Category Archives: Rants

Paper: Adapted

I recently joined the slam poetry team at my school and this is my first poem I’m going to present. It is an adaptation of the poem I posted last month called Paper.

 

Mouths are beautiful

The simplicity of the curves and lines that make up a person’s character

That define

Mouths define

Emotions, thoughts

Wishes, prayer

All whispered through the soft pink lips

Hearts

Creased and folded with smiles

Where both pain and elation reside

Two seemingly opposite ends of one spectrum

When in reality, life is a circle

And truly what goes around comes around

So these opposite in fact unite

Cross, layer, overlap

Says the postulate of something or other

Shoved down our brains in that geometry class we forgot about

No these opposite are not too far off

Elation and pain

Just ask a wristcutter

They aren’t hard to find in this new ear of self pity

Where everyone is stuck in a rut of immaturiy

and- middle school?

Where everything that happened was blown out of proportion

By everyone around us

So much so that now ever the older generations can’t find their way out of their own claustrophobic boxes

that are so dark that they can’t see past their own asses

Caught in a Peter Pan syndrome

And I’m afraid to grown up and set long-term goals

Because I’m afraid I’ll never change

And those who cut their wrists because they actually have a pain they need to escape

Not one fabricated by our minds’ rape by he media

But something so terrible they need a way out

Those ones are forgotten about

Lost in a sea of attention-starved Facebook statuses

Posted every other minute

Like someone really gives a shit

Making the world hard-pressed to find a smile

And that’s why I folded my tips at the diner into origami shapes

For the sake of a smile

Because those lines on the side of your mouth

That you let stay even after you laugh

Prove you are immune to the ignorance

of the media

Of the anti-age propaganda

Saying that to be happy is not what you really want

Because you could crack the powdered-smooth face of youth that wasn’t yours in the first place

But that of the Barbie dolls lying on your daughter’s shelves

Staring demonically up at you

And hold your gaze until you buy that new wrinkle remover

Whose active ingredients, if you bothered to check, are the exact same as the last one you tried

Feeding your addiction

Ever-growning

Your drug that distorts your mind and puts shadows of wrinkles in your mirror

And now your daughter snoops hungrily through your stash

of old and worn beauty products leaking onto the bathroom sink

Because she was born hungry

For mommy’s obsession

It’s all an illusuion

This world we think we dominate

Our ignorance humored by the higher intelligence studying us

Like a rat caught in a labrynth

On our shiny, sterilized stainless steel

We laugh at that because we feel

a distant connection?

And that makes us nervous

That we might discover the truth behind the allusive veil

It’s all foreshadowing

And last night I dreamed of a paper moon

Full and bright and confident

Taking up the whole of the sky

And the whole time I reached outfor it

All I wanted was to stroke the light

the curves

Because they reminded me of a familiar face

and that made me smile

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Habit

I stare at the glowing computer screen

Just stare

Because nothing I can think of

Seems to make sense

Though nothing really ever does

And when I think about

The words that rattle around

The abyss of some authors habit

I wonder aloud

If they know just what they’re saying

Or if they make it up on the spot

Because it sounds nice

Because they have a deadline

And I wonder if when they have a deadline

Then that means that the driving beat

Of their creative heart

Has gone flat

Killed by the abstraction of time

That they will follow as zombies

I think about this while

I procrastinate

While my typing is at a stand-still

Because my hands are busy scratching

Poison-ivy scars from last month

That don’t itch

But only because it’s a habit

My Misadventure of the Morning

Person riding bike along road with field of sunflowers on one side.

This is a post about my day because so many people have asked me about it today. And I fear that if one more person asks me how my day went, I may implode. So here. This is how my day went…

Tonight one of my school clubs is having a camp-out  in a local bit of woods. In order to go tonight, we had to set up all of the necessary things. We had to set up our fire pit, our food table, some tarps, and of course; our mighty tepee. So I joined this extra-curricular out of my own unfortunate naivety. Sure camping out in the woods by a roaring fire sounds fun, and setting up isn’t too bad either.

However, one never exactly thinks about transportation the bit of it. As transportation is often a greatly over-looked part of anything. And when my mom had an unexpected meeting this morning, I was forced to bike to my destination. So at about 11am, I set out on my yet-known misadventure.

It was early in the morning on a teacher in-service day, not hardly a soul had arisen from their beds. The breeze was crisp and clean and the sunshine was lovely. I was feeling pretty great on this early-December day when I thought I had no use for a coat. And I rolled along through my small town, enjoying the view of still-green grass and the yellow orb in the sky. My little brown vintage 3-speed huffy sped over the streets with ease. And then I turned.

It was a gaping mouth of a turn, going immediately from suburban street to country road lined thick with trees on either side. To turn down this road, you needed to roll down a very steep hill-and-curve. A terrifying one at that.

Soon I was headed down a steep hill going extremely to fast for my poor little bike. I didn’t want to go too fast in fear of popping my wheels. I didn’t want to hold down my breaks in fear of ruining them. I instead skimmed my feet over the asphalt to slow me down. And it went on like this for a few minutes. Riding down a very lonely road, skidding my feet, and going down a giant twisting hill. All went well until I approached yet another dangerous curve, just like the one before, but the opposite.

Right after I passed our water-treatment facility with no employee cars int he parking lot, and then an abandoned bed and breakfast, I had to turn again. Onto a steeply-inclined one-lane road. On one side, nothing but thick forest, on the other a complete drop over a cliff.

I attempted feebly to bike at this almost 70 degree incline before realizing my legs weren’t exactly the strongest things in the world. At all. And with this epiphany came a quick and depressing self-esteem buster. Only quick, though. As I had to fear for my life walking painfully up this never-ending blind spot. Cars, on the other road who were never there, now suddenly were zooming down toward me in alarming numbers. Every driver I saw turned back pitifully in my direction. With good reason, as I’m positive I looked very disheveled.

And the further up this hill I went, I noticed all the cars I saw were either old, beat-up vans with rust spots and no windows. Or scary-looking pick-up trucks (all gray or white) with windows all tinted past the illegal numbers. I began to get a tightening sense of fear in my chest, a defense mechanism most girls my age walking alone on isolated country roads should have. And I reached for my phone. I needed to feel the shape of what could be my savoir as scenes, bad scenes, began to play through my head. When my fingers touched my pocket, I realized in a panic that my savoir was absent. And when I found it to not be anywhere on me, I was really in a pickle.

And so I realized that in the frenzy of giving my brother a note telling my mom when I had left, and feeding my cat and dog, I had left the shell of blue plastic and silicon on my dresser.

Now, almost there, I began to jog/ bounce my way up the last stretch of hill. Pushing hard with my legs while my arms were stretched out comically to hold my handle bars. So close! I could see the rocks marking the entrance to the campsite and could see the field where we stayed through the thin lining of trees. I saw our fire wood we stacked yesterday put neatly by our fire pit and the giant logs we were going to use as seats. YES! I was here.

I pushed the bit of now-tangled hair out of my eyes and viewed the smooth, nearly worn-through bottoms of my converse, damage due to my self- breaking down the hill. Then I walked into our entrance, smiling at my feat I had just conquered, ready to tell my sad story.

Only to find that no one was there.

What Ever Happened To the Lending of The Jacket?

Remember all of those movies you see? You know, the old teen romance films where the jock gives the cheerleader his letter jacket to sport (get it? haha-ehm). Or the timid boy lends the girl of his dreams his blazer in the cold weather? Say, what ever did happened to that? The act is one of cordiality and it’s sweet. It makes the girl want to sit  staring into his eyes, smelling the cologne that’s rubbed off inside and smile. I wonder why the boys don’t do this anymore.

What I witness nowadays is, most of the time the girl has to steal the jacket to get the boys attention. Yes steal it! I witnessed this often walking through the cruddy, stinky hallways of my brother’s middle school. I hate going there because every single thing I see I end up saying to myself: “Now I know we weren’t like that.”, and besides, the odor is atrocious. Anyways, the girls tease the boys by taking their jackets and wearing them all day. They smell them and keep them and in most cases, the boys get mad! Completely understandable of course, especially when the girls take them home. But they boys just don’t get it.

Now up in high-school (where the air is fresher, for the most part) the boys mostly don’t bother anyways. Or they just don’t know how to react when a cute girl standing with them says, “You know, I’m freezing. I wish I brought a jacket…” The boys just blank out, imaging the act of offering their jacket to the girl and feeling like a hero, but in reality they just stand there in an awkward silence only penetrated by their snurking up their nose. Others when in this situation just chuckle. The flirtatious opportunity going straight over their heads.

Well, you say, why don’t you acknowledge the smart and sweet souls out there who aren’t so thick and can take a hint? Well, actually I would like to acknowledge them. Very much so. I personally have encountered two of these brave men. One, my crush. Though I’m positive it’s not mutual, he was just kind enough to lend me his jacket when our school’s heat broke on a very cold day. Like I said, he’s just a nice guy, but that just makes him seem all the more knightly. The other, a close friend who was worried I was going to freeze when I was walking around in the snow without a jacket.  He didn’t just lend me the jacket, he gave it to me. And while I have no feelings for him excepting that of friendship, just that small act made me blush and stop to think about him in a different light.

The moral of this post? Boys, if you want to form a bit of a trap for the girl of your dreams to slip into (that sounded kind of creepy) then you need to invest your time wisely and perk up your ears. Next time she’s cold, offer her your jacket. She’ll know your freezing for her and in that split second she’ll begin to notice you differently, even if it’s just for a second. Her heart will flutter, she’ll blush, and you have a starting point.

CAUTION: Exercise this with caution, though. If she rejects you it may be for these reasons: 1. She doesn’t know you well enough. 2. She’s trying to tough it out. In which case, insist. 3. She was hinting for someone else to assist her. If any of these scenarios play out and you get rejected, try again or find another way to approach her say… get to know her first?

That’s all. Just me trying to deploy a comeback for the chivalry when it come to young romance. It wouldn’t hurt…