October 2008
47 posts
1 tag
Essay Deux
The air leaves an acrid, burning smell in my nostrils. It’s repulsive and terrifying, but something makes me suck it in, each breath confirming that this is real. The ash that coats everything—everything that’s left, that is—covers my shoes, the black leather now hidden beneath a layer of gray. The whole world is gray. Gray and black, as if someone took the world’s color...
1 tag
Essay
The first layer of the Rubik’s cube is the hardest to solve. All the colors are mixed up; nothing’s where it’s supposed to be. You’re lost, with an idea of how it’s supposed to look, but no idea how to get it there. Maybe you’ve watched others solve it, you’ve seen what they do, so you start twisting and turning the cube, trying to line up the colors, but it seems that for every step forward you...
1 tag
Please Tell Me
that I did not submit this as part of my Emerson application…
“Girl Saturday.” Why? Because Girl Friday’s the everyday girl, the girl next door. She could be anyone. But Girl Saturday…she shows up late, messy. Being a weekend, there’s no schedule, no work or school to take up most of the day. Sometimes when she comes, it’s a surprise—though, once...
2 tags
I always have poetry running through my head. Stream of consciousness, one part narrating my life and one part fantasy about what I wish that I could be. What I wish I could be doing. Real good shit, but when my fingers hit the keyboard nothing comes out right and I’m left with just another bunch of words that don’t match up right and won’t get me anywhere. Sometimes it hurts....
2 tags
I tried to write you a poem.
I constructed line after line,
about your callused fingers,
your bitten nails, and the way
that your eyes crinkle up when you smile.
I tried to write you a poem,
but every line came out like a love poem,
even though that was not my intention.
So I’m sorry that I did not write
a poem about how you cry when you’re happy.
I tried to write you a...
2 tags
I believe...
…in “to thine own self be true.” I believe in not giving a shit about all the crap out there but I believe in finding something you care about and really giving a shit then. I believe in loving what you love and who cares if you’re outside of the target demographic and people can’t hang. I believe in not sacrificing the environment for my own personal comfort. I believe in hair straighteners...
Hello
A lot of this writing is from my Creative Writing class, Senior Year. It’s titled with either the date written or the “Last Modified” date. Most things were written from prompts, but none are included here as they are mostly in my binder back home. Notes are appended when necessary (in my opinion).
This is all largely unedited, feel free to question/comment.
05.08.08
Kick through the shit on the floor of your room until you find them, both flip flops, dirty and worn by now but still functional. Wade back out to the doorway, drop them on the floor, nudge them straight with your bare toes. Slip on first one, then the other. Walk out of your room, down the stairs, and step out the door into the sunshine. Leave your shoes in the doorway and keep going. This is the...
03.28.08
Hello, I chew my fingernails.
You laugh like I’m joking, but I’m not.
I want to tell you all my fails.
I carry stones in buckets and pails,
Building walls – I’ve built a lot.
Hello, I chew my fingernails.
I never receive any mails,
Not from Jim, or Jo, or Dot.
I want to tell you all my fails.
I spend my days riding the rails,
At night make stew in a rusty pot....
03.27.08
I hold raindrops in my palms. Diamonds drip from between my fingers, smashing on the asphalt beneath my feet. Clouds cover the sky but instead of darkness light surrounds me. By now my clothes stick to my skin and my hair drips and my fingers grasp the rain.
02.01.08
An old school bus, its bumper crumpled, its windows broken, and its door permanently open pulled to a stop in front of the train station. A train had just steamed merrily by, its cars filled with happy souls and uplifting thoughts. The passengers who awaited the next departure lounged on benches scattered throughout the station, chatting amongst themselves, sipping coffee, reading the newspaper (a...
03.07.08
The phone broke the silence in the flat and Claire held her breath to listen, counting the rings. One, two, three, four…on the fifth ring the answering machine clicked on, just like she knew it would. She listened to her own voice telling the caller to leave a message, name and number, please, and she’d be sure to call back. When the recording ended, Claire realized that she was still...
03.26.08
I really, really, really have to pee.
I drink way too much soda pop
and I really ought to finally stop
I hope that you’ll agree with me.
As far as I can see,
There’s not much better than an ice-cold Coke
especially when you’re nearly broke.
Damn, that’s good, golly gee.
Gosh, I really wish that I could go
But instead I sit here, I must write.
A gentle breeze...
03.26.08
“Hold your breath,” he warns, grabbing my hands, pulling me under
We hit the pool’s bottom and struggle to stay below
Unable to surface, because that means death by swordslash
Such are the lives of fearsome pirates
When the pressure is too great and I’m really out of oxygen
I pull him to the surface and gasp into the hot summer air
We burst from the water, race...
03.26.08
burning ice
exploding on my tongue
I open my eyes
and am
blinded by the darkness
My ears are aching from the silence.
Here, I am there
And you are everywhere
and nowhere to be found
I can feel the edges of the mint container
in my pocket and hold it in my palm
This helps me feel less alone.
I close my eyes again, and
can almost taste their relief
As they stop trying to see.
When I...
03.26.08
Welcome to Bemidji! The words splash yellow and blaring across the front of the brochure produced by the Chamber of Commerce. Inside are listed all the “attractions” of my small Minnesota town, accompanied by pictures of smiling kids and smoking barbecues. There is also a map, with stars marking the important places. As I trace my finger along the street, in my mind I do not see what...
03.20.08
The air is so hot that it peels the skin from my bones,
raising huge, blister like bubbles.
Like blisters but my whole skin,
growing, bursting, peeling, leaving only
my skeleton.
The air is so hot that it vaporizes my blood
and when someone hands me
a glass of cool water
red beads gather on its surface.
The air is so hot that my eyeballs shrivel like raisins
and drop from their sockets...
03.14.08
Welcome to the inoculated city
We’re all injected, without pity
There is no one who’s not immune
In our idyllic, small commune
So come on here and get a jab!
We’ll cure your cold, and lose your flab.
Vaccinate you from yourself
Turn you into a happy elf.
Welcome to the inoculated city
Where we shun all that’s dirt and filthy
If you are different, you will pay...
03.06.08
“Hello,” I think, meaning to say, but the words never reach my lips.
“Hello,” you think back, and, though the room remains silent, I could have sworn I heard your voice.
This is new to me, this speaking without speaking, and, understandably, it is strange, and somewhat uncomfortable. If you had told me(no, not you you, for you “telling” me anything is...
01.25.08
I stared at the quivering lump on the table. It was dark, dark red, the colour I would have expected it to be, had I ever expected to see such a thing. A human heart, freshly plucked from a body (the body that had, until recently housed it, sat, slumped in a chair to my left, quietly awaiting its return) and set on the rough wooden surface in front of me. I wanted to touch it, poke it, prod it....
01.18.08
Hello there, creature.
You stand next to me,
gazing out over the land,
goosebumps raising on your arms
as the night grows cold and dark
cloaking the hills in black.
Pseudo nothingness.
Out here, alone in the night,
the quiet is comforting.
Inside, warm rooms are teeming
with people, food, music.
All the company in the world,
but still, we’re here watching the dark.
Rain starts...
01.17.08
Enough? Have you had enough? I have. I’ve had enough and more. More than enough. More that is necessary, sufficient, or desirable. I’ve gone so far past enough that I’ve come out the other side, and have begun to need again. It sounds ludicrous, I know. How could one have so much enough that they haven’t any longer? I have no idea, but I know that it’s true. The...
12.15.07
i hold my breath to keep from screaming
the air is cold,
so cold that one false move
will shatter it
i’m not worried because
i can’t move
the words “it’s alright”
echo hollowly around me
meaningless
in the dark i see shadows
shadows making moving pictures of your life
our life
your smile is warmer than the sun
and yet
it’s so cold
were i to...
12.06.07
The buildings rise on either side of the street, cold, dark soldiers standing in rank, keeping watch over the city. The air hangs damp and chilly. The streets are slick, dark as well. The sky is obscured by a fog that swallows the tops of the buildings, fuelling the idea that they go on forever. The cold is more than just a feeling. It permeates everything - the warm winter jacket, the layers of...
11.16.07
January
Rain
Cold, Wet
Standing in line
Along side glass pyramids
I can’t believe I’m here
Earlier I stood on a hill
Watching overcast skies cloak the Parisian skyline
But now we’re inside, on escalators, descending down
We wander halls filled with art, searching for her
“Ou est…” doesn’t help when you can’t understand the answer.
We run...
11.15.07
I hold my head above water. Sometimes it means pushing others down. Sink or swim. I swim.
In the dark the TV flickers. The house is filled with laughter. Power outage. Now it’s quiet.
11.15.07
I hate to feel cornered. Snuck up upon and now I’m sitting here and everyone’s around me, blaming me, talking at me, making me cry and wish that my hair was still long so I could hide behind it. It was a sneak attack, too. Out of nowhere. Actually, I found out later, out of left field, but still unexpected. I was doing what I was supposed to be, for once, studying for a history test...
11.02.07
That’s the fifth one today. They’re dropping like flies. The expression strikes me as odd fro some reason and I explode with laughter, guffaws bursting from my gut and shaking the air. They all turn to stare at me, shocked. Frightened. I can’t stop laughing to explain myself, my face is already red as I gasp for breath and turns steadily redder with embarrassment as they all wait...
11.08.07
I had thought it was for always, für immer, us together, you and me.
Until you said we must wake up to the real world, their world.
And so now we stand together at the end of our world.
Here the dark is at once empty and at once suffocating.
You brought us here, it’s your fault, I love you.
“Look at me,” you plead, but I do not.
I can’t face the pain in your eyes.
I...
11.01.07
Let Them Eat Cake: A Meditation on Mediocrity in Neo-Puritan Society and French Fusion Cooking Schools with an Emphasis on the Excellent Use of Scallions to Achieve the Ultimate Flavour Experience.
When we were younger we used to hit each other with frying pans until our mother made us stop. Cellular telephones cause cancer in children without tin foil hats. Have you eaten your vegetables...
10.26.07
I stare at the screen, its blankness is
intimidating, taunting, telling me
that I will never succeed. I search
for my muse. Inspiration comes in all
shapes and sizes. A tall boy with dreadlocks
spurting from his cap laughs in my
direction. You are nothing but distraction.
To the left of my ripped sneakers sit
equally trashed Vans. Checkerboarded
and dirty, disappearing beneath
ragged...
10.26.07
The moon shone bright and stark
Casting shadows
But here, hidden, amongst the broken stones
Grasses wild and tombstones mouldering
I kneel beside my beautiful beloved
A corpse more life-like in death
That it had been in life
His skin, always so pale
His eyes endless pools of darkness
Their mystery forever cloaked
I brush back the long dark hair
Tendrils snaking over his shoulders...
10.25.07
Spaghetti Os are crusting in a porcelain bowl, left out for far too long under beating sunlight. A sweet, rotten odor floats into my nose. Yesterday’s lunch. Today’s dinner. Not for me. Hanna’s coming over, and she said for me to make her something delicious. She’ll never be able to tell. If I slop on some more sauce and drown it in parmesan she’ll eat them all....
10.19.07
The mud squishes up between my toes. Thick, like cake batter, chocolate cake batter, devil’s food, but with a greenish tinge that hints at something far more vile than Betty Crocker. Warm, too, in that cool warmth that can only come from natural things, heated by the sun’s rays but chilled by the shadows below the surface. My toenails beneath the coating of mud are ripped, some bloody,...
10.18.07
The perfect room. Everything is in its proper place. The floor is spotless, and even though it is carpet it seems to sparkle with cleanliness. The room is perfect. Stepping inside is like walking into a Sunset magazine photo spread. Hallucination revelation, delusion of being Martha Stewart. It’s a crazy rush of domestic glee to glace around. Until the alarm rings and I open my eyes and gaze...
10.11.07
When you stand barefoot underneath the trees all you can see is green and brown and sometimes a little yellow, in places, peeking through, dancing with the sunshine as the dead leaves poke under your feet, dry and sharp, needles, really, but not the Sleeping Beauty kind, not the kind that will put you into a magical sleep while roses grow up and over your castle, because there isn’t a...
10.05.07
We are standing on the roof again. The city is spread out beneath us like a glittering carpet, welcoming, tantalizing, lying. It’s silent and as he balances on the edge no wind ruffles his hair and his tears drop straight down, diamonds falling into the abyss. I scream his name but no sound escapes in to the cold air. He hears me anyway, turns, looks into my eyes and stabs me in the heart...
10.04.07
Agrarian alchemists acclimate artichokes,
Affluent and arrogantly acquiring avocados
Binging on broccoli, beets, barley
Bothering badgers, badgering baboons
Children cook chocolate chunk cookies
Computers count calories and crumbs
Dim, dark, dank, dreary
Denziens dart deviously demonizing
Elegance existed eons ago,
Eminent elders explain
Friday: freezing, frying, frowning, failing...
10.04.07
Snap snap snap flashbulbs pop in time to the pounding techno. In between the bursts of light anorexic teenaged models stalk to runway. Step step step. Stop. Pose. Turn. They are expressionless, their eyes glued on an invisible horizon. We stare at them, eating them with our eyes. Later, in magazines and blogs we’ll purge our feast. Welcome to bulimia. But it’s not the girls we’re watching, really....
09.28.07
Welcome to the magical mystery tour. Step inside a record album. Leave behind all that is today and tomorrow and join me in yesterday.
I’m standing in the old attic, my head barely brushing the spiderwebs that hang, gracefully luxurious, from the rafters. Surrounding me, in piles of boxes and bins and in bags are all the mementos of my youth, of the youth of my parents, and of my...
09.27.07
The shelf of polaroids is gathering dust…it gathers on the glossy surfaces, in the cracks of the small knicknacks brought back from trips to China and to Rome, and on top of the letters that were never sent.
Smile! She’s grinning at me though the viewfinder, blonde hair glowing in the summer sun. I click the button and the camera whirrs and spits out a photo, gray and nothing like...
09.21.07
Boys who wear eyeshadow and pants that fit are emo. That’s just the way it is. It doesn’t matter anything about their personality. It doesn’t matter that they don’t listen to the genre of music from which the term is derived. It doesn’t matter that they are, in fact, blisteringly happy most of the time. No, they must be emo. Emo emo emo emo emo.
It’s...
09.20.07
You can’t do that. I stared at myself in the mirror. No, really, you can’t do that. This was a battle of wills. I’m telling you…you. can’t. do that. My eyes narrowed. So did mine. I watched my hand come slowly up into the mirror, watched the scissors gleaming with a sinister silver shine. Outside of the mirror they were fuzzy, out of focus, half-real, but inside the...
09.14.07
I like to wear high heels on days it rains.
I like to dance alone with my eyes closed.
Sometimes it feels better when nothing fits.
By staring at the sun you’ll burn your eyes
but staring at your feet will kill your soul.
I like to hold my breath until it’s dark.
I like to always search but never find.
09.14.07
Cold rain muffles the night sounds outside. I am here. You are there. We are alone together.
08.31.07
It’s like when
you’re climbing
backwards
down a ladder,
and your foot swims
in the air until
it finds the rung
and you step down
and down again
to safety.
Now imagine
if the rung
wasn’t there.
If there was
only space
and you slip away
and fall forever,
never stopping.
Breathless and
terrified and
no way out.
It’s like that.
08.31.07
There are twin boys and two others.
The K’s versus the G’s.
Tokio Hotel is the biggest band in Europe and they’re taking over the world.
Mile long dreads and a big a** baseball cap hide Tom from the world.
Bill’s got a gothic lion’s mane.
More eyeshadow than the 80’s.
Georg spends hours with the straightener.
Gusti’s just Gusti.
Always has been....