Monthly Archives: June 2011

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Update

I have not had much of an opportunity for any posts lately due to a computer virus :( But I wanted to share the news that my poetry book entitled In The Making is coming right along. All the poems are finished, they just need to be typed, edited and bound. I have some amazing friends who are helping me on this journey with everything from  designing the cover art to setting up photo shoots. I am so thankful to them for their efforts! I don’t have a release date set as of yet but this will be published before the end of 2011! Thank you for being a part of my making! I hope to be back to regular post updates shortly.

I leave you with a random quote from Amber Tamblyns book Bang Ditto, it has nothing to do with this post but I love it!

Your memory is a robbery

Where everyone gets hurt

Everything gets stolen

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It’s a creeper and it sucks…

This is my newest poem, I just wrote it today! I asked my cube mate at work for a topic to write about and she explained a current situation taking place between her friends and prompted me to write about lust, how it’s a creeper and it sucks…so this is for you Crystal :)

A stalker no court order could restrain

Sinking into the thoughts of its prey

Making sure it will have the best view of its corruption.

Thriving off adrenaline heightened heartbeats

And hormones raging riotous.

It is: old man eyes creeping up the thighs of a young skirted girl

And: husbands hand lingering on the back of gorgeous colleague one beat too long

It is: met cute guy at bar-crawl into bed-one night stand

And: I know we’re over but can’t we just do it again one last time? for old times sake

Has teenage son with hand down pants in front of computer screen

And girlfriend buying batteries at midnight

Turns priests into pedophiles and presidents into liars

Friends into experimenters

And places babysitters on trial evidenced by nanny cam

It is betrayal by carnal desire

Disloyalty and dangerous, all encompassing and undeniable

And as someone once told me…it sucks.

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Perfect Latch

You are a broken latch that once belonged to a beauty of a door,

Rusted over

You wouldn’t belong there again if you ever cared to try

I see shadows behind your eyes that you confuse with ghosts

Either way something is haunting them.

Your smile is a broken sea shell most would throw back to the sand

But I place it in my pocket all knowing of its value.

Those shoulders of yours often shrug with an uncertainty

And I long to rub the coco butter of clarity onto them

Wish to whisper into your ear an infinite amount of reasons why you should like yourself.

The palms of our hands should tell stories

Yet every time I find my fingertips tracing your lifes lines I see nothing.

Unlock your palms for me so that I may kiss my way along your love line.

Honey, I am no savior but I will do my best to help you save yourself.

Make it my promise that by the time credits roll I will have won you over like every romantic comedy ever made.

Let me be the ink that will write your dreams true,

Or the pillow you whisper your prayers on as you plead with God to bring just one good nights sleep please,

Let me hold you and not the shell of a man you have turned into.

Don’t be mistaken, I am not here to fix you,

I just want you to know your value.

You may always be nothing other than a broken latch yet,

I want to be the door you belong to

And you will always be my most beautiful addition.

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Made Up

Her foundations concealed,

Mascara masks errors,

And eyes line themselves up to view her shadowed lids,

but they can never find her

cause she’s trapped behind caked on insecurities,

attempting to pass as beauty.

She stands before the looking glass,

hoping to remove any traces of ache

that may have etched themselves onto her

with soft tipped brush strokes

that do nothing but smear her doubts.

there are some blemishes that cannot be covered so easily.

Some scars will not be blended in, yet still she tries.

Paints over her sorrows and

colors in the lines worry has drawn across the contours of her flesh.

Even when she’s alone she likes to be made up,

in an attempt to fool herself into believing

she’s become the person she’s crafted.

Not realizing lips lose luster when they’ve been nervously bitten,

down turned and quivering her lips stick to agony unspoken.

But eyes don’t lie, they leak truths

truths that ruin the work she’s put into disguising herself.

Remain darkened no matter how brightly shaded she tries to make them.

She tries.

Fails every time at constructing a person

Whose as beautiful as she imagines she could be

She tries

Never managing to apply the right amount of confidence

To her eyes

She tries

Always searching for solace to appear in glass,

She only ever sees herself

As broken. damaged.

Wishes for the pain to be covered.

They don’t manufacture the kind of stuff she needs.

No cure in bottle to ease her pains,

she’s unhappy that she has to stare at her flaws.

So boldly shading her eyelids

She wears makeup but she can never make up

The voided spaces within her when she’s denying herself

Pretending her heart won’t be seen if her face

Can stop all in their tracks

She can be just another looker, someone to gaze at

She prefers it that way

Prefers that everyone see only what she puts on

Prefers that she see only what she puts on that day

Cuz her foundations concealed.

Mascara masks errors.

eyes line themselves up to view her shadowed lids

but they can never find her

cause she’s trapped behind caked on insecurities

attempting to pass as beauty.

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Hello Again :)

I must say it is quite hot today, well maybe it’s because in an attempt to be both frugal and environmentally conscious my roommate and I have opted out of turning on the air conditioning. Mainly though, it’s the frugality. Last night I went to the local open mic night hosted by Touch One and was really blown away by a handful of poets I heard. It never ceases to amaze me the way people’s minds can wrap themselves around words in such a breath-taking way.There was so much honesty by some poets and pure silliness from others but that’s why I love going practically every week.

So I have started a new venture, we will see how this goes…I have been writing a Sci-fi/Fantasy novella. I won’t give too many details yet because honestly, who knows how often I may change my mind and alter the plot, just know it is in the works and I am really excited about this!

Since I am a new blogger my posts have been relatively short and somewhat vague but I am hoping to get the chance to sit down and really get into the swing of things soon. There will be pictures and hopefully videos and a lot of cool links for you to check out. Right now though I will leave you with the poem I read last night. I got some good feedback but I would love to hear what you think..good or bad :)

 I think it’s stupid when…

I think its stupid when pregnant 16 year olds are rewarded with publicity masquerading as reality,

What’s so real about having a camera crew follow you as you waddle through high school in your third trimester?

What’s wrong with this world we are in?

Revolving around dramatics,

Thriving off of this weeks episode of stupidity,

Don’t miss the season finale of trollops in training!

Oh how easily we allow ourselves to be brain banged

As often as most of the people on television allowed themselves to be banged for a shot.

I think its stupid when children are spoon fed lackluster.

Told to dream big on the days we feel optimistic,

Told to be realistic the next because someone popped a squat on our hopes.

Oh how we are setting them up for failure with all the false success we bestow upon them.

Sure they’ve got the cutest clothes, the sweetest phone,

They’ve also got reckless abandon tied around their little pinkies

And whose fault is that?

Society right?

If you’ve nodded a yes in agreement to this then there really is no hope and whoever did it was right to pop a squat on yours

Society is no beast untamed, it is leashed and controllable,

Thing is there has to be someone to blame when there is no more effort willed to be given to our misfit youth.

So why not blame the masses as we the let the leash slack?

Better than saying we don’t know how to handle it.

I think its stupid when noggin has more of an educational impact on children then classrooms.

Television has become teacher of the year.

Now teachers are struggling to keep a job that some parents don’t even want to pay for,

Hey, cables cheaper.

In the longer run it seems some will sell the future of humanity for an extra zero on a pay check,

Watching as young minds mold themselves around the equation of a -up arrow x-x-y-down arrow

Thumb prints dented with the memory of the days lesson of leveling up

While dumbing down our future.

I think its stupid when no one remembers how to spell simple words like you…

And your.

Oh, guilty I am for short cutting my mental abilities as well with a quick letter c- letter u- number 2morrow

But I know better, does the youth?

Smart phones spell check for them, heck they even read minds and predict what you want to say before you say it.

Advertisement screaming in bright colors why think when we can do it for you!

I wonder will cursive writing (well, handwriting in general) become one of those things people did back in the old days

Our grandchildren’s grandchildren will marvel at the fact that there ever had to be an instrument held between fingers as we loop up letters to write down what we think, how we feel.

Will it all just be computerized abbreviations?

It’s already begun, the fall of words…

Omg wtf btw… I’m rolling on the floor laughing at the sadness of it all, well not literally because who actually rolls around on the floor after reading a text or email?

Furthermore how many people actually laugh out loud before inputting an lol in a message. Ok, yeah, I’m guilty.

Still, one more thing to add to the list of things I think are stupid.

But hey, no need to listen to me, I don’t know anything about children or educating them

Or raising them to be well-rounded intelligent beings,

I mean I was only a child once, that probably doesn’t qualify me to judge at all,

Then again, maybe that’s all the qualification I need.

The remembrance of what it was like to feel believed in, to feel taught to be raised mentally not by the television but by the teachers.

Maybe kids today, just don’t know how to be kids because we teach them technology, and central air, and spell check.

I hope I get the chance to teach my children about grass stains, and ice cream trucks, and Goosebumps books and keying in memorized phone numbers to dial friends instead of texting to speed dial and recent lists.

I hope I get the chance to teach them about the beauty of reading and importance self-respect, and dignity.

I would love to warn them that selling their soul for a 60 min time slot of their 20 something year old selves slamming shots and kissing strangers on television is not what most of us call the real world.

Then again, I also have most that stupidity recorded to DVR, we’ll just call it research…

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This Nectar…

Hello! Today is a gorgeous day and I am excited to have it to myself! A friend of mine has recently started the Mary Kay business and as a result I just recieved a free color consultation which means my face is gorgeous today :) I am looking forward to the rest of this time I have and maybe I will get some more writing in!

The poem that I am posting today is one of my most recent free writes. I began reading Bang Ditto, a poetry book by Amber Tamblyn who is now one of my favorite poets! I write this to say that her voice is so clear in her poetry. She speaks about things that are not always pretty, feelings that are not easy to speak, and she does it all so brilliantly. It inspired me to not be so gaurded with my writing. I often write poems based on fictional characters and events. Rarely am I truly offering up everything and being completely honest with myself. So I have began delving deeper into my own emotions, experiences and opinions. If you haven’t read any of ambers poetry yet, check out some sample writings on her website at: http://www.amtam.com/about-me/selected-poems

This Nectar

This nectar is not sweet

It is a bitter remedy

It is life over easy running down my thigh

Turned me plastic but I’m no barbie

I’m just a creature of habit

Habitually crawling between his bedsheets

Where we speak in touch, moan and thrust

And he, he bites my tongue

Or so it seems, as I’ve lost all ability to speak

He doesn’t seem to care that the scent of me is the perfume of broken

Doesn’t mind that at times I’m a long distance call away even as he holds me

I think maybe he delights in my inability to be anything other than something to do on a saturday night

And I delight in the lack of need to be anything other than loose enough to mold my insecurities into everything he’s seeking

I am flexible for him

Contorting my self esteem to something more beautifully devastating than a thousand origami swans crumpling 

I slip like sand particles through the cracks in his smile

And do not find surprise in how difficult it is to pick all of my pieces up to return to daylight

My skin has turned to steel

My breath reminds one of doused fire, flames extinguished by admittance of defeat

And my body knows its been weak

Knows its nectar is not sweet but a bitter remedy only temporary

It is life never easy, running down my thigh.

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Getting Started…

Hello all, I have started this blog as a way to share my poetry, essays, short stories and just random thoughts! I hope that I don’t bore you into a stupor :) I will try to update as often as possible but life has a way of being hectic at times.

A little background on me…

1) I am a Poet. I have been writing forever and finally began taking myself seriously in 2009 when I began going religiously to open mic nights and poetry slams. 2) I have been on my city’s poetry slam team for the 2010 season… great experience! 3) I would love to write novels for young adults…as soon as I find a cure for my short attention span. 4) I also compose music and would love to one day become good enough to score films!

So that was a little bit about me, I will share more information about myself in the coming posts. I want to welcome readers  to comment freely on any poem or writing I post whether you like it or not. I hope to inspire or at least motivate whoever comes across this blog. I thank you for paying attention to me! :)

The first poem I am going to share is a poem about Bullycide. This is a very serious topic that is sadly taking the lives of so many young adults and teenagers. At times we may lose sight of the fact that words are dangerous if used the wrong way, hopefully this poem will help everyone to remember to pay attention to the children, kids just being kids can be detrimental to fragile self esteems….

Bullycide is a real word

I have the words slut, freak and ugly tatoo’d to the skin of my inner thighs, in a language that only I can decipher. Really, it’s just a series of lines-slashed and jagged some long some short.

If I’m in a good mood I like to think myself an artist but normally I just think myself a coward for not standing up to the people who tell me everyday how much they hate me just for being alive.

The mirror in the bathroom is shattered. Shards of glass littered the floor last month after I got angry at the red-eyed girl looking back at me, I hate when she looks so weak, so I used a piece of that girls broken image to give myself a new tatoo.

My locker at school is a duller shade of blue than the others surrounding it. That’s because nine weeks ago the janitor had to scrub it twelve times to get the red words whore, skank and lesbo to be visible only when standing directly in front of it. A reminder of who they think I am every time I have to switch books for the next class…three new tattoos  appeared that night on the inside of my left arm.

One year ago I got my first tatoo… after a group of girls from gym class cornered me in the shower, poking and pinching at my bare flesh gawking and giggling. she’s so disgusting, she’ll never have a boyfriend, how could anyone love that? I felt about as big as a bread crumb after that, unable to look anyone in the eye knowing how they all must feel about me.

It was accidental how it all started really. I was home alone and I began to explode, throwing things and calling those girls what I couldn’t day to their faces when I got a paper cut. From a vicious letter tucked into my notebook while I answered question number four on the board that day. At first it hurt so bad I forgot to be mad, I just felt the throbbing of pain. Then it began to feel good, I began to feel good…my first tatoo was the word disgusting.

My teachers often tell me I overreact. Write on progress reports that I am introverted and extremely sensitive. They don’t know how tough I have to be to put up with the daily berating, to live with it.

I heard on the news about a girl, Phoebe Prince fifteen years old, bullied everyday like I am. She was found by her little sister hanging in a stairwell.

Read online about Carl Walker-Hoover and Jaheem Herrera both eleven years old tormented relentlessly, both found by their mothers hanged in their homes at dinner time.

Ty Smalley, a sixth grader, shot himself after being sent home from a fight with a kid who degraded him continuously.

After being harassed mercilessly and even publicly told by a classmate “why don’t you go home and shoot yourself. no one will miss you” seventeen year old Eric Mohat killed himself.

Tyler Clementi college freshman jumped off the george washington bridge. Seth Walsh sixteen shot himself. Asher Brown thirteen hanged himself.

Some days I wonder if I’m next. Will I make myself a headline on the evening news to teach them all the ultimate lesson that words do hurt worse than sticks and stones, in fact words hurt worse than razors against soft flesh, worse than bullets piercing and telephone cords turned nooses around necks.

Thing is, I don’t think it would even matter to them, I’d just be giving them what they want. Yet, like Phoebe and Tyler and every other bullied kid like us out there, no one’s given me a reason not too yet…

Thank you for reading, please come back to visit me soon!