February 2010
28 posts
eng 340: advanced creative writing, poetry.
written while sitting in on the class that changed my life last semester:
these sorts of days help me. heidi asked me to come, so i said “just for a while” and now here i am, in a class full of students who want nothing more than to become better writers. judgement, yes, is inevitable, because we’re all still just children. but the writing of a poem is so, personal, so...
January 2010
35 posts
An excerpt from Beati Quorum Remissae
composed by Zachary Wadsworth:
While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, because of my groaning all day long. For your hand was heavy upon me, day and night; my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” Then you forgave me, the guilt of my sin.
You are my hiding place; you preserve me from trouble, you surround me...
i wrote my first poem in months today. i don’t know if it’s of any consequence, but at least it’s words on a page. and that’s something.
selfish.
when i have days like today, i want to rewind 8 years and never move to colorado. i want to pack everything i own in a duffle bag, get on a plane tonight, and literally leave these mountains in the dust. fly to new orleans and start over. never come back. be someone else, someone i was, someone i was supposed to be.
nothing is the same here. but everything is.
cut loose.
People think she's a hellraiser.
Is she?
I think she's been kissed a lot.
recital research.
translated from the italian.
No, non me guardate
Do not look at me with those glowing eyes so that I hardly know from what fire I burn, so that I have no longer any escape, so longer any peace.
Is it true that you were born in May when the roses bloomed: when from the sun you stole a single ray of light; when every other good descended upon you. Is it true that you have a game where every other...
kamikaze
if i’m being honest, i don’t know a damned thing.
and poetry is elusive. yesterday, today, and tomorrow,
there is no more time.
me, i'm a trapeze artist.
i’m watching i’m not there for the first time ever and loving every minute of it. i don’t know why it took me so long to see this.
my favorite thing about bob dylan is that he spans every generation. everything he wrote then, applies to our lives now, and i love that. his songs peel back the blinders i didn’t know i was wearing, just in time to see the midday sunshine...
(781): Maybe bedazzle some baby seals? Make them...
(via flickflickflicker)
AAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH! hahahahahaha!!! hahahah…
whew.
i often repeat myself and the second time’s a lie.
i love you i love you
you see what i mean, i don’t but i do
“by the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes, says it’s funny how the night...”
a chuisle
i started every night in ireland the same: my “going out” playlist. deadmau5, daft punk, 3oh!3, and some gangsta rap swiped from a friend of mine in nola would blare through our apartment. i’d whip out my black eyeliner and dance around my room until shelley yelled at me from across the hall, “shannon! do these boots even MATCH this coat?!” dean would grumble as he...
too many words
it’s a curious, curious thing, that Time. it finds itself meandering in and out of my life, like a fickle ghost, screen door slamming in its wake. it passes in jerks and lulls. yesterday it says to me “hi! how are you!? it’s been so long!”
years of my life feel like only minutes, hours. tonight i find myself remembering things i haven’t thought of, thinks i...
Write one leaf about kissing at the airport.
(via writeoneleaf)
he only brought me to the airport once. my transatlantic flight was delayed, so were his lips: hesitant, new, slow.
the age of innocence
"I thought you were much changed."
"I was, until I saw you again."
there’s so many ways to act and there’s so many shades of black
everything
the gingerbread house population is back to it’s original three. i’m not sure how i feel about that, yet. i think, at least for me, the gingerbread house will always be mine. the gingerbread house is old, very old, with a new coat of paint. the previous owners gutted it and refurnished it with brand new appliances before my parents bought it. when i got home from cork, i lived here for...
i met a woman, she had a mouth like yours, she...
Restless
damagedyouth:
rest⋅less –adjective 1. characterized by or showing inability to remain at rest: a restless mood. 2. unquiet or uneasy, as a person, the mind, or the heart. 3. never at rest; perpetually agitated or in motion: the restless sea. 4. without rest; without restful sleep: a restless night.
uh, what?
an advert on the side of my screen just said “What Do YOU Smell Like To Edward Cullen!? FIND OUT NOW” …
um… disturbing on so many levels. something is so horribly wrong with this generation.
i resolve to
1) wear more dresses. 2) work out. 3) learn to play the piano. 4) stress out less. 5) say less. 6) write more.
i traced the words, i felt my fingers fall for it.
i’m avoiding you.
yes, i am. avoiding all of you in this mess of websites, chat rooms, and wires. i’m also avoiding my written journal. and my poetry. and my faith. and my music. and my friends. what can i say? i live my life under a banner of avoidance. i avoid. i’m an avoider.
now, it’s not your fault that i’m avoiding you, so don’t take it personally....
