Sunday, May 15, 2011
Of Saints and Sailors
But stay and hear
The flowing silver robes
That lady moon spins
You don them gingerly, then
Look up at me with fearful doe eyes
Love is an adventure
To be taken on with silvery sword and silent shield
And at times a silent singing massacre of hearts
But so glorious as the blood makes the soil loamy
With one faint cry
Suddenly, the river is dry
Who wants to be slaughtered like lambs?
No?
Then harden your hearts
And become your own hero
Love is a journey
Not for the faint of heart
For you'll trod upon the bodies
Of the ghosts of your past
And you'll warm yourself under the furs
Of the demons in your head
Entertain not your eye for beauty,
But your eye for bravery
FORGET LOVE, MAN!
I'm sure all young girls have wanted their prince charming to come and love them like Cinderella, Snow White, or Rapunzel. As we grow up, we want our prince charming (metaphorically so) to rescue us from all the hatred of the world and give us the true love and real friendship we crave. But movies have screwed us up so badly. I love Tangled, Beauty and the Beast, and any other given Disney princess flick as much as the next girl, but I've only recently realized that you cannot expect men to be prince charming. It's just not a realistic expectation. And honestly, how badly do you want to wait years and years for your hero to rescue you? I'll tell you what I think: don't wait. Ladies, it is time for us to be our own heroes.
"The deer would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs."
Don't move"
Even the deer outside
With their pretty antlers
And pretty, skinny legs
Are frozen, the water still
Caught up in their mouths
Still as the grave
Which is a funny saying
Because even graves are not still
There's always worms and beetles and
Those little white worms
Maggots....
Feeding on the flesh of the dead, in that decomposing
Box of flimsy black wood
But no...
Even the grave is still today
And you are frozen in mid sentence
With your pretty blue eyes
And your pretty, skinny arms
They call me a deer
Cautious, careful
Spacey and doe-eyed
I hope that means I have
Pretty, skinny legs
But then I'd be caught there
With water falling from my mouth
But I'm not
I can move around
So I twirl, and I dance
Because there's music playing in my head
This frozen silence is so devastating
My brain rings and chimes and trumpets call...
The world cannot be without music!
The musicians pretty instruments
And their pretty, skinny fingers
Frozen on their buttons, eyes glued to a single note
Crawling across a stark white page
"FREEZE
I SAID DON'T MOVE!"
But I can move
I twirl
To the music in my head
I point right down the barrel of the sleek black gun
And the bullet stops in mid air
With the water in the deer's mouths
And the fingers on the buttons
And your pretty blue eyed stare
"FREE-"
"Don't move." I reply
BANG
Time slows to a crawl
I hit the ground
There is just so much red...
Frozen on the clean white smock
Yet spreading its wings like a butterfly
"I said don't move."
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Kids
However, he displays adulthood in this chapter by judging the blond woman.
Yes, judging.
I believe adults judge people more frequently as they mature, but they learn not to voice it.
This is displayed in these chapters.
Now, a poem. I shouldn't go a post without a poem, but I have. Sorry, guys.
Kids
See now you tell me
Now you reveal
That my concert khakis
Cant be teal
And my novels cant be written in class
And I can't do anything but simply pass
The candy, toy, the ice cream shop
Yes the pretend days
The flimsy tales
Are nothing but history
With my trials and fails
But history seems to repeat itself
Even though my toys gather dust on the shelf
The ghosts of my past
They devour my dreams
But I must swallow the blood
I must swallow the screams
Put on a tie
Put on a suit
Staple my papers
Polish my flute
So much work!
So much it hurts!
But no, here
I must move on
I can't become Holden
A man made of cons
Mature?
No offense, guys.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
After Chapter 6...
Thanks for reading!
Sympathetic
Those are my thoughts on Holden's thought process.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
First Impressions
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Question Number 4
Grown Ups
So here’s a little girl
She smiles and she laughs at your dumb
Little jokes like little lambs
Lullaby, lullaby
Of the boy bands that she loves
She’s a freshman
With kites and summer breezes
She dreams of her prince charming
Saving her from her reveries
She’ll lean her head to one side and smile
But her eyes are like a doll’s
Glassy
As she stares off at the stone castle
Off in the distance
So far you can’t see it
You can’t see it
You know why?
Neither do I
What’s she looking at?
Why does she smile so?
Like a little pink rose bloomed
On her pale face
All of the sudden.
Children
Prim, proper
Come now, be reasonable
You can’t run a business
With singing and dancing
You can’t win in the world
With a paintbrush and pen
Crisp
Say it with me
CRISP! CLEAN!
Adjust your tie
Smooth your taught skirts
Keep calm, carry on
This is why you’re here.
Grow up
BUT I DON’T WANNA!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
My Favorite Color Is Green
When he laughs, they curve UP like a crescent moon
When he's sad, they are glossy like a doll's eyes
And ever so big
Green is the moss under our feet
I dreamed of shared blackberry ice cream
And laughs made of summer breeze
Drowned in apricot sky
Green is the Celtic knots I drew
Locked away, locked away
From our adventures, I was locked away
Until I cried