Just feel like writing something nice
light hair
searing translucent wonders
assaults my backround
like an invasion of the senses
forcing me to look
at something I cant have
but like an exhibit
I gaze on
with abated eyes
visiting hours are over
but I snuck in
for only a peak
maybe the guards will catch me
but I wont be outdone
for I am colorblind
and you are the sun
Monday, July 31, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Distancia
Theres an ocean
and then some land
maybe a hill
a house
and several cars
Then theres a door
most likely closed
wooden hinges
unfailing to recognize
ethereal hands
trying to open from within
Inside might be carpet
with furtniture tucked inside
a couch, a chair, a bed
details are not important
they are as blind to me
as I am to them
We walk upstairs
up several flights
immune to the cold touch
of natural oak
perhaps a couple rooms
split my destination in half
but the occupants ignore me
for I am here
and they are there
I find the room
to peer inside
matted is your hair
lying flatly on a soft mattress
fit for a queen
for for just you
and then we have a perfect smile
permenantly attached to peach skin
small ears that convey curiousity
a nose that belies dainty
and pure beauty relishing
in its own creation
all while I stare
vacantly
from above
All that could have stopped me
and all that did ignore
the only thing that succeeded
was staring at you
mi amore
when the distance fades
when sharp oak has reason to subside
when houses
with picket fences
dont fill the gap
betwen our arms
when water and soil
cant argue spiritual gain
and wood and sulfur can only refrain
when the only thing stopping us
is what lies from afar
I still think I'd pursue you
from an ever falling star
and then some land
maybe a hill
a house
and several cars
Then theres a door
most likely closed
wooden hinges
unfailing to recognize
ethereal hands
trying to open from within
Inside might be carpet
with furtniture tucked inside
a couch, a chair, a bed
details are not important
they are as blind to me
as I am to them
We walk upstairs
up several flights
immune to the cold touch
of natural oak
perhaps a couple rooms
split my destination in half
but the occupants ignore me
for I am here
and they are there
I find the room
to peer inside
matted is your hair
lying flatly on a soft mattress
fit for a queen
for for just you
and then we have a perfect smile
permenantly attached to peach skin
small ears that convey curiousity
a nose that belies dainty
and pure beauty relishing
in its own creation
all while I stare
vacantly
from above
All that could have stopped me
and all that did ignore
the only thing that succeeded
was staring at you
mi amore
when the distance fades
when sharp oak has reason to subside
when houses
with picket fences
dont fill the gap
betwen our arms
when water and soil
cant argue spiritual gain
and wood and sulfur can only refrain
when the only thing stopping us
is what lies from afar
I still think I'd pursue you
from an ever falling star
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
On another note
As if my blog wasnt bi-polar enough
I just watched a google video of a dog riding a skatboard, and I was terribly amused. Then I saw paris hilton attempting to make music, and I was also amused. I think watching one video every night is enough to be entertained. I'll never run out of video's , and itll save me the time of searching through them one by one.
I dont know how to spell my favorite pie :(
I dont know how to ride a bike
Ive never lasted very long on a rollercoaster
I cant whistle
and I running in circles gets me dizzy for six hours abouts
theres my obvious flaws. Enjoy.
I just watched a google video of a dog riding a skatboard, and I was terribly amused. Then I saw paris hilton attempting to make music, and I was also amused. I think watching one video every night is enough to be entertained. I'll never run out of video's , and itll save me the time of searching through them one by one.
I dont know how to spell my favorite pie :(
I dont know how to ride a bike
Ive never lasted very long on a rollercoaster
I cant whistle
and I running in circles gets me dizzy for six hours abouts
theres my obvious flaws. Enjoy.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Walk
I think theres a difference between your first crush and your first real crush. Maybe it was just for me. I think no one actually pursues the first girl they think is 'neato', maybe its supposed to be that way.
My first crush was in third grade. I think it was then I realized how beautiful a girl's face could be. Earlier in life you see them as just really fragile people you cant play with as rough as your guy friends, but you pretty much have no desire to be near them anyway. I couldnt tell you why I liked her, not now anyway. I think it was purely for physical purposes, as physical as you can be when your 10. She had a few freckles on the back of her neck, I used to trace them with my eyes all the time. I thought it made her different, and I liked it. I remember in fifth grade she told me she liked me, and I made the age old mistake of telling a couple kids on the bus, the next day they told everyone and that brief 24 hour 'relationship' was over. I was about four inches shorter than her too so I think that might have had something to do with it. But I'll always remember tracing those freckles. I wonder if she remembers anything about me.
My first real crush was in sixth grade. It was ongoing, really. One of those things that gain momentum with time until their so large you dont know what to do but imagine all the possibilities, until you realize the window for all of them has passed. I always think about this girl as my lesson in life I never quite learned; to be more open and not to hesitate speaking your mind. She had short dark hair, down to her neck, that always seemed to be straight no matter the time of day. Large eyes that beamed with life, even when she was obviously tired they still sparkled. Dont worry, I didnt go out of my way to stare at this girl, but in three of my classes she sat directly across from me. Maybe thats when the crush started, maybe not. She had the softest voice and always came across as very smart. I bet whatever she's doing right now, she's doing well. I'm not going to go into detail on how this ended, but lets just say I had a very clear opportunity and literally watched it sail on by. And im not talking about 'there was this second when our eyes met and I knew I could have said something" no, this was laid very clear out in front of me, was asked to be had, and I ignored it. Maybe god hit the pause button on his Ti-Vo and went to go find some beer, only never to press resume. All I know is for the rest of middle and high school I could not speak a single word to her. I think it was out of embaressment, or maybe because I was socially inept at the time. I dont know. I always had something to say. Some days she looked ravishing, others she looked like she could use a friend, some she was sad, others just showed how smart she was. I think that for the longest time she really was the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on. People just say that sometimes when they are trying to exxagerate someone or something, but im dead serious. Ive always been a face guy. To be fair I'm also a fan of asses, but I didnt notice them for quite a few years after my fondness for eyes developed. I wish there was some way for me to explain it, but no english degree, none of my poems combined, and nothing I could ever say would ever match the way she deserves to be described. Maybe its just me, and maybe to other people she's just another girl, but then again she's my first real crush, and no one elses.
I'm talking about this because ive never shared it before, and because I didnt see the point. But I think everyone should sit there and think about the first time you really looked at a person and saw nothing but good in them. It rarely happens. Usually in high school you start to get dicked over, or feel like you are, and your perception of people and situations changes. You realize with the good comes the bad, and no ones perfect, but their flaws make them beautiful. I agree, but theres always the one. Maybe when we're that young no one is flawed, or maybe I just didnt care. But in my eyes, she'll always be the Hope Diamond. Perfect in every way, but stored under lock and key in some foreign country where you cant speak the language let alone be able to find it. And if you do, theres about a thousand other people trying to get to its flawlessnes. Some wanting to put a dent in perfection, others to hold onto it because they have nothing better do to with their lives, and then theres those that view it from afar. I think I fall into the latter, because I dont know if I'd even know what to do with an opportunity again. She's both my kryptonite and my salvation. I think its this situation that made me be a romantic, because I never wanted to go a moment without being able to express my feelings. I had a wall blocking my emotions, and then I opened the floodgates, fully open to everything until recently. I've learned better, at least from everyone else.
I'm still very young, and theres a lot of life left to live. I'm probably going to write some poem tonight, and then another next week, and then several more over the course of this year about the beauty I see all around, either in someone or something, or a future relationship. I'll grow older, and everything that happened when I was 12 and 13 will seem like some fading memory that will eventually disappear. It's an inevitable that one day a bigger diamond will be found that replaces the Hope Diamond, and some museum will bury it in the basement, to collect dust and be forgotten. But the thing is that no matter how big the gems get, or even if you own thousands, you will always cherish the one out of reach. You never got to have it, and you never will. Maybe for the best. Upon further inspection, if even from under a microscope, they're always flaws present in something. Spend enough time and you can always find errors in even the most fool proof of inventions. But, somehow you know that isnt the case. You cant prove it, but you have an inkling in the pit of your stomache to the tips of your toes that this one fascination is truly unique. You might even have to put on special rose colored glasses made just for you to be aware of it. But its true. To be known only in greek tragedies and heartbroken laments, and to be told to no one. I remember in twelfth grade one day she asked me the time in the hallway and I stuttered for ten seconds before she walked inside the room. I think that was the last time I had an audible conversation with her that lasted any duration.
I knew what time it was. I'd like to tell her, it was eleven fifteen, she's beautiful, and they were serving chicken patties with french fries. That kind of information is useful, you know. Us wallflowers know it by heart. and us hearts love a tragedy, no matter how close to home it is.
My first crush was in third grade. I think it was then I realized how beautiful a girl's face could be. Earlier in life you see them as just really fragile people you cant play with as rough as your guy friends, but you pretty much have no desire to be near them anyway. I couldnt tell you why I liked her, not now anyway. I think it was purely for physical purposes, as physical as you can be when your 10. She had a few freckles on the back of her neck, I used to trace them with my eyes all the time. I thought it made her different, and I liked it. I remember in fifth grade she told me she liked me, and I made the age old mistake of telling a couple kids on the bus, the next day they told everyone and that brief 24 hour 'relationship' was over. I was about four inches shorter than her too so I think that might have had something to do with it. But I'll always remember tracing those freckles. I wonder if she remembers anything about me.
My first real crush was in sixth grade. It was ongoing, really. One of those things that gain momentum with time until their so large you dont know what to do but imagine all the possibilities, until you realize the window for all of them has passed. I always think about this girl as my lesson in life I never quite learned; to be more open and not to hesitate speaking your mind. She had short dark hair, down to her neck, that always seemed to be straight no matter the time of day. Large eyes that beamed with life, even when she was obviously tired they still sparkled. Dont worry, I didnt go out of my way to stare at this girl, but in three of my classes she sat directly across from me. Maybe thats when the crush started, maybe not. She had the softest voice and always came across as very smart. I bet whatever she's doing right now, she's doing well. I'm not going to go into detail on how this ended, but lets just say I had a very clear opportunity and literally watched it sail on by. And im not talking about 'there was this second when our eyes met and I knew I could have said something" no, this was laid very clear out in front of me, was asked to be had, and I ignored it. Maybe god hit the pause button on his Ti-Vo and went to go find some beer, only never to press resume. All I know is for the rest of middle and high school I could not speak a single word to her. I think it was out of embaressment, or maybe because I was socially inept at the time. I dont know. I always had something to say. Some days she looked ravishing, others she looked like she could use a friend, some she was sad, others just showed how smart she was. I think that for the longest time she really was the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on. People just say that sometimes when they are trying to exxagerate someone or something, but im dead serious. Ive always been a face guy. To be fair I'm also a fan of asses, but I didnt notice them for quite a few years after my fondness for eyes developed. I wish there was some way for me to explain it, but no english degree, none of my poems combined, and nothing I could ever say would ever match the way she deserves to be described. Maybe its just me, and maybe to other people she's just another girl, but then again she's my first real crush, and no one elses.
I'm talking about this because ive never shared it before, and because I didnt see the point. But I think everyone should sit there and think about the first time you really looked at a person and saw nothing but good in them. It rarely happens. Usually in high school you start to get dicked over, or feel like you are, and your perception of people and situations changes. You realize with the good comes the bad, and no ones perfect, but their flaws make them beautiful. I agree, but theres always the one. Maybe when we're that young no one is flawed, or maybe I just didnt care. But in my eyes, she'll always be the Hope Diamond. Perfect in every way, but stored under lock and key in some foreign country where you cant speak the language let alone be able to find it. And if you do, theres about a thousand other people trying to get to its flawlessnes. Some wanting to put a dent in perfection, others to hold onto it because they have nothing better do to with their lives, and then theres those that view it from afar. I think I fall into the latter, because I dont know if I'd even know what to do with an opportunity again. She's both my kryptonite and my salvation. I think its this situation that made me be a romantic, because I never wanted to go a moment without being able to express my feelings. I had a wall blocking my emotions, and then I opened the floodgates, fully open to everything until recently. I've learned better, at least from everyone else.
I'm still very young, and theres a lot of life left to live. I'm probably going to write some poem tonight, and then another next week, and then several more over the course of this year about the beauty I see all around, either in someone or something, or a future relationship. I'll grow older, and everything that happened when I was 12 and 13 will seem like some fading memory that will eventually disappear. It's an inevitable that one day a bigger diamond will be found that replaces the Hope Diamond, and some museum will bury it in the basement, to collect dust and be forgotten. But the thing is that no matter how big the gems get, or even if you own thousands, you will always cherish the one out of reach. You never got to have it, and you never will. Maybe for the best. Upon further inspection, if even from under a microscope, they're always flaws present in something. Spend enough time and you can always find errors in even the most fool proof of inventions. But, somehow you know that isnt the case. You cant prove it, but you have an inkling in the pit of your stomache to the tips of your toes that this one fascination is truly unique. You might even have to put on special rose colored glasses made just for you to be aware of it. But its true. To be known only in greek tragedies and heartbroken laments, and to be told to no one. I remember in twelfth grade one day she asked me the time in the hallway and I stuttered for ten seconds before she walked inside the room. I think that was the last time I had an audible conversation with her that lasted any duration.
I knew what time it was. I'd like to tell her, it was eleven fifteen, she's beautiful, and they were serving chicken patties with french fries. That kind of information is useful, you know. Us wallflowers know it by heart. and us hearts love a tragedy, no matter how close to home it is.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Moonlight Sonata
I write about your eyes
everything else
is just a lovely daydream
and with the sand so soft
and the moon so bright
oh wont you join me
for one dance tonight
cup my hand
and give a gentle squeeze
your arms around my neck
sending soft shivers
everywhere with feeling
six minutes and six seconds
an eternity to sway so slow
chello's and violins dictate our pace
and our feet move patiently
while my heart begins to race
and with the sand so soft
and the moon so bright
im so glad your joining me
for this one dance tonight
our heads collide
locked in lips
and forgoing lust
I gently kiss you
like silk to skin
legs still moving
and those arms around my neck
massaging into pure bliss
the gentle pause
between a giggling smile
while time is null
and my knee's stumble
as your face
beautiful
like crystal's to sweet lace
stares back so peaceful
like your in your favorite place
and our lips lock again
for maybe the last time
I tell myself once again
that you were once mine
moving again
chords slow to a crawl
I hear flutes play their last notes
and trumpets gently fade
When the music ends
I know you'll be gone
like our imprint in the sand
or the way you heard that song
yet in my inner thoughts
underneath the most secluded tree
lies just one memory
of just you
and just me
so if you catch me gazing
with gem encrusted eyes
you know what im seeing
an encore without goodbyes
because with the sand that soft
and the moon that bright
I'll always remember you joined me
for that one dance tonight
everything else
is just a lovely daydream
and with the sand so soft
and the moon so bright
oh wont you join me
for one dance tonight
cup my hand
and give a gentle squeeze
your arms around my neck
sending soft shivers
everywhere with feeling
six minutes and six seconds
an eternity to sway so slow
chello's and violins dictate our pace
and our feet move patiently
while my heart begins to race
and with the sand so soft
and the moon so bright
im so glad your joining me
for this one dance tonight
our heads collide
locked in lips
and forgoing lust
I gently kiss you
like silk to skin
legs still moving
and those arms around my neck
massaging into pure bliss
the gentle pause
between a giggling smile
while time is null
and my knee's stumble
as your face
beautiful
like crystal's to sweet lace
stares back so peaceful
like your in your favorite place
and our lips lock again
for maybe the last time
I tell myself once again
that you were once mine
moving again
chords slow to a crawl
I hear flutes play their last notes
and trumpets gently fade
When the music ends
I know you'll be gone
like our imprint in the sand
or the way you heard that song
yet in my inner thoughts
underneath the most secluded tree
lies just one memory
of just you
and just me
so if you catch me gazing
with gem encrusted eyes
you know what im seeing
an encore without goodbyes
because with the sand that soft
and the moon that bright
I'll always remember you joined me
for that one dance tonight
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