Gifts of the Poetic Nature

Yesterday, I was reading some poetry aloud with my sister in the room. She tempted me with three topics: depression (huh?), Joyful, and Wildlife.





~Palm Leaves~
I prefer lush, green grass wet from sprinklers.
Maybe even high grade AstroTurf
to avoid worms
and bugs
and dirt

because I'd like to stay clean.

I don't care for the Sahara or tall stalks of
bleached yellow weeds were lions
roam and zebras prance and
hippopotamus
submerge themselves

underwater kind of like how I do
when I'm being wild
and living my life.

And wearing shades so that
the hot sun doesn't burn me.


Sweet Sweet Poetry

Mind the Gap

Long ago when I was
small, you used to call me
beautiful.
And let me eat cookie dough and
spend all your money at
chuck e. cheese's.

You know of that place?

Where kids can be kids?

That's where I was a kid.
That's where I was your kid.


And somehow we started using orange juice instead of milk for cereal.
And I laughed at the strangeness. How cool.
And then things got more strange.
And I thought it was cool that

you were thousands of miles away.

And then you were

here

and then you were

there

here

there

here

there

Where are we again?
This gap is cool.


But the distance created distance.

And I'm over here

And you're over there.

And the middle is so far.

From both of us.

I can't stretch that far.

(And you won't.)

But do you still see me?
Can you hear my voice?
Did you see me grow?
Teach me how to ride a bike?

I taught myself how to ride a bike.
People say:
You never forget how to ride a bike.
But, they also say that

fathers

don't leave

daughters.

And we both know that isn't true.


I forgot three times.
Every single time, 1, 2, 3 I taught myself.
And I was over here

And you were over there.

And it was still cool.


Not that long
ago, when I was

ye tall

I was there.

And I was worried that all that time

you were there

that I was too strange, because

I was here.

But they say: fathers love daughters.
And they are true.

I cried.

I cried.

I felt love.

I felt love.

I felt loved.

I felt loved.

And it wasn't cool anymore.

Because I will always be here.

Hammer Time (Except Replace Hammer with Meme)

1. Wacky Formatted Poetry:
Although, my thoughts are all over the place, generally speaking, I write linearly.  I don't want my thoughts to be boxed in so, I do crazy things with placement/spacing/etc. I like to change the format to throw off the cadence. I like to give people more time to digest what I'm writing. Most of all, I like to entertain and engage the eye. Everything is more surprising when you have to chase it down.

2. New Friends:
Sheesh, very broad prompt. New friends online or in RL? I'll touch on both.  In RL, I'm despicably shy so it takes me a long time even to say "hello."  It makes me sad because I am quite friendly, but my bashfulness always gets the best of me, so people think I'm conceited and/or a bitch. But, I always try to cultivate friendships that will last the long haul. On the internet, I've been in the community for a very long time, but it wasn't until recently (August 2011), that I actually started talking to people. I feel like I missed out now. There is so much awesomeness online and I can't believe how varied everyone is. Everyone has lives and it's so cool that I'm intersecting with people on more than one plane.

3. Adoration:
I always say that adoration is better than love. You can love someone from a far, but you've got to be in their presence to adore them. I just looked up the word and I don't have much to add outside of the fact that the word reminds me of the Renaissance.

4. The Colour Blue:
That's odd! I prefer the color red. However, I do like writing about colors as I find them impossibly evocative and blue is quite popular. It makes me think of Picasso and sadness. The color blue is best served via denim.  I have blue floral curtains and a hulk blanket outlined in blue.

Carla

Some facts first:

1. During the summer I taught English at a "summer camp".
2. The program's mission is to assist [students] in the successful completion of high school, and post secondary education.
3. It was catered towards at-risk children.
4. This was my first foray into teaching.

~

One the first day, I was more than likely late and I wore hot pink. I remember being incredibly nervous and fearful that the students would not like me or worse respect me. For some reason I just scream "total mega bitch" and if I don't, then it oozes through my pores. I'm very aware of this particular fact and I have yet to wield it to my (express) benefit and more importantly to the mutual success of others. In general, I find meeting people/peers to be stressful, so I'm not certain how I convinced myself that I should be in a Position of Authority, but I did.

"Good morning everyone, I'm so and so and I'm here to teach English. Does everyone know what an outline is?"

Yes everyone did, but of course I had to pull teeth to get a response. That's find. I want something, I work towards it. We covered beaucoup de rudimentary stuff: "Can you tell me what foreshadowing is?" And because I didn't write the syllabus, we did some personal development that is too cheesy and painful to mock. It was all very rocky and groggy as class started at 8:00 am. In June.

"So, who are you?" (This is me trying to relate.)

"I'm Carla."

"And you?"

"I'm George...Carla's brother."

Oh

"And you sir?" (I'm laughable.)

"I'm Cesar. Carla's and George's cousin."

Facepalm. Full House. Three against the One.

My American is coming out. OH SHIT! PUT IT AWAY

Quirks, Pet-Peeves, and Other Idiosyncrasies

In no particular order.


1. I want a gold tooth, badly.
2. I don't like it when two rooms are directly across from one another. Heaven forbid if the beds line up.
3. I find pseudo-word "luv" ridiculous.
4. Word salad.
5. I clean my room 3-7 times a week.
6. I don't like discarded hair. I feel like my biology (not kidding that's what I call it) is just out in the atmosphere.
7. I have crazy dances moves. I don't mean the good crazy either.
8. I often think about starting any walk with the left foot first.
9. My hair is out of control. Once I cut it all off. That was bad.
10. Eating chocolate chips results in an allergic reaction.
11. The word 'weird.'
12. I think better when on my feet. If I have to think about what I'm thinking. It will be thoughtless.
13. I will spend hours looking for a song.
14. I didn't have a long term cellphone until 2009.
15. I just got a new student loan bill in the mail.
16. I guess I'm pretty normal.

Bad Tidings

I have news of the worst sort to share. I'll start from the less depraved and save the distressful bits for last.

5. I was reading a story misread the word leopards as leo-pards as if it rhymes with 'cards.'

4. I missed Dear Genevieve on HGTV.

3. I overate today/had a meal around midnight. I don't have an eating disorder, but I had to fight not to vomit. Being an American, it took me years to learn portion control and for a few minutes (that's saddening), I was just completely out of touch with my body. A very bottom's up feeling.

2. I doubt that I'll ever drop the last 15lbs I need to be 'thin.' It's disheartening because anymore weight loss would result in me being sickly. Geez, I'm a laze. Fuck you metabolism.

1. I got an email from the Peace Corps. I won't be shipping off until April it seems. It's getting harder and harder to hold on my dream. And I wish I could say "I would do ANYTHING to make it come true," but I've all ready nullified that statement. And that's why I'm in this current predicament and perpetually unsettled.

~~~~~~

Some good news...
I love playing Sky Burger on the iPad. I applied for an interim job. I cleaned my room. I was nice to my sister. I fought the urge to buy a Dr. Pepper!!! I had a pretty bizarre dream. I am a lucid dreamer. I've decided what I want for Christmas....BOOTS!!!! I'm alive and I think I might go to China or something.

Inebriated Commentary with the Captain

Me: My comment was eaten! Saveee mee...

It said that i could find bottles of basilmac vingear, but I edned up finding a bottle of wine.....

WHICH I DRUNK ALREADY!!!!

YEAH BOI.

*BREAKS DANCE*

~~~~~
Me: ugh, i"m replying to my own self.

Whhat I wouldn't do for a bottle of four loko.


I wanna be riding a pony right now

~~~~~
Captain: Ponies are pretty.

~~~~~
Me:It's just, I would really love one. And I might start crying, because some people don't take care of their ponies. And it's so mean. I watch lot of animal planet and I'd be a good poney owner. That's all I'm saying.

~~~~~
Captain (yayy!!!!): No, I can tell you would be!!! You deserve one and they don't!

~~~~~
Me:You're very sweet.

In a non-sexual way, you could ride my pony.

~~~~~
Captain:That is super hilarious even now that I'm sober!! Thank you!


FIN and Friends.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uk6B2kDljas&feature=results_video&playnext=1&list=PL8655803AE2DC9340
video compliments of ikee

Alcohol is *My* Muse

This endeavor was brought upon by a drunken stupor. Surprisingly, the fic features woke-up married!Dhr, countless references to cartoon characters, and a gratuitous author's note.

Title: So Near Like a Baby
Author: Me!
Rating: That's the issue. I'll slap a PG-13 on it.
Warnings: None really.
Summary:When these conmemmics coume iout it’s over. No more pmiste rn ice giy . I diont’ even care. Just say you’bee be ther like the spice gurls .. babye spaice is mattered and I don’t like it one bit. Oh=hopefully harroy pooter can siveae the dayl. I don’t know fore sure and IZ on’dlont remmeer the issube, but jueee golhy harrrp potter will repveial . <--prevail.

I have a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

Like clockwork, it seems that I always want a cupcake. Day or night, rain or shine, with milk and cookies. The dilemma over cupcakes concerns my favorite part. Well, which part is that? The icing part. So sweet and creamy and problematic. See, I have what the doctor calls "adult on-set allergies." As I was coasting through my twenty-second year of life, I developed a sensitivity to dairy.

*waves* good-bye cheese, milk, sour cream, cream cheese, salad dressings, yogurt, all the foods made with diary, but especially cupcakes.

Forty-five minutes ago, I ate a slice of cheesecake. It was so good. But diary interferes with iron absorption. And the doctors told me that I have anemia too. So, now I'm waiting for an hours time to take my iron supplement.

I wanted to go immediately to bed after eating my wickedly sinful slice of cheesecake. But I hadn't taken my vitamins yet, so Here I Am.

Sleepy, frustrated and rambling.

My hour is up!

Belligerency

I am on—an edge, rather at a crossroad.

The place that I come from is wonderful

The place where I may go to is wondrous

or perhaps wander-ous.

Like gypsies.

trapped in caravans, contained in

silk, bells about their feet. Tintinnabulation.


Everywhere they go, they bring, music

processional

music.

In a line; predictable in order: 1, 2, 3.


Until they reach my crossroad

beckoning with unrestraint

completely unrestraint.

free. wild. extravagant. feral. abandon. nomadic.

without a Home.

abandoned.

Gypsies come to where I stand.

The location of my existence

To release me from the tedium of ordinary existence.



But from where I stand, the view I see

this place that I come from is

wonderful.

My yoke is light. My days bright.

And my nights…dark of course.

sometimes starry. Other times not.

Pull a shawl around me.

Pander around my room, wishing for tea.

Pose as my personal fairy godmother.

Put on some tea.

Push through the last 1, 2, 3 pages.



Drifting from this wonderful place into



Sleep.

I’m just on edge of unconsciousness.

I’m just on the edge.

I’ve reached the crossroad. Again.

I reach it Every Day.

at times rejecting its challenge

at other times not.

Surpassing that which can be wonderful for that which is wondrous.

Being immanent and transcendent.

Embracing unknown, innovation,

tinkering like bells

Gypsies’ bells

in no given order.

Liberated. Autonomous. Bountiful.

Imaginative. Enlightened. Sound.

as in body and mind.

Stretched

in belief and thought.

Distilled

of enmity and despair.

Filled

with charity and grace.

Matured

from apathy and levity.

Committed

to acceptance and faith.

Washed and made whole.


I am at a crossroad.

I look back to the wonderful

forward to the wondrous

prudent of the wander-ous

and certain to the wonder.

A bell rings.



Round One.

Emotions

Self-Loathing:
I'll admit it: I need saving. I don't know if it's from the Lord type of saving, but more of the saving from the dark, carnivorous thoughts that gnaw on my soul, bit by precious bit only to spit it out because its too unsavory to swallow. I feel defective and I wish I could claw my skin off with nails infested with disease, yellowed from tar. Then sew it back on so my outer appearance reflects how ugly I feel inside.

Misery:
Lots of huffing and even more sighing. I stare down in my empty tankard-even my drink doesn't want to stick around. I haven't even got a shilling to my name, but I ask the bartender to pour another. He declines. I've already had too much of the stuff, but there's tons of room for more.

Ambivalence:
Shrugging. Stuck. Unmoving and hoping to God that this inertia doesn't last too long. I don't have the force--the fortitude--to act. And can't time just tick, tick, tick, faster so my choices are inconsequential? Everything is beuno, everything is tres mal. It's most definitely the worst of times.

Perseverance:
Just outside of my window I can see the sunrise; if I try a little harder I can hear the birds sings as they help the sun usher in a new day. It's just a matter getting up. Out of bed. 5 more minutes. All I can take is five more minutes.

Love:
TBC

Put Your Integrity Away

I don't know, I'm feeling....malaise. But more so on the emotional plane. And like open mouth, insert foot. Tsk tsk.

No matter,

how many times can a person watch the Beyonce video for Countdown? Even though it's appropriation border-lining on thievery. Oh well, but would it have KILLed her camp to alert the original choreographer???

No, none of that.

I go to Walmart frequently and my sister likes pringles. So two days ago I went to Walmart and I got my sister some honey mustard pringles. Well, as you can imagine, I tried one. And how did it taste?


Quote:

It tastes like chicken nugget sauce!

End Quote.

I'm like a one man act or in competition about stupidity.

Ate an egg on a burger today. It tasted like breakfast.

Ice Cream. I Scream.

I've accomplished very little today.

I'm not quite certain how it happen, but I went to bed after 5 am, got up at 7:30 am, went back to sleep at 2pm-ish. Then I thought it was Saturday and that my favorite show was on, so I woke up just in time to see it at 3:28pm, but of course, it was Sunday, so I went back to sleep at 3:30pm. Finally woke up at 7pmish to take my sister to Walmart.

Who turned 13 and got an iPad 2.

And I've been awake ever since then.

Almost got into a wreck *ultra frowny face* and spent nearly two damn hours creating that super fab icon in the top left hand corner. Clever huh? No time management too!

But I digress.

Originally I got two hours of sleep and I was NOT at my best. Every side of the bed was the wrong side when I got up. How do I mean? Well, I threw some clothes on and fell back in the bed waiting for "go time." And I was so suspicious of everyone. Literally asked each member of my family three times if they had my blue denim vest. I refused to take no for an answer/still do. But listened to some gospel music in Spanish and that made me appreciate life.


***

I'm relieved that I've nearly caught up reading. At one point, the jig was up! But I'm down by three and by golly I'm sure no cares if I read them, so I have all the time in the world. <-- Jaded much?

So I got my first "hmm" review. And while I don't want to ruminate over it, I have an obsessive personality (which is why I fic) so it can't be help.

So the review is like, "stab, stab, wound, hehe."
Then my response is, "diddle, daddle, doodle, boo who who."
But I wanted to write, "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah."
Except I'm thinking, "RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR , RAWR, RAWR, RAWR." And those angry sounds the Sims make when they haven't had enough sleep.

Cupid

I went to the doctor the other day and he told me I was 5'5". Previously, I was under a near impenetrable delusion that I was 5'7". I don't know how I managed to accumulate two additional inches. Eventually, my height will reflect my reality, but I'm just not ready to be short. Aside from that, my profile is accurate.

I feel like I should qualify my statement about disliking cats...with a story. In 2008 there was small kitten TRAPPED under a garbage dumpster. And I saw him/her and I was like "I have to save this creature!" So at 11 at night, I got down on my hands and knees/laid down on the literally trashy ground and tried to coax the little guy from out of his hiding place. So I could own it. And I almost succeed, but then he scratched me; I was nervous about rabies which lead me to abandon that call of duty. And cats.

Unfinished Short

The following short story or rather scene was inspired by a shoe box, boredom, mindless activity, and most singularly- deficiency. 

Stunted Beginnings

Barbara Kruger

Standoffish. Closed. Guarded.  I find it nearly incapable to reach out, to touch, to grasp, to hold, to cherish.  My means for companionship almost always fail me.  My rituals are superfluous rendering me supercilious.

Untouched.

Suspended in a state in unfair apathy.  Ready to flip a page.

I wish to relate.  To be affected.