Afternoon Walks

He adores me silently, and without having to say a word he loves me. When I come home from school he greets me with kisses, so enthusiastically. I love him, but sometimes I think he uses me for my thumbs. I think Buddy just wants me to get his leash and walk him.

House Of Cards

Based on a painting by Jean Bupiste Simeon Chardin


This hazy light doesn't help
hunched over his kings and queens,
he can smell the balance approaching the royal court...
He swears just one more layer of cold faces, then he'll rest.
Insomnia creeps closer
and the countless hours reserved for sleep have been
forgotten.
If only it could stay like this ; studying his progress
he builds;
higher;
more elaborate than before.
One wrong move, though,
it's over:
his vertical dream gone horizontal.
A little stability?
He looks to his hands
as if they hold the answers.
The sound of nothing
answers his question.
They're mocking him now, and he knows.
For a man,
this redundant fixation is not
healthy.
So
kill
the lights.
Lock them up
into the cardboard prison in which they call home
But he knows that
that is impossible.
The queen of his heart will be coaxing him for freedon
for just a little while longer.
He tries his best to ignore
their taunting demenor.
Jack and his friends grow impatient.
He stares at cardboard.
They're just paper....an obsession.
He taps on the table,
trying to block the urge.
He can't take the pressure,
he knows it's wrong.
A drop of sweat leaves his forehead
along with his
sanity.
He hears the king's order.
Let his people out and
no one
will get hurt.
No one.
Surrender.

Sheep

Blank pages whisper to my shy thoughts
as they float around like wandering kites.

40 minutes hijacked by
restless thoughts
followed by eraser marks,
regrettedly placed on the lonely paper.

It is in that moment
my word flow comes to me like drying concrete.

Pesonality is a rotating fading new thing,
and people are just something new to view like
movies, books and music.

Is there a fine line between respectful and cool
and ridiculous or silly?
A finer line between pain and pleasure and
a virtually invisble one between left and right.
One could never rest on the line, not even after death.

Chelsea's Music

Verses of "AMANDA"s
sung loudly from the bottom of our stairs
sail from the Sea to my oblivious ears.
Vibrations from my purse
convince me to view her notes reminding me to walk the dog.
Beats of stratgically placed Uggs on my carpet
follw the rythm of my clothes
swaying as she looks for the perfect outfit.
It is her favorite song,
a song always on repeat.

Just a thought... ROUGH draft

Your synthetic facade can't shelter you
from what you do not know forever.
Reconstruct your frame of mind
before it crumbles.

I am not a camera, don't pose for me.

Three ways to look at a Heart

1.
Beating and pumping life
through tiny veins.
The organ we hope
never fails us.

2.
The artwork on history notes.
Big, small and in clusters,
adds life to dull note paper.

3.
Red and pink paper cut outs
given out on every
February fourteenth
as a small gesture of friendship
and affection.
Always paired with those three words;
Be My Valentine

Seven ways to look at a Stain

1.
The morning struggle's victory
from racing time
with an open coffee cup in hand.

2.
Careless colors,
expressions on a canvas,
forgetting about long sleeves.

3.
Ketchup getting its revenge
for when you pounded
on its stubborn bottom.

4.
A three year old
wanting to help during a meal.
"I'll pour!"

5.
Green knees
skinned with pride,
memories of
blocking that last goal during over- time.

6.
A reminder of how
dependant a sweater's life is
on how close you are to the noodles,
when dealing with tomato sauce.

7.
Unexpected,
unwanted
keepsakes reminding us
no one is perfect.

More Magnetic Poetry

Breathe in, breathe out this month in history.
Destination: Life as we know it.
Simple, pure
and close to nature is a man in full.
The first to embrace
the forgotten,
the okay picture
deciphering
curiosities of the mind.
Take a journey into
the exceptional picture.
Once upon a times.
Next stop:
go ahead,
chose your next adventure.

?

My mind presents:
the battle we welcome as love.
A temptation that is fought
along with a ticking temptation
naturally let in,
eclipsing all outcomes.

Magnetic Poetry

So, a few days ago Laura, Christine and I got together to make magnetic poetry. We had many interesting words, and decided to go with the subject of love/ relationships.


Embraced Deception

Break up's process :
Late night, love-hate relationships.
Heart tattered feelings,
And memries which feel empty now.
The thoughts spit desire
companionship,
and sensational passion through
discomforting green eyes.
Like hopeless lying flowers under black honesty.

TITLE NEEDED

It must be hard

to not have a friend:

no one to exchange your

smiles,

kind words

in this crowded classroom

with last period's gossip

on everyone's lips.

They sit

in the forgotten corner

in the forgotten last rows

in the forgotten seats.

They are

the shadows

we pretend aren't there.

We all do it.

The teacher does too.

We quickly grab our partners

hoping to avoid them.

"I have to work with him?!"

"Why do kids dress like this today?"

What makes an outcast?

That is the part

no one wants to

talk about,

but

I do.

Ignorance:

Something that must

be overcome.

"Hello, how has your day been?"

"Are you working with anyone?"

Talk.

Listen to the shadows.

Shine your light and

you may realize

they aren't shadows at all,

but people

just like

You.

No Sign Of Life

Merchant winds

summon fall's branches

to contribute their luxury,

making mother's majesty.

Soon she is cheated

out of her splendor,

plagued by a cold white curse.

Her royal pigments now

naked:

Erased like a paper mistake.