Rising Spirits

Catching Up With Myself

I feel hope
grip at my neck,
throttling me with
a familiar joy,
one that I have not
tasted on my breath
for a long time.
The silliness,
I embrace it,
an old friend of mine,
rejoining my company
for some shenanigans.
I begin to lose control,
and it feels good for once,
not like I'm spiraling
through life at maddening speeds,
but as if the world has final
caught up to my break neck pace.
And it's good to know
that, though consciousness lost me for a time,
you were always there.
I was rushing so fast
I could barely hear you calling from next to me.
But now that my eyes have been polished
I can see you again,
right where I had left you.
And as long as you're here,
what could go wrong?

Hands

Hands

As I flounder
in my own self doubt and worry,
I watch as they appear.
By my sides,
above my head,
reaching this way and that.
Their frantic flight throughout my life
astounds me beyond words.
And, as I grab onto one,
I find myself climbing a living ladder,
pulling me higher and higher,
carrying me to the heavens.
But I haven't quite reached
nirvana yet;
there are still some things that need doing,
thoughts that should be going,
steps I will be taking
to take back my life
from the impending self doubt
that haunts my days
and lies by my side at night,
stroking my hair as I shiver to sleep.
So I've kicked it out of bed,
making it sleep on the floor,
but I must find a way to push it out the door,
only to return on occasion.
Hopefully, with all these hands backing me up,
I won't have to push quite as hard.

An Apology; I Hope It's Not Too Late

As of late, I haven't been much like myself. The world has been a confusing, difficult place to be in, where I've been trying to understand myself. And I have come to this simple conclusion; I have no idea.
And I'm afraid that in my quest I have been neglecting to think of others in the process. Many of you have been here to support me, yet I've been much too self absorbed and befuddled to see you all or exactly what I've been doing. I find myself so frustrated with myself and unsure of how to express my feelings of how sorry I am.
I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way, particularly verbally, which is more likely the case. For sticks and stones may break some bones, but words hurt the heart, a much more fragile thing. I wish I could take back all those hurtful things I've said. Likelihood is I was trying to sound all smart trying to help but I just came off as a jackass. And, if the opposite is the case, I'm sorry if I have ignored you or wronged you in the sense of not being in contact with you. I miss you all, as you are my closest friends, but I've been in a realm all my own, trying to reorganize the things I once thought important, but now seem foolish and unnecessary. My outlooks on life have changed dramatically as of late, and I find myself today throwing away roughly 1/5th of my possessions in hopes of moving away from a life focused moreso on possessions than people. For you are what keep me alive from day to day, you are what matter to me. Not some absurd film that came out last week, not a book I may be enjoying. And I'm sorry if I've been too... there. Too involved in your life, too persistent about being with you in any way that I can. That has been because I have been so lost and confused that I've been clinging to you like a life raft, as you are what have gotten me through the past few weeks. You are why I'm still sane, why I still have a reason in life. And if you need me to back off, let me know, and I'll do what I can.
Look, a lot of this has been mad ramblings of a very tired, confused, frustrated individual who has over analysed and over thought everything about the past month in the matter of a few hours, so I get  that not all of this might make sense or ring true for you. But, the theme I'm trying to get across is I'm sorry for everything I've done to wrong you, sorry for all the horrible things I've said and done, sorry for being there too much or not enough. I hope this apology doesn't come too late, as my realization has.

Waiting.....

Waiting.....

Time has stomped by,

each beat rumbling past,

a deafening slam against my forehead.

Yet the one sound

I wish to hear

never comes,

fading away,

fading

until

it's

AND THEN IT COMES SCREAMING
BACK INTO MY CONSCIOUS,

A FREIGHT TRAIN,

RUNNING OVER MY THOUGHTS,

CRUSHING ALL OTHER CONTEMPLATIONS

RESIDING IN MY HEAD,

KICKING THEM OUT

WITH A FERAL SHOUT

I'm left with a feeling of confusion,

rejection,

loneliness.

I open up to you,

yet all I find

are excuses

and empty words.

I don't know how much longer

I can play the part of your puppet,

for my strings have grown taut,

threatening to strangle me.

My care for you is beyond compare,

as I hope you can see,

but I need to know

that there's someone on the other end

of this emotional rope

and that you haven't just

tied it to a tree

to tend to later.

Thoughts Are Running

My Mind Races

My thoughts are running
and I can't seem to catch them,
sneaking speculations
slipping between my fingers
like greasy eels,
sending shocks through my body
before making their great escape,
leaving me stunned and surprised,
so much so
that my life has begun to join them
in their great race.
Sleep, stomach, sanity,
they all abandon me,
trotting ahead of my mind,
tired of the power
I've held over them for so long,
wrenching free
from my fleshy fortress
with a fervent fury.
Yet now I find myself full of holes,
my wants and hopes
pouring out of them uncontrollably,
dousing my friends with feelings
I shouldn't burden them with.
But I can't seem to find any plugs
to fill these gaps,
leaving me to drown in my own bemusement,
lost in an ocean of emotion.
Thank God there have been lifeguards
watching these waters,
trying to rescue me from my madness,
no matter how much I might thrash.
I just hope I don't drag them down
into the murky depths with me
as I sink with my sorrows.

Life: The Full Experience

Giving It Your All

I watch as folks
slump past,
head down,
eyes closed to the world around them,
shutting out their lives,
living in their eyelids,
where the darkness is safe and comfortable.
There, they create their own worlds,
make things as they wish
and break them without a second glance.
But, when the sun will shine in their eyes,
and they are forced to look around,
they'll be blinded and burned,
torn from their safety blanket
which will burn before them,
the place they knew melting away,
a soothing ice cube that can only last so long.

For a planet with so much to see,
Earth sure has a lot of narrow sighted visitors.
To them, only one thing exists;
the center of their cramped worlds,
which they cling to like a life raft,
when to live they must let go.
Release that safety net,
and reach out instead to the roaring waves,
clasp hands with the water,
join it in it's maddening dance.
Sure, you may get pushed underwater
every now and then,
but the rush,
the flow,
the energy of being alive,
you'll have the chance to feel that.
But if you waste away in a fake existence,
your life will fade with you,
leaving nothing behind but the footprints
where you once stood
playing a game of pretend
that you lost in the end.

Understanding the Hurt

Hurting Heart

To comprehend the heart,
wrenching me from day to day,
tugging my body along like a rag doll,
my body simply a glove
for a greater being.
If I can't make any sense of it,
how can I expect you to?
Still, your words,
though you may not mean it that way,
can sting just as fiercely
as a thousand swords
thrusting into my belly,
rending my actions useless.
Your voice
calls from miles away,
yet it's as if you are here,
my face only inches from yours.
So why do you not see
the grimaces of pain
you etch onto my face?
How can you not hear
the hurt escape from my lips
when you see as nothing more
than a boy,
unable to stand up for himself or
hold his own in the world?
Is this why you left my side,
seeing a baby huddled at your feet
rather than the knight
that gallops through your dreams?
For let me tell you,
I am no sniveling youth,
no child to be chided.
I can show you if I must,
that I can stand tall amid the rest,
a man in his own right,
but why should I
when you've already cast me aside?
Still, the words,
they burn the brands you've left in my side
marking me as your own,
reminding how I am no longer yours,
but just another cow of the herd,
no one of significance to you.

But maybe if I moo loud enough,
you'll remember I'm not just another steer,
but a proud bull,
standing his ground in this harsh pen,
hoping that he can hold on long enough
for a better day to come.

Dusting Off Some Vinyal

Locked Away for a Time

As we dig through
the piles of the past,
we find breathless laughter,
times where music reigned supreme,
memories of problems long gone,
jokes since forgotten,
lives that have moved on.
Where have you all gone
in this wide world of ours?
Have you kept your
lively spirit over the years,
or sacrificed it before
your gods of commerce,
betraying your best friend
on the doorsteps of humanity,
descending into your desk chairs
as the corruption and distaste
spews from your fingertips,
a poisonous spray
spreading with every word you type,
every hand you shake?

Or are you still human?
Do you hold love and life
above all else,
even when the greedy fists
batter at your ankles,
trying to force you to your knees
so that they might pick your pockets
for your cash and contentment?

Do you stand tall
amid the sell outs and stealers,
or have you already
signed on the blood stained line,
forever staining yourself?
I ponder this,
knowing that the answers
have flitted away from my reach
as I let the files fly from my hands
and into the trash bin below.

Insomnia

Insomnia

Sleep escapes me,
a moth just out of reach,
refusing to rest upon my hand
but instead settling on the windowsill,
looking out into the chilling darkness
restless and impatient
for a brighter future to come.
I try calling out,
comforting it with sweet words,
butterflies slipping from my lips,
pouring into the air,
a pitcher of calm
spilling around me,
drenching me in hope.
Yet, the moth doesn't mingle
with these foolish insects,
but slips through the bars
and soars into the haunting sky,
searching for what cannot be caught,
only anticipated.

So I sit alone,
shivering in my own pool of possibilities,
wishing that there was
a clear answer to grab onto
and wipe away the icy fingers
dripping down my back,
up my thigh,
across my cheeks,
through my hair.
They chill me to my core,
sending icicles up and down my spine,
keeping me awake
well past wisdom's hour,
dragging me on until
I simply cannot arise,
my bed becoming a cell,
I frozen to the sheets
in a shuddering sleep.

Words of Encouragement

A Late Night Chat

As we sit
and swap our stories,
tales of hilarity
and suffering,
time falls away,
becoming the relic
of a distant past,
no longer retaining meaning,
as more important things
need be dealt with first.
We reflect on lives
we once knew,
the tough times
that haunt us to this day.
We look back on
the heartache,
the loss,
the hell that was high school,
the friends whom left us for dead,
the bullies that kept us dead for so long,
the injuries we received over the years,
both physical and mental.
We reflected on the friends, family, and females
we loved and lost,
and how we might ever
pick ourselves back up
out of the unbearable black hole.
Yet, in our bonding,
we somehow made our problems
more manageable,
our lives
more bright,
our futures
more hopeful.

We've all been down on our luck
from time to time.
But will you pick yourself up
out of the puddle of emotion,
or lie there,
wasting away until you're
a pruning mess?

Storm of Songs

Not to be confused with the Song of Storms http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLEtFvjILJY&feature=related
This was inspired by my concert last night, when a vicious rain storm could be heard slamming against the room of Foy Hall as I and the rest of the choir sang; a very cool feeling, like nature was singing along with us.

Storm of Songs

Our voices
form a great cloud
in the air above our audience,
sending notes spiraling down
from the ceiling,
drenching the listeners with emotion,
from a light drizzle of happiness
to a raging tempest of fury.
And as the different voice parts
would clash,
great crashes of thunder
would send a shudder
through all
as they were struck by
the power and energy,
electrifying those
who dared embrace it.
And, as our tale came to a close,
the audience reciprocated,
a sudden flash of lightening
blinding us all
as they stood,
small claps of thunder
adjoining with one another,
become a magnificent sound
of its own.

As I listened that night
to nature join us in our tale,
I couldn't help but smile
and raise my voice to heaven,
where God and I
sat and chatted for a while
amid the rushing winds
and cross clouds.

Txt Msg 98% FULL

Not my best work, but hey, it's something
Update: Deleted them. Baby Step #3 complete

Can't Bring Myself to Delete My Past

I hold on to the times
before things spiraled
out of my hands,
clutching it desperately,
wishing for those words
to be spoken again.
But would they mean
the same thing anymore?

I peruse the past,
reading,
remembering,
reminiscing
on a time stolen in the night,
slipped from my pocket
in my sleep.
But they forgot their words,
leaving them strewn
across the floor of my mind.

My finger hovers over the button,
knowing that if I press it,
all the conversations,
the emotions,
the smiles and laughs
will be gone,
leaving me with an empty inbox.

But...
will they be gone?

.... No.
They'll be alive in my heart.
They are what hold me up,
keep me going from day to day.
The hope of salvaging those moments
when the world wasn't so grim,
when there was someone
who understood,
who cared,
who held me close
when the going got hard.

So, for now,
I'll stitch myself together
until I find that again.
I just hope the strings
don't break in the meantime.

Baby Steps

If you read my previous post, I'm sure you recognize that the initial anger and hurt over the situation I find myself in has started to fade, and I'm seeing exactly what I've been doing this whole time.
What a fool I've been, rampaging about like a child, spouting about my feelings without regard for anyone else's.
Well, it's time for me to get my act back in gear. The first step was the previous post, something of an apology if you will. The second step is the following:
So, as of late two older and wiser individuals (when compared to myself; they are not "old" per say) have brought to my attention the possibility of people "taking sides" over how my recent relationship ended. This is an understandable worry, as I have considered the possibility of this happening a few times, but was never really spurred to do anything about it until now.
Frankly, I can't allow anything like that to happen. Look, this sort of thing is between only myself and the other party involved. I know that a lot of my recent posts have been about my emotions over the situation, but that's just it; they are my emotions, not yours. So please don't be swayed to take anyone's side on the matter. One of the few things that frustrate me in life is when someone gets involved in another group of people's issue and end up losing friends because of it, so I will do my all to prevent anything like that from happening now.

As my best friend once told me, baby steps, so that's what I'll do now. Hopefully that will be enough.

Have I... Blown This Out of Proportion?

Have I... Blown This Out of Proportion?

I'm unsure if
I sent of my bombs too soon,
if these explosions have been too strong,
not simply making my point,
but destroying things in the process,
things I may never regain.
That was never my intention,
for the hurt has been extended
far enough at this point.
One cannot heal with more pain,
so why does it feel like
I've simply been spreading it around
until now I've put on too much,
overpowering all the other flavors
that I was wanting to add
to my bitter sweet sandwich?
I plead forgiveness if I've gone too far;
I've never dealt with anything
quite like this before,
and though that is a
weak defense,
it's the only bulwark I have at this point.
So, rather than endanger my remaining defenses,
I will slave away at rebuilding
what we had,
improving upon the original blueprints
in order to create the best design
for the both of us.

Rising From the Ashes

Rising From the Ashes

Our fire,
how it had burned,
roaring at the sun and moon,
a lion of our affections.
Yet, with any dangerous animal,
there was always a chance of getting hurt,
one that neither of us really considered
until we were both scorched,
consuming us,
covering us with scars.
For the longest time
we have been rolling in the ashes,
our flesh peeling and cracking,
our hurt one and the same,
yet different monsters all together,
dragging us in opposite directions.
But now,
kicking and clawing at our captors,
we've both freed ourselves
from these beastly emotions
in hopes of rekindling the flame.
But not as we once have,
but a new sort of pyre,
calm and collected,
a friendly sort of flame
rather than an impassioned one.
Clasping hands with one another,
we rise from the ashes,
looking towards a better future
where are wounds are licked clean
and our scars are not so prominently worn,
but settled comfortably within
these history books of our lives
we call bodies.

ARRRRRRRG... Making Amends

Yes, yes, I know, another post.

Ug.

I find myself unable to sleep because of a simple realization; I don't want to stop this blog. I don't want to stop sharing my life with those whom I love, even if we may be going through rough times as of late, and this thing keeps me relatively sane in a world that generally likes to take a nice shit on me every few months to make sure things don't get too upbeat, even when starting anew at college.

So, yea, I'll keep posting, dry your tears, jump for joy, etc. etc.

I was just in a very dark place in the last post, and I highly doubt this will be the last time I make a similar post like that. I guess every now and then one must put everything they do into question in order to recognize how much it means to them, especially when it's gone.

I hope that none of you leave my life, as you are all very special and close to me in some fashion, giving me a reason to exist in this scary, frustrating, heart-wrenching world. I hope this acts as a tether to hold us all together, even when distanced, either by the world or by our issues, pulling us back together even when the going gets tough.

So I'll be posting again tomorrow. Until then, love and peace.

The Only Option You've Left Me

Goodbye For Now

I've been so focused
on welcoming you into my life,
I hadn't realized
that you've already
kicked me out of yours.
The hinges of my door
are completely rusted,
beyond repair
from waiting for you to return,
waiting for a call that never came,
for the sake of a love that was never there,
or at least didn't matter to you.
Because, if it did,
why would you be trying so fiercely
to get rid of it now?

So I've packed up my bags,
preparing to move on.
You've left me no choice
after all,
for I refuse to be hopelessly
consumed by the tearing pain
ripping my heart open,
searching for my affections
to feast upon.

I had always thought
that you were different from the rest.
I never imagined that you'd end up
on the laundry list of those
who have abandoned me
over the years.
It seems that both you and my thoughts
have fooled me, because,
clearly, I was wrong.

How fitting that this
started with you
and ends with you as well.

Goodbye for now,
until you find yourself
at my doorstep again.
Maybe then
you'll have the courtesy
of not slamming the door
in my face.



If you haven't caught on already, this will be my last post on this blog, at least for a while.
I love you all and wish you the best of luck and hope to see you again soon, perhaps in good spirits. Until then, friends.
Goodbye for now.

The Frustrating Feeling of Abandonment

Left Out to Die

Was I simply
your laundry,
something for you to wear
for a few days,
only to leave me out
on the clothesline
to dry up in the burning heat,
withering into nothing?
I'd like to think not;
I'd like to believe
I was more than some side distraction,
some carnival ride to try out.
But then why does this feeling
of having been used
persist at me
like an angry bee,
stinging me from time to time,
until I'm covered in red marks
that match my eyes,
stained by the fluid pain
pouring out of my face?

I know it's unfair of me
to make such an accusation,
because we had so much more than that.
But, if that was the case,
why did it all have to go away,
leaving me with memories
but no hope for future ones?
Why couldn't we continue
this amazing friendship?
Do you have to disappear
like a ghost of my love's past,
haunting me 'til the end of my days?
Pull the pins away from
my chaffing shoulders
and pull me down of this string,
bring me out of the fiery heat,
even if you choose to never wear me again.
Being able to talk to you will be enough for now.

Running Through My Head and Out the Door

She Ran

She walked into my life,
a shining hope in a dreary world,
someone whom I could count on,
who was there,
who understood me
unlike anyone else could claim to.
And now she runs out,
tears running down her face,
unable to look me in the eye.
I chase after her,
pleading that she need not go,
praying to God that this is
some sort of nightmare,
that this wound opening
in my heart
is simply a bullet wound
rather than something as fatal as this.
Yet, amid my cries for salvation,
I have tripped,
falling flat on my face.
I try pushing myself to my feet,
but the pain ties me down,
refusing to let go of my aching soul.
Hoping for the impossible,
I pass out, wondering what sort of world
I will awake to.
And, when I get up the following morn,
I find that the pain no longer binds me,
but has begun its consumption,
fitting snugly on me,
a jacket of despair.
As I stand,
I see that the door is open,
just as you left it when you tore yourself
from my life,
leaving a deep hole in this house.
I go to close the door,
but can't bring myself to,
the air smelling of your lingering sent,
oh so sweet and hopeful.
I hope you find the map
to return to this place one day,
but I can't leave the door open forever,
as others may want to enter one day.
For now, I'll swim in the silhouette you left behind,
a pool of emptiness filling slowly with my tears.

A Reflection on Brevity

Over Before It Started

Foot on the starting line,
I ready myself
for the excitement,
the rush,
the pure energy
that is surging through me,
a thousand volts a second.
Yet, just as I'm about to leap forward
and accomplish the impossible,
it all fades away.
And I'm left standing in a cold, airless box.

Alone.

The cheers of fans
are now mocking cries
echoing in my head,
telling me to succeed
in that which has been
taken away from me.

So now I wait for someone
to pry this prison open
and release me from my misery.
Perhaps then I will persevere,
but for now I will train.
For I will get out,
and when I do,
I'll be ready.

The Immediate Aftermath

Crashed

I struggle to stand,
but the levity
of what just happened
brings me crashing back down
to the hard reality.
I saw this coming from miles away,
staring at it through a telescope,
yet now its close enough
to touch me.
But it doesn't simply
tap my shoulder,
no,
it slams its fist into my face,
sending me spiraling
out of control,
my mind a car wreck.
I try to pick up the pieces,
put it back together,
but the parts are so bent,
I know this will take some time.
I hope that one day
I will find some help to rebuild this,
so that I can again fly down the highway
with high hopes for a future worth living in.

My Beating Heart Hammers

Heart's Beats

The notes flow through me,
the beat pumping through my veins,
the stanzas of my life,
keeping the song in check
so that it may continue to play.
My drum keeps the rhythm
while the rest of the orchestra
do their jobs;
my trumpets blare,
yearning to be heard by those listeners
who take the time to listen.
My piano guides me through
the hard times,
playing real slow
so I can keep up
as I stumble past all my hurts.
My violins push me forward,
encouraging me to take a chance,
a leap,
a stand,
and lead those close to me
when need be.
My bass keeps me firmly planted in reality,
making me aware of the hard truths
that sit in the back of my mind,
yet I refuse to see.
And all the while,
my conductor stands bold and unflinching,
hands raised in anticipation
of the next note life decides to place
in front of me,
pointing the way with that dancing baton,
doing its best to keep us all on track
until the piece concludes
with a magnificent symphony.

To Write Away the Hurt

I wrote four pieces today, two before and two after a very difficult phone call. I'll be posting them in order of my writing them.

Dead Air

The silence fills the room
with a choking sensation,
a toxic smog
impairing our views
of each other.
I try to breath
some life into the air,
but CPR can do nothing
for this corpse,
dead too long
for any means
of resuscitation.
If only it would
let us be
and dissipate,
perhaps bother
some other perishing souls,
yet how is one
to bury that which
you cannot touch?
Well, I'll find a way.
I'm unsure how,
but it's about time
this amorphous elephant
in the room
was herded back
to the dreadful zoo
it came from.
But the only way
I can do that
is if you hold the gate
open for me.
I pray you don't
instead choose
to chain it shut,
for I have no space
in my life for the dead,
as they have already
moved on with their lives.

Through the dust and smoke,
I reach for your hand.
Quick, take it,
before either of us
become lost
in the fog of time.

Eating At You

Eating At You

A single thought
formed in your brain;
a small thing,
so precarious and brief.
Yet, somehow,
it finds a way
to grab hold of your mind,
finding a nice ridge
to latch onto for dear life.
And here is where it grows,
spreading like a virus,
trampling all other logic
in favor of absurdities
and worry.

Soon, it's ten feet tall and
standing in a seven foot room,
pushing and shoving
in order to continue its current lifestyle,
forcing its presence onto
its owner.
But, much to its dismay,
the thought finds
that it has driven its host
perfectly mad,
sending him into a frenzy
of anxiety.
So, milking the last
dregs of energy
from this weary brain,
the thought packs its bags
and prepares to move on,
but lingers just a moment too long,
for a sudden hope shines
through those twin windows
it always enjoyed looking out of.
And, with this new strength and tenacity,
the brain shoves the thought from it
into the fiery abyss of the forgotten.

The problem with thoughts, though,
is that some don't stay dead forever.

A Damn Hot Day

Sahara

Sunlight beats down

on my back,

shoving me forward

through the blinding light,

throwing me down

on my hands and knees.

I try looking up,

but am met by the vicious sun,

which slaps my eyes away,

sending my sight sprawling.

Sweat trickles

across my back,

icy claws ripping

away the sheets of heat

that have melted into me,

attempting to feast on my flesh,

a fiery leech

burning away at my energy.

Yet, for every layer

that is torn away,

three more appear

to take its place,

a hot-blooded hydra

sinking its fangs

into my skin,

clutching feverishly

to my face,

flushed red with fatigue.

Eyes glazed over,

I struggle to me feet,

only to have them

knocked out from

underneath me,

the pavement greeting me

like a scorned friend;

angrily, but with a degree

of respect,

bringing us both down

to the same level.

The Last One For the Night, I'm Thinking

Seeing as it's 1:37 and I still have actual work to be done, I think this'll be the last post of the night.
This piece I wrote my senior year as well, specifically for a short story contest; write a story using under 200 words. I didn't win, but am still very proud of what came of it. I hope you enjoy, and goodnight!
P.S. This one doesn't have a title


Eyes. Bright, shining out from the darkness. Anticipating. Awaiting the moment, the instance of motion. And as the shuddering ceased, the bright green opals flashed, and disappeared. The pattering feet screamed "I want frenzy", yet the silence took it over, stifling out such a foolish trifle. Never again could he feel the helter skelter of the crowds, the weeping and laughing, clashing as waves do against the shore, flowing ceaselessly between two extremes. The journey would be long and hard, but never could it be harder than remaining, leaving behind his emotions to perish as it followed his ambitions into the endless desert. No, he would pursue his passion to the bitter end into the wastelands of the unknown. But would he ever discover what remained at the end, or would his mind's eye drift into the infinite darkness of wonder?

Something Tells Me I Wasn't a Fan of Senior Year...

I remember pretty vividly writing this one, as it was roughly a year and a half ago and one of the only pieces I wrote my senior year of high school, aka the dark days. I was not a fan of senior year, as this poem will surely tell you.
P.S. for the record, I hate nobody, as I find that to be unfair, as everyone has a redeeming quality or positive attribute. The term being used in the context of this piece was utilized simply for effect.


Senior Year

Walking through the door day one,
you're already ready to leave forever
as you look into the weary faces
you've seen year after year,
those you know like the back of your hand
and hate for it.

Fake smiles are given out
like pamphlets for a shitty sale,
one that even the owners grimace
upon contemplation.

Teachers try to befriend you,
students becoming their decomposers,
breaking down the convoluted lessons,
smelling of incompetence and ineptitude.

Your peers, ever-changing,
morphing to benefit themselves
at every turn,
your friend one moment,
pretentious bastard the next.

Girls gaggle,
boys chortle,
we're all the same,
yet we push so fiercely
to neglect and shun one another,
persecuting all
until you're the only one left.
And what is there to do then
but wallow and complain
in the absence of others
to bully, push, hit, criticize, and destroy
from the inside out
until nothing is left
but the hollow cocoon of what they once were,
now reborn into a grotesque monster
you no longer recognize
yet you created, formed
from your own prejudice and hatred,
pale and alone, all joy and confidence long gone,
sucked into the void of desperation, hopelessness,
all ambitions having ran at the first sound of gunfire.
And in doing this, you too have become
this mottled, disgusting thing,
living yet dead,
moving but no longer moved,
the silent proclamation that the end is nigh.
Yet nothing can be done to stop its desolate march
until the day it reaches you
and you welcome it with open arms,
for now it is the only friend you have,
the only one who will accept you
when you had shunned so many away.
Thus ends innocence, love, and life.
Thus ends senior year.

Let's Do the Time Warp!

Moving backward, we head towards my last year as a camper at Johnsonburg Presbyterian camp prior to my summer of LT training. Now, being a goofy kid, I wrote a lot of my pieces A. about war and fighting and B. in a simple A-B-A-B rhyming scheme. However, for whatever reason this piece stood out to me, specifically b/c of the sound of it as I read through, seeming to flow pretty well, perhaps because of the different A-A-B-B rhyme scheme. It doesn't really have any solid meaning or moral behind it, it's just kinda fun.
This one feels very fragmented, unlike the last two. For, those all of these have a poetic structure, they were all meant to be songs upon the initial scripting of them. I've formatted them a little bit to fit a more poetic style and so they make sense, but this one, even in it's original form, still feels a little awkward (perhaps because of my attempts to talk as a gangster?). For the most part, wherever there is a break other than the first two, that is where the chorus was supposed to go, the chorus being the second stanza. So, yea, I apologize for the poor craftsmanship, terminology, and the gruesome imagery... why am I sharing this again???


Fatal Swoop

Flames roarin',
cries soarin',
there ain't nothin' sleepin' soundly tonight.
People dyin',
birds sighin',
as they hear men drawing their last breath.

Death, doom and destruction,
the three d's that make our world a grave.
Fellahs fallin' left and right,
not a living soul in sight.
You're all alone
in your own personal hell,
and all it takes...
is one fatal swoop.

Crows cawin',
the clawin'
at their freshly killed prey.
Those who are alive
lickin' their wounds
barely survivin',
are balancing on the tip of the iceberg,
the edge of the cliff,
the tightrope that is life,
and they're startin' to fall.

Flesh partin' from bone,
the ring of painful groans,
people cryin', lyin' tryin'
to live for just one more day.

The world, oh how cruel,
the Devil tryin' to rule,
and I rue the day he does.
Though as long as we groan,
as long as we cry,
as long as we fight
for the morals we live by,
there ain't nothin' that bitch can do.
So let's fight on, yeah,
let's fight on.

But let's block that swoop rather than take it,
instead we'll work together
'til the ground's not soaked red, yeah.

That Other Poem from Tenth Grade

This poem is primarily why I think these two poems are from tenth grade (I found them both in a notebook). This poem speaks out to how much trouble I was having being unable to get along with one of my friend's girlfriends (specifically whom I thought was my best friend at the time, but was sorely wrong), to the point that I could hardly talk to her at all. So, like any teenager, I vented my frustration through poetry.

Not only do I vent about that, but also about feeling like my friend was kinda upstaging me in the sense that he was so successful while I was in a dark place (essentially of all of high school) where I didn't know that I amounted to much of anything as a person.

My Best Friend's Girlfriend

If you thought it was hard to relate

to all the other girls at school,

well just wait 'til your best friend's dating one,

then you'll feel the full throttle

taste of pure venison

of having no idea what the hell

girls want from you.

So it's official,

the two are going out.

Some high-fives and backslapping

between the dudes in congratulations.

So now it's time to see this chick,

and you realize, "Hey, I know her,

we used to work together in 6th grade,

so we'll do fine talking together."

.... Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhhh.....

I couldn't have been more wromg.

Maybe I was high off the fumes of loyalty,

being proud of how well my friend's doing

while I'm still that kid who hardly amounts

to anything anymore.

And it seems to take a while

for her to see that.

But, once she does,

her mood becomes unpredictable.

We're joking around, having a great old time,

you say one thing,

teasing one of the guys,

and all of a sudden,

you think you've lost your hearing,

the ringing of her yells

echoing in your ears.

I didn't even think they were

all that close.

I wasn't even the one

to tell the joke.

But, you know,

guess it's just my screwed up luck

that's gotten me in this hellhole

where I am today.

Like I didn't have enough problems

in class or at home,

but now I can hardly nod

towards my best friend

without butting heads with her.

I can't see why we can't get along.

I don't know if it's what I'm saying,

all I know is

I'm running out of things to say.

So I guess I'll just recap

before I give up this hopeless chase

for an answer, a hint, the smallest of clues

of what girls look for in not just a boyfriend,

but in a boyfriend's friend as well:

If you thought it was hard to relate

to all the other girls at school,

well just wait 'til your best friend's dating one,

then you'll feel the full throttle

taste of pure venison

of having no idea what the hell

girls want from you.

Sleep Alludes Me

Because I can't seem to catch any Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs, I've decided to explore my backlog of works to find some old pieces I've written to share.
I am actually quite surprised with the quality of some of these pieces, both in a positive and negative fashion (I won't be sharing any of the negatively surprising ones, obviously)
So, let's start us off with a couple of pieces from what I believe to be tenth grade!
The first of these two really shows the development of my personal belief on love that holds true to this day. This specifically touches on my belief that if you truly love someone, you want them to be happy, whatever that may mean, even if it hurts you in the end.
This directly contrasts to the start of the poem, where I explain how most guys tend to look at girls, in a fashion that I found and still find to be absurd and shallow, not seeing past a first glance to the people inside.
Overall, I see this piece to be fairly flawed, both grammatically and the perspective I had at the time, but I felt I should share this, as it marks the point where I developed one of the most important philosophies I have today (see the above explanation on my thoughts on love).


To: Guys, From: Love

You see us guys
walkin' up and down the halls
starin' at every girl that we come across.
You know it,
I know it,
so I don't know why we try to deny it.
We're like piranhas
stalking our prey
wonderin' who will catch our eye
at any second of the day.
Numbers will fly
as we rate one chick or another,
3, 4, 7.
Holy crap, did you see those boobs?
Well, you get the idea.

But us guys,
we don't really get
what makes love what it is.
We don't seem to understand
exactly what makes us tick.
So when we see that girl
that you know is the one
making out with that other guy
that you're sure isn't right for her,
you get that feeling down in the pit of you're stomach
and the next thing you know that two of you are on the ground,
one hell of a battle royale being fought
over that amazing girl.

But, you see,
love isn't looks or smarts
nor any of those other stuff
that shrinks will tell you.
Nor will you find the answer
in any crystal ball, no.
Love is truly when you give into your feelings for someone else
and you give you're all to make sure she will always be happy.
Even if that means
she's with someone else.
And it will rip you to shreds.
I know, I've been there.
But you know it will be worth it in the end.
So next time you see her walking up and down the hall,
talk to her, get to know her,
and before you know it, you might just have yourself a date.
Just make sure she is happy.

What... What Am I Doing?

Trapped in a Cell of My Own Making

The world
it seems to escape
my understanding
these days,
providing the answers
one day,
only to raise more
the next,
trapping me in a cornfield
of spoiling crops.
Will I pick them
and try and clean them off,
saving the delicious
vittles beneath,
or shall they rot
under the blazing sun,
disintegrating to
a confusing mess?

Cross legged,
I meditate
in a sea of tan,
my mind working
around the stems,
through the leaves,
up the fields,
searching for clarification,
yet more and more
grain spring up,
cutting off my path
with the lithe
of a complex query,
standing tall with pride
that it could so successfully
cease my progress.
And as I scowl,
it simply grows loftier,
catching me in its umbrage,
shackling me in its shadow.

I've sat in this prison before,
the chains tearing at my heart,
ripping at its vessel.
And, somehow,
I've found a few keys,
being forced to choose
which to make my escape with,
unsure of the outcome.
Yet now,
the guards have me pinned
to the bars with their lances,
prodding at me
with japes and weapons alike,
watching me squirm and scream
beneath the pressure and pain,
cackling all the while.
I tried to kick back once or twice,
only to crash back to the cold floor,
pools of pain filling in the cracks
of my hateful cell,
strengthening it with my own hurts.

So,
how is one to break out
of a jail that feeds
off your own sorrow?
Simply stop feeling anymore,
of flood the halls
with waves of coarse,
harsh emotion?

A Gritty Loss

Lost to the Land

A piece of me was lost today
in the desert of the ordinary,
mixed into the amorphous earth.
I scrambled amid the sand,
grains of the rough, grinding
grains running through my fingers,
struggling to slip out of my grasp.
And as I lied on my hands and knees,
digging through the recesses
of the world I hold dear to me,
instead of finding what has been lost,
I discovered something new;
a realization.
The recognition that
I never lost anything,
simply a symbol of what
is still out there,
waiting for me.
So I will let you go,
emblem of my heart,
among the swirling oceans
of the commonplace
and focus rather on
riding the waves
that will reunite me
with the extraordinary
that has left its mark
on my heart.

Oh, the Irony

So, I was planning on posting this last night but, ironically, I fell asleep before I could (you'll see the irony in a moment, don't fret)


Exhausted

I sit up
again and again,
looking to the sky
as the stars pass by
time slides on
across the line of time
and dragging me with it
to a place more sublime
when it all comes together,
light shining down from above,
illuminating the few moments
when we can show our love,
complete for a change
one whole picture
rather than skewed puzzle pieces
without a solid fixture.
I push myself to the limit,
not allowing sleep
until I simply cannot keep
awake, crumpling in a heap.
But, even so,
just before I pass out
your sent reminds me
of just what I am without
yet, all the same I smile
at the thought of your face,
knowing I'll reach you
once I finish this race.

Light Headed

Light Headed

I stumble from place to place,
glancing about, as if
all of this is new to me,
my routine the abnormal,
dis-interesting,
a bland taste lingering
in my gut,
where it stews and broils,
a witch's pot curdling
my innards.
Blankly, I ponder
the moment at hand,
only to realize
it passed me by
but three minutes ago,
leaving me in the temporal dust
and falter with the graying memories
and lost souls
of remote times.
And, as I attempt to
claw my way back
to time's surface,
something grabs hold of my leg,
pulling me back down
to a place
where my heart lingers,
warming its feet
by the excitement
that radiates from this instant,
chained in time,
never to be lost to me.
But, will I lose myself in it
if I allow myself to remain
too long?

Uncertainty tugs me
back and forth,
a vicious seesaw
threatening to
tear me in half.

A Good Kind of Cry, For a Change

Alrighty, rant 2 of the epic Heart's Beats Blog!
So, I cried yesterday. It's weird to think about, as yesterday was part two of the best time I've ever had with someone; my new girlfriend.
Wow. It's amazing to think about her that way. As my girlfriend, and not just that amazing girl who I love so much. I couldn't help myself from saying "Wow" every now and then. I guess it was my little way of showing her how much I care about her, how wonderful she is as a person, just how fantastic I find our relationship to be.
I'm sure a lot of you are wondering why I was crying is everything was oh so perfect with the world. Well, I don't think I, at any point, prepared myself for the inevitable; her eventually having to leave. Don't get me wrong, I knew it was coming. It was something I accepted long ago before I allowed myself to contemplate being in a dating relationship with her. Still, it hurt to have to see her leave, knowing that the next chance I would have to see her was a month from that date.
So I cried. Three times, actually. Once in front of her, despite myself. I didn't want to have her see me crying, knowing that it was cause her pain seeing me hurt. And if there's one thing I never want to do, it's hurt her. The second time was soon after she left, when I went up to my friend Eugene's room to just hang out and distract myself for a bit. But, from the moment I walked into his room, I felt the wave of emotion hit me in the gut again. He held me as I cried for a few minutes. He was a really great friend, having been in a similar situation once. He was really there for me when I honestly didn't expect it, and for that I am incredibly grateful to him. The third and final time was that night. I can hardly count it, as it was only a few tears. But what really made it stand out in my mind was the fact that I cried in front of a group of people. This struck me as very strange, as it has been a while since I've been able to cry with multiple people present, besides at the end of a summer working at Johnsonburg Presbyterian Camp. That's always been a very emotional time for me, not knowing when I would next be able to see many of my closest friends. So, it makes sense that I would have a similar reaction.
And I've realized that this crying has been good, nay, excellent. I used to cry a lot as a kid, but as I grew older, I found myself unable to, even when wanting to. So I see that me crying shows how much I care for her, and how much I look forward to seeing her again. So, I invite the tears to pour; let me show you just how much I care. I can't wait for when we meet again, love, for nothing compares to simply sitting beside you quietly, with your head on my shoulder, listening to each other's breaths and heartbeats, our love personified in the purity of the moments we share together.

An Indescribable Love

My True Love Lingers

Her scent lingers
following me like
the spectral tail
of a soul that has
imprinted itself upon me,
becoming a part of me.
As I breath in,
I feel your
silky soft hair
run through my fingers
as I brush it from your face
so I can plant
a tender kiss
upon your cheek,
allowing for my love
to grow and flourish
from it.

I hold the piece of you
that was left behind with me
tightly to my heart.
I kiss it,
feeling your own soft lips
caressing my own
again and again,
you passion spilling
into my own mouth,
filling my soul
with an incomparable love,
causing food and drink
to no longer be
a necessity for survival.

As you beat against
my leg,
bouncing in my pocket,
I'm reminded of
your beating heart,
so kind and lovely,
pressed against my own
in an embrace
that rivaled
the eternal cuddle
between sky and land.

As I look into the sea,
I am reminded of your eyes,
electrifyingly beautiful,
sending a shuddering energy
coursing through my chest
every time gazes connected.
I wait impatiently
to dive back into
those pools of affection,
swimming in them
for as long as time allows.

The Night Before the Dawn

The Night Before the Dawn

Shaken from slumber,
I toss and turn
in hopes of spinning
the Earth
so tomorrow
might come sooner.
For, that is when
your strong light
breaks through
the dreary clouds
of the commonplace,
illuminating my life
with your brilliant
radiance.
Hurry!
My heart burns
with anticipation,
and has begun
to consume my body,
for our love
is stronger than
these fleshy prisons
we are contained in,
sending us on
a spiritual journey
beyond our own beings,
 but to a place where
we are one and the same,
yet separate entities
at the same time.
We flit in and out
of each other's souls,
trying to grow ever closer
to each other.

I awake with a smile,
knowing the beauty
the day brings.

A Little Life

A Little Life

So small,
delicate,
a squirming
bundle of joy.
The noises,
bright and
meaningless,
vibrate from
person to
person,
smiles
sprouting
from their
mouths,
warm lilies
grown from
love and care.
There's
nothing
quite like
holding a
little life,
as life
only remains
little for so
long,
before it
blossoms
into a fully
grown person,
spreading it's
petals to the
other flora,
and, eventually,
the occasionally
bee,
searching for
some honey
to call it's own.
So treasure
this time
while it lasts,
as life waits
for no one.

The Film That Took Me By Surprise

I need to stop trying to be a movie critic.
For the longest time, I thought that being a film critic would be a great idea, as I am a somewhat opinionated person who enjoys sharing his thoughts on films. The problem is that this thought process has led me to simply denounce some great films for the sole purpose of their existence. Sure, I'm not going to want to see the Candyland film that is being made, but there are some films that, though they may be poorly scored, should be given a chance. Just look at "We Bought a Zoo", a flick that I was almost determined not to enjoy from the moment I realized that I was going to have to watch it. Having a general aversion to "based on a true story" films, I was prepared for the worst. And, though it wasn't a mind-blowing experience, it sure was touching and, in an emotional way, made me look at the world differently, if only for a moment.
And it scared me.
See, one of the main focuses of the film, beyond the whole zoo part, is the fact that our main character's wife died only a few months prior to the events of the movie. This, though a somewhat cliched plot point, really seemed to reach out and touch me in a way I never expected. It could be that the film just did a really good job at playing the guitar with my heartstrings, or perhaps some recent events have caused me to see things differently. Probably it was a little of both. But, the fact of the matter is that the thought of ever losing you (you know who you are) to something like a disease, where I can do absolutely nothing to help you, save you, protect you... is utterly horrifying. I'm honestly unsure of what I would or could do in a situation such as that, other than that I would stand by your side until the end. But I hope that the end doesn't come for a very long time for you. Because you have so much to offer the world, and the world has a decent amount to offer you too.
Definitely take the time to see this film, it's overall a pretty good one (metacritc gave it a 52, but I can't say I really care all that much anymore).


Cold Hands

I hold you close,
trying to transport
my well-being into you,
hoping the sickness
steals itself from your body
and takes on
this healthy skin of mine.
For I could not
imagine a world
without you in it
anymore.
Such a place would
be dark and dank,
a gloomy cavern
devoid of heart or hope.
And even if
people could survive
in such a desolate estate,
their hearts will have
shriveled up
to escape the shackles
of such a callous prison.

Your hands
chill me to the bone,
yet I hold on,
for your charm,
your love,
and your life
are what keeps me
warm and alive inside.

Life is Fantastic

The title of this blog has never been more appropriate than right now. I have a date with the most amazing girl in the world, and I feel like I'm on top of the world.


The Light of My Life

My love for you
has expanded
beyond the confines
of this simple body,
reaching places
I will never see,
searching you out
amid the gray world
we trudge through
so that we can
delight in the company
of one another,
if only for a moment.
And those moments,
how they last for ages,
as we hold one another,
clinging desperately
to the astounding passion
that we've found.
I cherish these times,
holding them close to me,
filling the barren void,
that has for so long
eaten away at my insides,
with an irreplaceable
amour that illuminates my days
with the hope
of a world
in which we will never
be separated.

Our whispers
cut through the darkness,
making room for
our incandescent rapture
to kindle and flourish.

That Moment

That Moment

When inertia
rushes through your body,
sending a surge
from  the tips of your hair
to the edges of your toenails.
Your body has tensed
with surprise and shock,
an unbidden smile
creeps upon your face,
marking the moment
in your mind
forever.
The moment
when everything
fell into place,
a fantastic game
of Tetris,
when victory is at hand.
All you need to do
is drop the last piece,
for you already know
that it will fit.
Yet, for whatever reason,
you are still scared,
and I can see why.
But, fret not,
for though
all these battles
have led up to
this moment,
the battle
is already won.

The door is open,
just as it always has been.
All you need to do now
is step inside
out of the cold
and into
my warm arms.

High Above the World

A grand ol' tree climbing adventure! Huzah!


High Above the World

I search frantically
for a foothold,
somewhere to begin
before you get too high
for me to reach.
A knot in sight,
I pull up
with all my might,
praying the next branch
will hold me.
But with you there
by my side,
I feel no worry,
no pain,
only hope
for what's beyond
the next bough.
Our laughter
pulls us higher and higher
until, alas, there is no more tree
only triumphant sky,
the great sea above,
crying out for us
to swim in it's majesty.

We answer the call,
letting reality
yank us back down
before we lose ourselves
amid the clouds of wonder.

Soaking Wet

A reflection on showers.


Soaking Wet

Standing in the shower,
I close my eyes
pretending that it is you
caressing my body,
clinging to my skin,
warming me
with love and comfort.
We whisper softly
to each other
of a better place,
where we never need
to be separated again.
Yet, when I open my eyes,
I see you've slipped through my fingers
once again,
dripping further and further away
down the drain and out of sight.
Will I ever get to see you again,
or will my skin prune
and burn into nothing
as I await among
the crowds of droplets,
pooling with my tears
of loneliness
in this harsh, damp world?

I anticipate
when we meet again,
our warmth will mingle,
creating a sauna of tenderness
for us to bathe in
for those brief moments
when our passion can flourish.

Cracked

Inspired by my friends Eli and Shawn

Cracked

In life,

one is given only so many eggs

Precious white spheres,

signs of hope

caught in a dreary, dark world,

they promise a hope

beyond imagining.

For years I have waited,

wondering if these

little shells of life

would ever be put to use.

When, suddenly,

I found myself

shoving them all into

one basket.

Cramming them within

to ensure that they fit,

I smiled proudly at my handiwork.

Yet now I shudder with fear,

wondering if the basket will fall,

breaking the orbs of dreams

and cracking me eternally.

So, on the morrow

I plan to spread my eggs

to a few others.

For, though there are only a few I can trust,

hopefully one day

more eager faces will appear beside me,

happy to bare my burden,

as I will theirs.

Expect the Unexpected

I've been learning to embrace these moments, and really appreciate them for the amazing times they are, as these are what have composed both today and last Friday for me.


Expect the Unexpected

Anticipate those moments
when rhinos rip through your ceiling.
Await the dance
that turns into something more.
See that instance
when your world
is turned on it's side.
Expect the unexpected
and embrace it
when it decides to meet you.
Hug it like your brother,
and welcome it into your company.
Allow it to mingle with your friends,
join you for the holidays,
or simply jump out of the bushes
as you walk past,
catching you off guard.
And later
the two of you with guffaw
at the witty prank it pulled,
even though,
at that moment,
you could have throttled it
for scaring you so profusely.
And, at the end of the day,
you'll smile at the thought
of it taking you under its wing
and showing you
a world you never knew.

Enjoy the unexpected while it lasts
because you never know
when it will rear its head again,
sinking its teeth into you
and seeing what you'll do.