Representation

this has all been a little one sided.
I'd like some fair representation here!
Huh? Do you hear me?
Big eye in the sky,
Do you hear me?
Here I am, pounding my head on the wall of everything that is reality,
making all the ruckus I can
and no one, not anyone is listening.
I'd like a little fair representation
is that really so much to ask?
It is the twenty-first century after all.
All I want is for someone to listen to my side of the story for once
for a change.
All I'm asking for is fairness.
But all I'm getting is a bunch of washed out cliches.
misquoted, defeated, destroyed and nearing a state some would call apathy
-that's me.
and all because no one else believes in fair representation.

The things she found

I found a penny in my pocket
I found a pebble in my shoe
I found a dollar on the sidewalk
I found love when I found you

I found a star that had no family
I found a bluebell in the cold
I found a fire to warm my hands at
I found your hand to hold

I found a gate to an alternate reality
I found a boat to take us there
I found a crew to make the journey
Just you and me- we'll make it there.

I!

hate!
using!
exclamation!
points!
it's!
like!
laughing!
at!
my!
own!
joke!
over!
and!
over!
and!
over!
again.

A conversation with my imagination

Hello?  Are you there?  I could really use some inspiration right now.  I need something to distract me from my life.

Come up with it yourself.  Just let me sleep five more minutes.

No.  I need you.  Bet out of bed you lazy bum, honestly!  Who ever heard of a person who had a lazy imagination.

Alright.  Fine.  I'll get up.

Thanks.

Alright. I'm here, ready to go, you said you needed some inspiration right?

Wow, you sound so agreeable today.  I'm not entirely sure that it's really you.

It's me, though perhaps your knowledge of me is not as complete as you believe it to be.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not so perhaps.

"Perhaps or not so perhaps;" that is the question.

Indeed it is the question. The other question is: "Is there an answer?"

I do not know because I think I do not know due to the possibility that I do not know if I know or not.

There.  Something inspired- and I didn't even need to do your work for you.

Perhaps.  

Mantra

running on an empty road
my feet pound out a syncopated beat alongside my heart
leaping from step to step
my legs blur beneath me and I take flight
flying to the background music that is my mantra
I am beautiful both inside and out

dancing in my bedroom
late at night the lights are out the music is turned down low
stepping from side to side
my eyes seek color in the dark blue light
and I'm dancing to the music that is my mantra
I am beautiful both inside and out

singing inside my head
the symphony wells and surges trying to escape its confines
dancing from note to note
my mind is a whirlwind of dancers in tutus
and I'm imagining the music that is my mantra
I am beautiful both inside and out

Magpie}

pieces
fragments
bits of broken glass bottles lying on street corners
out of yesterday's trash I make my nest
broken bike wheels
forgotten party streamers
memories that have long since been forgotten
I make my nest from these
Out of dying flowers and dried up water
The things no one wanted are what I want to surround myself with
I guess it's because it gives me somewhere
where I fit in
surrounded by beautiful trash
which no one wanted
in spite of it's potential
the problem with our society
is that we throw out the puzzle piece that doesn't fit
instead of returning it to the puzzle that it rightly belongs with.

It's that time of year again.

Everyone's spirits are running high and low. One minute you're up and the next you're not. Hormones are raging, and I swear to God someone is going to get pregnant. Exams. For a five letter word it begins to sound like one very powerful expletive. They're the be-all-end-all of tests. Literally. And they're going to kill us all.
The feeling of freedom- so elusive and yet so pervaisive is becoming increasingly evident. It's here! The murmur runs up and down the hallways like Speedy Gonzales. Summer! But it's not here. It's prancing and dancing, just beyond our reach. It's prancing and dancing, just after exams. I'd capitalize that word, but it wouldn't be grammatically correct. And grammar is insanely important when you're writing an essay.
People are skipping- the teachers are both incredibly annoyed and remarkably nonchalant about it. It's a time of great paradoxes. Freedom and misery, annoyance and nonchalance, up and down, round and around.
Everyone is making up and breaking up. Getting it off and getting it on. We're all making rash, life-impacting decisions that will haunt us forever. Like getting tongue piercings, naval rings, tattoos and new boyfriends.
Exams. They should be illegal. They do more dammage to the teenage mentality than drinking and smoking pot. And you can't even blame it all on peer pressure.

Robots and Pop Tarts

I am like a hot poptart dropped on a cold kitchen floor.
falling, falling, falling until SPLAT
sugary melting icing stopped dead in its tracks, frozen.
Frozen like the wasteland I have come to call my home
blending with everything around me
complacent like a poptart fading into cold tile
just floating, complacent until I STOP
Stop, Drop, and Roll like the robot I have become
Rolling away from the flames that will melt this
Cold, metallic exterior licking the Robot heart within this frame.
Because regardless of what everyone says, Robots need love too

I am the soft, sweet silence of cold, hard surrender
I can feel the peace, the beauty of just letting go.
Letting go of everything I once held dear and exchanging it
Exchanging it all for a pale shadow of the freedom I once knew.
Surrender myself and watch myself
as if I was a fly on the wall with no chance of falling into my own soup
as if nothing can hurt me while I drift
Drift complacently, into a blue sunrise off of a silent lagoon.
With my troubles far behind me and my dreams ahead of me
Running so fast to fling myself off the edge of this waterfall
Just to spend those few minutes flying until I drop
Drop like a hot poptart on a cold kitchen floor.

And at the end of the day, I guess this is my story
The Love song of the Maltshake and the sugar pill.
A story of Poptarts falling in love with Robots
They say that love is a dangerous angel.
My love is like a sunrise in Antarctica
It's frozen and ice cold but it's still something unique.

Vignettes

Sunlight dances on the water
The scent of denim rides the wind
A little girl who's singing, splashes water onto her knees
The young man is still smiling
Laying in the woven hammock
He is singing as he’s swaying in the gentle autumn breeze.

And the sun shines off his glasses
The voices in the background
Bring me back into the moment, as my memories fade away
And I can hear him pleading
But I thought you said you loved me
And I’m getting up and leaving, out the door of the cafe.

And a pen taps on the paper
Says- I want you to remember
A time when you were younger, you were happy, you were free.
Say- mister what is freedom
But a sickly man’s dying dream?
A flower in your pocket? A crumbling castle seen clearly?

Where’s freedom when a little girl
Her hands tied fast behind her
Is forced onto a mattress, a voice whispers soft, yet clear
Telling her keep her mouth shut
Not to scream or call for help
For even if she wishes it, there’s no one around to hear.

Person of Tomorrow

I'm the rock that is so light and free that it's floating on top of the water.
forget just floating on water - I'm so strong that I'm flying through the air of my own volition.
I'm the voice of the mountains
I'm the man in the moon.
I can do this.
but at the end of the day it's just me.
the lights are out and I'm sitting in my closet crying
because I can't, I can't do this.
Every morning I wake up and I look in the mirror
and I try to tell myself that I'm beautiful
but I can't.
because I know that I think that I know that I think that I'm not.
Not beautiful
Not special
Nothing worth loving.
And I go to school and I take all the hurting that other students throw at me
and I take all the shaming that my teachers give to me
and I just sit there under the weight of it all, crushed.
I'm the rock on the bottom of the pond, held down by the weight of all the water rushing over my head.
and at the end of the day I'm just the little girl, sitting in my closet crying

because I can't, I can't do this.

But I can. And I will. Because I have to.
I'm the rock that's so strong that it's flying through the air of it's own volition.
I'm the voice of the mountains
I'm the man in the moon.
I'm the person of tomorrow.

All my life I've been a yesterday.
I've been the could've beens, the should've beens. The wasn'ts.
And what is yesterday? It's the past.
It can't touch you. It can't help you.
Yesterday can only watch.
Yesterday is in a box.

Did I ever tell you?
I'm a mime.
I've got a box within a box within a box that I am in.
People like mimes, because they're entertaining, but also because they're in a box.
Things in a box can't hurt you, they stay in their box and they leave you in yours.
Yesterday is in a box.
Yesterday can't hurt you.
Yesterday is just like every other yesterday before it.
It's yesterday. And before that was yesterday.
It's in the past just like every other faceless yesterday before it.
Like I was.

But I don't want to be a today.
Today is to close to yesterday.
Tomorrow today will be just another faceless yesterday, like every faceless yesterday before it.
Tomorrow today will be anonymous
No one will care about it anymore.

So I want to be a tomorrow.
Tomorrow is untouchable.
Tomorrow is unbeatable.
Tomorrow is infinite. It just never stops coming, tomorrow will be tomorrow, followed by the day after it and the day after tomorrow's tomorrow will be tomorrow too.
Tomorrow calls to you, "come here, try to touch me. Try to hurt me."
But you can't, because nothing ever touches tomorrow.
You can run and run as fast as you can, but you can't catch up to tomorrow.

And I will be tomorrow, I will be hopeful.
I'm the rock that's so strong that it's flying through the air of it's own volition.

I'm the voice of the mountains
I'm the man in the moon.
I'm the person of tomorrow.