Challenges

In the face of a new challenge, it seems that nothing can pull me down. Gravity holds no meaning in my mind when I'm told what I can and cannot do. My mind knows it strength almost too well. I am taking on a challenge of a lifetime. This is a challenge that defies every egotistical thought I've ever possessed, every ounce of confidence and self-assurance I have ever had to wrangle to pursue the hobby of my dreams and emotions.

This is the thing that shaped me into a new person, and rained upon me like the sweet tears of spring to make me anew. It has been a bittersweet, but more memorable and beautiful entity than anything my mind has discovered within itself. It now must be tested and hounded upon to the very last word. Literally speaking. Every bit of perseverence and all the little blessings that made and will make my heart leap will now be my strength and my determination through something that I've never even come close to perceiving.

In a way, this challenge is a monster. In a way, this challenge is a friend. If I follow through, this challenge may change my life.

I accept it with no fear and no worries. The bull in my mind has been unleashed, not knowing the source behind its anger nor its drive, but knowing only the red flag in the distance and the taunting matador.

National Novel Writing Month- November 2008

Look out, world. I'm coming.

Goodbye and Hello

Goodbye, summer. If you were even present to begin with. My ambitions have robbed me of my youth. In my desperation, my mistakes look more beautiful on the paper than my successes. Time "off" is not time at all.

Fantasies of a life free of school run through my head, but I know for sure they will never be. In all of them, I am fourteen. I am young, meandering through the world wide-eyed. I am a freshman, and the world is new to me. I have no limits. But I am fifteen, in reality. I've been fifteen for months, really. I have responsibilities and sins, no matter how much I hate the latter and rely on the former to keep me in check. I have pressure and disappointment. I have boundaries and people telling me what to be and exactly what to do. I have people telling me to be myself, but I am vehemently shot down when I try to be myself and let my heart find its own way.

In reality, I am a formless bit of clay. Perhaps my true passion will heat up enough and bake my soul in determination, so I may mold the world to my liking and become a sculpture, an unsung legend to sit in the museums of minds and hearts until the fair hands of nature turn me down to let another take my place. Perhaps my heart will harden and cruel reality will hammer its awful flame into me, so that I may be another plain piece of plain ceramic to bring to the table of the idols of money that run this cold world. Or perhaps I will be trampled underfoot like any piece of chewing gum, wildly sweet and defiant by nature and a nuisance to the conformity and chains of the world.

I am excited for my first day, tomorrow. I may spin myself round and round the carousel of my metaphors and dreams, soaring through time and only seeing the blaze of color, but I am human. The wheel of life does not spin without me. I am not a pebble on the side of the road. I am happily caught in the primitive energy of life itself, as that is my purpose and intent. I cannot help but keep up. That is a luxury that I too often take for granted. It has always been present, after all. How can that be enough?

The world lies before me in a blank canvas. I may have the same pencil as all the others, but even then, there are many hues between black and white.

How Do I Answer Myself?

How do you go back when you've thrown yourself out?

How do you step forward when you don't know what you're leaving behind?

How do you ask for something to be returned to you when you didn't know you had it to begin with?

How do you refuse something you tried so hard to take?

How do you let yourself fall into it when you don't know if anyone will catch you?

How do you pull yourself out when your heart doesn't want to argue?

How do you keep walking when the light is so far behind you?

How do you stop when you never knew you were walking?

How do you run straight into the line of fire when you have all the bullets, but no gun?

And yet....

How do you keep hiding in the shadows when your war has already been won?

The Early-bird's Lament

So I had a choir meeting on Thursday morning at 10 AM. But then, there was no way I could get a ride at that time, because my mom leaves for work at 9. So I decided to ask her to take me to school on her way to work. An hour wouldn't be too long to wait, right? Well, I started to think differently once I saw all these other school organizations doing whatever they were doing. I'm naturally introverted, and I haven't come in contact with huge crowds of people in a long time. I just wanted to hide, at one point in time. But then, of course, I needed something to fill up that one hour of loneliness. The drumline was practicing right behind me when I was writing this, so maybe that's why it's got a natural rhythm about it. Or maybe it's just the fact that I was unnaturally focused. I'm usually pretty laidback, but I needed to really drill myself into my words with all the noise around me.
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Decisions lay in untouched mess
While time ambles its solid path.
Regret appears in thoughtful digress
Coated with a sheepish laugh.


As the obligation comes again,
Steady as it was before.
Facing the crowd to real just when
I'd fended off a field of lore.


A powerful desire to disappear
Into the walls I knew too well.
Deep down I know naught to fear
The shadows did my mind repell.


But minutes never sit to rest
And neither should the world.
To find a smile in feared detest
As courage does unfurl.

The World in My Hands

Love puts the world
In the palm of my hand.
To light with a touch.
To rest with a blink.
Once my vision whirled
I soared, my eyes panned.
The world so small, so much
Possibility clogged the sink.
And so imagination swirled.
Overflowed the land.
My heart skipped double dutch.
So much to do, to think!
But a frame is but a square
Vain in my hands,
If one face fills to brink.

Inspiration: Amelia's most recent poem, "Decisions". :) Though I kind of go off on a tangent with my main point.

Improv...I think...

I usually do lots of thinking before I write a poem, but I'd like to try it another way, since I'm in a bit of an experimental stage at the moment. Just set out to write, and beat some creativity into it with a club, to put it in a straightforward way.

The Portrait

A humble facade,
Sharp in contrast
To a dance of pastel,
Creams, patterns,
Jewels so bright,
They appear dull.
Proud figure so full
Of surprised delight,
Complexion lanterns
Cast mystery well,
Deep and steadfast.
As she looks at me,
Can't help but wonder
What I see.

Inspiration: I stumbled upon a journal at TJ Maxx one day. I guess it wasn't beautiful, at first sight, but it really got me thinking. The cover was almost a Mona Lisa on so many levels of my crazy thought process. It happened to have this portrait on the cover: http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u79/ksonniks/ladyAgnew.jpg

Spanish poetry

I usually don't write poetry in Spanish, but I had to do so for a school assignment. Of course, I know enough Spanish to be able to express myself the best I could, and, since this is another milestone in my hobby as a poet, I thought I should show the world!

Sandia

Memorias vidas
Manchado y agotado,
Dulce y familiar;
Rosa, en mi memoria.

Un vez, pegajoso.
Una fragrancia.
Sonrisa de tiempo
En el sol del verano.

Un vez, fresca,
Sencillo y serenidad.
Como mis días
Como mis noches.

Ahora, no más.
Pero el sabor
De mi niñez,
Nunca me olvido.