Post number two hundo, baybeeee.
Unfortunately I was sick today so I couldn't really write. But hey.
200 posts. That's a lot. Thanks to those of you have stuck around, if there even are any of you.
It's been fun.
30 June 2010
29 June 2010
Tuesday Tellings, week 17
I'm scared you're lying.
I'm scared you're holding back.
But I don't know which one would be scarier if it were true.
I'm not in it to win it, I'm in it for you
I can feel your warmth even over 2,048 miles.
There was the same time
Every day
That the sun came
To rest on the table,
Warming the clear glass,
Coating its wood surface.
One day
I was so sick of this routine
Seeing the same thing
Every day,
So I scratched the glass,
And it made a harsh noise
I swear, I swear.
It echoed with your voice
Still trapped in the room,
Isolated
From everything except
My presence,
Not willing to go anywhere.
Now your voice is gone
But the scratch lingers.
There was the same time
Every day
That the sun came
To rest on the table,
Warming the clear glass,
Coating its wood surface.
One day
I was so sick of this routine
Seeing the same thing
Every day,
So I scratched the glass,
And it made a harsh noise
I swear, I swear.
It echoed with your voice
Still trapped in the room,
Isolated
From everything except
My presence,
Not willing to go anywhere.
Now your voice is gone
But the scratch lingers.
28 June 2010
Breaking reflection
I've been staring for far too long.
This mirror not only reflects the obvious -
Dust lingering on the glass,
Doubles so close,
A duplicate world
dlrow etacilpud A
That you can almost touch
All sight, no sound.
Take a picture
And you'll see
The brother flash,
But she won't dare take pictures
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel beautiful enough.
She's been handed so much time to overcome -
Overcome what?
Overcome all those obstacles
That she has left silent,
That she has left in the battlefield for so long,
Left bloody and bruised but certainly still alive.
She just runs by it
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel strong enough.
One day she was running,
The star on the necklace
Her father gave her softly
Hitting her chest
As a reminder
That he is always there
That he is always there
Even if she runs away
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel good enough.
She was running
And she halted 'cause there was
There was a stranger standing there quietly,
A stranger who asked a question that froze
Her world momentarily,
A stranger who asked the question,
"Why do you run?"
And she was
Frozen
For just a second,
But she said "to break the mirror.
To step on all the people that made me feel."
Then she kept running.
This mirror not only reflects the obvious -
Dust lingering on the glass,
Doubles so close,
A duplicate world
dlrow etacilpud A
That you can almost touch
All sight, no sound.
Take a picture
And you'll see
The brother flash,
But she won't dare take pictures
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel beautiful enough.
She's been handed so much time to overcome -
Overcome what?
Overcome all those obstacles
That she has left silent,
That she has left in the battlefield for so long,
Left bloody and bruised but certainly still alive.
She just runs by it
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel strong enough.
One day she was running,
The star on the necklace
Her father gave her softly
Hitting her chest
As a reminder
That he is always there
That he is always there
Even if she runs away
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel good enough.
She was running
And she halted 'cause there was
There was a stranger standing there quietly,
A stranger who asked a question that froze
Her world momentarily,
A stranger who asked the question,
"Why do you run?"
And she was
Frozen
For just a second,
But she said "to break the mirror.
To step on all the people that made me feel."
Then she kept running.
27 June 2010
Lucky number seven
Seven dollar dinner.
Seven hours in the sun.
Seven weeks left until you come home.
Seven months of blogging as of today.
Strange how time goes by, isn't it?
I've been redundant lately. My apologies.
Yesterday as I stared out the window
I noticed the shadow
Stayed still,
Stagnant,
While everything else flew by.
Trees, insignificant signs, broken
Down cars.
Choose to slow it down
If you will
Unless you're eager to get
To where you want to be.
The scene changes
The location changes
But it is always a destination.
Seven hours in the sun.
Seven weeks left until you come home.
Seven months of blogging as of today.
Strange how time goes by, isn't it?
I've been redundant lately. My apologies.
Yesterday as I stared out the window
I noticed the shadow
Stayed still,
Stagnant,
While everything else flew by.
Trees, insignificant signs, broken
Down cars.
Choose to slow it down
If you will
Unless you're eager to get
To where you want to be.
The scene changes
The location changes
But it is always a destination.
26 June 2010
25 June 2010
Learning
I'm learning to approach this.
I'm learning to process this.
I'm learning to accept this.
I'm learning to live with this.
I'm learning to go along with this.
I'm learning to have fun with this.
I'm learning to enjoy this.
I'm learning to process this.
I'm learning to accept this.
I'm learning to live with this.
I'm learning to go along with this.
I'm learning to have fun with this.
I'm learning to enjoy this.
23 June 2010
This too shall pass
(Persian:این نیز بگذرد, een niz bogzarad, Hebrew: גם זה יעבור, gam zeh yaavor, Turkish: Bu da geçer)
A proverb, indicating that all material conditions, positive or negative, are temporary. The phrase seems to have originated in the writings of the medieval Persian Sufi poets, and is often attached to a fable of a great king who is humbled by the simple words. Some versions of the fable, beginning with that of Attar of Nishapur, add the detail that the phrase is inscribed on a ring, which therefore has the ability to make the happy man sad and the sad man happy.
22 June 2010
Continued
Things work out one way or the other; you win or you lose.
And you can't win all the time, you just have to face it.
So here's the poem I promised you:
Since you parked on that corner,
No one has dared
Touch that spot.
It was where you held my hand,
And time seemed to
Stop
While the rain continued
To fall.
3 A.M., and the thunderstorms
Start, not unlike
The night you dropped me off,
Echoing
Echoing
Echoing
The threatening raindrops.
On my bed that sweater
Patiently waited, listened to the old clock's tales.
The article of clothing
Was once a
New gift,
But its fibers
No longer hold your smell,
Instead contain tears
Drying from my tired face
Only to be replenished soon after.
You say
"Don't cry my girl,
I'll be home soon."
But it all seems to be
A misunderstanding.
Your absence,
Their absence,
My absence.
Just because the road looks long doesn't mean there's not an end.
And you can't win all the time, you just have to face it.
So here's the poem I promised you:
Since you parked on that corner,
No one has dared
Touch that spot.
It was where you held my hand,
And time seemed to
Stop
While the rain continued
To fall.
3 A.M., and the thunderstorms
Start, not unlike
The night you dropped me off,
Echoing
Echoing
Echoing
The threatening raindrops.
On my bed that sweater
Patiently waited, listened to the old clock's tales.
The article of clothing
Was once a
New gift,
But its fibers
No longer hold your smell,
Instead contain tears
Drying from my tired face
Only to be replenished soon after.
You say
"Don't cry my girl,
I'll be home soon."
But it all seems to be
A misunderstanding.
Your absence,
Their absence,
My absence.
Just because the road looks long doesn't mean there's not an end.
Tuesday Tellings, week 16
Short but sweet this week. That's what you get. Take it or leave it.
I guess my secret is this; I'm vulnerable. Completely vulnerable.
You can build your walls up and up and up...
but eventually they'll be too tall and fall apart.
Absence
That's what today was about.
I knew I had a gut feeling of some sort.
But it's not a definite, noticeable absence. It's sudden, incomprehensible absence.
I started to write, but I just couldn't finish.
I'll post it tomorrow, I promise.
20 June 2010
Eight weeks
Blah. I'm stuck. I need to get out of this city for a while.
Today I wrote about lies.
Deceit, twisted tales
Spin around your head,
A masterfully crafted story
Finds its way into belief,
Cleverly disguised as truth.
One cannot fathom the manipulation
Until faced with both sides,
An undeniable contrast.
You spit out bullshit, you know that?
Your words almost come out laughing
At their own incredulity,
And by now your silence is comforting.
Today I wrote about lies.
Deceit, twisted tales
Spin around your head,
A masterfully crafted story
Finds its way into belief,
Cleverly disguised as truth.
One cannot fathom the manipulation
Until faced with both sides,
An undeniable contrast.
You spit out bullshit, you know that?
Your words almost come out laughing
At their own incredulity,
And by now your silence is comforting.
19 June 2010
One
Stumbling into the shower,
I struggle with the knob,
Icy cold water pressing on my skin.
A wave of nausea rushes through my stomach
As the water races down my temples,
Drips over my brow,
And slices vertical lines on my cheeks -
The water blends with my tears,
Uncontrollably falling at the same speed.
Dizziness fills my head,
Vision blurring while tears continue to fall,
Drowning in the fresh steam.
We can't rewind now,
Although the dusty speakers,
Seemingly dormant on the counter,
Begin to play music.
Skipping, a scratched CD,
Spitting out the same words again and again
Until my tears grow tired,
Sick of falling and wanting to rest and forget.
So the speakers are unplugged,
But the dust remains.
I struggle with the knob,
Icy cold water pressing on my skin.
A wave of nausea rushes through my stomach
As the water races down my temples,
Drips over my brow,
And slices vertical lines on my cheeks -
The water blends with my tears,
Uncontrollably falling at the same speed.
Dizziness fills my head,
Vision blurring while tears continue to fall,
Drowning in the fresh steam.
We can't rewind now,
Although the dusty speakers,
Seemingly dormant on the counter,
Begin to play music.
Skipping, a scratched CD,
Spitting out the same words again and again
Until my tears grow tired,
Sick of falling and wanting to rest and forget.
So the speakers are unplugged,
But the dust remains.
I like water.
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