Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Aspirations: A Poem

Hey, another poem! With every one I do I feel less lame about it :)

You always talk about
Your hopeswishesdreams
A wistful look in your eye.

But that’s all you have, isn't it?-
These hopes and wishes and dreams.
They aren’t tanglible- they float
Around the skies, taunting you
Just when it seems you have them caught,
That the world is in your hands to be molded
Into your life,
They shimmy away without a backward glance.

But it isn’t your fault, you say.
It’s them, the ideas that float away.
But I don’t see you reaching
For that ladder by your side!
I don’t see you asking-
Is it only for lack of pride-
Or too much?


Before I post this poem, while it is slightly based on some people of my past, I'm not crumbling. Promise. I got a phone call and my friend was all upset, and I got- jazzhands- inspired of whatever :P :)

You fall to pieces
Every time, over something simple
And every time,
I’m there with sense and sensibility,
Calming rationality,
Picking up the pieces
And making it all better.
The human Band-Aid you only think you need,
Stepping on eggshells everywhere she goes around you, turning her grimaces into grins.

But what will you do
When I
Fall apart someday?
It’s happening now,
I’m crumbling like the great city of Rome-
Once strong but crumbling and tumbling to ruins-
Falling apart.
Do you even see it?
If you do, do you care?

When we’re both nothing but dust,
Lying on the floor
What will you do then?

Because let me tell you-
Things will collapse,
Things will break.
Things will fall to the floor
And just…
They won’t survive.

So while you watch it all
Bear with me, thrive,
Watch as the things that fell apart
Gather themselves together
And survive.

I feel a smidge dorky, but this is fun.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Pains of Being Pure At Heart

Heylo! I wrote a poem for English today... I wrote one first that was actually NOT an epic fail called We Will Become Silhouettes- after one of my favorite songs by The Postal Service (Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gifford plus Jen from, er, another band I can't remember? Awesome!)- about music. Only to find that NOOOOO I had to write a "lemonade poem"- something showing the good and bad sides of something. My teacher gave me an outline for it. It's one of those ones that basically stifle creativity by telling you what to do on each line. BUT, I did what I could and am now presenting to you my poem! It's named after a band I found on a podcast, Indiefeed. Their song Come Saturday is great BTW.

The Pains of Being Pure At Heart: A Lemonade Poem

It was the best and worst of life- youth.

Condescension, Patronism, Saracasm, Sardoniscism, Deprecation-
All these tones that hurt you so, yet you don't know why-

Everything being new, magical, and amazing-

Laboring of a single letter of your name, rehearsing over and over, tongue poking out in concentration, bringing it to the kindergarten teacher so proudly, only to be chastised, "No tails!"-

Feeling so grown up when you accomplish something on your own-

The pains and pleasures of being pure at heart are
the best and worst of youth.

(P.S. Sorry the top thingy was longer! xD)