I have not written a poem in months. This saddens me as the year is coming to a close, so I hereby declare that I am going to write more poems this next year.
Shall I not have poems to write, I will post completed lists from Curious Lists: A Creative journal for list-lovers... I suppose this is a warning.
:)
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Daybreak in O-Town (2003)
When I get to be a composer
I'm gonna write me some music about
Ideas in my dreams
And I'm gonna put the purdiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a tall building vanishing into the low clouds
And falling out of heaven like a ran drop's good luck charm
I'm gonna put some determination in it
And the scent of a clear lake
And the smell of a storm in the distance
And how it isn't always easy to get up
And break away from a tired body
And big jumps
And the happiness
Of good intentions mixed with accomplishments
And I'm gonna put broken bindings
And new people who bring new ideas
And new dreams
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about ideas in my dreams
written March 6, 2003
I'm gonna write me some music about
Ideas in my dreams
And I'm gonna put the purdiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a tall building vanishing into the low clouds
And falling out of heaven like a ran drop's good luck charm
I'm gonna put some determination in it
And the scent of a clear lake
And the smell of a storm in the distance
And how it isn't always easy to get up
And break away from a tired body
And big jumps
And the happiness
Of good intentions mixed with accomplishments
And I'm gonna put broken bindings
And new people who bring new ideas
And new dreams
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about ideas in my dreams
written March 6, 2003
One strike and you're out (2003)
I struck you down
I hit you with my baseball
The one you gave me
Years ago
When we used to play at the park
Together
We'd play baseball, just you and I
We'd take turns hitting the ball into the field
We'd take turns running the bases, and chasing after each other
With a baseball closed in the grip of our hands
We would laugh, jump, scream
All sounds of fun
You gave me a baseball for my birthday
A simple gift, with so much meaning.
A good-luck charm for games
You helped me practice, outside of school practice
You gave me two thumbs up
Every time I hit the ball on the field
Even if it didn't get any points for my team.
I struck you down with y baseball.
It took you more time to realize that happened
Than it did for me to throw that ball
With all the might
My tricky pitch that was good at striking out.
I struck you out.
I struck you down
With the pitch, you helped me have.
I threw the memories of a smile on the field
I pitched your love, your kindness,
Your meaning to me
Away.
I don't remember a better pitch
I used the very baseball
Used to bring me up, to strengthen me,
To bring you down.
Yes, I did.
You gave me a baseball
Last year
For my birthday
You gave me a baseball to say "I love you"
You gave me a baseball
Because you loved me
And I used this baseball
One season later
To strike you out
To pay you back for your love of baseball ending
I struck you with my baseball
Because you gave up on baseball altogether
You took up basketball.
I did not give you a basketball for your birthday
By then you had left
Me, my game, baseball, and my love
In the outfield.
One season later
I pitched the best pitch ever
And I struck you out
Not in three, but in one
One throw of the ball, and a trail of emotions
I watched my ball hit its target
Good throw, if I don't say so myself
You weren't expecting it.
Not a baseball
Not the baseball you gave me
Not me.
You weren't expecting anything
You just stared at me
As if you forgot what baseball is
Only basketball has any meaning to you
And here you were
Face to face with your past
A memory you forgot had meaning
A game you forgot you knew
And now you remember
And now it hurts.
written January 27, 2003
I hit you with my baseball
The one you gave me
Years ago
When we used to play at the park
Together
We'd play baseball, just you and I
We'd take turns hitting the ball into the field
We'd take turns running the bases, and chasing after each other
With a baseball closed in the grip of our hands
We would laugh, jump, scream
All sounds of fun
You gave me a baseball for my birthday
A simple gift, with so much meaning.
A good-luck charm for games
You helped me practice, outside of school practice
You gave me two thumbs up
Every time I hit the ball on the field
Even if it didn't get any points for my team.
I struck you down with y baseball.
It took you more time to realize that happened
Than it did for me to throw that ball
With all the might
My tricky pitch that was good at striking out.
I struck you out.
I struck you down
With the pitch, you helped me have.
I threw the memories of a smile on the field
I pitched your love, your kindness,
Your meaning to me
Away.
I don't remember a better pitch
I used the very baseball
Used to bring me up, to strengthen me,
To bring you down.
Yes, I did.
You gave me a baseball
Last year
For my birthday
You gave me a baseball to say "I love you"
You gave me a baseball
Because you loved me
And I used this baseball
One season later
To strike you out
To pay you back for your love of baseball ending
I struck you with my baseball
Because you gave up on baseball altogether
You took up basketball.
I did not give you a basketball for your birthday
By then you had left
Me, my game, baseball, and my love
In the outfield.
One season later
I pitched the best pitch ever
And I struck you out
Not in three, but in one
One throw of the ball, and a trail of emotions
I watched my ball hit its target
Good throw, if I don't say so myself
You weren't expecting it.
Not a baseball
Not the baseball you gave me
Not me.
You weren't expecting anything
You just stared at me
As if you forgot what baseball is
Only basketball has any meaning to you
And here you were
Face to face with your past
A memory you forgot had meaning
A game you forgot you knew
And now you remember
And now it hurts.
written January 27, 2003
The End of Endless Months (2003)
It has been awhile, since we last looked at each other
Almost two months, I believe
Two months since we exchanged glances
And still, your picture is still clear in my mind
It's only been a few days since I heard your voice
We talk, again, after just over a month of silence
Over a month before a couple weeks ago,
More than six months went by.
Only three months before those six months
I first met you.
I remember that day.
That day, that today, is 11 months ago.
Eleven months ago
That day we first met is
And it's hard to believe how much we all change
Good things and bad
All happen with the good amount of time.
Things happen to me, that you don't like
Things happen to me that I don't like
Things happen to us both, and maybe, we don't like.
And the months still go on.
In eleven months, we've come a long way.
Far from where we used to be
Both good and bad changes
But changes that we see in each other
Maybe not noticeable to others, outsiders,
Some people might not notice,
Not care, not want to care
But we know.
In one month, it will be one year since I met you.
How much we've changed in this year.
In one month, I will be twelve months older
I will have seen twelve months of changes
In both of us
in these twelve months
Twelve months, are still on month away
Even more can change in this one month
The month after the two weeks of talking
The two weeks of reflecting the long month of silence
The long silence that came after the six months
The six months where things seemed good
Where maybe, they wouldn't end.
Those endless months came
After the three months after the day we first met
And those endless months came
And turned into a month and a half of silence
Out meeting turned into three months
Those three, turned into nine,
Then eleven
And in one month
It will be twelve months since we met.
Twelve months since we started counting the numbers.
Months that turned into something else.
And those twelve months turn into one;
One year
one year, after we first met.
Almost two months, I believe
Two months since we exchanged glances
And still, your picture is still clear in my mind
It's only been a few days since I heard your voice
We talk, again, after just over a month of silence
Over a month before a couple weeks ago,
More than six months went by.
Only three months before those six months
I first met you.
I remember that day.
That day, that today, is 11 months ago.
Eleven months ago
That day we first met is
And it's hard to believe how much we all change
Good things and bad
All happen with the good amount of time.
Things happen to me, that you don't like
Things happen to me that I don't like
Things happen to us both, and maybe, we don't like.
And the months still go on.
In eleven months, we've come a long way.
Far from where we used to be
Both good and bad changes
But changes that we see in each other
Maybe not noticeable to others, outsiders,
Some people might not notice,
Not care, not want to care
But we know.
In one month, it will be one year since I met you.
How much we've changed in this year.
In one month, I will be twelve months older
I will have seen twelve months of changes
In both of us
in these twelve months
Twelve months, are still on month away
Even more can change in this one month
The month after the two weeks of talking
The two weeks of reflecting the long month of silence
The long silence that came after the six months
The six months where things seemed good
Where maybe, they wouldn't end.
Those endless months came
After the three months after the day we first met
And those endless months came
And turned into a month and a half of silence
Out meeting turned into three months
Those three, turned into nine,
Then eleven
And in one month
It will be twelve months since we met.
Twelve months since we started counting the numbers.
Months that turned into something else.
And those twelve months turn into one;
One year
one year, after we first met.
Old School
I have been writing poetry for years. In fact, at one point in my young life I wanted to be a songwriter for Brittney Spears.
But today, while cleaning my room, I have come across some old poems. The ones that were dated were from January 2003, I would have been in 9th grade. Another one is inspired by a trip to Florida, also my freshman year.
The next three posts are these poems. Enjoy.
But today, while cleaning my room, I have come across some old poems. The ones that were dated were from January 2003, I would have been in 9th grade. Another one is inspired by a trip to Florida, also my freshman year.
The next three posts are these poems. Enjoy.
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Gull
I have met many gulls
but none quite like you
For every time I came to the sea
right to me you flew.
When I tossed you crackers
you ate them from the sand.
And if I had bread crumbs,
you'd eat them from my hand.
It's been years since I've been there
and in these years I've grown.
All of the gulls I've seen
I see none that I've known.
You'd look like any gull
no one could tell you apart.
But every time you came to me
you became familiar to my heart.
I have a passion for the water
I find peace in every shore.
And I now understand why:
it's more than the dunes I live for.
It's the gulls that I long to see
the white, the grey, the black.
And as one by one they fly away,
I hope it's you that's flying back.
"I guess I'll look for you tomorrow"
As today's sun sets behind the sea.
But deep inside I'll always hope,
that you're really looking for me.
written January 2007
but none quite like you
For every time I came to the sea
right to me you flew.
When I tossed you crackers
you ate them from the sand.
And if I had bread crumbs,
you'd eat them from my hand.
It's been years since I've been there
and in these years I've grown.
All of the gulls I've seen
I see none that I've known.
You'd look like any gull
no one could tell you apart.
But every time you came to me
you became familiar to my heart.
I have a passion for the water
I find peace in every shore.
And I now understand why:
it's more than the dunes I live for.
It's the gulls that I long to see
the white, the grey, the black.
And as one by one they fly away,
I hope it's you that's flying back.
"I guess I'll look for you tomorrow"
As today's sun sets behind the sea.
But deep inside I'll always hope,
that you're really looking for me.
written January 2007
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Some Days
Some days are just a wild
feeling of bliss
and other days are just
very hit or miss
And some days we sit and ask
why do we exist?
Today was a storm at sea
though yesterday was quiet
and tomorrow there is
a forecast of riot
But despite what they say
I still won't buy it
For no matter what we
are led to expect
nothing can control
what we really get
and no where will know
if expectations are met
So forever I will prepare
for all types of weather
and hope that as the time goes on
it will only get better
And while I still hope
I'll plan to get wetter.
feeling of bliss
and other days are just
very hit or miss
And some days we sit and ask
why do we exist?
Today was a storm at sea
though yesterday was quiet
and tomorrow there is
a forecast of riot
But despite what they say
I still won't buy it
For no matter what we
are led to expect
nothing can control
what we really get
and no where will know
if expectations are met
So forever I will prepare
for all types of weather
and hope that as the time goes on
it will only get better
And while I still hope
I'll plan to get wetter.
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