Reflections

My expression indicates a certain level of

thought

inquiry

processing

sadness

energy and serious contemplation

careful inspection

What did they expect me to do?

I'm trying to break the blonde sterotype

Quiet yes, but I sure do know

What is going on

At all times

Aware consciously aware

And ready for anything, to do battle even

What do they expect me to do next?

Taking everything in

Before I speak

Don't let on to the things I know

Keep everything mysterious

Surprise people when I do speak

With my great vocabulary

And thoughtfully chosen sentences

Surprise them. Do something unexpected. What though? It must be something good.

Listening to my teachers

Confirms what everyone thinks of me

Peers the same thing

Helps me learn what do do and when to do it

Learning about the social order of the world

And where I stand in that world puts my mind at ease

Still feeling uncomfortable

Breakthrough.

When given the chance to escape

I enjoy pretending to be a snake in teh game Jumanji

It lets me hide from the person I don't want to be

I don't have to talk.

Just slither

And hiss

And show people that I really can do this play thing

Slithering back to the spot on the carpet feeling proud

I have a passion for art and creation

Compassionate energy

A passion for learning

Maybe even studying

Contemplation

Observation

There are so many rules, yet not enough

They didn't expect that.

They are letting me draw on the windows?

That doesn't happen at home.

I'm confused, yet I have

An appreciation for the finer things in life

Like window markers

And reflections.

Fingers brush the keys
All wrong
But you don’t care
You listen
To the playing—as bad as it is

I memorized it all
Just as you instructed
You are nothing like my parents
Forgiving
And willing to listen to everything

You listen as I tell you how I
Recovered
From the rain
I come literally drenched to your studio
On my bike

You run for towel
And seem genuinely concerned
I try really hard
Not to cry
But I am touched at your kindness

And you are so smart
I want to be you
I don’t want to be meth
You have it all
A piano, a husband, a kid

You are loved
And you are respected
And I am 14
I hate myself
Except when I am in your studio

You make me feel worthy again
I have practiced so hard
My father can’t appreciate it
But you have a different reaction
You tell me it will all be ok with your eyes and your gentle voice

It was a disaster
My milk is two days old
And I knew no one

I walked back to my car alone
To drive back to my house
That I rent from the guy who was supposed to show up

That sounds different than the way it is supposed to
I’m not involved
With anyone in any way

I loved listening to stories from staff
Meeting people I haven’t met before
Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be there

I don’t belong
To anyone
Not even myself

Someone Else's Childhood Memory

It’s not you; it’s me
I’m the one
That needs the work
Forgive me
I shall be myself in a few days

Climbing
Shouting
Anxiety
Bills
Cream

It’s all about the cream
That Damn cream
Everything doesn’t have to be about the whipped cream
Or does it?
Why can’t I have a normal life?

Waiting in line
For an oil change
Came across a little café
We were hungry
So we thought we would grab some lunch

I’ll have a salami sandwich on rye
He’ll have a bowl of your soup du jour
Why are you ordering for him miss?
I don’t know
Habit I guess

He would also like
Your crème burlee
With extra whipped cream
I do?
You always want the whipped cream

I do not
You do too
Can I just order my own damn meal?
You don’t love me anymore
You used to always let me take care of you

There were no kids
Just the car
That was broken
And the salami sandwich and soup du jour
And that whipped cream

Creamy chowder with biscuits
And tomato enchiladas with cheese
You should watch your cholesterol intake
I want you to be around with me until I die
Who says I wouldn’t?

Your diet says you wouldn’t
Says who?
Cheese? Whipped Cream?
You’re the one who ordered the whipped cream!
I was just trying to please you!

Can I get you anything else?
A beer?
A glass of wine?
Oh we don’t drink here
Says who?

I would like a drink
I would like a whiskey
The hard stuff
It’s the only way I’m going to tolerate
The rest of the afternoon

And the bill
For the car
God I don’t want to know how much that
Bill
Will be

Huddled Masses

Routine shuttled me away at a young age
Just like it did to everyone else
We are huddled masses
The ones who cry for love

We know not of its true name

New month, new theme

This month, bring out the big guns: CHILDHOOD MEMORIES.

It doesn't matter if yours were good or bad, and the more embarrassing the better. We always say our childhood is the best fuel for our writing, so bring it kiddos. We want to hear about your childhood, in poetry form. Just do it.

Summer

They say that this is summer
That summer is full of change
I don't think that's true
Summer is just strange

Be it June, July, or August
Muggy, hot, or dry
I believe that summer
Is just a time to cry

I don't really think so
But rhyming is quite hard
Cry is the only thing I could think of
That fits into this little yard

This isn't making any sense
So I will leave you now
I can blame it on Korea
And the newness that is approaching me. WOW!!!

Snapshot of Love #7

It is usually from afar
That I pen these laments
These quixotic prayers
My first thought when I saw you
Never
Never would I have a chance to speak to you
Never would you humor me for even a minute
And that was just fine
It was the world I was accustomed to

That is why I sit here
Thinking of you
And what I would give
To know
You have these daydreams too

But It's a Dry Heat...

This time of year

the desert blisters the unwary.

 

I watch people crawl into their shells

slither backward into dark basements 

the cool crevices of their protective havens

and wait for September, resigned.  

Spending summer months 

behind concrete walls and central air

is like self-imposed house arrest.

Like cabin fever in reverse

Minnesota in negative twenty degrees

except 

when in the desert, you step outside

and feel EVERYTHING...

Every.  Thing.

Every molecule of arid sun

every wavering doubt 

every shimmering illusion of grandeur

bleaches you, inside out.

There are only so many

clothes to take off

until you are stripped bare and left

over the fiery coal-bed of melting pavement.

There is no wind chill to numb

your insecurities away.

And so, the withdrawal

the cautious retreat

to the shadows, the hidden familiar.

I don't want to exist in an emotionless desert.

I don't want to slip back

into the mind's dark basement

and forget the warmth of

the human condition.

I don't want to construct walls--

psychological or otherwise--

or succumb to the fear of heat stroke. 

I will step out

wear sunscreen

breathe deep in the dry heat

and embrace the day.   

Ignore The Snow

Her legs were balanced on my thigh as she typed away at her laptop
I was far enough away that I could sneak glances into her eyes
She never noticed
I did not really know her three weeks ago
Hell, I did not really know her now
For some reason, she was just pleased to grace my presence
She seemed satisfied to just ride the wave
We were skating on thin ice, realizing it all the while

Summer has a funny way of making one needy
We need to be outside in the sun
We need to be enjoying beers and tea with friends
We need to smell the charcoal
Taste the burgers and veggie brats
Feel the grass between our toes

The last thing I wanted to need that summer was love
I felt like I had earned a free ride
I had suffered through distances that soldiers could not traverse
I had panhandled on the telephone wires
Under the cell phone towers

And yet, I still wanted it
I still wanted her
I wanted to share in all of the quick heartbeats
The shallow breaths
The sweaty hands
The silly looks

Summer
How we need thee
Even when we do not want it.