Thoughtfully Speechless

Review of UCLA Food Items (a work in progress)

2012-01-19T10:49:00.001-08:00

De Neve-

Vegetarian chili in bread bowl- DO NOT EAT WITHOUT UNLESS YOU HAVE MILK! Or something else that will alleviate the spiciness of this dish. I found myself crying like a baby. The flavor is great. I found some squash, some bayleaf, some onions, some tomatoes, and about three types of beans. It's very well made.

Salisbury steak with string beans and mashed potatoes- The Salisbury steak is nothing special. It's tender, and not dry, and tastes okay with gravy. The gravy was rather bland. The mash potatoes, while not the chunky kind, taste delicious. I'll probably ask for a triple helping of mashed potatoes, without the steak or the gravy next time. Then, I'll pour Southern-style gravy or something else on it to make it taste good. The string beans were overcooked. They fell apart when I stabbed at them with a fork. Overall, an unexciting dish.

Artichoke pizza- a bit on the sour side, and not very savory. Don't try unless you like artichokes.

Seafood enchilada- this was kind of an accident, since I didn't read the sign and assumed they were chicken enchiladas. The sauce is much better than the chile verde that is usually used with the chicken enchilada. It's a little heavier, and it has a creamy texture. I do like the chile verde, though, and I really didn't taste the seafood. I think I'm mildly allergic to shrimp, so I got kind of sick after eating this.

Peruvian Chicken with Potatoes- delicious. I want to learn how to make this. It's not too spicy, and the chicken is very tender. I suspect that the potato slices were stir-fried in oil, because they didn't fall apart in the dish, and looked slightly dipped in some kind of batter. This dish contained tomatoes, purple onions, and some interesting combination of spices. I spritzed some lemon and added additional raw chopped onion to make it more interesting.

Lemon square- a refreshing dessert with its merits, and not too heavy. I'd try to get one without frosting. It gets kind of sticky when I eat it with a fork.

Bruin Cafe-

English Breakfast tea- weak, watery, and disappointing, since it costs two dollars. It's from tea bags, so I'm not expecting the finest teas, but it barely tasted like tea. Next time, I want to see if I can ask for a double tea bag. That should help a little. Of course, since I'm used to these really fine teas from China that my parents get for Christmas, I'm picky when it comes to tea. I wish they would sell a simple, strong tea without additional weird flavors, like strawberry creme, and mixes (ceylon and black?). That sort of stuff just washes out the merits of the tea leaves they use. They could be using artificial tea, for all we know.

Ginseng Peppermint- tastes only a bit like ginseng, and only with a hint of peppermint. Once again, this is a disastrous mix. I'm probably going to start asking my mom for a decent ginseng mixture that I can take to school. At two dollars a cup, it's not bad. I did learn something new from this experience, though. Apparently, despite its wonderful effects, natural ginseng is not caffeinated. I must have looked like an IDIOT while complaining about that! I totally shot myself in the foot, complaining about that so much. I guess, overall, this is a tolerable drink.

More later. I'll try to update every day.

Letting Go

2012-01-19T00:48:00.000-08:00

At times, I find that it's easier to let go than to keep the things that I once held so close. I remind myself that everything is temporary anyway. It's as if all of it was never worth anything to begin with. Sadly, that sort of thinking applies to the people in my life, too. I move through them so quickly, smile and laugh with them, and realize that I've either outgrown them or they've outgrown me. Rarely do I make attempts to hold onto them. I know that there are better people for all of those people, and I am not needed or significant in their lives. I was never particularly significant to begin with.
Of course, that kind of thinking is supposed to come full circle. If everyone has someone that they can stay with for a long time, an eternity that only they know, where are the people that I mesh with perfectly? Who do I look to when everything else is allowed to fall away? Where would such a person come from, and why would this person stay with me? For the longest time, I wondered if I was just wrong entirely in this worldview, and there was a better way to see things. Most people, after all, expend a lot of effort to hold onto friends that may or may not be good for them. I rarely spare such effort to this task.
And then came that fateful moment four years ago, when I realized how wonderful it was for someone to accept me, to love and care for me and not pull me apart from the inside out based on my flaws. In hindsight, I was just very fragile then. My previous friends hardly did me any harm, but I didn't feel a deep connection, and I was very insecure. With this new person, however, I felt that I had finally found my place and my person. It took a while to dawn on me, but then I felt like everything would be okay. At one point, I was rather codependent on her. I regret that period, in which I damaged myself and the relationship that I so cherished for the sake of ambitions. I do not regret my ambitions, of course. I just regret how I handled them in respect to my personal life.
After the ordeal was over and I had survived after willingly submitting myself to that particular rat race for so long, I practically prayed every night that she would stay with me. I hoped that I had not cracked something in her, or something in me that would lead me astray. I didn't know if she would hear, though she's quite the empath, but I prayed anyway that I would be good enough for her. That was a genuine concern. By that point, I really thought that I had failed to be good enough. I felt like I hadn't been sufficiently supportive, sufficiently sympathetic, and sufficiently understanding. The more words I used to describe myself, the more inadequate I felt. There were times when I wanted to get away from her, just to see if she needed or wanted to hear from me just as much as I wanted and needed her around. I ceased to call her. After all, my codependent stage had left me conditioned to expect most of the calls to go to voicemail. That would be the only chance for me to hear her voice. Soon, she didn't even use a personalized voicemail message anymore. I was greeted by a machine. I think that chipped away at me.
Every time I picked up my phone and found her number in the directory, I began to automatically draw up memories of endless repetitions of customized voicemail greetings, memories of wishing that someone could hold me or soothe me with words.To call her, at this point, would be too painful. I did, though. Sadly, whenever I got through, I still felt a bit broken inside from the effort. If she never picked up, that meant she didn't want to be friends. However, if she did pick up and speak with me nicely, that meant that she tolerated me, but I wasn't good enough.
As we grew older, this mattered less and less. Our problems started piling, one on another, and it was then that we really needed each other. We both had dreams that were too big for the small town, though they weren't grand. They were just idealistic and beautiful, wild as the roaring wind. It's funny that we talked so much. Neither of us followed the advice that we had given to each other. Neither of us went into majors that represented or reflected what we truly wanted out of life. Neither of us went to the college of our dreams. It wan't because we were rejected. It was just that there was so much pressure to do what we were told to do, as ugly as that sounds.
And then, college came. I swore to myself that I would never part ways with her. She's the gauge that I use when I measure all of my other friendships, past, present, and future. We went to different universities, but we met up periodically to talk about our lives and our thoughts, which were still of the same flow and the same veins of ideas. When I talked with her, I felt like no time had passed since I last saw her. First quarter, it was. Everything wasn't quite settled yet, and we were still finding out what we had to do to make what we wanted of our lives.
Second quarter then comes, and the illusory peace falls to pieces. We're both not pleased with our situations. I want to be in a major that I'll truly love and adore, and she dreams even bigger. We turn to each other when we fight our parents, sisters united with common ideas. She really was like a sister to me, a sister in all but blood, as she put it. There's too much going on. I suddenly feel like everything's out of my hands. She's good at comforting people. I'm not. I try, but I have a tendency to sound like a know-it-all, apparently, when I talk. I didn't say this to her, sometimes she's too mystical to make sense to me. A mystic and a factbook- interesting combo, but with lots of difficulties.
Recently, I realized that I really didn't know how to make her better when she was fuming and frustrated. She knew how to put a smile on my face when something triggered me to cry, but I couldn't figure out how to comfort her. I simply wasn't good enough, I thought, since I didn't think she really wanted to hear any of my facts and analysies. That would be too much to expect. We're not even legally able to drink yet! After one last dilemma, I realized that I was truly as inadequate as I had once believed myself to be.
Maybe she needed her alone time, but I did not intend for her to feel perpetually bruised and bleeding in places. While I had tried the same approach on my parents, they had a similar reaction, skewing the argument to something that they did indeed understand.
Thus, I realized that I needed to say goodbye. I couldn't satisfy her needs, and she had no reason to think of mine at that point. I do so much harm, she even says so sometimes just to remind me. In my heart, though, I'm thinking that it's over, and this is the one great jewel shining like a star. I had to let go because I was too critical, too much of every bad thing I could think of. In my mind, I regard this connection to her as severed. Still, I wait to see if she'll actually keep talking to me after this. With her, I can honestly say that it's my personality that's causing my issues, not minimal optimization of the workforce. How bittersweet all of this is!

EDIT- Wow...that last paragraph. I'll leave it as evidence of what my mind does when I write in my sleep. It seems like I'm searching for beauty, despite being so disappointed and exhausted.

List of Korean historical films and dramas

2012-01-09T18:31:00.000-08:00

For all who plan to take Korean history, here are a few dramas and films that really helped me get into the period! Note that the content in them is should be treated as fiction, but it's nice to have historical background, as well as the ability to picture Korean actors and costumes in one's mind when reading a picture-less textbook filled to the brim with information.

Mythological beginnings- Jumong (haven't actually seen this one...will probably save it for this summer, or for spring break)

Three Kingdoms Period- Queen Seon Duk (a beautifully done drama, riveting and thought-provoking in every way. Note that a lot of it is fiction, as well as nationalist fabrication, but there are some historical details mentioned. Don't get too caught up in the Hwarang. They're amazing young warriors, especially with their dramatic makeup that they put on before they kill themselves for the sake of honor, but there's apparently little evidence that they actually exist. This also means that Mishil and Munno might have been fictional, but my book doesn't go into that much detail. Bidam is probably fictional, but Kim Yushin is real as can be. Apparently, he and Chunchu were the heroes of the unification of Korea. I guess that was when Chunchu was older. He really was Seon Duk's nephew, which means that Seon Duk had siblings. What I couldn't really figure out, though, was the fact that he was actually Kim Yushin's brother in law. I'm still trying to use the events in the drama, which I won't spoil any further, to figure out how that might have worked out)

Koryo- None that I have watched so far...I'll start looking for them.

Choson/Chosun- Untold Scandal (R-rated for sexual content, but a beautiful story in an aesthetically beautiful film, probably a classic by now...very interesting interpretation of the defiance of Neo-Confucian values for the sake of happiness); Ladies of the Palace (again, an interesting take on how women acted within Neo-Confucian expectations, while still getting their way and making their voices heard); Dae Jang Geum (I didn't finish this one...it's not a personal favorite, but it's okay); and many, many more that I intend to watch. I guess Goong counts, in its own special way.

What I want to watch, but haven't fully watched yet- Jang Hui Bin, The King and the Clown, Yi San, Hwang Jini....google "sageuk" or "taeha" for more. Oh, the joy of palace conspiracies and royal strife!

Knitting Records- Cabled Arm Warmers/Wristlets

2012-01-05T19:25:00.000-08:00

With Red Heart Super Saver in color Heather, and size 8 circular or straight needles, cast on 37 stitches. Knit two inches of 1x1 rib, flat, not circular knitting. Then switch to K1 *P1 K4* until the last stitch, knit the last stitch on the right side.

On the wrong side, P1 "P4 K1" until last stitch, P1

Do that for one inch, end on the right side.

On a wrong side row, P1 *K1, slip 2 stitches to cn (or rn), hold in back, P2, P2 from cn or ln (if you don't use cable needles, are left handed, and you slipped all four stitches back to the ln after twisting the cable)* P1 on last stitch. This is a row with 4 stitch cables.

Go back to alternating between K1 *P1 K4* K1 and P1 *P4 K1* P1 for another inch, repeat the twisting of cables.

Then knit another inch of that 1x4 rib.

Finish with five inches of 1x1 rib, then bind off.

Seam together, leaving a gap for your thumb.

I'll try to post a picture ASAP.

Random Stuff

2011-11-10T17:58:00.001-08:00

http://www.knitpicks.com/cfCart/viewWishlist.cfm?wishlistid=9053A9C8-04BA-DAB2-BFE0A8556469A5FD&media=WLBL

I just bought some gorgeous knitting needles, but free ones couldn't hurt. :) My wishlist is above. I'm not sure who reads this blog, but at least you know what I want for Christmas, now (other than pens).

Meanwhile, college and Nanowrimo are kicking me around this month. I'm sure I'll be fine. I just need to make it to December in one piece.

Hydroponic Ode

2011-10-30T11:17:00.001-07:00

Pretty castle on a cloud,
Your foundations taken in
a ghostly maze unfolding-
a drifting life
on a cold liquid breath.

A new home, this is-
new soft sleepy hands
to tug at blind roots-
a basket woven tight
for sitting.

Forget the silent shadows,
forget the dark velvet-
the full, heavy embrace
of a thousand generations;
Stand on a million
tendrils of curious light.

Grow with me-
Let us swim down,
shed our drowning shells
to show slippery skins-
above us, forever
our offerings to spring.

Unfolding Under the Trees

2011-10-17T21:02:00.000-07:00

The sun drops a dusty screen,
a curtain through
the window in the tree,
a wall of leaves, wood beams
thick as winter
and summer and fall.

I lay my heart down
(the roots rise
to meet my eyes)
beneath a blanket of ferns,
shadow puppets swaying
a silent chorus- on stage
a lighted sky.

Then the whole world forgets
I am me, dressed,
washed in another light-
little hairs on my legs, my skin
treated with another fantasy.

Here, I wear slippers of sun
on peasant feet-
I've no claim to truth
but a life, a whisper
beneath my cracked toes.

Here, my flat eyes common
see the concrete scraped away-
all I've known
a little, hard creek running off,
a kite string
light as my sigh
bound to a heavy heart of green.

The City in the Night

2011-10-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

A river runs, a river runs
where the people do not rest;

I sit and watch, my post
in a ship old as extinction,
the stream of hiding souls.

By night, they rise
higher than the trees,
skim the dreams, the wet crumbs
the grit of the watery stew-
silly souls are fed
who know to fly away.

So many, they are-
they cover the moon,
leave the city of dreams
a sleeping Atlantis,
drowned in what it knows.

One Sky

2011-10-12T19:17:00.000-07:00

Forget the moon,
so it falls
fighting the burning tide
between that other sky
and yours.

Forget and my brown hand
kisses its trembling face,
my touch, the moon
crumpling into this memory-
a sea breaks up on us,
my sky and yours.

But give me, this
sad, unending cry- this hand
that does nothing, nothing
but praise the faceless gods,
and so it will be-
one sky once more.

As It Must Be

2011-10-12T19:05:00.000-07:00

Shake the skies in my starry eyes,
take the key to my open door;

Bottle my cries,
they'll break as time flies,
set a fire across your floor.

But stay, take me
and my tangled lies,
free this heart
from its burning ties;

Show my soul
where its magic lies,
and I'm yours evermore.

A Rosary of Sorts

2011-09-17T13:18:00.000-07:00

I reach out, hold close
the blue jug of sky,
the drop of blooming star
dangling on meager string.

I pull them in, even
think of a face still young
in centuries of repose,
lost in a soft veil of hair.

She sleeps, not knowing,
in her dry, faint smile-
her hands- they are
the source of a million streams.

In the sweet seas of her eyes,
we float in her arms,
all of us as one-
birth before birth,
a womb of light for souls.

World One

2011-09-08T22:02:00.000-07:00

A desert

a storm of stars

rides a wind in one hand,

a sanctuary for a broken fire

thrown only in the other-

for days yet unused.

A sky rises from the tide

clutching the seas,

one in each hand,

two eyes, sparkling stones

heavy as the ground.

An empty heart, sunken

from the fleeing sky-

it waits, splinters

into clouds of quiet green

to flood the golden sand-

the fading shores of war.

This is the golden eye,

fallen

when heaven became hell;

it knew every star,

every root of ice,

every heart of fire.

If Only She Were Here

2011-09-08T21:38:00.000-07:00

When you wear that last ring,
a sunset wraps into your hand,
into your bones,
a wobbly vase tottering along
in shadow puppet shoes,
still trying to meet her again,
and so you must remember her.

Take care, you say-
She has missing parts
where her scattered ashes flew-
a dream-catcher's breeze took it
on a breath of shattered glass.

You know she walked away
You hid her, take her out
from the hollows of your heart;
the last shadows sway on the wall,
a pendulum sweeps the hall
so she can come in.

Ode to Earth (II)

2011-09-05T23:02:00.000-07:00

The grace of her lord dwells here,
in all that she shares-
she, the most faithful,
with eyes for no one else.

In this life she sleeps,
Dreaming of past rivers, broken
in the sea of empty seas,
With him, burning so bright,
the shepherd of a million souls.

Humble sentries keep her still
Wrap her in cruel, old shadows-
the stories, in the night
to hide her gentle soul, so still,
from the cold realm he keeps.

Yet, she trembles, murmurs
her hopes to a senseless sky-
To be free, at last,
to see the one she adores most!

One day, someday,
His glorious light will rise,
His last coming, rapturous goodbye,
To spirit her away.

Like her lost sisters, angels
waiting in their rafters,
She'll scatter flesh and bone
to the heavens once more.

Ode to Earth (I)

2011-09-05T22:47:00.000-07:00

New roots crackle in soft ground,
the battle above, long finished;
pieces of wind stray, torn
on the shadows of pennants green.

Forever is the siege below,
the soft ground, the fairest
in any starry eyed soul,
a place so uncomely
in all but its secret eyes,
an endless heart, it stole
from the lord of light.

Forever her heart opens,
her soft gaze lost at sea,
where no broken spirits,
no ghosts can dwell.

Forever the wanderers seek
with hunger of new life,
with twisting trails of winding years,
to open arms so blind
(and the sky leads them away).

Summer Belongs Here

2011-07-07T20:22:00.000-07:00

The earth falls in me;

heavy pieces of rain-

spring, sneaking in

on silver tap shoes

through young skirts of mist.

A sea of cottons drowns

all but the shadow sky- and me-

who lies

with eyes to fly away,

on lashes the wings of moths,

a sweet, paper pair

rapping at my button cottage door.

A hollow of butterflies,

filled with the pulse of the sun-

it ripples in my ear, tell me to go

where they have been

on wings of gold lace, silver strings

faster than any sea.

A whole world of leaves-

through the dry window

on the wings of a lost fly-

a story made for empty air.

The heart of the earth is a broken star,

bare as the rare, unarmed evergreen

hiding behind yellow feather hands-

yet it coaxes a lullaby

into a body as open as the wind.

Look Up

2011-07-03T21:21:00.001-07:00

The celestial ballroom opens its doors,

so cold beyond the dream;

The age of masquerade is seized,

possessed by wild phantoms unbound.

Alabaster hands become

rivers slow, unmasked eyes

blinded, groping

for a balcony in empty sky,

ribbon-tied feet not up, down but

head over heels.

At last, proud gems burst-

a rosy spiderweb filigree

hot as any hell;

Just another day, apparently,

of the empty rage- still cold-

yet unquenched.

To Love a Poem

2011-06-14T22:59:00.000-07:00

Some say, it is to reach out,

take a forbidden hand,

run with her

through soft midnight beads,

a million pieces of an eye ,

to look away, with her,

as the world blankly stares

into heaven's endless embrace.

Some say, it is to love nothing,

to see her doe eyes

gaze from every lost dream;

through time not promised to her

you hear her whispers, a dandelion's

silver trees in the air-

hope is the thing with feathers.

I say it is worse- to be thirsty rain,

angry ice with fingers

blown from broken trees,

thinning wind still longing

to hear you find its name;

For me,

for these,

the sun shines on another day.

Light Summer Night

2011-06-14T22:33:00.001-07:00

Even heavy firs awake

in the moment, the pinprick,

the right measure

long plucked from wind.

Old henna lattices open,

deep veins staining through;

a strange, rich calligraphy

to pressed flower sky.

Deep as teardrop symphonies,

spherical mysteries grow

opal fingers, thin as ice,

to clamp fistfuls of light.

The dry square matchboxes

(where old souls hide)

catch in full fire, a dance

to fall on en pointe shadows-

dry, fresh rivers, runways

to and from the air.

Every branch, every scar of smoke

remembers to fly,

remembers to grow thick plumes

in old peacock green, beetle brown;

Every flower already blown alight,

the sweet air is full of flight.

Awake, But Not Alone

2011-04-18T20:00:00.000-07:00

A ghost of a pulse follows me,

Floats, woven on the shadows

on the seas of sifting shade

brazen in the night.

It choses with care, then takes

a corner of an eye, settles

with bones of dust beneath a cloak.

It lingers longer than any moth,

knows the moon is too far.

Then comes the gentle serenade,

Wrapping me from the dark,

A spell that finds the fragile heart

awake

and ties its shadow, softly

to the trembling earth.

The Things That Still Rule

2011-03-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

The bitter rush of old ocean-

Impossible, yet a ghost of gods

tossed in elaborate song!

Stale and sweet,

The mighty roar of waves rolls in,

A velvet, too smooth with lost wonder

grows brittle claws like arrows-

still at war with the silent voice-

Innocent, yet another soul lost.

The magic still lies, of course,

Deep in the fortress yet untapped-

The darkest stronghold, a dulled enigma,

a palace of the greatest machine.

Forever in tongues few will know,

are enchantments, untouchable on tightropes,

for their false gods who stand,

ready in songs of siege.

(The real demons, the real lords

call those threads a city of light).

Magnolia XII

2011-03-09T18:56:00.001-08:00

Is it all the same as before?

her being a goddess once more?

She shines in gold, but

modest blush of her maker.

He falls into her soul, as only he could,

revels in soft layers of cool;

Her word unspoken, her fullness

quiet in shimmering grace-

Born again, as she dances.

Her silver veils fall away,

the cold mists, so exquisitely dark,

does she remember?

Mourning came, morning went forth

from behind shades of pastel,

from the nights of shadows awake,

sprawled and arched in dust.

She was once so wide

she folded up to the stars,

a silent maid, behold!

The kings of celestial court

warred to distant stalemate,

'til the night wind burned with fire.

Endless courts, endless watercolor palette-

One sky of her own, one sky not,

she flees them both- her fate-

The dark dance of years suspended,

illuminated in tossed shadows-

her hourglass.

Another Wish

2011-03-07T20:50:00.000-08:00

I'd wish you a million wishy wishes

if I could see but one,

over the crest of the wave of sky

before the day is done.

I'd wish you a million million more

to see them in your eyes-

Such magic meets it fellow quick,

To spark it- how time flies!

A million, million, millionth wish?

What good would it be?

You have the rest inside of you,

except this poem from me.

Magnolia XI

2011-02-28T19:06:00.000-08:00

How fine is she, now!

The day is whole of heart,

flushing all in soft, swirling dance,

His bold hands stroke, caress

the tender cheeks of all dames alike.

To her, a visit unexpected-

She blushes, a lofty story tumbling

in flourished cascade,

filling unseasonable robes heavy.

Rich emeralds rise, burning

on jade alight with fresh ember-

A fullness fluttering, a languid bliss-

Suddenly, a ripe joy once more.

To her king in all his glory,

A fickle man, yet the crown jewel-

That shard of impossible diamond,

That memory lighting from within,

bound in the sea of sky, a gift

from the finest merchant of charms.

Magnolia X

2011-02-28T19:02:00.001-08:00

My lady, my solemn muse

strolls in the shining rain,

layers of petticoats tied heavy,

laced in patrician airs assured.

Fair with an ancient gravity,

She faces the east, plain to the fickle day-

(he who comes and comes not)-

more a song than deserved suitor,

She of no blemish but longing mourn.

'Tis the season to wait, poised with hope,

A goddess subdued in trappings of time-

in somber, rich emerald, her masquerade,

yet she glows just the same.

To Dream

2011-02-28T18:54:00.001-08:00

She wears her mask of sadness,

The same melodrama,

night and night again.

The butterfly trapped in shadow

spins in late cocoon as time wheels on,

a bare chain of what eternity left behind.

The same tears rip seams, pour forth,

Bleeding from the same tired portrait-

dead wings still fly,

dead profiles still walk,

the last of the soul still burns;

Still, her wicked beauty lives ever in fire-

her hand traps all that comes my way.

Once, I was the sole spider;

This glistening story flooded turgid,

Draped in canopies of rain-

Came the sun upon my palace,

struck all but the bottle of her flame.

Spring Yet Unwritten

2011-02-28T18:49:00.000-08:00

Teardrop flowers drift

full and heavy in tall water wheels

climbing, falling in lost time-

the finest thread on the loom

yet unwoven by the sun.

A bittersweet silk heart knots hidden

yet exuberant in scattered light-

scattering the seams to see the soul,

the secret lost in blushing green.

Come galloping the spring rain

to scatter the falling earth,

And perhaps the twisted stones,

the hard flourishes of pressed song

will open and fly free.

Imagine (II)

2011-02-28T18:41:00.001-08:00

Imagine if my hands were the wind,

My soul a water nymph, quicksilver fast

in a dance among thoughts,

My heart, a maid of the sun

lost in unending silks of light.

In my high castle amongst the clouds,

Cold with deep keystones of ice,

my own sky

in nets of crystal

a river of thinnest golden frost

running always over my lap-

The unripe sun pools on the ground,

The whole world light as a feather.

Forever, I'd weave the day, guard it,

Hold it close in the night-

A keeper of life in a sea of stars

on an island nearly lost,

An unending siege in a standstill.

A Struggle of Dimensions

2011-02-28T18:36:00.000-08:00

My thoughts were once fish, yet
Stretch legs from bare bones,
From weak, unceasing whispers-
A destiny called forth.

Fledgling ripples, unrelenting blooms-
They peel away at the subtle veil,
Rising, unstoppable, tangled
in the ancient shadows, the stranded light

dancing on the surface,

crumbling in mild conversation-

All but the movement of a subtle line;
Still is the pale night, above and below.

Full, clear waters fall glassy, now blue,
The sky, just another surface on this one,
Now gated hastily too-
Shadows and bowlegged trees stand,
Twisting in locks of oId.

How impossible it is to stand still,
to take the living ghostly candlelight,
cut its seams from the water,
wish it free.

Imagine (I)

2011-02-28T18:23:00.001-08:00

Imagine if my hands could fly,

Plucking a world of liquid color,

shadow birds and butterflies

dancing behind each current-rose,

A different taste of pastel, each

touched by a blessed light.

Wide as the sea itself, I'd let it swallow,

Paint me as I change my threads below-

Some would catch in impossible stone

where even the seas come to rest-

in a place of perpetual ocean, left

asleep in drifting meadows beneath.

Tying my knots at the horizon,

I'd wash myself in sunset, a soft beginning

to the sweetest oblivion, yet to come-

To watch the sea, washed anew,

as I pull in another gossamer tapestry

from above the river of night.

The Spirit of Words

2011-02-13T07:25:00.000-08:00

Dark, pungent airs dance light,

wings unfurl in maddened flight-

It flees from prisons of narrow glass,

To be seized, drowned in the empty air.

Pierced by the fine-threaded horizons,

netting the world, end to end-

It falls upon the running wind,

Old screams choked to whispers

Unending, woven tough and thin.

Thus, it forgets the lofty sky,

The sweet carriage of barrelled sleep,

To meet worlds, tempests far in the mist,

Behind a wall of broken songs.

Magnolia IX

2011-02-11T00:18:00.001-08:00

The stillness overtakes me,

Casts pale sheets of light

upon the soulful, trickling want

dripping slowly over weary eyes.

Her soft gaze bears deep pools of gold,

Ringed with rippled watermarks-

veins left from the receding deluge

pin the sky over her face.

A dancer in subtlety, she sweeps, at last,

Bending to touch the cloaked ground,

Clutching its hidden seams,

So slippery, in nimble hands

so wisps of winged shadow fly,

but to come back in morning sky.

How quaint, as old memory recedes,

My friend of unchanging grace;

My love, as firmly rooted as she,

In rare, sweet rediscovery.

Deluge in Unfocused Eyes

2011-01-31T19:33:00.000-08:00

The sea has never quite left us,

Isles of its soul above the land

hanging on where life is.

Time has fought the tide,

Won in intricate wars, but skirmishes

writing, rewriting colorful limits,

Burying tenebrous songs of old.

Yet, the waters labor on, now clothed

in green, crimson, and gold-

In the fall foliage breaking,

spears of waving green,

Unending in a floating world.

Random

2010-12-31T10:55:00.001-08:00

http://quizilla.teennick.com/quizzes/102022/which-personality-disorder-do-you-have

Thank goodness for poetry. This isn't as bad as it sounds. I swear!

Muse (III)

2010-12-31T10:42:00.000-08:00

At last, her spirit leaves me,

The humming, whirring copper cogs,

That life of mine- cast

where it lights that world beyond,

where her eyes are finer

than any pearl in measured light

my single heart could give.

She leaves me my magic,

A stern delusion, keeping me,

To see just beyond

where the pale water, branching,

can still carry us both.

Muse (II)

2010-12-31T10:35:00.001-08:00

There she lies, unconcerned,

More lofty than the moon

for all she can never see-

in the deep depths of stars,

in this singular mask of night.

So far away, there

My sanctuary here,

The face that paints

the crystalline bite, the wind

in every word I write!

Still, faster the wings fly,

Faster the steadfast soul

of a time long misplaced-

Cooler blows the cloak,

So heavy around my heart

where sculptures live forever!

For a moment, I see

my whole world lifted,

A shard of glass,

Into that stream, that

other world of light-

A sky of watery pearls

closer than the elven-faced stars.

Muse (I)

2010-12-31T10:29:00.000-08:00

Crisp wings of time, pulled

thin on rice paper skeletons

left in collecting jars,

Still fly past.

They await me, each nerve

a stroke of misplaced flourish,

Each artery beneath hard temples

pounding, pouring lines

like streams of water,

forcing through me,

and I am transparent.

Rushing through my filthy hands,

Ripping past the ragged spots, damned,

They wield pearls of light, lanterns

in liquid trickle- to another world.

Little Tokyo

2010-12-29T19:35:00.000-08:00

It started with boxes

Alien, knotted silk presents,

Stiff and climbing petal-drops

Clinging to havens lost.

What's left to hold

the mother's soul,

facing the changing horizon?

She started with a new world-

A pilgrimage hastily made safe,

then, undone

Behind an unchanged face,

Still beautiful after this.

Now she blooms in empty halls-

A lady in stained glass,

Behind the empty windows-

Her calligraphy of shadows.

Still masked, she holds firm

The casualties of smiling war.

I Follow the Moon

2010-12-08T22:25:00.000-08:00

Not to worry not to fret

my love tells me,

As she brings her world forth.

I lift mine eyes to her sacred sky,

Pulsing with ripples, slowing

winter winds falling to a still pond;

She divines in me, fills my will,

And so my heart shakes-

All light is harsh, dead

'gainst her hands in my soul.

One by one, they come forth-

The chieftainesses with diamond feet,

Their gowns bright with sulphur

trailing in an unmined sky,

Every corner of it proudly held-

The nations of light, their names

etched in the reels they dance,

The dust in sharp petals

left where they turn their heels.

And it is then, in the music,

My soul is ensnared, my being full

in open surrender unfurled, held

against my love's embrace of sky.

Sky of November

2010-12-08T22:11:00.000-08:00

The first chill sways in me

My heavy, suspended sunset,

A canvas well marked, yet

More transparent than the wind.

I let them go together-

My last light, and the wind,

For they each live to string

The other’s hollow songs.

Like beads on thread, they live

On the round, cascading necklaces,

A bright, frigid web casting endlessly

At the stars of the light-rent sky.

They hold me, thank me

Before blowing through meager breasts

In hopes of mine- the lost souls

Of theirs and the dying noon.

I am left, pale, truly last in line,

Enshrouded in the wind that stays,

In the last, who bestowed on me

His memories of day.

Those that have me, the hollow hearts

Where my wind and my light

Struggle to thread-

They are more alone than I.

They have not even my sunset,

Only the wind, my wind,

Infused with stolen roses

Which make plain dreams wild.

Nanowrimo 2010

2010-12-04T23:07:00.000-08:00

Woot woot! Once again, I did a ton of last minute stuff, but that's what makes it fun!

Yellow- I wrote, but didn't meet the "1666 words a day, every day" quota that's needed to reach 50,000.

Red- I didn't write at all.

Green- I met, or exceeded the"1666 words a day, every day" quota.

As you can see, I barely wrote on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. Actually, I never wrote on a Wednesday! In conclusion, it's a crazy, stressful challenge, but it's not as crazy of a challenge as it seems! Looking back, it did consume my time, but I was able to do lots of other things too.

Despite the novel schedule, I did manage to write poetry. I'll probably post it later, because I need to submit it for something important soon.

To Claim the Sky

2010-10-20T22:57:00.000-07:00

The cathedral of sky empties of prayers
When a pilgrim is wary of the ground again,
Who tiptoes its echoing vaults of wind,
Arched solid as the rains descend.

In the halls of sun, the houses of days,
With twilights burning along the wall,
All is drawn behind the night,
Storming, should one faithful fall.

The darkness is young, wiry of wit,
For raindrops pass in hoods of mist,
Lusting for the gold, the grime
The faithless donned in shadows kissed.

Felled phoenix, daunted in the clear,
The steeple appears long-painted past,
Who is to know the bells still toll
Lest a neighbor lends a feather, at last?

Silence

2010-08-25T19:26:00.001-07:00

A constant gift in every ear
The oldest volumes be,
Read, and read, and read, (and read)
Till greater than the sea.

Replace one, and another comes,
The sweet wind's shawl to slide.
Lighting seeps the flame of frost,
The crackling forever plied.

Hold it close to you, and listen
Coldest where its secrets lie,
An ancient spell of purest words
Deserving no reply.

Try it one, as you may,
Choke, sputter, and see,
Through strongest spirits, on it flows
Yet no one's master be.

Remnants

2010-08-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

Suppose I

could.

Suppose I could shake the longest, dryest of waiting tears until I'd never cry again, losing my reluctant love where it finds someone perfectly happy.

I smile, keep, keep walking, and it is gone. My dearest, my very last resistance, gone.

Watching.

Suspended in the sorrow that overtakes the wind for a long, long while, waiting, sitting on the meager shadows of rising and falling night and day. The cycle gets heavy, watching her dull, scratched reflection on the sea.

From far away, a tree grows where the sad little shame had been, already staining, bridging every little star to the sun and never, ever stopping. Built on tears, where the salt became the sand and the rolling, twisting sob burrowed deep and right through the rock, it wrinkles in disgust at the blushing sunset, and does not know how to smile.

Star to star, branches tip close as they can. To the others, they say. As long as this tree is here, no one shall fall, ever again. As long as this is here, every dreamer may walk forth, merry, on this thin, thin ice of a night.

Soon, there shall be a forever, stronger than the others, the little one hopes.

I shall touch where my master failed, and I shall glow in the night.

For all the dreamers, to sit where I break into the glassy night, I stay.

Beyond Magnolias

2010-08-25T19:14:00.001-07:00

The sky opens widest,
Shy of any return, dancing
at the edge of another complete
Being.
Nobody watches, so slowly
when all the softness goes
seeping into ground.

Color walks forth, shedding
any and all pretense, shining
brighter than ever before;
The world is really still
when colors cease to quarrel, the best
of all shades shed the same.

Take another step back,
See the cotton thread wind
pulling all of us round, away-
Sheerer than any quiet sky,
they race down the horizon
in neck to neck harmony.

Early Morning Dreams

2010-08-25T19:11:00.001-07:00

It's overblown world, etched
In ink and graphite
Miracles
Of endless avenues of dust.

It's never night, never quite day,
Blooming yet faster, faster as
The world draws upon itself.

Oh, to dream, to walk on lines,
Drawn split seconds, pushing
Every which way- up
across, and even in!

Someday, all will be drawn
As for the past years,
Into the waiting, the hollow
Pillars of salt and sand.

Still There

2010-08-25T19:07:00.000-07:00

The moment's journey went astray
As the country road does bend,
The wildest run so very swift,
No one could ever make a-mend.

This dust, it rolls, so high and slow
Across never a straight post fence.
Why, it caught up to the sea,
Spent immortality, hence.

Your love is endless,
But a moment thought,
As it waited for an end.
Yet on the deepest summer night,
No map the stars defend.

Perhaps Endless, Perhaps Not

2010-08-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

When is it, that the fog should clear?
The world speaks humble
To the future so dear.

To the future so dear,
Should the silence hence mumble
And itself not fear?

And itself not fear,
Says the dream who'd tumble
To the future so dear!

To the future so clear,
Go the toasts drunks grumble;
When is it, that the fog should clear?

ELSE

2010-08-12T10:50:00.001-07:00

Cast aside all delusions,
All royalty of brown, murky thought
Swamped in wanting, starving want,
To the token marble statues
Fawning in the well.

Beautiful, are you, where
Phrases should be full, curved,
Naturally dangling, or perhaps not,
Running fast and dark, dark blue.

You are someone, not like them,
Or anyone who might say such-
Not even you, then!
You are something completely, entirely
ELSE.

Unlocking that Within

2010-08-12T10:30:00.001-07:00

She laughs- a low, living noise
With wings, pulled from the aerie,
Long, ash thin legs
Hum-drumming, plucking
Strands of untouched sand;
Swish, to the lonely little wind,
Farewell once again.

Her eyes are stolen whirlpools-
The tide rises and falls
From a secret place
Where her cocoa shadow roses
Rise from little seeds,
The land but a ribbon, torn rashly,
Fading from the endless Blue.

This all wells in the soul, you see,
The truth of all that could befall
This great faraway shore,
A paradise, rising again and again,
Missing, dropping and picking
New refrains each time.

Face Towel

2010-08-12T10:15:00.000-07:00

Unseen beauty measures silent;
This took a long, long way-
A short, little gray blindness of metal
Rosily taken, unremarkably spun.

At one dark turn, it was a forever
And "ever" meant "meaningful";
Sweetly bitter tears caught silky,
A sticky, screaming vow of poverty
As perhaps, some lady's friend.

Still now, it stays, stays rushing
The meekest rough thread in and out,
Barely through a daily smile-to-smile,
A barely-course, almost sinister.

All angers and humors take to
Destroy vanity into a simple mind, for...
It was not hard before, not anymore.
Still in love, it softly caresses this
Unreasoned oddity of scrubbing work.

Somewhere, the virgin form exists
All broken and innocent as before-
Soft was awfully hard, then.

Grain of Desire

2010-08-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

The buried, endless want
Falls a straight path- down
Like a closing, yearning vow, penning
that almost silent wish.

Like spring, it falls, hits
not enough, not even full once;
Eventually it mourns, instead
upright and dreaming time away.

Here, it shall be- far, well marked
when you are long gone,
The perfect conclusion, doled
to this backwards-reaching seed.

Emptying

2010-08-08T16:01:00.000-07:00

We live in a forever; It falls
in a bell jar- capped,
sealed with maybes, have nots
Should haves- little lights, burning
in long pillars of faith.

Waxing, never waning
from the sunken clarity,
We are but born, and donning
The finest we could hope for.

Beautiful, as we wait-
Smiles like spiders, climbing up
up like eternal baby saplings- rich, but bent
Where the world curves in.

Magic, it seems- magic to uncap,
To look straight ahead
in a world of ruthless angling,
Moving windows and tipping walls,
To break this, somehow, as it falls.

It

2010-08-08T15:56:00.000-07:00

Beautiful, beautiful- we twirl
The intricately laced insides, shyly,
Until they cascade, flash
The ghosts of awkward and dumb.

This is the moment,
The pinnacle, the pain
Surging where we are not
As exactly as we be.

This is royalty- we make
A light way in this world,
Colors mixing mad, as we please,
Endless as borrowed time.

Dream's Doll

2010-08-08T15:54:00.000-07:00

She smiles, truly hapless,
A creature of not thought,
Not love, true longing,
Not really existing- right?

She aches at the core, the
Plunging, surging maze-
Caught in endless spotlight
Where all the problems hide.

A story, a story- a dead heart
Told, untold, told,
Interchangeable, perhaps,
But sad, and a bit real anyway.

Magnolia VII

2010-08-07T22:34:00.000-07:00

She saunters forth, the lady,
To sway at her will
(for the wind is about the same).

Here is all new polish, all grace
Bearing so steady, heavy
Like the hope of endless sun-
Tragic, but wise and true.

Most pearls now folded away,
Never is it so simple,
So kind and touching a light-
Only decidedly still.

Soul Like Water

2010-08-07T22:28:00.000-07:00

My mother sings a fragile song,
A mystery, for anyone else
Who hears but the words.

Broken, they tangle, dive a thousand leagues
To where they truly breathe-
A silvery, ghostly binding,
Beyond to the misty, mistaken core.

Here, they gather, gather
Unsifted, cold, unwanted,
Blue web like the ocean above
Until the waters break to strands.

Starry-eyed

2010-08-07T22:25:00.000-07:00

To live in a place with a million stars,
Each, bold with colored fire,
Cut to burn eternally, however soft.

A million- touchable, real,
no numbers, once lost, no grief
To bear such a burden.

One million, and I will fly
Where no one can reach or grab me,
For this is the fall.

As It Is

2010-08-07T22:24:00.000-07:00

I live in a world where things exist as overstatements, and yet, are not spoken at all.

I live in a world where things exist, and somehow that is enough. For everyone.

The wondering, wandering, and maddening desire to know more prevails.

There are no absolutes. Only absolute pleasure in the spurts of understanding.

You don't think this is real?

It's very real. Look not to prove it. Look to see.

Mourning

2010-08-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

What secrets lay forbidden and smiling,
Says the far back, the heart of hearts,
Spread, arms wide and clumsy,
So lushly open, yet mysterious?

A shy, shy matter- just eager
Running with the fount of life even
As it overflowed and gave
This all her bold, bold pleasure.

Now, to apologize,
To be shy, quiet
Once more.
The phantom of that happy
Place, she isn't ready to run away.

Cleaned

2010-08-07T22:16:00.001-07:00

The glory of a thousand thoughts-
It used to spread, dissect
Its mistakes, its secrets alone.

Shadows became friends, neighbors,
Trading meager light, little life
warmer and warmer.

Plain as day, they seduced the flames
Now hungry, truly pulled out, (up, about)
Truly shrunken away-
A pounce from an empty post.

But a Moment's Notice

2010-08-07T22:12:00.000-07:00

She stands before me,
Her smile always sad.
The music plays around her-
My symphony.

She does not see
Never saw, actually,
But the eyes ebb all away.

Becoming, Permanently

2010-07-30T00:09:00.001-07:00

I live- but a ghostly reflection,
A phantom body
Of what I could be (and am).

I thrive- but an endless struggle
Beneath the clearest understanding,
The sheer clarity,
Like a sky on the sky.

I search- but a puzzling treat
To what I already know-
To savor, to redraw the choices.

I am a moving magic,
An ongoing revolution- to define,
Redefine my change, I say!

I am not perfect, but I,
I am to stay this way.

Origami

2010-07-30T00:05:00.000-07:00

Each fold- a potential, physical
Dive from the probable,
A new shadow, a sound
Brushing against the others.

Each tuck, a verb whispered
For itself- the entity, subject
Coming to life, deeply detailed.

Black. And White. It seams,
It arrives methodically
That my soul should grow wings.

Battle Cry

2010-07-26T16:10:00.001-07:00

Fire and ice, a layer
Long spread on the glass-
A glaze, separated,
Less than complete.

Pull the shields, the silence
From the infinite turns, niches,
The secrets from the tamed-
The war begins noble.

Sit still, and it follows,
Paints a canvas of soot
(Smiling eyes don't see).
Overturn yourself in the night,
And uncover a prowess long set.

On the Pedestal

2010-07-25T23:58:00.000-07:00

The finest of them,
The most eminent
Swerved, dodged narrowly
The sweet, sweet coronation.

The highest, the obscure,
The worthy of pride-
Cast like a thousand sighs
Upon the disjointed sea-
He stands alone in sunrise.

The rest, young and old,
Reaching or pulling,
Say a prayer, smile for him.

Shadow

2010-07-25T23:56:00.001-07:00

A smiling, crouching shadow
Sings the sweetest lullaby-
Stooped, yet linked
In the night a thousand shades.

Only then, in the pool of light
Is it simple, just
As any love, found alone-
Mercy and truce.

The days are fooling,
The endless turning times
But the lightest cogs
In a turning, turning shift.

Chattering Essay

2010-07-25T22:57:00.000-07:00

Spices-the magicians pieced
All the sensations, left as keys
To a sister of the soul-
Thrown in arcs, circumventing
What seems to be a point.

Concentric? A bit accented
In the illusion particular,
The allusion circulating-
One of the old breed.

Yet, so far from the origin
We sit and watch,
Stand and clap
For one of ours- at best
A collector, magpie-plumed.

Expectation

2010-07-25T22:54:00.000-07:00

Marked silence? She sits,
Stands from a falling throne-
Her crown waits, she says.

It is gone, only hoped,
Only dreamed, dreamed away
The only heir she so kept.

The last question,
Before the light caved
To a coughting empty world-
What is left?

Legends of Hope

2010-07-24T21:23:00.000-07:00

Transcending- but a glimpse
To the finest, behind the eye,
Behind the scattering
Of any light at all.

There, it waits, in the glory
So blind to see, shrouded-
The strong voice- echoing
That tangling, spidery song.

The true gods that run us,
They empty this little world,
Drown in tears at her feet,
Come washing back to us all.

Luxuries

2010-07-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

The bars, like gold wires
Drawn from smooth flame-
In these cold nights, they bow
A bending, wondrous welcome.

Pulling, pulling, the molten cage,
The unhammered rivers fall
Quite minutely, a magic told
The air around to cave, to
Spread some weakness and fly.

It's all just to fall, unhampered
As broken voices speak tongues-
A past forgotten, uncatching,
The empty molds a-waiting.

Damsel in Distress

2010-07-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

She was perfect in her own way, perfect like no one else could be. Unapproachable, perhaps, in about three of her facades, but perfect. Perfect was a moving state, you see, a transient state waiting for the next perfect, the better perfect. I really wish she would find that perfect, perfectly. I've been wishing this for a very long time, you see. When the next time comes, and maybe she comes around, maybe I'll stop.

Perhaps I already missed my stop. Perhaps that's why I'll keep missing her, and I can't be wishing anymore.

I'm not the princess, and never should be. I'm not the damsel in distress, and never will be.

Tempter

2010-07-24T21:10:00.000-07:00

Climbing, borrowing of the dark
its finest gems and stolen furs,
They lost and pass unseen.

Her wild, wild eyes, slip,
Fragilely tousled hair-
An overbloom of a dream
Who looks the other way.

For such common rarities,
The strings were long set, knotted
In dangerous parallel; the sky falls
And never quite picks up.

Apocalyptic Fractal

2010-07-23T17:39:00.000-07:00

In staining succulence, overflowing
A rising mathematical sky,
Precision falls too easy- rushing
Sand ro rock, coals to diamonds.

The blood of the land found
A closed improbability,
Streaked deep in solemn earth,
Pulling in over out in rapid course.

The sea became a broken sky,
The globe curved beyond as
A bare heaven showed jagged streams
And its store of forever sunset.

Entitlement

2010-07-23T17:26:00.000-07:00

The not-so-simple direction
Not-so-simple perception
Argue simple,
Beat the solemn speech.

A psyche tips a drunken toast,
A mute stutter
To the kings of the hill,
Always starving and getting richer.

An unsimplified gown, trained
Unsimplified shoes higher
Tossed coiffed, unsimplified hair
All under a crown new currency forced
Upon this rarity
(it was complicated, before).

Now, she totters forth
For the crowds of simplified,
Feeling more and more a queen.

Friendly Monster

2010-07-23T17:21:00.001-07:00

Letting go is simple, why
The thing falls up, clawing,
Shredding gravity, screaming
At rare, questioned mercy.

It climbs, beyond the trees
With curlicue written love,
Black as the day it first drank
The brilliance of the sun.

Your name, in unending lights, now-
Ugly black tears, unsmearing
Where you didn't swallow them,
Such shallow, shallow agony!

Your name, an old vow
Sworn and signed all over the sky-
Unbroken, unfulfilled, gone,
It's still yours.

Disillusionment Up

2010-07-23T17:17:00.001-07:00

Dispossess the sky,
Disposses the loving, the yearning
Nothing the soul holds
So close, perhaps its only friend.

One by one, it slips,
Silvery strings fly free
So thick in the air, it clears
A quick, coughing wind.

We can only look on, soon.
The pain comes, not just before
And never leaves anymore.
We reach, but never grasp,
We grab, and fall further,
We fall, and may never rise.

Sweetest Dreams

2010-07-23T17:08:00.001-07:00

A faraway sound in my ear
Tunes me away, only to hear
Glass blown kisses mixing nights bitter,
Scraping sugar crystals across the sky.

Cinnamon swept night, to day,
Dries the crisp, yet shyest
Sigh through the shimmering veil.

The clouds float an empty foam-
Drip drops a rainy, rainy world
Upon a molasses moment, stalled.

Pink Pearls

2010-07-23T17:04:00.001-07:00

Uncontained in its pride
Just to be the sunset's sea,
Just a second.

It chimes a cascade, a jangling
Of a world never painted-
Skipping shyest desires
Gasping, floating at the gills.

Far lay the empty liquid sands
Barren, and still sinking away,
Mined of all but fantasy.

Day and Night

2010-07-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

The finest of them, sweet
Strayed a steady course,
hid a shadow behind.

Her sisters, seeing more beautiful
Finer a worldly mind,
Walked firmly, disappeared
Darkly through the glass.

The finest sunsets, the longest
Threads spun on the sea-
They were gifted mist and dew,
Wove over but mercy's night.

The last of them, sweet fairest
Stayed at the barest point;
All jealousy choked at Dawn
As the light was pawned back.

Shame? What Shame?

2010-07-23T16:57:00.001-07:00

The refinement of a thousand years,
Her sweet ocean eyes glow
Empty as the pearly sky;
The fairest countenance, a blush
Near wasteful as the steady lace,
Seaming each and every virtue-
A hidden corset tied.

Perfect in every way,
My dignity finds solace
And no solace at all.

Enchantress

2010-07-16T22:03:00.000-07:00

She strokes the finest stores of mind,
Sweet reservoir eyes, shining
hair a running river;
All but the scent, an exotic rose.

Her complexion swirls, brighter
Than any Indian summer night,
Two still lanterns wrapping coals
To a new, low strumming.

The spirits of the deepest fires
Forged her unapproachable charm-
Smiths lost in eternal sands
Wrought a beauty, so written,
For otherwise defeated nights.

My Finest Friend

2010-07-16T21:58:00.001-07:00

She rages, loves, laughs
Through my gray somber eyes-
Caught in our own spell,
Neither of us see too much.

At once, fire and ice were one,
Unable, in their natures,
To find the sweetest bloom, not one
Amid their finest forces.

We steal time- it comes empty,
In clean scooped puddles without her.
Barely drained in her warm tones,
They only glow richly, beautifully
Beneath her smiling, full moon.

Beyond Giants

2010-07-16T21:54:00.000-07:00

A small person is gifted,
Sparingly, the biggest secrets-
Lying awake, in his small space
In his small soul, in his soul's soul.

It becomes a journey, a fight
He wants and needs- he is lithe,
Tipping, walking the line
Between glory and vanity.

This world seems to big, too low, up
For anyone on that tightrope,
Dangling between
The man next in line and
Too many means and ends.

On My Own

2010-07-16T21:43:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes and he is there,
Sweet tendrils of touch and feel- lukewarm
Spewing, raging from memory-
He calls the name of another.

Without flaw, without faith of plot
Runs one night to the next;
My dreams draw the finest shards
Of a poor mirror's broken kaleidoscope.

To yearn is empty, passions thrive,
Hide, and shroud my old crudity-
Secretly spartan walls unsightly,
Still alone at siege's end.

Exposed

2010-07-16T21:36:00.000-07:00

Right at my hands,
My mind has two halves
Pulled open- to rust, to mingle,
To suffocate each other (briefly).

The mysteries only tantalize,
Tempt at some endless possibility
Reveling in a dance of the dark.

In the light, all is quiet,
The chandelier still swings
A melancholy creak-
Another closed door lost.

Cold Journey

2010-07-16T21:34:00.001-07:00

These questions were once answers
As answers, again, become questions-
Infinite knowledge confines- lost
In small boxes, one by one.

The divine leap is far away-
To dream beyond a plotted field,
Beyond the milky river, leaking
Such intricacies, fancies
Need not, yet needed- we follow.

Soon, we are beyond the doubters,
Lost voices calling us back, darkly
To the endless circles, the company
Of mirrors in right and wrong.

Aligning Souls

2010-07-12T18:48:00.001-07:00

We walk in silence, not fear-
Simple splashes of vibrant blossom
Grace, fall so faintly
To the empty eyes of Far Away.

We walk in comfort, not certainty-
The fragrance abundant, filling
Its own admiration, stops
Before any devotions (still impossible).

We walk in truth, not luxury-
This spring won't always be
Quite so teeming, so merciful-
The breeze blows sweet, indecisive.

We walk softly, not rippling
Our water lily roots-
They sink beyond the painting,
Fall to endless watercolor ponds.

Intricate Optimism

2010-07-12T18:36:00.001-07:00

A disgusting thief is greed,
Which prods at sleeping shame-
That poor, dull face
Long far from that pain.

Yet, the plunder pushes, defies
What seems to be its pulse,
To all, but some hidden, lost heir
Its darkness truly bequeath.

The only, so common escape?
To be born a sin, yet bearing
As a fugitive trader, Unknowns
Stolen from beyond the dark.

The Heavenly Plane

2010-07-12T18:32:00.000-07:00

Angels are to be dreamed of,
And aren't so far away at all.
They talk so strange, some say,
One finds they rarely call.

It's not so fearful, not so strange,
To be silent, and to hear
Simple words, simple tales
As pain we know so clear.

The kindest souls we come to be
When to us are fortunes clear-
When we dream as reading hearts
And not as mirrored fear.

Infinity

2010-07-12T18:30:00.000-07:00

When the designated end is lost,
A simple vagary misplaced,
Beginnings begin, and
Endings end, in between.

At the last of the light,
Of the true, thin, black line-
Between is's(and "is not"'s)-
Yet another start.

Emotions

2010-07-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

Are we meant to cry
Just as we laugh- easily,
And so well?

Breathtaking, it reaches
Our very core- we shake,
Possessed, are gone
By trajectory of thought;
We close our eyes, our ears
So caught, redhanded-
The art of living.

Only in dreams, though,
Have I trembled in such sorrow.

Life- we lift so high, then plummet
To grow our wings
Until, at last, we barely recall
Just when we're due to fall.

Mixing of Ideals

2010-07-04T23:20:00.000-07:00

If only miracles occured
To save, and just for love.

Battlefields die, yet empty
Of ghosts present and past;
Hospitals, too- but still full
Of not dying, not waiting-
A maze of emergency rooms
Where small sufferings rarely end.

Reach further,
Beyond words, colors, and sounds.
Reach further, Beyond,
And any old Evil becomes good.

The Knitted

2010-07-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

I smile upon this-
A simple hour, so blessed
With the infinite mysteries...
In certainty, of course!

Each stitch- a narrow room
Full of chatter and light,
Written books, even,
Meant for the smallest soul.

Here is the art of possible,
Pounding away at impossible
To nearly frayed thread.

I piece so many-
Little up-wind, down-wind,
Crevices of barely-shadow.
They open and close-for me-
In infinite variation.

The Universe, Today.

2010-07-04T16:01:00.001-07:00

It exists, strong and lasting-
A yarn of simple years,
With me as love began,
Still with me.

We were once tied-
(To God Himself)
Now merely ourselves,
Our souls are so tangled,
Frayed by the time.

I hold it in my hands,
Firmly, yet so light.
It frays so little today.

Healing Mantra

2010-07-04T15:42:00.000-07:00

I shall purge myself of all things by immersing myself completely in their beauty.
I shall clear myself of all thoughts by letting them fill me, one at a time, until they all strain and purify.
I shall purify my tabula rasa by filling it and letting all pass from it gently.
I shall speak by listening and filling my actions with sincerity.
I shall be free by exiling my desires where they may be one with the world.
I shall be timeless by immersing myself in time and passing with it.
I shall think and be thoughtful by setting my obligations free.
I shall spare the life of my obligations by giving them freedom.
I shall fulfill my obligations by befriending the life of the mind.

In this, I shall be whole.

Dear World,

2010-07-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

Note that I feel shame, for
Finding,
Seeking,
Looking on- just for Beyond,
Which I strive for.

Pen after pen,
Notion after notion-
Taken from an endlessness,
It becomes mine, somehow.

Soon, this shall be mine,
So very mine.
You will not be mad,
So very mad.

For now, I am my cage.
You are your cage.
I'm not yours, AND
You're not mine.
Yet. If ever. With love.

Know- Something Knew

2010-06-30T23:46:00.000-07:00

What one man says
(If he thinks he know),
Generally go, and well so.

Once more men come,
And more men come go,
He go lost, and he don't know.

He never said he know,
He said he knew.
And now the world has grew.

Yet, as they come go,
They see, and they know-
He know, they know...
Enough for, to know, not knew.
Never. Knew not enough.

Djinn

2010-06-30T23:41:00.000-07:00

No other vessel of my humble soul
Is so free to live boldly, to speak
Its phantom art of mind;
Yet, I am possessed just the same.

His eyes are narrow, fierce
With only small wonder-
Small flakes in a shallow stream, pure gold.
A current blurs
time against the tide.

As if he had a planet,
And I, but its faraway star-
We watch its lonely fate turn,
His dusty trail around the teartracks.

One day, he'll stand alone,
Sighing at the last glass jar,
The lamp I held all this time.
Gone, I will be, with all my wishes.

Magnolia Tree Revisited

2010-06-30T23:34:00.000-07:00

It was I who was mistaken-
Seasons do not follow,
Old words could not lead
Some tale of true permanence.

Sweet, blushing green, still sharp
Cuts from the shadows, intricate,
Until they are clearly jigsawed away,
Swiftly peeled, near unseen,
From the secrets of each breeze.

Here, the only place so pure-
The warmth truly rests, lays
In ripple pools across glass shadow,
(For the summer turns such tides).

Here, the start of suspended pride-
Cracks and crevices holding unfaded sky,
All amid blessed creamy frame, wrought
For the most delicate trickle of light.