrote endlessly
on scraps and pieces
saved them all
in envelopes
to be sent home
notes to you
letters too
how I felt;
what I needed to say;
what you needed to hear;
all wrapped up in letters
sealed
addressed
stamped
and stored
letters, to you
letters unsent

a lack of height

I know you try
I know you care
I know you want to help me out
You wish you could be
everything for me
my all, my always, always there

You think you do
but you don't think much
and though you try e'ry day
I don't oft say
Good job, well done, I'm understood

I want you to,
I wish so bad
that we could just connect
but if not with you,
than no one else

for you surely know me best
will I ever be
eye to eye, easy to see?

Or will my view forever be
a trying shirt?
and yours, some hair,
fine, but hardly there.

I suppose I need to get used to it now
It will never get much better
Dear paper, you are my truest friend
and we must only become closer
for there is no one else on earth like me
and it's silence that I fear

a silent conversation

With myself.

So much to say and no one to say it to
one of the dangers of thinking too much
you think someone must care
but who? and where?

left alone with my thoughts once again
this may change, someday, but when?
I do my best
think a little bit less
and choose only the best words to say
but I know without doubt,
I'll have to let them all out;
I still have so much to say

With whom do you share that which cannot be understood?
What, in the world, knows your secrets, even if you don't know their's back?
Or are you all alone with yours too?

Two starts, one sentence.

“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” Why did he have to interrogate her like that in front of everyone else? She missed one shot. Sure she was captain, but couldn’t he just be glad they won?  Still, Greg’s sharp voice wove its way through her sweaty hair, into her cold ears to stab at her soul. Always critical, of her at least, this was the Greg she knew. How stupid she was to think a few drinks one night in August would change any of that. This was not drinks in August. It was a soccer game. Soccer. That’s all she ever was to him. All it ever will be.

She looked straight ahead and gave a slight nod, then turned towards the locker rooms, fighting to keep the frustration out of her step as he continued his tirade. They had won, and she was captain, and this was soccer. Game face. Get it back on, Kaylee, get it back on.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” She no longer wanted to be there, on the edge of the grand lawn, with this ridiculous man. Sir Ellingsworth had graciously offered his arm for an afternoon stroll through the gardens and Waltstone Castle received so few visitors, she happily accepted the invitation. Conversation was pleasant enough as they wandered the roses and hedges, getting to know each other, as intimately as etiquette would allow for a first walk together. But when they arrived on the terrace over looking the polo field, he had the nerve to kiss her, on the lips, without warning! What an audacious young man!

It had been several long moments since, and he had done nothing but pepper the air with accusations. Hadn’t she enjoyed it? Wasn’t he handsome enough? Wasn’t his family well enough off? Hadn’t he made his intentions perfectly clear?

‘This is what I get, for complaining for lack of excitement around here, an overly excitable gentleman What luck for such a splendid afternoon’ she thought to herself.

For English 284, Exercise 1 

Running with Scissors e.2

a postcard collage for my boyfriend (classified sticker added in editing for security) 

featuring Patty the Penguin

So many words
they just won't come out
trapped in my mind

forever

so many words
not enough time
I'll keep all these thoughts
they'll be always mine

Running with Scissors e.1

 a collage based on a calendar page, with various magazine images layered and thread loosely strung 

 a collage of legs and feet with a caption about handy feet

a quick sketch; The Butterfly Room

To you,

thank you for being my anchor,my wings
for lifting me up
holding me steady
letting me go when you know
I'm ready
thank you for being
such a support

Lane, I couldn't have done it with out you

Black Soap

Black soap,

it's in a tin

brand new

three times worn in

bought to pamper

used to purge

was a simple

saturday splurge

but no more now

it means something else

not for giving treats

my dark dark soap

rough and messy

scrapes daily defeats

rubbing hard

here and there

to buff away the

pain and wrong

my daily song

scrub it all this day

no soft nor white

soap will do the trick

for rub all day it will simply rub

it cannot scratch the muck

I have to use my blackest soap, 

to clean off my bad luck

let's start anew

with skin all red

and nothing there to taint it

and maybe someday

I'll be clean

and can use white soap instead

So I Wait

Never go to bed upset

never sleep angry

well I'm missing you

and worried now

that you might just hate me

you say you don't

you never could

and that you'll always stay

but I'm still scared 

I don't know how

to get to better days

I've tried, I have,

but seem to fail

worse with each attempt

so I'm waiting now

I will to sleep

'till you come back

to me

Beginning of Something

Found this in my purse:

A Broken Doll

    Porcelain fine and fair
with scratches here and there
    Still pure it ever glows

    Eyes of shining light
who've long seen only night
    But they still happiness hold

    Locks of perfect curls
the softest in the world
    Though matted, they are fine

    This broken doll, a beauty from
an age that is long gone
    But the doll remains, lovely still
beauty, held inside

The Friday Parcel

Quick footsteps upon rough pavement
rubber soles colliding with aged stone
pants brush, she walks quickly
around him, past her
weaving from left to right
trying to stay out of sight
She hardly glances right as she steps into the street
The brown paper crinkles under her arm
she adjusts her long package
it slips and she snatches it up
eyes darting around her as she bends over
she keeps walking
with even more haste
she buzzes in
taking the stairs at double
briskly down the tattered carpet
her feet move with fear
her key juts into the lock
not daring a moments pause
inside one door, there's just one more
keys fumbling, making sharp clicks against the old doorknob
turn twist push slide close lean
the narrow parcel leaps from her hand like
hot coal
and she leans against the door
standing
staring
at the brown paper bag
her heart pounding
her palms sweating
the end of the package has been torn
and she can see
just the tip
of a rounded brown baguette

all this for a loaf of bread?

Word of the Week

The word of the week is sacrifice
are you willing to lose it all
for the hope that something better will fall
into place?
Is is ok to give all this up?
the daily smiles and people
for a love that is written in years
years to come, ages it will last
but when you look back
into this dusty, dark past
will you regret the choices you made
to get to that day,
and if they had changed
would your life be the same?

Ignorant Trees

How many times have I said 

those words to a listener

far away, and heard a reply

after a sigh and a slight delay

how oft has the city

absorbed that as its own;

do these walls and these streets 

suppose the homage is paid

to my urban home?

Do the bricks and the trees here realize

that whispered or sung

they're meant for only one

And he is far far away

Are there people here in my city

with loved ones around the world?

or will the ign'rant reign forever more

blindly atop a weak throne

Do you know how much it means to me

and why I utter it so much?

our love is vast, and intricate

like the deserts dust

And while I never want to share you

I'll make sure the whole world knows

with each uttered line and symbol

You make the whole world feel like home

I love you.

Love like Rockets

When you can look at the night sky, and feel your feet leave the earth,
the rocket ship of life taking off towards new stars
When you can stare at a blank white wall and feel the same
your soul take flight, your life alight
Every touch and breath is magic
and each look worth more than gold

When everything seems within reach
and even the darkness shines with promise
Where the endless sky and endless time collide
there is a star named just for us
And you just can't smile enough
Because you've never known such love

Your heart has never been so full
your head n'er seen such dreams
Your face can break into a smile
at all the simplest of things
for life is full of magic
horizons glow, paths alight,
You bring so much into my life!

If I ever wondered,
I never will again;
Life is far more beautiful
when you're in love with your best friend

:)

Concrete Conversations

Something about concrete, cold, hard concrete.
Such a comfort,
it calls to me when I am down
Come; sit, lie down
rest your battered soul
don't worry about your body
the rain will wash it clean
and you'll feel better
curl up right here
in the dark right now
stay till dawns light
I'll make it better somehow
the pain will fade
and numb you'll be
sleep will come
and maybe dreams
when you arise
stiff and sore
just remember what you came here for
to forget
and to ignore
now you've done that and even more
You've made it to the shining dawn
you've passed the test
you can move on
now stretch your legs
get on your feet
be on your way
and dwell no more
on cold hard ground,
that isn't where life is found
But when your eyes
graze hallowed skies
you'll know you really are alive
Go, my child
and fear ye not
life may be hard
but so am I
And from me to you,
we both go on

Butterflies, He told me.

Butterflies, he told me.
I have never been one of those girls. The pretty ones, the popular ones, the smart ones, the nice ones, the cool ones, the graceful ones, those ones. I have never been any one of them. I don't think it's because I'm not any of those things, just not the right amounts. Those girls, they are like beautiful desserts. It takes a special recipe to come out like one of them, and I am short on a few ingredients. And since I am not anything, like them, I must be nothing. I've always thought I was something of course, but what? Naturally, that makes me a nothing. Not made my nothing, just not any thing known yet. Pure loneliness and a little too much time to ponder poetically brewed the perfect pot tonight for me to be quietly, distantly torn to pieces about it. And he knew. Somehow.

And when he found out, he told me I was a butterfly.

Iceberg

 Some

 times I think 

  I might be just 

     ice. cold and unfeeling. beautiful 

                to look at destruction  waiting to happen an ice berg waiting in the ocean to ruin the 

unsuspecting voyagers who may come my way

seeking new lands adventure untold wealth a fresh 

        start and I end it before they arrive with my unseen mass

        they know I am coming they can see the ice but the truth they see 

         is not all it is not everything it is not all of me they see but a trick. 

I am more than they can handle. and I ruin them. just by being me. 

they think I am small but I am much larger than they could have ever inagined. 

deeper too. they think they know what they are getting into they think they 

understand but they can't because 

what they see is just the 

                            tip of the ice berg

Memories: Aisle Five

Walking, standing, riding the bus, walking, standing, walking.

The glass doors slide open, sensing my presence.

At least someone does.

And suddenly, out of the dark rain

I am thrust into this shiny yellow circus

Shelves, boxes, carts and people in every direction

Beeping rings through the air, mingled 

with voices; laughter

Ok, I have something to do here

I need food. I think

I don't really know, but I came here, so I must

Right?

People around me move with purpose

they have lists and a schedule:

food to buy, people to make it for

eat it with

I'm carrying an empty canvas bag

I make my way over to the produce section

produce is good...

I'm picking among the apples, looking for nothing

I grab two. then two more. 

Apples. Check. 

Now what? Oh yeah.

I have a science project coming up.

I wander down the pop aisle

looking for something I won't like

root beer. perfect. I grab a two liter. 

Somehow, I always end up down the candy aisle

when I come

missing you

I don't even really like candy that much

but you do

and I know what you like

it's easy to pick something you might eat.

Skittles this time, I finally head to a cash register.

Self check out, where I don't have to talk to anyone. 

I take so long setting my bag down

the attendant walks my way

I drop it on the counter

beep

beep 

beep

tap tap tap tap tap

beep

beep

tap tap 

swipe

shuffle shift whisk whisk

I slip the navy canvas over my shoulders and pad towards the door

getting stuck behind some students

students like me

out with friends on a Friday night

why do that have to do that?

Oh, right...that's what people do

just not me

I take quick steps through the cold air

stand in the mud by a bus stop

ride

sit

share my cookies with a stranger

he thanks me

I tell him to have a good night

walk

climb

open the door

put everything away

sit down

you're still gone

Loneliness isn't just for the lonely

broken hearts aren't reserved 

for those who've been left

and for me,

Aisle five, QFC. That's where

memories are kept. 

Grocery stores. Not for the faint in heart. 

I always say the wrong thing

I never seem to get it right
now matter just how hard I try
I'll wait all day
stay up all night
confess to dreams and fears alike
but when I say the simplest thing
you can't understand just what I mean
and though in whole we neatly fit
its these little things that might do it
so I've been told; so I worry still
please don't leave
stay
please say you will

Let's Get Lost

Let's run away
jump the fence
sneak through the door
make no plans
get the heck outta dodge
elope if it comes
see the world
hold my hand
break loose
get set free
prove there's nothing
there to stop us

But just for tonight darling, let's get lost

     --Partial lyrics credit: Bat for Lashes

Just a moment

Worry not young man
I shall not be too long
I'll leave the place in your capable hands
you wont notice that I've gone
I just need a moments break
rest from all you see
a moment without anyone
just one to be me
But I'll be back
so very soon
and when I come, you'll know
strength lies within
from eyes it shines

sometimes conquering occurs alone

A Lack of Color

Empty tones
hollow notes
enter my mind
fill in thoughts
I'd rather not
I think I won't
I'll wander out instead
anywhere that isn't here
this day started with sunshine
with colors bright and
breezes warm
the scents teased my heart
I could have stayed out all day
It's night time now
and nothing that was
is
anymore
its dark and cold
she's home again
tension and pressure
emanating from turned shoulders
empty conversation across the
airwaves
doing what must be done
all the bare minimums
show up here
say your piece
do this and that
and don't be late
I've done it all
all I can do
And into the stars I'll run
into the dark
where hues and shades fade fast
where looking back at planet earth
it seems beautiful at last

a lack of color
a solid darkness
no expectations
obligations
just you alone
and all you hold
is thought and known and felt
Just you, all you
and no one else
tonight is spent alone

loving you

I may not always like myself
I may not quite approve
of the way my nose sits
or the way my stomach moves
I may wish I didnt think so much
wish I didn't talk
but the truth is that I wouldn't change a thing
I love myself a lot

Life seems to be a journey
of progression and experience
and if I wasn't me,
then who would I be?

A small brunette with a button nose
sweet voice and designer clothes
A curvy latin diva
with hair and eyes to kill
but if you move your body,
you'll always get your will
A lanky blonde athletic girl
with legs that won her medals
I'd wear jeans and Nike shirts
and still make 'em jealous

The funny thing about these people
though they may have their own fun
is my life wouldn't be the same
if of them I were one.
I wouldn't think the same weird thoughts
or hear the sounds I hear
I wouldn't see the skies or ground
the way I've grown so dear

I wouldn't love the live I have
or all the people in it
and I'd never have my one true soul
to remind me every minute

I may not always like myself
but I am glad I'm me
in another life, with another man
I'd never want to be

I love myself
loving you

Dangerous Thoughts

Walking along a stone bridge,
my hand grazes the side
moving up with the posts
and down with the rail
I imagine the ground beneath me
if I took a sail

I don't look over the waist-high edge
I don't look beneath me
but I hear the cars whizzing past
so fast if I stepped out
there would be no time
and before they knew I was there
I wouldn't be anymore

The rain falls though unseen
silent drops upon my coat
wet on the ground
ignored by the world
it's too dark for observing
too dark for details
save those bathed in the yellow
of old and creaking lamp posts
the cracks in the sidewalk,
but only those
lighted, as they've always been.
the others don't exist
but you;ll feel them


I've never been really tempted
but tonight I am alone
I'm wet; have no direction
just trying to get home
I've been walking now for ages
through streets shadowed and bare
Cat calls and empty pages
my heart tries not to care
You haven't said a single word
not even one in anger
Concern fills me like a shallow ditch
worry; impending doom
so many things I could do
but how will I know which?

no tiny peek
no little glance
I will give no chance
to choose to try
see what its like
to fall beneath this blackened sky
to make these hours
stretch into days
and jump with no one there

I do not look
but I still  know
what grey and green lies down below
It's concrete steps and iron bars
mushy grass next to old cars

I'm not tempted, really
I don't really want to know
but I'll think some more
maybe forever
of the hardness of that blow
my body on the ground
in some big odd heap
with no one else around
I'll slip away to sleep

someone will find me
at some point
with their eyes or with their tires
and if I had no one to live for
that's what I'd want to do
I want to feel the wind
I want to hear the crunch
I want to know the damage
and if I can take the pain
would it kill me quickly
or will my landing be soft?

If I had nothing to live for
I might try it,
for fun.

Something about Today

Oh what a day what a beautiful day
the smells of the world wafting 'round
lights and sounds dance about
oh yes the earth is alive!
breathing and beating
'DO SOMETHING TODAY'
the whole place is singing!
run run run
raise up your arms
open your eyes
open your heart
the grass blades are moving
ideas floating in air
dont let them go
take a big breath and so
inhale the world
and breathe prospects fair
soar among the clouds
see the world through sunlight
take a peek through the fog
reach out to another
don't let your dreams down
be who you are
and love who you're not
and most of all live
for this life's all you've got

Stupid Kids

It's far too late for innocence
little children are asleep
the only people out
are troublemakers on the street
no one is sober
though not all've been drinking
making memories; good ones
labeled 'what was I thinking'
trees whiz by
streetlights too
the law means nothing now
we're just stupid kids out for a night
out to paint the town
the sunlight doesn't exist now
only a dark sky
speckled with stars named
love and dreams and...
kiss me now
those stupid kids have got no head
just lips and hands and
big big plans
lets run away
they took the car
they're gonna drive, fast and far
alone forever, just them together
taking on the world
but first
one more kiss
on the side of the road
to that crazy girl

Sometimes, just getting through the day
is all I can say
an accomplishment simply to breathe
and with you gone
and me all alone
its good enough just to be
I'll pass the time
I'll wait the days
till I can feel once more
then I'll be there
smiling again
knocking on your door

Inside my Cocoon

I went to bed
all bundled up
in things you used to use
I stayed there
as long as I could
enjoying the scent filled air
When I finally got up,
slowly I dressed
In anything you'd
laid hands on
and that is how
I ended up with
two pairs of pants on
I'm wearing three shirts as well
two that you liked
and one just for the warmth
a coat you kissed me in
though I'm not cold
it's almost as if you are here
I washed my face and
brushed my teeth
but I'm not going to shower
I'm not going to wash away
all the times
you touched me
not for a few more hours
so I may look odd
I can hardly move
but that is really the point
there is no room for thinking;
missing you;
when I'm in my cocoon

That Girl at the Gate

Walking into the terminal, she quickly finds the baggage claim for his airline and sits in a chair close by, setting her cardboard sign down on the table. The sign, expertly designed from the side of a box and some permanent marker, has been drawing attention the whole trip down, as one side has two swords on it, and the other, his name. She checks the time, and then the arrival's board, and then her phone again, pacing back and forth. It's early, his flight is early, but it should have landed already and he is no where to be seen. Not wanting to be caught off guard, she stands by the baggage claim, sign in one hand as she scans the corridor in both directions.
       Waiting next to her is two women; mother and daughter she presumes. To keep her nervous mind occupied, she asks them who they are waiting for and where they are coming from. Salt Lake. It landed way before the Denver flight. Darn it. They ask her in return and she explains that her boyfriend is coming in for the weekend. Their friend arrives and they wish her luck as they walk away to retrieve baggage.
   Ten minutes later and he is still nowhere to be seen. She paces back and forth, craning to see around the people and equipment of the baggage claim floor. She checks the flight status board again and finally sees that his flight has been recorded as landed. Her heart races as she looks again and again down both sides of the hallway. A group of Utes walk up to the board and she directs them to their claim, three down the way. One in particular asks her who she is waiting for, and wishes her luck. She wishes him the best and continues and wait, the butterflies in her stomach growing unbearable.
     An older gentleman standing near the status board has been watching her and she has the distinct impression that he knows what is going on, and from the twinkle in his eye, he approves. She checks again. The flight landed at 6:33 and its now nearly 7:00; every moment is agony. She decides to check down the hall again, and walks to the other side of the board, where, standing suddenly in her way, he is there. Dressed in a brown sweater and jeans, she stops a few feet away from him, so startled to finally see him after an unbearably stressful evening of preparations and waiting.
    She says his name as she runs the few feet into his arms, trying to remember how to breathe again. He smiles and bids her hello, then puts his arm around her shoulder and guides her back to the baggage claim to wait. She stands as close as possible, looking up at him, studying every detail, remembering again what he looks like up close. People mill about, and the two women from earlier walk by with their friend wishing her a good night. Finally, grabbing his bag from the carousel, he turns with her to walk to the train and she catches the eye of that old man by the sign. He winks and nods his head, and she smiles inwardly, relieved to know that others can see the love she feels so strongly, afraid to show.


She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in the middle of his brown sweater. He leans down, planting a soft kiss on her head; both whispering their goodbyes. Handing him his bag, she watches him walk around the rope barricades to the security line. He reaches the end of the line and turns around, smiling at his love, now twenty five feet away. A mere twenty five feet, but there is already no turning back. He has left, and she must watch him go.
   A few more moments pass and he slowly inches his way up the line, at last reaching the security attendant. He turns around and smiles again, offering a wave of goodbye. She is standing in the same place, smiling and waving back, hoping he is far enough away to not see the tears the she is blinking back. After taking his time in the security line, he sends her a text. "I love you". She replies and waves at her love, across a sea of people and barriers, designed specifically to keep people out.
    He begins to walk to his gate, and she mirrors his steps, blowing him one last smiling kiss as he rounds the corner. It is important to smile, she thinks to herself, to help him. But as soon as he is gone, her heart falls and her smile disappears. The weight of the world suddenly seems to rest on her shoulders and she doesn't know what to do with it.
    She wanders down the hall to the bathroom. For ten minutes she stands in front of the mirror, thinking and trying very hard not to think. Somehow she makes it to the train, and finds a seat in the back by herself, sending a few last text messages to her love, wishing she was there as he begged to stay, wishing she could tell him to come back through the line and stay with her forever. He promises to call her as soon as his plane lands and she fakes a happy goodbye, wishing him luck.
     Someone asks her for directions at the bus stop, and she answers but not very well, though she knows the area. She gets on the wrong bus, and gets off a few blocks later, wandering to a convenience store to buy his favorite drink. She can't get it on campus, and the idea of not having any makes her shudder, without making any sense. The store clerk looks at her strangely and she thinks she must have been staring, but it makes no difference. She crosses the street to a sandwich shop. She knows exactly what he would order, and though she doesn't really like it, she buys one, even asking for his weird sauce combination.
    Walking blindly across campus in the dark, she is faintly aware of her solitude, but the sudden loneliness in familiar surroundings renders the warning of safety unheard. She walks flat footed, shoulders slumped not in fatigue or pain, but without desire to otherwise. She shovels bites of sandwich into her mouth, noting the flavors and wondering how he could like such a combination. She isn't even hungry, but it doesn't matter, nothing she thinks or feels is of any importance tonight, only that she somehow keeps him with her. Keeps that face in her mind forever, that wave, the look in his eyes as he passed through the gate.
She was that girl at the gate.
I was that girl at the gate.

Seattle Sun

What a beautiful day
The sun seems to say
as it bounces off water so blue
What a glorious day, the fog seems to say
I'm playing with mountain tops too!
The wind and the birds all agree
that today is as great as can be
So smile as you walk and
nice words you'll talk
as you find that you're happy
too

Vanilla and Musk

I wish I were vanilla
in another life I'd be,
the kind of girl who wore
fine vanilla so lightly

put together? always
elegant? a must
poised and très intelligente;
while I am more robust

I laugh and sing and smile
they play games with their eyes
I'm silly and juvenile,
They never speak their minds

I wear fruits and spice and musk
I let my person out
and to their scent; vanilla
they hold a life devout

I may be adventurous 
but I will never be
the kind of girl who wears vanilla
vanilla isn't me

Lucky

Lucky, lucky yes I am,
to have a man like you.
Someone who completes me;
makes all my dreams come true.

Lucky, lucky, you can bet
that's how I see myself
To make me happy you would put
your own wants on a shelf.

Lucky, lucky to have found one
who waited long for me
to make up my mind to choose
the best that I have ever known

Lucky, lucky all day long
and on into the night,
you text me, call me, all the time
make everything feel right.

Lucky, lucky to know someone
that never would deny
that our love will only grow
as every day goes by

Lucky, lucky to have found such
a perfect match as this
and I will wait eternity,
and not a single moment miss.

Lucky, lucky, is the girl
who ends up next to you
I am so glad, I cannot wait;
for us to say 'I do'

Lucky, lucky for that day
in Utah when we met
and lucky now, forever more
our course is set.

Lucky, lucky..that is me,
because I have known you,
and lucky I will always be
Thank you.

Day Three

Its just day three
The day after
days one and two
There's much to do
there's much to do
work from day one
and from day two
but you spent
all your time awake
counting sheep
and dreaming late
you read some books
made conversation
you made friends
gazed constellations
What a mistake
a grave mistake
I've much to do
I'm running late
I don't understand
cette langue at all
I haven't cracked the spine
professors think
I create time
just by being alive
But on day two
I talked to you
because you were annoyed
I didn't want to lose you
so my time was work devoid
now its day three
and silly me
I am so far behind
I called in sick
Went back home
gave up and went to bed.

Don't prove me wrong

You don't know what its like to be without you.

I thought we were going to last forever, don't prove me wrong.

Always More Than Yesterday

I love you more than yesterday
for all the sweet new things you say.
For hours spent in conversation
for moments of faux speculation.
For whims and fancies
brought to life
and dreams fully supported,
for talking way into the night
and silly dreams reported.
For quips and words of reassurance;
for acceptance of my 'gifts';
for silly games of mock insurgence.
For promised forts and sheep and still
tiny little elephants.
For every fight
we've almost had
and every small "I'm sorry".
For, through the very awful worst,
you still waited for me.
For never being truly mad.
For loving me just as I am,
and asking not one single change;
though you know for you
my life I'd quickly rearrange.
For cold cold cars, acoustic guitars
and phone songs way off key (from me).
For plane tickets and long bus rides
just for some time with me.
For never doubting when I'm right
even if I'm wrong.
For telling me to dream and hope
and asking at my plans.
For not getting dangerously jealous,
when I eat with another man.
For Ireland and for our jar
of things I want to do;
For being the man in a young girl's heart,
for being a dream come true.
For all these things I've listed,
for all the ones I missed,
for all the things I've yet to learn
and every reason more;
Forever is yours if you'll just ask
for my hand belongs in yours.

Please, may I write?

Do you ever have a story?
Burning deep inside
screaming "help I must get out,
I must speak my mind!"

It's not that I don't welcome them
truly, though, I do,
a new come story is a happy thought
second only to you

But they always seem,
though they do not mean,
to come at the worst times
there's much to do and writing now
just isn't on my mind

Why can't I just spend all my life
writing till I'm gone
think of a more joyous thing
You can't, so just move on
I'll write and dream and window paint
I'll dance and sing and shout
I'll love and live and be myself
and ever do no wrong
for its hard to do a bad thing
when your mind is filled with good
so can't I write this story now?
Later I'll do the things I should.

Promise.

The 5 Minute Forecast

How does the weather change so fast?
Go from warm blue skies to gray?
Children who have just changed now
are told they cannot play
The bathers on the beaches
go fast for higher ground
and people in the streets
are madly running round
The weather was just happy now
all bright and clear as day
but suddenly its night time, how
it changes rapidly
we think we know where we are going
but when the skies change soon
be ready for a different path,
perhaps beneath the moon
No worries, child, have no fear
its just the silly weather
and really now, remember here
this wind will bring new weather.

a poorly written poem on a beautiful new story

I've never been a patient girl
my parents know that well
if there is something that I want
I'll make it happen now
the waiting game is not my best
Though I often have to play it
I wish I could have the best things now
and leave old age for the rest

I wish I could have more money
so I could go to school
I wish it didn't take clothes and food
to be considered cool
I wish I lived closer to you
but not outside my city
so lets just move the city too,
They'll appreciate new scenery.

I think I'd like to jump right now
to years that've yet to come
to future times and love and fun
that wait beyond the sun
I think you and I
should run away, just
pack some bags and run
I think we should go far from here
where our names are not yet known

I hope we make it through the years
of waiting for the day
when we won't be away any more,
when yours will be my name
some people think I'm crazy
and that they rightly must
for I've never been a girl whose
stories you could strictly trust

I've always loved a tale to tell
and often that I do
but I've never spun a single one
when it comes to you.
We made our own beginning
one I've never heard before
with cardboard swords and
flipping phones, did cupid teach you that?

Now for the middle and the end
will you help me write those too?
I'd like some love and laughter,
lets add adventure too!
Now you know I'm not a patient girl,
and a day spent writing is bliss
but you should know I'll meddle not,
for every moment in this story
is one I cannot miss