random poem

we read a poem called "Song For Bird and Myself" by Jack Spice in poetry class today.. and it inspired me to write this heap of words:

CLICHE UPON CLICHE: THE POEM

love, love, love, then something about a dove
or about above or perhaps
below.. yes, below
the eyes and past the nose, to the lips.
soft and moist, like the lips below the hips, and of course,
between these 4 lips lies the heart.
the ever so famous heart. beat beat bawl. beat beat fall to weak in the knees.
cupid and hearts and love love love. like a mirror
to poor Narcissus. No, selfishness never works. Yes,
the heart, or what it the soul?
And where was the soul again? Here? There?
Where does it lie? Oh and the lies! the lies and their words! But the truth,
the truth
somehow lies in THESE words,
MY words, THE words you are reading, wondering why they don't rhyme.
Could this be mere words posing as a poem? No. No.
It couldn't be... after all, it mentions love, love, love, and
dove, and above. But the metaphors... Where are the metaphors?
Like finding out your English teacher was your father's mistress,
revealing that OHHH! of revelation! that "oh! THAT'S WHY my brother's eyes are blue!"
Metaphors, yes, metaphors explain things like why eyes are blue, or green like lust, or was it money?,
or white like virgins,
like the KKK,
like the white man devil,
or red like passion, like thirst, like blood,
or grey like the FOG that covers MY soul, HIS soul, HER soul, our souls,
or brown like the MUD that covers HER soles, HIS soles, MY soles.
Time, and life, and ohh's! and ahh's! and yes, and truth! and enlightenment! and revelations! and MEANING! and love love love! seek it all in a poem,
in words,
or maybe not.
[climatic point.] Now isn't that what life was made for?




random. but yeah. <3

killer headache.

i hate not knowing what's "best for me."

i have a picture of "what i want" in my head... but... i don't let myself strive for it because i allow myself to believe that "maybe it's not the best thing for me." ...i wish i could just go on a vacation with myself.. and somehow magically run into a handful of amazing people who could school me on some of the "facts of life".. it doesn't even have to be a "handful".. maybe just 1.. or 2.. or 3. hah.

my head hurts.

grr.

Strange Hurt

Strange Hurt

In times of stormy weather
She felt queer pain
That said,
"You'll find rain better
Than shelter from the rain."

Days filled with fiery sunshine
Strange hurt she knew
That made
Her seek the burning sunlight
Rather than the shade.

In months of snowy winter
When cozy houses hold,
She'd break down doors
To wander naked
In the cold.

_Langston Hughes

i love that last stanza... the fact that she's naked shows just how EXPOSED she is.. how NATURAL she is. She's naked. She's herself, and nothing more. Naked and vulnerable. Hurt. I don't think you can truly know a person until you've seen them at their worst.. until you've seen them down and HURT..Vulnerable. it's easy when we're HAPPY. happiness numbs us from all the bad things out there.. but when we're hurt.. we become so sensitive.. the way we deal with it shows our strengths and weaknesses.

Wandering naked in the cold is like saying...
i'm here, and i'm vulnerable. take me as i am. this is me. love me or hate me, it's up to you, but atleast i have the balls to SHOW YOU WHO I REALLY AM.

stuck.

Lately, i've been feeling STUCK.

it's like, one of those gooey sticky hand toys that you can get in a quarter machine.




you throw it towards a window or wall, and it STICKS, and it feels good.. it's like, muahaha, i made you STICK to the wall damn it! i didn't even have to put much force into it and now your STUCK... but then... it unsticks.. and comes back to you.

that's how i feel.

I'm allowing myself to be thrown and stuck from window to wall, window to wall, only to be thrown back to the place in which i started.

it's really rather depressing.

i don't know what to do about it anymore.

and so, i guess i'm left with no choice other than to LIVE. go on.. be stuck and then unstuck.. it's boring staying in one place anyway.

i think i'm in love.

with Anoop Desai!

the next American Idol thank you very much. hahah. =] i love this guy. pretty much made me melt when i saw him audition for Idol. i never really stuck to the show... till maybe THIS season. woo hoo! go Anoop! lol. check him out(as a former soloist member of UNC's Clefhangers):

angel of mine..




i'll make love to you...



the only one for me...




sorry if u hate him. i don't =] haha

first day back to school

so today... i went back to school.

Sociology seems alright; teacher seems fun and quirky. Plus i think one of my coworkers is in my class..

Anthropolpgy started off a bit AWKWARD with my ex standing outside talking to this FREAKIN GIRL (of whom i use to say i "didn't like" when we were together, and all HE had to say about it then was "i don't even see her that way Crystal" HMPH. sure looks like you "see her that way" now.) ANYWAYYY... it got super better when i went to look for a seat and saw DARREN HIROSE sitting there! lol. woo hoo. brightened my hour. lol. cept it woulda been totally better if he sat in back of me because then it would be like photo 1 deja vu status.

Intro to Poetry... seems okay. Except i MOST DEF have to change seats because i feel like i cant even BREATHE where i'm sitting now (right in the middle!) ick. i either like front row seats or "off to the side" seats (preferably against a wall.) so i hope to find a "wall seat" tomorrow =] My teacher read a random poem for us and i thought the end was cute. "Say i'm weary, say i'm sad, say that health and wealth have missed me, say i'm growing old, but add, jenny kissed me." aww, how cute. okay. enough of that.

Last but not least, EWRT 1B seems splendid. I just hope my teacher doesn't get tired of me (since i'm taking him for my poetry class too! hah)... there's a lot of reading to do... but... I CAN DO IT =]

<3

brace yourself.

"Baby, take off your cool,
i wanna see you, i wanna see you,
Baby, don't be so cool,
i wanna see you, i wanna see you,

Baby, take off your cool,
i want to get to know you."
_Benjamin, Andre

____________________________________

brace yourself

she's not
smiling because she's happy.
she's smiling because she knows
it won't last forever;
she's learned to savor moments
like these.

brace yourself

he's not
telling the truth when
he says things you already have proof
to prove otherwise;
afterall, you have to trust yourself
before you can trust others.

brace yourself

he's not
kissing your hands because
he's in love with you;
you just won't let him kiss the other places
he'd muchratherbekissing.

brace yourself

you'll never be able to tell what's real,
what's the truth or what's a lie.
we're all real
we all tell lies
we all live lives
half the time
not knowing
what we're doing.
or what we really meant to say that one time,
everytime.

we speak in ways we believe benefit ourselves,
when,
instead, we should speak in ways we believe will benefit us
both.

brace yourself

things aren't always what they seem.

brace yourself

for the moments you'll spend in the company
of only yourself.

brace yourself

for the moments when being alone
is the only thing
that will save you
from
being alone.