Monday, October 30, 2006

The Scientist (Bless/Press)

She seems to pervade into all my thoughts

I can see her
Standing, peering over my mind
Ready to make her next drop
Of perfectly mixed intelligence
Onto my easily permeable mind

The soft watery sound of the drop
Clear and translucent
Causes a pleased, warm smile to come to her lips

The white environment
Clear blue sky
Seem to radiate
With a soft glow
That so becomingly
Accents the soothing skin of the beholder

I lie there
Looking up at her,
By both my curiousity
And her evident power

Her mind
(so superior
as the scientist she is)
Avidly watches the effects take place
With a fervour only matched by love

The delicate strands of my mind
Work constantly to deal with the new
And confusing intelligence
So professionally supplied
And adequately confounding

I drown.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Protective Equipment Must be Worn (Press)

Watch out.
Don't pass that line.
If you go over that line,
Something bad might happen.
You might bet hurt.
Or someone might hurt you,
You might suddenly fined you're ill,
And need to go home.
Does it mean what's dispensed out of a bathroom?
Does it mean a hard hat?
Who knows....
They should be more specific:
"No Man Not Wearing a Condom Will Not be Allowed"
"Hard Hats and Construction Equipment Must be Worn"
Who's to say how someone will interpret it?
A boozer could come in,
Looking for some action.
This is what is destroying America.
The unspecificness of every day life.
Next left, Denver.
How does someone know that they have to go off
The next exit ramp?
They could suddenly turn left
Into the wall.

To much though goes into signs.
This poem is a proof.
I've spent ten minutes writing about
I think
They should be abolished.
The president could put up signs saying,
You know he would.
Look at the mess he's gotten us into.
The generals probably interpreted a sign outside the
White house.
It didn't say "lets go to war with Iraq"
It said,
"Lets go out and play hackysack"
The generals were so bloodthirsty,
they just glanced at it and
Soiled themselves with joy.
I saw it myself.
I stood waiting outside
To talk to the president ,
And all these generals marched up
And soiled themselves.
I could see it and smell it.
It was crazy.
The next day, Bush comes out and says
"we're going to war with Iraq"

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Another Opnin' Another Show (Press)

People are running to and fro.
The sharp sounds of drilling echoes through the room.
Costumes are flying everywhere.
Boxes are being rifled through,
people begin screaming for things that aren't there.
A loud slam is emitted when gravity pries a couch from the hands of two.
Actors shout, battling over the noise.
The director waves her hands, desperate to get everyone's attention.
The sour notes of the unprepared band float through the auditorium bringing hands fast to unprotected ears.
The light flicker on and off, demands are yelled across the stage and frustrated responses yelled back.
A bewildered girl stands over tables piled with props, a notebook with scribbles clutched in her hands.
A cry of warning is sounded as a bucket filled to the brim with orange paint crashes to the floor and people with paint brushes find that they've been painted on themselves.
The stage manager runs frantically, trying to find actors who are supposed to be onstage.
People with cameras snap pictures of the ongoing havoc, smiling as they imagine the pictures in the yearbook.
Cues are whispered loudly to actors who haven't exactly learned their lines.
And a slightly out of tune piano plays notes over and over trying to engrave them in a troubled singer's mind.

But in the midst of this pandemonium, I smile.
Because it's just another opnin' of another show.

Caution: Tiffany's Room (Press)

The click-clack of a keyboard,
The rustling of goldfish bags,
The twang of a fake guitar,
The words spoken on a new cellphone,
The music from the latest ipod,
The excitement of a challenging video game,
The swish of textbook pages being turned,
The chattering of an animated TV show,
The laughter of cousins playing,
The barking of a family pet,
And the silence that keeps me guessing.
Caution, this is Tiffany's room.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Expression (Press)

I try, I try so hard for complete individuality,
like total independence will cure me of everything -
it seems radical, extreme, like it might work
if I only follow it for a little while longer,
but truly, my ills are only worsened by
the absence of others, for without them,
I soak up all the sorrow and it stays there,
invading my spirit perpetually;
we must purge from time to time,
expel our misery and suffering
through our words or our tears,
and lay the burden down for others to comtemplate,
because without friendship we wilt,
and without love we can never grow.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006


(It's one of my new favorites, I hope you like it cause I sure do!)
Tears falling
Taste salt
Bittersweet feelings of remorse and regret.
My memories burn my face away into a decaying matter that one should not see.
Torrets of sadness
They take hold of me and tighten their grasp
They make me feel like
the l o n e l y e s t person on this earth
And the worst part,
I still love him
I missed her
He remembers me
She hasn't changed
Life goes on
even if it's hard.
No one cares.
They just keep moving on.
Because that's what life is.
We move on.
Never looking back again.
It is our burden as mortals to wistfully remeber our happiness
and to wish for more.
We never pray for the same hapiness
Just the same feeling
Keep memories close
And your love
even closer
For it may one day

Monday, October 02, 2006

Bless, Press or Address?

Note to all new members of the blog:

Please remember to indicate what kind of feedback you are seeking with either Bless, Press or Address in parentheses next to your poem's title. Otherwise, we aren't sure what kind of comments to offer.


Night Owl (press)

Here I sit…
Pen ready…
Waiting for the words
To come soaring out of night
On silence-tipped wings;
Eyes glistening with the expectation of wet ink,
Stories clamped firmly in eloquent beaks.
I can hear them knocking
On the window of inspiration,
Cooing to each other
In a half-understood language
Hinting of adventure.

I flick open the latch and they swarm in…

Where is Beauty?

We see beauty in the people we call beautiful.

We say that we find beauty every day,

In a warm embrace, or the grace of a hand,

The outer beauty of a rose, or in a mural of art.

Yet we see beauty as we are, and not how it is.

Beauty is what keeps the moon sailing in the night sky.

Beauty helps the river run until it naturally descends the waterfall.

Beauty is the time given to a rose before it withers and dies.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

End Up Coming True (Press)

Open up your eyes and look around
Not everything you see is real
Not everything you tell yourself will come true
Not everything that happens makes you feel
The way you think you should
And sometimes things don't end up right
I would tell you if I could
Whats going to happen
If you don't take a chance
And if you can't see the light
Don't be afraid
To take a risk and jump
Things you think impossible just might
End up coming true

The way it once was

You have no idea what you mean to me
You have no idea how much
How much I look up to you
And out of everything you have done,
It is my heart that you have touched

I can't explain how happy I am
When I get to see your smiling face
Or when I get to talk to you
And we can chat about anything
What ever may be the case

I can't stand not being with you
As much as I once was
I can't stand missing you
And missing the way it once was

Forever I will be there
And in my heart you will stay
You have been there through the smiles, And the tears
And that is why I love you
I will every single day