"Untitled #4"
O temporary starlight,
won't you tell me
my real name.
Oh no, fade not! Do not leave me.
O streetlamps,
do not leave me, this night
In my bones,
somewhere in the marrow
the city slumbers,
and the clouds sleep in the sky,
all is silent above,
and they watch no more,
the clouds and the stars,
they watch no more.
But where will you find me?
Floating six inches,
off the ground.
Gravity it seems,
is losing its grip on me.
Four feet underwater?
You didn't know I could,
didn't know it was true,
but I breathe truer, freer air,
under the waves.
Or perhaps with a cheek,
at rest on the pavement,
listening to the city rumble,
as it snores, so peacefully.
Oh temporary starlight,
before the sun comes back around,
in sweet sunrise,
won't you tell me,
just whisper,
my real name.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Empty World
I was digging through some old poetry on my xanga and I found this. I thought I had reposted it but I guess not. It's easily the longest poem I've ever written. It has five parts. Feel free to post your thoughts.
I.
"The Day Everyone Vanished"
Empty world,
Can't see it on the tv,
but I can feel it.
The world is empty.
I walked outside and saw it all,
Aeroplanes falling,
Carwrecks and catastrophes,
but it's not on the news,
The tv is snow white.
I searched every room,
and i couldn't find you.
Checked the bedroom,
found your t-shirt.
checked the kitchen,
found dinner burning.
Checked everywhere,
everywhere.
even the crawlspace.
Didn't find you.
I cried in the dark.
Went outside to see the city burning,
Saw starlight downtown,
all the lights are out,
all the lights are out,
and I saw starlight in the midst of the flame.
Went to the supermarket,
and I couldn't find you.
There's no people anywhere.
Only fire.
I went to the hospital,
there's no people anywhere,
and I can't find you.
I cried in the hospital.
Rain falls heavy on the wreckage,
the phones are all dead,
my cell is a useless brick.
I keep looking,
in every shop
and every car,
but I cannot find you,
I think I know,
I won't find you,
but I can't stop looking.
Crawled into bed,
the day everyone vanished,
wrapped up in your clothes,
and cold blankets,
and cried once more.
Till sleep.
II.
"What have I got to lose?"
Woke up feeling selfish,
the whole world is empty,
but you're all I think of.
Do you get to be selfish,
when you're the only one left?
The fires are out.
The city burns only within,
I want to leave,
but it's all empty.
I need to leave,
can't stand our apartment,
too empty.
Fourteen flights of stairs.
Outside I see another storm gather,
As the clouds hold their breath,
growing purple with rain.
I wander outside,
in the wet.
Twisted metal looms,
airplane bits and truck guts,
but not an ounce
of blood nor bone
Downtown I see the lightning strike,
The tallest skyscraper burns anew,
as the lighting hits over and over again,
It beckons,
the highest tower,
it beckons.
I must go.
Leaving home behind,
I steal a bike,
and head for the inner city,
I steal a can of fruit,
First food.
With singular purpose I set my eyes,
to go among the towers,
and find all that is lost,
Six billion
And one.
What have I got to lose?
The tower beckons.
III.
"Everywhere the Lightning Strikes"
Sleep without tears,
I couldn't make it to the burning tower,
in just one day.
slept for twelve hours,
in a stranger's bed.
Had to force myself up,
wanted to sleep not twelve hours,
but forever.
I dreamed.
Crowded coffeeshops
that buzzed with conversation,
holding your hand on a park bench,
Piles of McDonald's hamburgers,
woke up hungry,
cold
and alone.
But I did not cry.
I brewed a pot of coffee,
and moved on.
With dry eyes, I stole a car.
Downtown the wreckage sang to me,
through the open windows,
life echoed like a thunderclap,
lyrics of a battle that was lost,
before it began.
Mystery sang to me,
as I parked before the burning skyscraper.
The whispered music turned to a howl,
that rose hair on the back of my neck,
the back of my arms.
People everywhere.
Dead.
Within shattered windows they lay,
still as if sleeping,
no lungs drawing air.
Corpses every last one,
I know because I checked every pulse,
and every face.
I couldn't find you,
and for once I was glad.
Every city on earth is empty,
every house and street and farm,
Every shop and car you can find,
but as I soon learned,
everywhere the lightning strikes,
An evil is afoot.
IV.
"The Mausoleum"
To the top floor I climbed,
hundreds of stairs,
in winding patterns
that never seemed to end,
till my legs grew lead casings,
and my head spun,
dizzy with the height,
the exhaustion,
the terror.
Rested halfway,
raided the vending machines,
refused to look out the windows,
at a world full with endless nothing,
and empty with everything,
it should have had.
To the top, to the top,
ascension drew me on,
I could hear the lightning,
and smell the burning,
but there is no thunder in this quiet world.
There are bodies scattered on every floor.
Some belong,
with ties and dressy skirts
and some I think,
with dirty plaid and tattered jeans
do not.
The top floor is death.
An open pit, filled with great machinery,
humming and humming and humming.
A lightning rod lies center stage,
like a conductor leading an orchestra.
The mausoleum,
this is where it started.
The walls are fire
but the machinery does not burn.
My hair stands on end once more,
but not for fear,
but for the charge that fills the room.
The top floor is empty.
No more answers,
just more words of mystery.
Lightning strikes again, leaping into the metal pole,
and I vanish.
V.
"The Slightest Peace"
Weightless!
I fell through a sea of stars,
galaxies of spinning light,
weaving through my fingertips,
Weightless,
I fell out of time and thought,
and woke up in an ocean,
drowning in an endless sea,
surrounded by millions, billions
floating all around me.
the lost.
All slept, all succumbed.
I could feel an exhaustion growing in my bones,
dragging
drawing me in,
clinging clothes,
like weights,
I make war with gravity.
I began my search anew,
lost in another world,
breathing water with empty lungs,
and I found you.
With a halo of hair surrounding,
in peaceful sleep,
dreaming.
My eyelids grew heavy,
my heartbeat slowed to nothing,
I felt the ceaseless drumming slow,
as I took you in my arms,
and gained the slightest peace at last,
as the deepest slumber overtook me.
I.
"The Day Everyone Vanished"
Empty world,
Can't see it on the tv,
but I can feel it.
The world is empty.
I walked outside and saw it all,
Aeroplanes falling,
Carwrecks and catastrophes,
but it's not on the news,
The tv is snow white.
I searched every room,
and i couldn't find you.
Checked the bedroom,
found your t-shirt.
checked the kitchen,
found dinner burning.
Checked everywhere,
everywhere.
even the crawlspace.
Didn't find you.
I cried in the dark.
Went outside to see the city burning,
Saw starlight downtown,
all the lights are out,
all the lights are out,
and I saw starlight in the midst of the flame.
Went to the supermarket,
and I couldn't find you.
There's no people anywhere.
Only fire.
I went to the hospital,
there's no people anywhere,
and I can't find you.
I cried in the hospital.
Rain falls heavy on the wreckage,
the phones are all dead,
my cell is a useless brick.
I keep looking,
in every shop
and every car,
but I cannot find you,
I think I know,
I won't find you,
but I can't stop looking.
Crawled into bed,
the day everyone vanished,
wrapped up in your clothes,
and cold blankets,
and cried once more.
Till sleep.
II.
"What have I got to lose?"
Woke up feeling selfish,
the whole world is empty,
but you're all I think of.
Do you get to be selfish,
when you're the only one left?
The fires are out.
The city burns only within,
I want to leave,
but it's all empty.
I need to leave,
can't stand our apartment,
too empty.
Fourteen flights of stairs.
Outside I see another storm gather,
As the clouds hold their breath,
growing purple with rain.
I wander outside,
in the wet.
Twisted metal looms,
airplane bits and truck guts,
but not an ounce
of blood nor bone
Downtown I see the lightning strike,
The tallest skyscraper burns anew,
as the lighting hits over and over again,
It beckons,
the highest tower,
it beckons.
I must go.
Leaving home behind,
I steal a bike,
and head for the inner city,
I steal a can of fruit,
First food.
With singular purpose I set my eyes,
to go among the towers,
and find all that is lost,
Six billion
And one.
What have I got to lose?
The tower beckons.
III.
"Everywhere the Lightning Strikes"
Sleep without tears,
I couldn't make it to the burning tower,
in just one day.
slept for twelve hours,
in a stranger's bed.
Had to force myself up,
wanted to sleep not twelve hours,
but forever.
I dreamed.
Crowded coffeeshops
that buzzed with conversation,
holding your hand on a park bench,
Piles of McDonald's hamburgers,
woke up hungry,
cold
and alone.
But I did not cry.
I brewed a pot of coffee,
and moved on.
With dry eyes, I stole a car.
Downtown the wreckage sang to me,
through the open windows,
life echoed like a thunderclap,
lyrics of a battle that was lost,
before it began.
Mystery sang to me,
as I parked before the burning skyscraper.
The whispered music turned to a howl,
that rose hair on the back of my neck,
the back of my arms.
People everywhere.
Dead.
Within shattered windows they lay,
still as if sleeping,
no lungs drawing air.
Corpses every last one,
I know because I checked every pulse,
and every face.
I couldn't find you,
and for once I was glad.
Every city on earth is empty,
every house and street and farm,
Every shop and car you can find,
but as I soon learned,
everywhere the lightning strikes,
An evil is afoot.
IV.
"The Mausoleum"
To the top floor I climbed,
hundreds of stairs,
in winding patterns
that never seemed to end,
till my legs grew lead casings,
and my head spun,
dizzy with the height,
the exhaustion,
the terror.
Rested halfway,
raided the vending machines,
refused to look out the windows,
at a world full with endless nothing,
and empty with everything,
it should have had.
To the top, to the top,
ascension drew me on,
I could hear the lightning,
and smell the burning,
but there is no thunder in this quiet world.
There are bodies scattered on every floor.
Some belong,
with ties and dressy skirts
and some I think,
with dirty plaid and tattered jeans
do not.
The top floor is death.
An open pit, filled with great machinery,
humming and humming and humming.
A lightning rod lies center stage,
like a conductor leading an orchestra.
The mausoleum,
this is where it started.
The walls are fire
but the machinery does not burn.
My hair stands on end once more,
but not for fear,
but for the charge that fills the room.
The top floor is empty.
No more answers,
just more words of mystery.
Lightning strikes again, leaping into the metal pole,
and I vanish.
V.
"The Slightest Peace"
Weightless!
I fell through a sea of stars,
galaxies of spinning light,
weaving through my fingertips,
Weightless,
I fell out of time and thought,
and woke up in an ocean,
drowning in an endless sea,
surrounded by millions, billions
floating all around me.
the lost.
All slept, all succumbed.
I could feel an exhaustion growing in my bones,
dragging
drawing me in,
clinging clothes,
like weights,
I make war with gravity.
I began my search anew,
lost in another world,
breathing water with empty lungs,
and I found you.
With a halo of hair surrounding,
in peaceful sleep,
dreaming.
My eyelids grew heavy,
my heartbeat slowed to nothing,
I felt the ceaseless drumming slow,
as I took you in my arms,
and gained the slightest peace at last,
as the deepest slumber overtook me.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
New Moon
I wrote a poem. I haven't written poetry in a long time, so it's kind of rough. Let me know what you think! I guess I was jealous of either House of Heroes or Stephanie Meyer... you decide.
"New Moon"
Every night when the world goes black,
I know I can count on you,
to light up the sky,
Your gravity compels,
I'm lost in the breakers you stir,
with your effortless grace.
Even a crescent can make the ocean waver,
just a sigh from your heavenly heights,
and the waves crash high and low,
and my heart slides away with the tide,
I could be caught in the endless depths,
but I know you're still there above me,
Well it's a new moon now,
and I can't see anything in the darkness,
but I just close my eyes,
and I can still feel your gravity,
pulling on my heart,
guiding me towards home
"New Moon"
Every night when the world goes black,
I know I can count on you,
to light up the sky,
Your gravity compels,
I'm lost in the breakers you stir,
with your effortless grace.
Even a crescent can make the ocean waver,
just a sigh from your heavenly heights,
and the waves crash high and low,
and my heart slides away with the tide,
I could be caught in the endless depths,
but I know you're still there above me,
Well it's a new moon now,
and I can't see anything in the darkness,
but I just close my eyes,
and I can still feel your gravity,
pulling on my heart,
guiding me towards home
Ipod Nonsense
My Ten Most Played Songs according to my Ipod: (Countdown style)
10. Answered --Thrice
9. In Exile --Thrice
8. Cold and Calculated --Project 86
7. Dark Angel Dragnet --Project 86
6. Map of the Problematique --Muse
5. A John Hancock With the Safety Off --Project 86
4. Red Telephone --Thrice
3. Where the Lines Overlap --Paramore
2. Strawberry Swing --Coldplay
1. Candlelight --Relient K
I had no idea I'd been listening to so much Project 86...
10. Answered --Thrice
9. In Exile --Thrice
8. Cold and Calculated --Project 86
7. Dark Angel Dragnet --Project 86
6. Map of the Problematique --Muse
5. A John Hancock With the Safety Off --Project 86
4. Red Telephone --Thrice
3. Where the Lines Overlap --Paramore
2. Strawberry Swing --Coldplay
1. Candlelight --Relient K
I had no idea I'd been listening to so much Project 86...
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Tiny Sandals
So yesterday my sister went on a walk downtown for something called iEmpathize. It's an organization dedicated to spreading awareness about trafficking children for sexual exploitation. It was a pretty big deal. They shut down every street we walked down so that we could pass out flyers and wave our signs. There were about two hundred people there. It was all really remarkable. According to statistics, a child is taken every two minutes. So by the time you finish reading this blog, another one just got taken. There was a tent set up on the site where everyone gathered before we began our walk. It had a movie on a loop and some artifacts taken from outside some brothels in Cambodia, as well as some therapy art children had done. One of the artifacts was a spark plug. I guess this guy was just riding around on a scooter talking to people about these atrocities, desperate to get the word out. They fixed his spark plug, and brought the old one home.
There was also a tiny pair of sandals, which really had an effect on me. Sorry for the poor quality picture... my phone is a piece of junk. When I saw just how small they were, I nearly started crying right then and there. And then every time I thought about those little flip flops for the next few hours, I nearly cried again. The idea of people so small and innocent getting caught up in the machinery of something so awful really got to me.
And now it's a day later, and I can write this blog without needing to fight back a single tear. Is there something kind of wrong with that? It's so easy for us to forget about the outside world, trapped as we are in our own lives, our own agendas. Apathy has become such an automatic reaction it doesn't even feel like a choice anymore... it's just natural to be numb to it all.
But God doesn't call us to forget, or to look away. There's a world out there full of broken, scared, lost, hurting people who need our help. If we don't step into the gap, who will?
So if you're like me, wanting to break the spell of the typical(to quote Mute Math) what can be done? Well, there's praying, there's giving, and there's volunteering, as a start. I think it's important to own these issues. It's not just Cambodia's problem, or those poor starving African kids problem, it's the world's problem. It's our problem, my problem, your problem. Now I'm not saying this to beat anyone up, or to make anyone feel guilty, I just want to stir up a little change. If one person reads this blog and takes one minute to pray for one other person, that's enough for me.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thoughts from the Whirlwind
I realized something today.
I haven't blogged about my life in seven months, since I failed my fire academy practical. The last few months have been sliding by with almost frightening speed, but I feel like I know a little something more than I used to about staying calm in a whirlwind.
I got a new job about a month and a half ago. I used to work in a warehouse, now I travel between eight different stores for Best Buy, setting something called a planogram. It's a fun word for a usually boring task. We're given an area of the store, and we have to make it look the way the planogram tells us to. My favorite areas to work are music, video games, and appliances. I don't like GPS, because it's a pain in the neck, or home theater, because all those TVs get HOT when they're all on.
I realized today I miss wearing blue a little bit. On the projects, my new team, we all wear black. We're sort of like ninjas in that regard, that and we are all trained to kill at the drop of a hat.
So that's been work. In other areas of life, I emerged from fire academy hopeful only to learn that firefighting is one of the most overwhelmingly competitive jobs in Colorado, if not the whole US. It's also one of the most dangerous, so I found it surprising that so many are so willing to enlist.
Frustrated in my efforts to find I job, I've turned down a little bit of a different path. I returned to an old love, writing. I finally had a breakthrough this year in making progress through a book, and now I'm seventeen chapters in. Seventeen! I'm hoping to finish it, give it a good deal of polish, and get it published. Unless some firefighters show up at my door and offer me a job, in which case I'll have no reason to complain either way.
My new coworkers keep telling me I don't smile enough, and I've been wondering why that is. I feel fairly happy most of the time. Growing up is a funny thing. You sort of learn to march to the beat of your own drum, and care less what others think of you, no matter how crazy you can seem sometimes. And believe me, my coworkers definitely think I'm crazy.
There's a guy at my new job no one seems to like, we'll call him Mike. Another guy on the team "Bill" says Mike reminds him of a serial killer. I was told I might be reminiscent of the Mike at first. But a few days ago Bill told me I wasn't like the "serial killer" after all and I got a seal of approval. I don't generally care how people see me, but it was still good to hear.
So I feel fairly joyous, and I attribute this joy to God, but I don't show it. Maybe one of the biggest things I've learned this year (and am still learning) is to let my happiness radiate a little bit, and smile more. I've always been fairly awkward in social situations, and I'm trying to learn how to "de-awkward" myself. It's been slow going but I think I've made some progress. People are very much like unfinished books, our stories are all works in progress, and they tend to get better given time.
Chapter 17 is coming along nicely, should be posted soon. I love what I've got so far. I'm so excited to share it. Later llamas.
Recommended listening:
"Elevator" --House of Heroes
"Love is For the Middle Class" --House of Heroes
"Protection" --Future of Foresty
"Working to Be Loved" --Future of Forestry
"Oh, Happiness" --David Crowder Band
"Shadows" --David Crowder Band
"Part Of It" --Relient K
"Map of the Problimatique" --Muse
"Warrior" --Secret and Whisper
"Xoxoxo" --Secret and Whisper
I haven't blogged about my life in seven months, since I failed my fire academy practical. The last few months have been sliding by with almost frightening speed, but I feel like I know a little something more than I used to about staying calm in a whirlwind.
I got a new job about a month and a half ago. I used to work in a warehouse, now I travel between eight different stores for Best Buy, setting something called a planogram. It's a fun word for a usually boring task. We're given an area of the store, and we have to make it look the way the planogram tells us to. My favorite areas to work are music, video games, and appliances. I don't like GPS, because it's a pain in the neck, or home theater, because all those TVs get HOT when they're all on.
I realized today I miss wearing blue a little bit. On the projects, my new team, we all wear black. We're sort of like ninjas in that regard, that and we are all trained to kill at the drop of a hat.
So that's been work. In other areas of life, I emerged from fire academy hopeful only to learn that firefighting is one of the most overwhelmingly competitive jobs in Colorado, if not the whole US. It's also one of the most dangerous, so I found it surprising that so many are so willing to enlist.
Frustrated in my efforts to find I job, I've turned down a little bit of a different path. I returned to an old love, writing. I finally had a breakthrough this year in making progress through a book, and now I'm seventeen chapters in. Seventeen! I'm hoping to finish it, give it a good deal of polish, and get it published. Unless some firefighters show up at my door and offer me a job, in which case I'll have no reason to complain either way.
My new coworkers keep telling me I don't smile enough, and I've been wondering why that is. I feel fairly happy most of the time. Growing up is a funny thing. You sort of learn to march to the beat of your own drum, and care less what others think of you, no matter how crazy you can seem sometimes. And believe me, my coworkers definitely think I'm crazy.
There's a guy at my new job no one seems to like, we'll call him Mike. Another guy on the team "Bill" says Mike reminds him of a serial killer. I was told I might be reminiscent of the Mike at first. But a few days ago Bill told me I wasn't like the "serial killer" after all and I got a seal of approval. I don't generally care how people see me, but it was still good to hear.
So I feel fairly joyous, and I attribute this joy to God, but I don't show it. Maybe one of the biggest things I've learned this year (and am still learning) is to let my happiness radiate a little bit, and smile more. I've always been fairly awkward in social situations, and I'm trying to learn how to "de-awkward" myself. It's been slow going but I think I've made some progress. People are very much like unfinished books, our stories are all works in progress, and they tend to get better given time.
Chapter 17 is coming along nicely, should be posted soon. I love what I've got so far. I'm so excited to share it. Later llamas.
Recommended listening:
"Elevator" --House of Heroes
"Love is For the Middle Class" --House of Heroes
"Protection" --Future of Foresty
"Working to Be Loved" --Future of Forestry
"Oh, Happiness" --David Crowder Band
"Shadows" --David Crowder Band
"Part Of It" --Relient K
"Map of the Problimatique" --Muse
"Warrior" --Secret and Whisper
"Xoxoxo" --Secret and Whisper
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