So many stars they seem brighter now.
With fingers intertwined, we walk,
Faces upturned to a sky so full
That last years seems empty.
How can the darkness bring such warmth?
I give it too much credit.
Six a.m. and Sleep hasnt come for days
(an unwelcome guest when
water sprites pirouette on my rooftop
and flit past my window).
Care for a walk in the rain?
Let us jump from puddle to puddle
enjoy the mess.
We shall be children again.
Then, for an instant,
as palm to palm guiltless hands meet,
the lightning and thunder
will make us complete.
A beautiful face.
Sad perfection,
like your apartment.
Always ready for redecoration
or parties of only strangers --
fifty dollars in the powder room.
Blank walls, simple
clean lines, flawless paint
to hide years of use.
The phone in a suitcase
to muffle the sound
of reality ringing in.
Renaming your world
to a comfortable level of illusion,
you thought you could
change the scenery --
But you never understood
the weather report.
Cold, worn stairwell,
tired with age,
someone called you dead.
Your walls - cloudy mouldy
watercolor green,
decay into the clean white
of my grandfather's memory.
Years and inches of fluffy grey dust lie
exhausted and untouched.
Decades of summer rain
through a leaking window pane
tattoo vertical striations
on your wall and stairs.
But small bits of orange brown
peek out from under the
satin smoothness of a century
of skin oil, water, sweat, blood,
cotton pants racing down the banister.
Where the stairs take a sharp right,
a dent on the rail - a scar
from little Paolo,
as he, sixty years ago,
ascended too quickly,
scatt
You'd think of darkness.
Dark, dry, desert sands
devoid of sound and motion,
devoid of life.
But no.
and yes.
At least in darkness,
you can un-imagine your solitude.
But here, with all things tinted gloomish purple-grey,
you can't deny it.
The cacti, spaced erratically throughout the landscape,
scurry to bury themselves in sand,
to hide in color, spectacle,
sound, Smirnoff.
But the echo you hear as they,
in a drunken stupor,
slam
into tables, walls, chairs, each other,
reveals their hollowness.
And I, the wallflower,
cactus flower,
try to pretend
that I am neither one
nor part of them.
Falling Asleep,
or was I sleeping? I was trying.
breathing. in out away - seeking
another world, a different world.
I tried
but could not move (my thoughts racing to
nowhere) out and away - towards you.
I could not escape
my body. my mind.
My Body.
My Mind.
And I was asleep
when I dreamed, when i dreamed.
I dreamed I was lying next to you.
Your warmth pressed against me
your heartbeat charging my own; your heartbeat charged
English 301-Analysis of Poetry by Adrielena, literature
Literature
English 301-Analysis of Poetry
Words
Words Words
Mean
Nothing
Something
Everything
powerful amalgamations of SoundEmotionPainFear
Drivel Driven Deep Down
through my skin
INTO
my Being
They isolate me
Crawling in sludge, wading in the slimy drudgery of humanity,
I see myself.
Into the muck, into a mudhole
a premature Ophelia,
drowning in the murky depths of her own silence,
I am pulled under.
I dive under.
With a pocket full of stones,
I sink under.
I know where to go.
Only pretending to drown, trying to hide,
Trying to fight.
Reliving my excruciatingly beautiful death over and over again
In my head.
It's only in my head.
In my hands.
It is in my hands, not yours, not his.
My hands.
they move
I feel a knife go in,
Tearing through layer after layer of madness temporary -
I hope.
Swimming in sensation
the temptation to
Current Residence: Southern California Favourite genre of music: I like pretty much everything, but I'm really into Folk right now. Shell of choice: seashells Wallpaper of choice: colorful Skin of choice: My own Favourite cartoon character: Brain (Pinky and the Brain) Personal Quote: Not bloody likely!!!
Favourite Visual Artist
Picasso, Lautrec, Van Gogh, Modigliani
Favourite Movies
Too many to count.
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Too many to count.
Favourite Writers
Haruki Murakami, Shakespeare, J.R.R. Tolkien, Alice Walker, Edgar Allan Poe, etc.
Favourite Games
Risk or Monopoly - the drinking game versions, of course.
Haven't had a new journal on here for over 6 months, so here's the update:
* Still unemployed ( :-( ).
* Have been in a relationship with an awesome guy for about 6 months ( :-) ).
* Went back to school in July to get my single subject teaching credential (hopefully I'll be teaching high school English by next year).
* Have taken up tennis.
* Try to work on music and writing when I can, but I tend to get distracted easily (some things never change).
That's about it. Now that school is forcing me to do academic writing on a regular basis, maybe I will be motivated to do some creative writing to counteract it (I
Sometimes events (and non-events) occur that really make you feel like everything is coming together. It amazes me that I can be jobless and nearly broke, but still feel this way. Is it the weather? The time of year? Some sort of mystical convergence? I'm not sure, but I will enjoy every second of it.
Yay! I got a Nikon P80 for xmas (my first ever digital camera) so I will be putting up a few pics. I hope everyone enjoyed their New Year celebrations. :-)
Best wishes for the New Year,
Marie
I'm so stress out right now. I'm up for manager at work and people are picking now to start acting like kids and argueing. I'm about to pull my hair out! I am keeping my cool at work but wow that takes a bunch out of ya. Ugg!
Sorry I thought you would sooooo understand.
anyway I should go to bed I will talk at you later,
---Deb---
Acting like kids and arguing, huh? Yeah... I have absolutely no idea what it is like to work at a place where everyone acts like 8th and 9th graders. lol. good luck.