13 02 2007

[ A Salted Sea ]

The stones we throw into the air come down on our heads
Splitting us open, a make-believe sea
Of blood and misery, let’s not make this worse
By binding ourselves, girl, this is no story for the children
Oh, bitter companion, don’t quote me a line
Too many tries, too many flexible lies …
Time will come and pardon you surely
Imagine what you might have done
If you could have loved, or if I’d gotten lost
A blind animal captured and struck.

Born to see everything as love, you were a girl
Promising what lives beyond our reach,
Bury your head under your shroud,
Keep those eyes averted because
The world does not give in for a dime
Some fraction of life, this is a last kiss girl,
Go forth through the land and be someone’s bride

[ Throw Stones ]

I’m only an animal crawling through the world
I don’t pretend to love anymore, such a lie, you see
Should not be made so arbitrarily

[ On my small wooden craft ]

i could not, for all the seas around me, find you
until of course, it was too late

[ Intro to Social Analysis ]

I was a dream and you were a part of me,
And when you left, there was nothing
And I could not help but wake up.

[ Like grains of sand ]

I was once capable of writing
And writing well.

It seems I have lost my skill
And instead turned to age,
To watch talent erode
And love aglow
Such is the suffering
Of the once-talented.

A beautiful self-pitying lament,
Just to moan about
The loss of what I’d got
A cry about being talented.

[ a petal dancer ]

A petal falls to die
Wither, crumple like me,
An impression upon a day
To pass under your sight
Quietly like a depression
Or a burdened girl’s lies
That I might paint lavender
If I only cared as much,
While that petal turns to the ground,
To dance or cry upon her beaten shore,
Blossomed once.

So This is the New Year

13 02 2007

While over the last year I’ve developed a sort of habit of writing essays, poems, and most notably (at least in my opinion) short stories, I’ve decided to pursue a more even bent between that and the standard “this-is-life” blog. In short, this is going to get a lot less literary, a lot less formal.

Nonetheless, I would like to maintain somewhat of a professional veneer; rather than babble on like a schoolboy with candy about the iPhone, I’ll critique it saying I like its style, elegance, but due to screen limitations won’t work as an internet device and because of its small memory capacity (4gb) isn’t enough to replace my iPod. My senior-English teacher Mr. Clemmons wrote about this previously.

Okay, so first, we do have some poems and such, uh to be posted later.

And music, too.

And a music video.