Sisters Alike and Different

I am the thorn bush,

Whose prickly briars hide a rose or two.

She is the cat,

Whose playful paws hide wickedly sharp claws.

We are siblings, as alike and similar as that entails,

Growing apart with an age difference like separate eras.

When strangers approach, we are both outgoing,

But in bearing we are strangers.

Where she lives for a crowd,

I need no one but myself (and a friend or two).

In vengeance we differ,

Where I lack, she flourishes.

We are both quick to anger,

But fickle in emotion.

We both enjoy a crowd,

But as mine encroaches, hers is limelight.

Our values are on the opposite ends of a spectrum,

But we both enjoy simple pleasures.

At times, we are enemies,

But we are fond of each other

The biggest difference in us,

Is perhaps how we view each other.

Mornings we wake,

And I hope she’s in a good mood.

If not, she’s prepared to be foul,

Rebellion abound, claws out.

Other days, she is overly sweet,

While my own patience is thin.

I am short, quick to anger,

Pushing her away, harsh in manner.

Though sisters we are,

I see no middle point.

She is too young to negotiate

And I am too ornery to treat her as a child.

A Puppet Show

Master Puppeteer

Controls Little Puppet,

Dances and wobbles

Spins and tilts, Little Puppet

Where’s your life, Little Puppet?

Where’s your control, Little Puppet?

Master Puppeteer

Drags Little Puppet

This way and that

Dizzies Little Puppet

Silly Little Puppet,

You are not your own.

Master Puppeteer

Moves you,

Speaks for you,

Who are you now, Little Puppet?

Open mouth of His words

Little Puppet is exhausted

Master Puppeteer,

Introduces Little Puppet,

Shows off Little Puppet,

Clothes him in faded colors

Bells ring, jester-puppet

Answer the call, servant-puppet

Master Puppeteer,

You’re so cruel to Little Puppet

Forgiving make-believe sins

Little Puppet is so lost,

Dancing your dance, Master

Whirling, ringing Little Puppet

Twirling his last twirl,

Before he falls,

Off your cliff, Master.

Goodbye, Little Puppet.

Clocks

Wretched clocks,

With broken faces

Twisted Hands,

In different places

The time is a lie,

Run out and die

On your wrist, trusted friend,

But so many rules to bend

Not enough time,

For all of its crimes

Stories of clockwork,

Like silver-tongued murk

Killing us with rocks,

Don’t trust clocks.

Retardation Through Apathy

-Oct 14, 2010---10:39pm

Apathy is like

Living deep underwater

Where only

Sharks

Reach

But when does apathy turn into neglect?

When does inattention become retardation?

When do thoughts become whole?

Hollywood Whore (Barbie-Doll)

Upturned nose and trendy clothes,

Looking down on us mortals

You live high up in your tower,

Princess with a prince

Throwing hexes and

Bats out of hell,

Cursing, snitching, whining

Oh, no!

Don’t hit me with your purse, Barbie.

Wouldn’t want to hurt the dog.

Poor Sparky’s had enough by now,

I think the sweater’s cutting off his circulation

See his bulging eyes?

Why is he so snippy?

But wait!

Come to think of it,

Reminds you of someone…

Someone…with clothes too tight,

Someone…a little snippy.

Hope your head explodes, Barbie.

You Kill Me (In a Good Way)

If you speak through your guitar,

I think I like who you are.

I like the way your voice moves,

Highs and lows,

Life simplified

I like the way my music sounds,

Caressing my face

Melodies soft

Sound gentle,

Written of pain intangible

If you speak through your sound,

I know you.

Beats, tempo, emotion

Harsh, gentle,

Sad, angry, happy

Music like art,

Rippling through our bodies to create,

Works of art, Pieces of soul,

Bringing us forth from ourselves

If you speak through your art,

We are the same.

I can feel the way

My music reaches through my body,

Creating something bigger than myself,

Creating the bigger picture.

Your music, your guitar, your voice,

Reaching through you,

Transcendental spirit,

Enlightened angels

We are not as it makes us,

We are shadows of the beauty it leaves behind

If you speak to me in your music,

I think I know you.

L'inconnue de la Seine ("Unknown Woman of Seine")

Woman of Seine:

What were your problems?

How can it be,

That your death

Inspired hundreds for years?

What thoughts did you carry?

And what burdens on your shoulders?

What brought you to such

Beauty

In death?

Did you jump, Woman of Seine?

Did you fall?

Why were you there?

Why was no one enough,

For you to live on?

What sadness tinges your features,

What peace on your face?

Are you happier now, Woman of Seine?

Do you keep your beauty

In the afterlife?

Or is it stripped,

By lack of sadness, peace, fear?

Are you beautiful with your eyes open?

Are you still pretty when you are not

Shrouded in mystery,

Fame birthed by your death.

What did you want, Woman of Seine?

What did we take from you,

By changing who you are,

To fit our art?

How did you find peace,

Or are you still wandering?

Did you ever have dreams,

For when you were older, Woman of Seine?

Did you have a party next week?

A birthday in a few months?

Why were you unhappy,

And why did no one save you?

Did they not understand you?

No one today can ever hope to understand you

Now.

Who knew you, Woman of Seine?

Who are you now?

Life's Game

Life

Is an endless game

Where everyone

Tries

To make you believe

That imperfection is

Ugly

But when you can see

Their lies,

You win.

Smoke

Margin of the Mind,

The limiting thought

Rushing, pelting

Stormwind hail

The fighting and pleas

Of a back-and-forth storm

Wind fighting material,

Tangible v. intangible

Ding-ding, fight begins,

No punches pulled,

Battering my body amid the gale

Whipping me through the skies,

Blackened by rain and

Clouds of soot

Pulling me through the air

Helplessly,

Until I wither

Away

Into smoke

Die, My Darling

The day

When

They take

The air from my lungs,

And

The blood from my body

Will be the

Day

They get

What they all fucking want.

Crystal Skulls

Chattering teeth

Flashing smiles like grimaces

They never speak true,

These crystal skulls.

Sparkling, flashy

Like Las Vegas lights

Embedded with diamonds,

Models on runways,

They hunger for me,

These crystal skulls.

Rigid in their shapes,

But everchanging in light

Eye-catching candy

Beautiful and intriguing,

They lie to me,

These crystal skulls.

Diamonds flashing rainbows at me

Blinded by sparkles

Seeing white lights,

Death and perfection,

They shape and change me,

These crystal skulls.

Surrounded by crystal skulls,

Resting on thin stick-bodies

Whispering.

Flat square teeth

Eyes caught above,

Unable to see their hands,

Wielding sharp knives and pens

They kill and cut me,

These crystal skulls.

Voices Speak Together

Nate

The living room

Sits,

Silently,

Waiting for movement,

Noise.

But nothing’s coming.

This is Dad’s quiet time.

The time he’s been stuck in for weeks

Since his decline.

He’s sick. Not getting better.

I look to his dark skin and eyes,

black hair so much like my own.

Face with my features.

He stares at the television as if it holds the answers

To Mom’s death

And his disease.

I stare at him

And hope

For answers, too.

Emily

Voices surround me, close me in

Block out the outside.

Mother

Yells

Brother

Yells

They say words I can’t understand.

Won’t understand until I

Can

Heal the

Wounds inside.

Of pain

Of sadness

Of anger

Words float through the air. I push them away

Out-of-control, alone, arrested!

Single, alone, old…

Mother gasps and pushes Brother into his room, forcing him

To submit.

He pushes her back, into her own room.

Don’t even know you anymore!

As if you cared…

What makes walls between people we love?

Is it the love that separates them or is it the people who love?

Why is there a wall between Mother and Brother that no one can patch?

If they loved each other more, would they still fight?

Mother turns into her room and Brother follows

Screaming, pointing, accusing.

 I sit silently and stare

Away.

Christina

My mother still owns me

Years after I’ve left the house

Years after I’ve graduated college

Everyday, she still

Controls

Me.

She tells me I cannot grow out my hair,

I cannot pierce my ears,

I cannot move away from

Her.

Why I am still scared of her,

As if I am five,

When I am really twenty-eight?

I cannot get help; who would care?

Who would face up to

Her?

She says it’s in her

Right.

I am not allowed to have friends

Or talk to men.

Including Daddy.

Daddy doesn’t talk to Mother anymore.

He drinks when I’m here.

Drinks when I’m not.

Watches as she hurts me with words

Sharp enough to cut.

Sometimes, I feel like a failure,

But I’ll keep trying.

I have to.

Davida

He knows I’m watching.

He doesn’t care.

He acts like I’m not here.

If I could learn one thing from him, I know what it’d be.

The unnatural talent

To erase someone’s existence, to ignore them completely

Even as you yell at them.

Mother got smart and left.

I don’t know why she left us behind,

My sister and me,

But I understand how she left,

Almost more than I do myself.

He sits at the dining room table,

Working,

Teaching my sister

The way to be “successful.”

It doesn’t include being as cold as he is to us.

As cruel.

As furious.

He doesn’t even care if, at six,

She already knows she wants to be a teacher.

Teachers have no pay. You can’t pay the bills with books.

He is the reason why

I will never have children of my own.

My worst

Fear

Is turning into

A parent

Like

Him.

Grace

My twin brother and I are nothing alike

The only thing we really share

Is our mother.

Something that he aims to change.

They fight always.

Over everything.

He sleeps at friends’ houses.

At girls’ houses.

He invites me to run, knowing I will not come.

He doesn’t want to share even a last name with me.

I don’t know

Why

The idea of “family” is so repulsive to him

But I know one thing we do share.

We both need

Freedom

To be ourselves.

A luxury our poverty does not allow.

He finds ways to avoid our mother

Even though she’s out eighteen hours a day

Working.

For us

Maybe he wants to be like our father,

There and gone

Not long enough to know him

But

Long enough to miss him.

I know he wants

Out.

But he’s

Too scared

To look for it.

Klein

Lately,

Mom’s been getting old.

She’s losing her youth in front of me.

 I know that it’s Dad’s fault and I hate him for that.

But I can tell he does, too.

I can’t read Mom. I never could.

She works her life away,

Quietly.

Raising as much money as she can to support our hectic family.

Lately

Dad’s been drinking more than he should.

And his self-loathing needs an outlet.

He takes it out mostly on Mom.

Sometimes on me. But

Mostly on

Mom.

Sometimes, I wish

Dad

Would

Leave

Mom alone.

I can see now, as he yells at her.

The wrinkles in her face grow,

Her forehead crinkles,

Her hair turning gray

Before my eyes.

When they fight, I wish.

I hope to God she doesn’t fight back today.

I can tell that when she fights back, she ages years.

More than usual

I contemplate going upstairs,

Hiding the booze,

Running away

With Mom to watch over.

But I know its no use.

I know to give up.

Together

“We speak in different voices.”

It’s true.

Each and every person has their own voice.

You have yours and

I mine.

The six of us, still young, but still fighting,

Step toward the ones we love

“When fighting with the ones we’ve loved.”

We reach out a hand

The fighting stops in surprise

Our voices change with love

They tolerate and bend to forgive

Our loved ones.

“We speak in desperate voices.”

Together, as one, we decide

To forgive

Our loved ones.

We want change for the better

We know what to do

Nate is the first,

He touches his father’s shoulder

There is no reaction, even if he expected one

“When can we say what we’re thinking of?”

Nate leans down and

Kisses his father’s cheek.

Life will get better. It always can.

Yeah Boy and Doll Face

The boy and girl,

Red, blue, red,

Flashing lights, jarring bright

Blurred vision,

Open my eyes:

Dark dark dark

A brilliantly totaled car,

Shattered windshield

Ambulance singing

He’s hurt

Bad bad bad

Unconscious in the driver’s seat

How long have I been here?

Closing my eyes, all I see are his,

Accusing.

Knowing.

He knows what I did

Was this an accident at all?

Hands in white,

Blindingly pale against the black of night

Blood blood blood

Am I hurt?

Hands pull us out, one by one

He’s worse than I thought

Is he alive?

They’ve taken him from me,

Strapped him in,

Has he ever been so

Still

Before?

This sharp pain in my chest

How will I survive this?

Afraid to see the source of pain

Glance down, peek

I’m…

                Spotless.

How could he be so hurt?

Why am I so hurt?

I rush to him

I can’t bear to leave him alone

Do I…?

If he dies,

I’m sure I’ll share his fate

Well,

I guess…

Maybe I do love him.

Don’t

                Leave

                                Me

                                                Now

Home

The intangible being,

Untouchable feeling,

Safe, kind, warm

“Where is home?”

Whinnie the Pooh and all your friends,

Searching, everlasting

Where are you hiding,

And why can’t I find you?

Troubled, mad, crashing,

A house of broken glass

When will you be whole again?

How can I find home,

Without any idea

Where you are?

Looking for a mystery,

A question mark clue

When will I

Find

A place I can be

Home?

Open Heart Surgery

Surgery, surgery

Open heart surgery

Hands covered in blood,

Guilty of perjury

Sticky red spiders

Crawling your skin

Sliding down to the floor

Everlasting sin

Tip toe, tip toe,

Around the dead,

Wouldn’t want them to wake,

And bite off your head

Careful now, doctor,

A twitch, an itch,

One move could be fatal,

Steps away from a ditch

Halloween, Halloween

Spooks and fright,

Ghastly terrors

Awaken at night

Nightmares arise

From the gallows they hung

An old creaky skeleton,

Who’s missing a lung.

Parentless, friendless,

Crying little boy

Alone in the street,

Lost his toy

Angry Ms. Poet,

Too confused to think,

Creating spooky rhymes,

Wishing she’d shrink.

Sea Breeze

Infinite roar

Salty sweet senses

Cawing above, swishing below

Wind whipping you however it can,

Spiteful beast.

The moment you set down your food,

The moment you set down anything, really

The breeze smells like salty ice cream popsicles,

Gritty sand beneath your feet,

Sucking you down into its depths,

Closer, closer

An endless massage, the softest rug

Crabs, seagull, people,

Loud shrieks,

An assault on your ears,

Parents,

Unhappy strangers

Crabs, hermits,

Subjects in a kingdom

Black Cat

A perfect little world,

With their perfect little Barbie.

This is the point in the story where the witch dies,

Water over her head

“Your little dog, too!”

Prince Charming arrives,

Plastic smiles

A royal wedding, talking animals and people alike

Do those woodland creatures do your chores, too, Barbie?

But wait, hold on

Do those smiles look fake to you?

Chaos erupts, the wedding in shambles,

The horse crapped on your dress, the goose sat on the cake

Happily ever after,

Failed honeymoon, no love in sight

The afterward is worse:

Charming spends too much time with the maid

And Barbie?

Well,

She’s a bitch.

A happy ending.

Unique

Unique is feeling like:

The only teenager who listens to music that’s too quiet to hear

The only person to want to understand everything

But being too jaded to understand anything

Thinking I’m the only person who will ever know how I think

                (Which is not the same as being understood)

Being simply complicated

And being too thick to be a genius

Being clever, but dense

Apathy warring with empathy

                Fighting tears during vaguely sad movies, being unconcerned with any and all politics

                “Foreign affairs? Terrorism? Presidents?”

Wishing to be something I’m not, while loving who I am

Being witty enough to make enemies anywhere

                But wanting to be best friends with anyone and everyone I meet

Disliking poetry, and writing a blog full of it

Seeing life in metaphors

Exhaustive in effort, too lazy to eat

Everything is prettier in the dark,

                When I can’t see it well

Aspect of Music

Snatching my body from the air,

Like great, drowning ocean waves

Fierce, intangible exhilaration

Couldn’t hear past it if I wanted to:

Pulling me from myself,

Making me into the music, a senseless being

Thoughtless, invulnerable,

Incapable of being touched.

Throbbing bass beating me into tranquility

Singing silently, the loudest scream I’ll ever produce

Looking the best I ever will,

Confidence, exuberance, freedom

Taking me from myself

                What does the music sound like?

                I couldn’t tell you for my life.

Though the music takes me from myself

I am

More me

Than I will ever be.

Make You/Break You

Make You,

Break You.

Two words that

Mean

So

Much.

Make You:

            Happiness,

That amazing feeling of accomplishment

You know you’ve made it

You know you’ve won,

Your battle is over,

You have support like

Iron beams to hold you up.

Break You:

Your life is

Over

Your chance is gone

You regret everything

The smallest thing brings on waves of grief

Like a beggar in the street,

You’re worth nothing.

Others took you and

Threw you away

But you should have

Hope.

Look forward, ask for help

You’re not even

Close

To alone.

Pretty Monsters

Pretty Monsters,

Gorgeous Beasts:

Wild, unknown, foreign creatures

Taking up the world,

An unknown force, an invading army

Aliens taking over the planet.

They pull you from your bed in the dark of the night

And steal away your dreams, Eat your terror

They hide in the light, make you feel safe,

Cut you down

Eat your insides

Then

                You’re

                                Nothing.

Me and You, Against the World

Me and You, Against the World

Everyone’s a stranger

A pretty monster

Everyone’s out to kill you

Take your hope, Beat you down

Fighting off ghosts all day,

Nowhere to turn, no one to trust

Lost in deathly stillness without you

Me and you, baby, against the world

Belief

Want to believe the words

You paint out for me

Want to believe the honeyed words

From your sweet lips

But sometimes

You

                Make It

                                Difficult

Maybe I’m just

Sensitive,

Misreading phrases,

Scrutinizing phrasing and syntax

How do we know

Who is wrong?

Perhaps neither person

Is wrong.

What if we are just

Made of perception:

Brains with mouths,

Led by the fragile heart?

Would that make us illogical?

I want to believe you.

I do believe you.

But there’s a sea with

Raging storms made of

Uncontrollable factors like

People, patterns, places.

I can’t fight off the world for you,

But I know I’ll try anyway.

Weighed down by your

Willingness to be sweet against

People,

Determined to be selfish,

I know you’ll try too.

Maybe one day

We’ll win our battles together

If You Exist,

Help

Me

Be A

Better

Person,

Help me vanquish my ghosts, Let me face my fears

Let me fight my monsters and Conquer my skeletons

Allow

Me

To Be

A

Better

Me,

And

Live

How I

Want to

Be Known

Red Haze

Red haze

Burning eyes

Anger like sparks that need a place to go,

A person to spear

The red haze eating through me,

Pushing its’ way through my system

Outward, making my decisions for me

Spikes, swords, spears,

Impaling innocent victims with my

Sharp words

Anger turning my insides black,

My heart to coal,

My friends to enemies.

Keeping me from what I want,

From my happiness,

From confidence.

Anger pushes away

All thoughts, kindness, happiness

And replaces it with

Hate, malice, harsh words

When will I be above

This ugly emotion,

These irrational

Thoughts?

Perception

Unfaithful words.

Changeable, twisting things

Simple meanings warped by

Perception

What are we to be

Defined

By such changing things?

What does that make me?

Perception,

Twisting the best words

Into curses

Changing strangers into

Hideous Monsters

Changing adults into

Mocking dictators

Changing friends into

Bad habits

Are we all ruled by the heart?

How can someone make a

Choice

Without being twisted

By an unfaithful heart

And its’ sharpened words?

Media Sea

The truest words you ever heard:

A lie of the heart

What you believe

Now,

You’ll lose

Tomorrow.

A victim to my memory,

My changing nature.

My only

Constant

Is my easily swayed heart.

If a sad poem can

change

The color of my world,

How can I find

Myself

Amid a sea of media?

Music Addiction

Let the music pull me up and

Push me through

The room, the air, the stars.

Let it contort me,

Twist me,

Breathe through me.

Let me dance

Like I live music.

Let me live like I breathe

In musical notes.

Flashing through my brain

Jumpstarting my synapses

Adrenaline kicking.

Let the sound

Carry me away

From this life, this world, these people

And throw me into its realm

Where I can fly through the clouds

Free in a matrix of starry-sweet sounds.

Butterfly Thoughts

Inattention

Taking from me

My most valuable asset.

Turned into a vegetable,

Lost in thoughts,

Rumination without purpose

--

Thoughts flying to and fro

Butterflies flitting

Half-formed insects,

Cocoons barely shed.

Wings half-grown,

Thoughts abandoned before conclusions

Butterflies dead before flight.

Stranger

I want to see each snowflake as it falls

And I wish when they melt away,

They take the ice in our hearts

But the snow turns to black mud

And the distrust remains

One day, how will we know our neighbor?

Or have a conversation with our child, our parent?

We are separated by walls of thought,

Spanning our consciousness,

Isolating us in doubt and fear

Does every human lie?

Because I can lie, does that mean I do?

Am I lying to myself?

Because you can lie, does that make me a liar?

Do my words ring false when they are my truth,

But your lie?

Teach me to surpass boundaries,

I want to speak to every person I know as my brother or sister

I want to know you like I know me.

Will you be my friend?

Can we trust each other?

Yew Alley (Hounds of Baskerville)

*written in eighth grade (several years ago) about the Hounds of Baskervilles (a Sherlock Holmes story) by Sir Conan Doyle.


Yew Alley
My breath puffs in front of me
swirling, smoky spheres
My feet hit the ground
Snow crunches underfoot
White, wet wonderland
Frozen
Cold wind sears through my coat
My body hunched into my coat
Shuddering as the cold cuts into me
Freezing, frigid freshness
Icy Pain
The gate sits small in front of me
Holding against the weather
Standing small in the storm
Strong as I am not
Protect, prevail, peaceful
Disappointment
My mouth takes a breath from the cigar
The point of light in darkness
The warmth in the cold night
The star at night
The hound in the moor
Dark, dank devil
Evil
Ash falls to the ground
A howl breaks the silence
My feet slap at the ground
Pushing to go harder
The howl is closer, a pain in my back
Shoving me to the ground
Fiery, ferocious, fallen
Betrayal
She never came
My heart pumps faster
Blood coursing through me
My heart beats as the demon enters it
Betrayal hits every nerve
My hands dig furrows into the Earth's skin
The end is near
The end is here

Chocolate Cocaine

Like kisses from a bee

They sting and bite,

Fester and bleed

Wounds of the heart, dragging me down

 --

How could you say that to me?

Hypocrite of beliefs,

 Don’t preach to me about your insecurities

I don’t need any more

 --

Poisonous words,

Hurting me/Hurting you

I don’t mean to bite.

I want to be happy

 --

How can I get better when you don’t believe me?

Turning my cure into a fear

Turning meds into addiction

Like chocolate cocaine

A Familiar Stranger

A thorn under my skin,

The bonds of blood

Caring too much for someone who

Hates.

Me.

--

My sister and I are different

She lives one way, I live another

We like different things, see things differently, value different things

 An understatement

--

Even if she grew up,

Would I forgive her?

How can I forgive

This hurt?

How can someone

Grow out of their hate?

--

My sister and I may never be friends.

Familiar Strangers