Draw a difference on a dashed line.

Voice Post

Thu, 02 Aug 2007 05:20:15 GMT

I Like how that transcribed message makes me seem retarded.

Happy 18th, Lizzie!

Mon, 28 May 2007 06:59:37 GMT

That last entry - super angsty. Woo.

Summers here. Perhaps I'll pick up the writing chops once again.

As for now, it's 2 am, and I'm tired. I'll get there eventually.

This has three parts, so please bear with me - this one took me a few hours.

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 05:50:00 GMT

Streetlamps in the Snowlights (Somebody Will Listen To Me)

I'd like to tell you that it doesn't snow as much as it used to,
Or question what really is the difference between a drift versus a bank,
But I don't have the right strengths to get past a grave apart.

One day I'll fall asleep against the Liberty Bell and hope that I might
Wake up in the same place to a fedora, nightcaps, kind words,
Some infamous chivalry only from a time before our - my - descent.

I can hear him as the chamber whirled right about his adamant nature,
"Somebody will listen to me. Some --" pitching forward to the floor.
Not exactly the right "floor", but his own nonetheless where I'd at least listen.

They still trampled right over him - into that hanging ledge just waiting to cave,
But we - he and I - cusp on the outskirts of a frozen pond in a frozen country
Fondly gazing towards the heavens caught in the soft lighting.

When I lie on the plane of existence, I can't help but think to myself
That it seems there is a tempest with a vendetta waiting for me to falter
Until I realize that there pounds a steadfast grip with my own.

Until I realize that there is nothing.
That this is my jumped claim,
My crude, stiff demeanor.

Come to me when you need to connect?
When I'm the only one who "understands"?
More adolescent fears,
And insecurities,
And colloquial jargon masking the shallow.

I must apologize for I daresay that
I long to live in an age of maturity.
"Somebody will listen to me."
I long to live in an age of eloquence.
"Somebody will listen to me."

I finally unearth the reverbs of my fortitude
Echoing across tundras and time,
In black and white, not quite yet color:

"You are not inert," he spoke softly
With one corner drawn in a subtle smirk
Filled with the admiration he couldn't say.

Hands vented on her face with vehement frustration,
"Well, then maybe I’m just too damned tumultuous,"
Said she hiding the swells threatening across her sky.

Gently, the girl's head collapsed to his broad shoulder
As though it were awaiting her defeated arrival with welcome
All the while pensively creating his next reply.

"I'll listen."

"What?" she clipped
Curtly lifting her throbbing head
Revealing her aching throat
With her painful tone
And her raw voice.

He thought back to what she endured just a few moments ago:
As the girl’s pleas resounded with unresponsive shuffles of paper
In the vast halls where she had to struggle hours on end to implore
For only the cavalier attention of one hundred emotionless souls.

They might not care,
But he did.

He brazenly brought his head level to the young woman's,
"You said, 'Somebody will listen'," he then paused for a moment
And continued with renewed confidence in her, "I will."
"I will always listen."

The girl leaned her head on to his own,
So that their foreheads lined their facial features,
Till the curves finally paralleled into a kiss.

She pulled away for to steal a slight second
From the man that gave her passion for whatever she did.
She needed to hear the answer to her age-old question,
"You know it doesn't snow as much as it used to?"

He was about to ask her why -
Of all the thoughts in her mind -
Why did she ask this?

Dismissing the inquisitive,
His allowed his soft smirk to reappear.
Under his breath, she harked to his resolution,
"Snow will forever remain evanescent
But I will always listen. Always."

All of this,
Echoes across tundras and time.
In black and white -
Not quite yet color.

One might say I was inspired from the late 16th century.

Mon, 15 Jan 2007 04:06:37 GMT

Johannes Factotum

To all those concerned or simply accommodated in the recent kindredship
Wrought from capricious misquotations of yesterday - err, yesteryear:
As the newsmonger coming forth to the unsolicited, let alone unwarranted,
Cry out - outbreak if you must - and outweigh the pedantical, the sanctimonious
For there may come a moment when you no longer have the brazen capacity
To facilitate a noiseless, seamless revolutionary ode to the great histories of history -
What some motionlessly petition to refer as the paternal present, indeed.

Tempt the reasoning of Chandos's Portrait, flee the epicurean insults,
And, while profiting out of irrationality, commit regicide to the monumental.

Only because
You never expect the stab just above your left eye in the ever so hostile fashion of friendly fire,
Or whether or not being hanged, drawn, and/or quartered still presents an option that exists.

And as the gust of gnarling, hell-borne favours caress the exposed hands of a fair-faced engagement,
The gentlefolk hint not at the hot-blooded, but more so the honey-tongued, for it is they who catch hook.
So let the humours that be lead the inaudible to inlay the foreground and both back(grounds),
With laughable lamentations of refractory mediums, which are assumed to restore the base metals
Back wherein they transmuted henceforth to untarnished and everlasting solid gold.

Reverb and resound, but no need to remember the date:
December 28, 1598. Common Era.
Cut the Theatre and Cue the Globe.

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 05:27:02 GMT

Hanoi or Illinois? Limericks in Limbo

I'm on the edge of the cusp with the Legend tailing in my sights.
Think back to the standard operating procedure:
One truly sympathizes with depth
For a military-industrialized complex is
Almost a more fatal epidemic than fathomable.
And by that time, it had become the plan B anyways.

God knows that's been fubar-ed
(F.ucked U.p B.eyond A.ll R.ecognition).
Come hell or high water,
I can promise only what I know:
They won't get to you.

Define: Diachronicity.
Events are understood the way they relate over time,
Not than on their moment by moment significance.

Take a page from the dictionary.
Then again, it's all apocryphal -
Pardon me, I meant to say relative.
Ahh, touché, my darling, my dear.

It's all relative(ly retarded).

- No offense intended.
For the sake of the future, none taken.

Plan C?
Alice-in-Wonderland Syndrome.
It is, after all, the area of my expertise.

Are you watching closely?
You wouldn't want to miss it
For
The
World.

It's the only price to pay at that point.

So suck it up or fuck it up.
Only because there’s nothing past your ABC’s.
Next time won’t you sing with me?

I doubt.
The sundial seems to have thrown in the towel already.
All we have to do now is hit the showers.
We are on our last legs, though.
Just don’t trip;
Autumn’s already gone

Poorly written. Definitely.

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 02:21:40 GMT

Send me off packing with jetset on the preconceived notion
That, in case of emergency, I can trust you'll save my life.

Lest,
We're floating lighter than lead,
Where it might not exactly be the most helpful idea out there.

Lest,
The wayward wondering happens.
True, serendipity might not always have been pure accident.

Lest,
We're just hand picked from a grab-bag
And like everyone else, thunder that can't escape.

Lest,
Open letters of androgyny
Wind up closed off at first word - "Dear ________,"

Lest,
The swollen stone overtakes the empty pond;
Pick pocketing is the only way to survive these days.

Solemn "tip of the hat" to you.

Lest -
Lest:
Lest...

Last.

Lost.

Finally

Tue, 28 Nov 2006 03:11:32 GMT

About now, I am a light in a strand strewn about this dyslexic town
Clad only with a deposition in the back of my mind just waiting to be on
With enough glare and clout to overtake the drab, the desolate, the city.

You say tradition; I say hell no.
I am not an Ian Fleming novel.
I can not fold one thousand.
I can't do an ad plug here.
The world premiere was out.
You weren't there.
What else is there to say?

South suburban blues masqued by harlequin dolls clad in gold and black.
They all say, "Live and Let Die."
But what's so wrong with living?

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 02:45:00 GMT

Wait - What?

Wanted visits, waited visits straight to the gates of well, hell
Quiet visits in middles of nights to nowheres in particular
Or simply somewheres with specific intents in mind
Just watch the merge, we wouldn’t want you to crash too hard.

I expect advice, I in fact actually respect much advice,
But there's still only one person I trust 100 percent,
And that's the person I know the best in this world:
I think it's obvious by now: not you - but myself.

Let's go over the fundamentals again of living alone:
No phone calls, no talks, no drive homes, no walks
Just the meaningless hello and the awkward air that follows.
I still have other people I can get the rest from -
I've got bases loaded on the final stretch.

Wonder what I look like when I see with eyes wide closed
Because like he's said before, you're the man when I'm not around
Second chances are only a one-time opportunity kind of thing
Once you avoid the obvious sirens in the background.

Let us have a quest, why shouldn’t we just “mission” onward
Look what we’ve got here: spotlight’s on you, buddy
I didn’t see anything or anyone, but I’m damn near positive
That if you gave me minute, it would be just right there.

Let's go over the fundamentals again of living alone:
No phone calls, no talks, no drive homes, no walks
Just the meaningless hello and the awkward air that follows.
I still have other people I can get the rest from -
I've got bases loaded on the final stretch.

Seal the deal and seal your fate
Dramatic entrance two minutes too late
From the makers that brought you dream-broken sighs
Come next week, they're last week's tries.

Let's go over the fundamentals again of living alone:
No phone calls, no talks, no drive homes, no walks
Just the meaningless hello and the awkward air that follows.
I still have other people I can get the rest from -
I've got bases loaded on the final stretch.

If it was written after August 14th, It sucks. Go take a looksee of when I used to write well.

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 03:59:46 GMT

The Distance from Point A To Point Me

No more overanalyzing the frost on a blade of grass
That the carrying capacity of this world will somehow
Simply vanish or digress or explode or drop

I've decided I either have a lack of morals or lack of integrity.
It just depends on what time you catch me at:
Between 12 a.m. to 12 p.m. or 12 p.m. to 12a.m.

50 K a year may be nothing more
Than long-distance phone calls and quiet night,
But It just might be my own away from home.
I've got apps. to fill "I's" to dot
Either way, there's only one thing I'm sure:
And it's not that cemeteries hold my answers,
It's that I know the northern hemisphere better than myself.

I've been too scared to drive Willow Springs Road
At night oncoming cars leave nothing but faded flashes in my eyes
Seeing through corners of eyes for far too wild.

Excited: Ridiculous, Amazing: Ridiculous, Angry: Ridiculous
I'm a one word show with periodic lapses of grammatical quos
Remind me that 4 days notice isn't enough for a letter.

50 K a year may be nothing more
Than long-distance phone calls and quiet night,
But It just might be my own away from home.
I've got apps. to fill "I's" to dot
Either way, there's only one thing I'm sure:
And it's not that cemeteries hold my answers,
It's that I know the northern hemisphere better than myself.

Masquerades end once the week ends
Hiding in broken down alarm clocks
In a closest somewhere located
Just on the outskirts of Hell and LaGrange.

50 K a year may be nothing more
Than long-distance phone calls and quiet night,
But It just might be my own away from home.
I've got apps. to fill "I's" to dot
Either way, there's only one thing I'm sure:
And it's not that cemeteries hold my answers,
It's that I know the northern hemisphere better than myself.

Leave me wondering: define or defy.
It's your call, and by your, I mean mine.

Sun, 22 Oct 2006 04:47:24 GMT

Send in the replacements, every "I" for a "U"
Light switches flicked in the early hours of day
Just knowing somehow that I ended up in shame
When I don't know even know when it happened.

So just tell me you don't want me to talk to you anymore
At least for me, cause I don't want more snarkiness
And its over something I didn’t think through
Over something I had thought through
Over something you didn't understand
Over something you fucking took the wrong way.

I hadn't been one for lists - they're far too practical,
But just for once I gave them a whirl, so
After 2 pages, I finally gave in: I don't want this.

It doesn't matter if it lasted 2 years, no
Because that not the point,
That's never the point.

Ungrateful living.

She was good to you, hell she wasn't good at all,
But she was still good to you, so that's saying something.
I love thee -- let me count the ways in which
I can embarrass you in public because my voice,
Well, it goes from zero to seventy in three seconds.

Bitterness suits you. It fits.
My life sucks. Let's tell everyone so I can get their sympathy.
Maybe if I do, people will pretend to care, right?

But if this whole thing is gonna be as one sided as you,
Fine, go off to your in-jokes and away messages.
We're oh so proud you've moved on without a second glance.
It's not as easy for me, but hell you've got it down to (uncon)science,
Why can't I?

Masquerades end once the week ends
Hiding in broken down alarm clocks
In a closest somewhere located
Just on the outskirts of Hell and LaGrange.

Going Through the (E)motions

Sat, 14 Oct 2006 03:31:21 GMT

Life's slowly getting there.

There being better.

Slowly but surely.

Man, I have got to start writing. I'm far too rusty.

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 04:03:14 GMT

Dying moss on a windborne tree:
As an empty field till the next wind comes
To realizing autumn was only hiding
Behind sunny days and sweatshirts.

I plan my time two weeks in advance,
Schedule written out onto my bare hand
Today is simply far too busy,
You'll eventually see me give or take a couple months.

Mellowdrama and moonlighting,
Scary thoughts while skydiving,
Overthinking to overtaking,
Loyalty giving or justified breaking?
It's all you're good for anymore.
Did you know that you were
The one who had started this all?
I can't let it lie and I can't let it lay
Because grammar has to apply sometimes.
It make more sense than what you do.

I tried to define - it doesn't work out too well.
Manage a series of mumbled somethings
Till I've stumbled my second comings
Maybe I'll stick to defying this time instead.

Mellowdrama and moonlighting,
Scary thoughts while skydiving,
Overthinking to overtaking,
Loyalty giving or justified breaking?
It's all you're good for anymore.
Did you know that you were
The one who had started this all?
I can't let it lie and I can't let it lay
Because grammar has to apply sometimes.
It make more sense than what you do.

"I've got to figure this all out
At least just for once"
Well, you're on your fiftieth try
So well and oh well because: Congrats! You can lie!

Well, at least I've got something right
Cause I used it as a homonym this time.

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 02:21:44 GMT

Ups and downs
Ins and outs
Lists of prepositional opposites.

I've never been a fan of juxtoposition.

Are you or someone you know having trouble with life as of late? Well, then you're a perfect customer for our new product called "Real Life". So shut the hell up and suck it up and get over yourself. You need help, and it is obvious that you require this product. We take checks, money orders, or credit. Apologies are also an accepted form of payment.

Wed, 20 Sep 2006 01:19:25 GMT

It pains me to work my ass off only to fail.
To fall on my face when I can't even crawl.
When I can't get their lives together.
When I can't even get my life together.
When all I look forward to every day is just getting out alive.

Smile on me.
Dop me a line.
High-fives all around.
Give me some time.

College writing sample in the work: "What inspires you?"

Sun, 10 Sep 2006 08:19:33 GMT

I am not:
Clever, witty, or shrewd.
What I am:
Optimistic, colloquial, even, lest I say it, lyrical
Despite this facade of normality,
This commonplace exterior,
Even those who have known me for a lifetime
Have nothing more than stupor after I quietly mutter:
“Well, yeah, I write poetry.
I’m no Wordsworth,
But I attempt at being a wordsmith”

Once, no more than 3 years ago,
Words meant nothing more than
Their definition, their denotation, their day-to-day explicit use,
But as I said, that was once.

I couldn’t find parallels or allusions
Even If I were dipped into the Bible.
I knew lyrics had a meaning,
I just didn’t know or care enough.

Then of course comes that moment,
That epiphany screaming incessantly,
“Just exactly what were you thinking, silly child?”

It all began with music:
Humming away into mindless musings of Yes,
When, somewhere between the Lewis Carroll and Lennon references,
“I’ve Seen All Good People” took on a more significant intention.

In a sort of an antithetical way,
Words from then on took on a simpler sense when they are
Wrapped or warped into symbolism,
Those highfalutin, verbose linguistics of yore.

I managed to take pleasure from an eclectic group spanning ages
That many of my own peers would sooner give
A shrug of their shoulders than a second thought:

The iambic pentameter of Shakespeare,
The mutters and stutters of Dylan (your choice for which one),
The up-and-down epitaphs of Edgar Lee Masters,
The vernacular jargons of Sandra Cisneros,
The nonsensical couplets of Carroll,
The sunny and all around rather cheerful disposition of Poe,
The unbelievable and sometimes almost unbearable use of quite possibly far too many words and meanings for one single sentence by Robert Frost,
And of course, the wistful wonderings of my very favorite, e.e. cummings.

Above all others, everyday life brings the best inspiration:
The wayward quote,
the random metaphor,
the spur of the moment laugh,
that quick comeback.

If something leaves an impression in my mind,
I have to make it mean someting -
If not for me, then for the world.

I have to write it faster than those cliches talking
Of fishes swimming or birds flying or things cold as ice.
I get it, ok?
I mean of course it’s cold; it’s ice!
If it weren’t freezing, then we’d have some problems here.

Anapestic, iambic, dactylic, trochaic, free verse -
Any meter makes me smile

Absolutely anything at all,
As long as it’s not Henry David Thoreau -

He doesn’t count.

Well, you can’t win ‘em all, I suppose.

Insanely fun to write, so please witness my rambles.

Thu, 07 Sep 2006 04:38:10 GMT

Suburban Sprawl

Smart as a whip
Another clever quip
Quid pro quo,
How low can you go?

Tip of the hat,
Just imagine that
Absotively posolutely
Sure as hellfire steadily.

Allegory,
Ambiguity,
Anapestic
Assonance.

Concentration,
Your very own captivation
Congratulations,
It's your lucky day.

Don't dig cacaphony,
Not a fan of your shame?
Fuck up, mess up
They sound just the same.

Roll down the window
Scroll up the page
Fly by night,
All to play the game.

Upside down,
Inside out,
Right side in,
Invert just for fun.

Stay the course,
Plot the point,
Turn it off
Or leave it on.

Scramble around
Belittle a crown
Lesson a saint
Confront a sin.

Off the rocker,
Off the radar
Down the block
Down Drury Lane.

This winter
Brand new
Never expect
Conclusions I drew.

Girlish giggle,
Childish laugh,
Eat your heart out kids
It won’t come back.

Set the clocks
So you don’t catch the time
5 minutes ahead
A quarter behind.

Tie it wrong?
It’s not a knot
Flop to the bottom
To get straight to the top.

Reading required books
All the classics, of course
As a literary device
Tells future as it looks

I’m a war dog,
A true born hellcat
Fly me to the moon
I’ll find my way back.

Cross the line
Trip a wire
A misstep
A misfire.

Through the scope
Under lock and key
To see it all,
It defies you and me.

Black hole, middle of nowhere
Would it allow to be destroyed?
A cloud of raining haze
Another figure just a void.

Stare at myself
Just off to the left
Picture perfect
Oh boys, you've got deft.

Full of mirth,
Full of guilt,
Full of smiles
Full of shit.

Look past the front
Beyond the deck
Above the bottom,

I told you already,

Just off to the left.

My brother asked me to write him something. So I did because I've had such a block lately.

Fri, 01 Sep 2006 04:43:27 GMT

Just What Exactly Was Your Father Thinking?

Slough off the day
It's gonna float far away
You'd never second guess that it went down like this.

Turn down the scene
Fears were unforseen
Tossed into the pond like a never skipping stone.

Floating down a shallow creek
Orr was smart enough to not face defeat
Major Major Major Major
Oh, just what exactly was your father thinking?

I need to learn ambition somehow
That everything's not filled with sorrow
That poetry's just another way to say
It's not perfect, but hell, at least it's okay.

I couldn’t lie
Just when I said
I need 5 alarm clocks running through my head.

Jump the crack
And skip a note
Stare at my heels because I can't learn by rote.

Floating down a shallow creek
Orr was I smart enough to not face defeat
Major Major Major Major
Oh, just what exactly was your father thinking?

I need to learn ambition somehow
That everything's not filled with sorrow
That poetry's just another way to say
It's not perfect, but hell, at least it's okay.

You came at a cost so I called you my pearl.
I've got you branded into the middle of my head.

I need to learn ambition somehow
That everything's not filled with sorrow
That poetry's just another way to say
It's not perfect, but hell, at least it's okay.

Floating down a shallow creek
Orr was I smart enough to not face defeat
Major Major Major Major
Oh, just what exactly was your father thinking?

Mon, 14 Aug 2006 08:30:14 GMT

Malign and Benign Almost Perfectly Rhyme

I'm just self-conscious in my subconscious
With two tiny prefixes holding back what I should be.
Tonight you're my very full moon, true smile and all.
Too bad I wanted to see the meteor shower.

It comes once a year, yet I have you for twelve.
I'd let you slip by, but it's the same for the last years.
So now I’m putting you on a new warning:
I swear to you now, this is your 3rd second chance.

This right here, this is awkward
This right here, this is inconsequential.
Oh Chicago, I long to see you
Just not too soon I hope
For I can't seem to leave what I have here alone.

I made a list of who I think I am
I had hopes and fears, what I love and what I hate.
There was a section I called "what I couldn't live without"
There was one entry there
And that was you.

She said that it was just a tiny bit packed,
But it's still packed none the less and the more
Goes as far back as 3 years and see the change
Go back 10, well that's what the world calls reincarnation.

I wonder if he was stoned, then it would all make sense
Because I don't know if he could have done it all sober.
For as much respect as I have for warping words
There's a point where drawing a line isn't the answer.

This right here, this is awkward
This right here, this is inconsequential.
Oh Chicago, I long to see you
Just not too soon I hope
For I can't seem to leave what I have here alone.

I made a list of who I think I am
I had hopes and fears, what I love and what I hate.
There was a section I called "what I couldn't live without"
There was one entry there
And that was you.

So there was a story of two alone in stopped time
Thinking together that they would finally catch sight
Of ideas that were hidden between a crooked line
But it wound up to be a just a steep hill to climb
But a decline to wind
Still all in that very same stopped time.
You were my life-line.

It's kinda cute, kinda dorky, and you know what? It's even just a little bit fun.

Thu, 10 Aug 2006 05:35:45 GMT

So someone asked me to write them a song. They only play acoustic so I had to simplify things down a little more. It's definitely different than my usual style, but I gotta change things up once in a while. I can't stay forever in my darker, more symbolic world. So, to switch it up, I, Stephanie, now present to you... a happy song? Whoa, girlie. WTF!? Inspirations you ask? Why the writing styles of both Donovan Frankenreiter and Anthony Keidis if you so care.

If It Weren’t for You

I’m a cloud watcher, not a star gazer
I view the city as the sky light takes her.

I’m a day dreamer, not a soul stealer
No better than that man on Baker Street.

You’ve got your buzzing ears and a sheepish grin
It looks to me like you’ll think you’ll win
But that was all before I caught you like that
I was hoping that you’d be better now that I’m back.

I gave you the year leaving me to wait
But you stopped trying fifteen minutes in
At that point in time, it didn’t come down to fate.
Your cue was lost and you we’re just seconds late.
I’d just about given up on you, too
And I would have done so if it weren’t for you.

I’m a shape-shifter, not the heroic winner
I’ve got some confidence when I’m not a sinner

I’m a side-winder, a real highbrowed fancier
Wait a second now cause I’ll restart later.

You’ve got your buzzing ears and a sheepish grin
It looks to me like you’ll think you’ll win
But that was all before I caught you like that
I was hoping that you’d be better now that I’m back.

I gave you the year leaving me to wait
But you stopped trying fifteen minutes in.
At that point in time, it didn’t come down to fate.
Your cue was lost and you we’re just seconds late.
I’d just about given up on you, too
And I would have done so if it weren’t for you.

Could you have only been a little less obvious
Kept it down and low, just a little hushed.
We’re gonna have to deal with a blaring loss
Keep your hands inside, they’re gonna get too rough.

I gave you the year leaving me to wait
But you stopped trying fifteen minutes in.
At that point in time, it didn’t come down to fate.
Your cue was lost and you we’re just seconds late.
I’d just about given up on you, too
And I would have done so if it weren’t for you.
If it weren’t for you, mhmm.

Voice Post

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 06:05:55 GMT

Happy Birthday, askheyliz.

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 05:55:13 GMT

Simple and Sweet

He said you’re either a taker or a giver:
You’re going to go out and kill people
Or you’re gonna help save the world..
Right now you’re rocking the Rockefeller taste buds
But you don’t have the Rockefeller work ethic
So really, I’m just waiting to see if you’ll be the one
To sink or swim.

They thought your attitude right now
It’s taking you to nothing moe than stocking
Better known as biting nails.
Right now you have the golden smile
But you don’t think you have the time
It’s the world that is going to see what you do
If you fail.

It’s those personal attacks
The ones that seemed so lax
They seemed like they were mine
But we drew a difference on a dashed line
I tape it to your steering wheel
Just so you can see
Torn of a withered notebook is:
“I am smarter than you think.”

I knew you wouldn’t have believed me
Even if I had said: dire escapes and achromatic gates
All in a ten minute span of my time.
You keep telling me your future
As though it’s going surefire down in history
Well you’re right about one thing and it’s the truth:
Something will be on fire.

It’s those personal attacks
The ones that seemed so lax
They seemed like they were mine
But we drew a difference on a dashed line
I tape it to your steering wheel
Just so you can see
Torn of a withered notebook is:
“I am smarter than you think.”

I am smarter than you think
And more clever than ever you’ll know
So think you have me down to a tee
Complete with utmost symmetry
See my smirk and you will see
I was never in that mold.

It’s those personal attacks
The ones that seemed so lax
They seemed like they were mine
But we drew a difference on a dashed line
I tape it to your steering wheel
Just so you can see
Torn of a withered notebook is:
“I am smarter than you think.”

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 16:09:20 GMT

Um, my schedule is fucked up because I have an English teacher I didn't want (I wanted Bartholemew), I dropped AP Euro so I don't know why I still have it, Calculus is at the end of the day qand I do NOT have Mr. Kwilose..., I have my easy classes all in the morning, I have 5th hour lunch, and I'm missing my inependant study - What the fuck. I seriously hate my schedule.

0 - Junior Leaders - Mr. Balle
1 - Varsity Choir - McWilliams (1st hour!? What was she thinking!?)
2 - Honors Anatomy + Phys - Kolinitis (This is good)
3 - English - Tarjan (Not who I wanted)
4 - AP Euro - Spencer (Umm, I dropped this in May?)
5 - Lunch (So late in the day...)
6 - Spanish - O'Connor (One of the only good classes I have...)
7 - AP Calculus AB - Jane Rachel (Apparently, she's a really horrible teacher).

Thank god it might all change. Thank god.

http://www.ratemyteachers.com

Spread the word and check out your teachers.

I love love love this piece - Really personal. Definitely some of my stronger writing.

Tue, 25 Jul 2006 07:24:19 GMT

Acoustic Lovers

I don’t mean to put you down as much as I do -
If I went to a shrink, he’d just what they all say:
You have an inferiority complex, now deal.
It’s more like everyone else has to do the dealing
And that’s only with me.

My apologies seem more like excuses lately.
From day one I didn’t feel comfortable with it,
So I blame the boat for the burden that it sank.
Well, you were the one with the commands
And you blew it.

The jingle and the follow are quickly coming on their way
With opening doors and closing windows and less sighs to fill the day.
Climbing over windswept trees and ancient garden fences,
Realizing that closing our eyes remain the more practical senses.
One day I want to be daring enough to something rash or courageous
And I can feel that moment like my heartbeat when I close my eyes.

You don’t have to brood, I find your quirks comforting
Just like how I purse my smile to one side of my face
When I’m trying not to laugh at what’s not really funny
Or how the world assumes we’re simply crazy -
Crazy for one another.

The knots in the wood seem to have darkened eyes
That leave me unsure as to whether or not they’re trying to
Make me nervous or comfort me in a low- lit room
While I try to lay in a completely different dimension
A world apart.

The jingle and the follow are quickly coming on their way
With opening doors and closing windows and less sighs to fill the day.
Climbing over windswept trees and ancient garden fences,
Realizing that closing our eyes remain the more practical senses.
One day I want to be daring enough to something rash or courageous
And I can feel that moment like my heartbeat when I close my eyes.

I have the ability to constantly restate the obvious
And you can’t pace your quick words before they get ahead of you.
We don’t need to focus on what we aren’t,
But love eachother for what we are: Acoustic love.

The jingle and the follow are quickly coming on their way
With opening doors and closing windows and less sighs to fill the day.
Climbing over windswept trees and ancient garden fences,
Realizing that closing our eyes remain the more practical senses.
One day I want to be daring enough to something rash or courageous
And I can feel that moment like my heartbeat when I close my eyes.

I have the ability to constantly restate the obvious
And you can’t pace your quick words before they get ahead of you.
We don’t need to focus on what we aren’t,
But love eachother for what we are: Acoustic love.

My brother's boat sunk in Canada on a fishing trip and it became inspiration

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 07:31:59 GMT

I Tell Myself “What Is” But Can’t Help Writing “What If”

It seems to me that Junebugs finally come out on the first of July
Just like cattails remind me that there’s usually a pond nearby.
The quarry doesn’t feel as far as it once did when I was a preteen
And neither does the distance it takes to get to your house.

For about three years, I’ve never wanted anything more
Than a fedora, a vacation, and a brand new expectation
I have one out of the three, but just like my walls,
I’m afraid to pin up anything that I’d actually anticipate.

Red Arrow goodbyes end at the railroad
Because the stoplight won’t change until six o’clock.
Chickaming so-longs aren’t like dirty dancing
We don’t sing a chorus, but just say hello.

She came crashing through the door, sending my eyes open
To hear that none other than their boat had sunk, but it was all good
Because a freak Canadian tempest took ‘em down and then some.
So what if a stranger bought them shoes and they became a charity case.

My room is hall - people walk right in paying no attention to me
Think that I’m really much younger than they all even suspect.
You don’t virgin ear a legal adult, but if you knew who I was
And not assume you’d figure out I’m probably more mature than you.

Red Arrow goodbyes end at the railroad
Because the stoplight won’t change until six o’clock.
Chickaming so-longs aren’t like dirty dancing
We don’t sing a chorus, but just say hello.

After some odd hours, you keep going along with me,
But I keep explaining I have no more ideas.
Hand in hand, we motor out to a backwater street
That the locals better know as a highway
To rolled up windows and closed up minds.

Sand falls whenever I shake my head -
I hear it crackle on the wooden floor;
Glasses break when I can see you -
I didn’t know you would make it after all.

Oh boy this is a long one

Sat, 15 Jul 2006 07:19:24 GMT

Define: Hyborbole

I get the feeling that this juncture is a little bit iffy
At the threshold of the edge at the limit of the merge.
I’d like to give you credit for the quotes of the day
But as you’ve said before, we chose who we are.

I’m piling up the dressers and drawers in search of
The object that would most completely satiate my nerves
And would feel just as good if it currently were not in the middle of
Digging into the roof of my mouth with the help of some barricade.

I love how curtains collapse when I open the side door,
And I love to wake up early for the sunrise and prospects more.
I love the splash of water when it encompasses my smile,
And I love the fleeting moments when you say you’ll stay for awhile.

I only see you for one three hundred and fifty-sixth of a year
But those are the best twenty-four hours
In the span of these twelve months
That try to keep me with you
So try to keep me with you
That way I’ll forget the numbers and have you for at least a day.

Metaphors weren’t my sort of thing and neither were allegories.
I’ve got a tiny halfway point kitty corner from me to you
That has me perceive that I’m not the only one that can drown
On the inside of his slash her self and can write about it.

No matter how pissed I ever pretend, you know it’s all a facade
Plus I’m glad that I seem somewhat clever to someone.
The spur of the moment trips aren’t pre-planned like we are
And then I know that this is more than pre-teen love.

I love how curtains collapse when I open the side door,
And I love to wake up early for the sunrise and prospects more.
I love the splash of water when it encompasses my smile,
And I love the fleeting moments when you say you’ll stay for awhile.

I only see you for one three hundred and fifty-sixth of a year
But those are the best twenty-four hours
In the span of these twelve months
That try to keep me with you
So try to keep me with you
That way I’ll forget the numbers and have you for at least a day.

Haste makes distaste makes me feel sorta replaced
After repeatedly telling myself that normality has been engaged
To not closing doors cause the carpet was simply in the way.
I’m guessing that is more than just the typical indifference.

I only see you for one three hundred and fifty-sixth of a year
But those are the best twenty-four hours
In the span of these twelve months
That try to keep me with you
So try to keep me with you
That way I’ll forget the numbers and have you for at least a day
For at least an hour
For at least a second.