I feel I must suggest;
spell my name with an 'x'
it amps up the appeal of my sex-
new and different, demands respect
demands, commands,
so pushy, and damn
walk with con-fi-dance,
and I ain't got a man.
no, I don't I need one
so I can have fun
'cause with all the drama,
you know I am done
and when it's with men,
that's all that you get, hun
don't be fooled by my tools-
words I press together
in ways you ain't heard
Absurd? I concur
And yet I protest
Because I put in my best
It's this poetry thing
that gets stuff off my chest
Write it out, I say "yes!"
sigh with relief
to get out my piece
so I can kick back, release
so if I die tomorrow
I can rest in peace
knowing words that I'd leave
would give life after me-
not arrogance, memory,
(tying in ideas, you see)
so my diction has friction,
so I don't ask for permission
to share my verbose vision
to get out of the prison
and get close to my God,
I'd like to believe,
but it's hard
he's got no business card
so I grip to the shards
of truth in the stars
on mercury and mars
but down here, it's fast cars
how to get into the bars
and roll my tongue on the r's.
I can change up the scheme,
shock you with the next
open up to my dreams
or fufill a request
work on a theme,
an ending you don't expect.
I won't keep it clean,
so please spell it with an 'x'.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
jai ho!
nebulas!
I was trying to do these earlier
but I realized that they only show up as text while I type, and they turn into pictures once its posted
either way, nebulas are the coolest, and I love to look them up
on a totally unrelated note, I've been thinking very seriously about studying abroad, as has my room mate lindsey
I want to go to India. The program I'd be doing would be taking me to hyderbad at the university of hyderabad
only 2000 students, in a city of 8 million or so!
it's where the n. idian and s. indian culture meet
lots of cool cool stuff, including the largest film industry in the world
When it comes time to actually go, I'll post more. It's a long way off but I couldn't be more excited
I was trying to do these earlier
but I realized that they only show up as text while I type, and they turn into pictures once its posted
either way, nebulas are the coolest, and I love to look them up
on a totally unrelated note, I've been thinking very seriously about studying abroad, as has my room mate lindsey
I want to go to India. The program I'd be doing would be taking me to hyderbad at the university of hyderabad
only 2000 students, in a city of 8 million or so!
it's where the n. idian and s. indian culture meet
lots of cool cool stuff, including the largest film industry in the world
When it comes time to actually go, I'll post more. It's a long way off but I couldn't be more excited
Friday, September 25, 2009
ch-ch-changes
tried to put up pictures of nebulas, but it didn't work. I'll put up some cool pictures or some writing soon, but blogger is being pooty right now.
switched up the layout colors and the title.
I feel like I need to make this cooler
I should write more.
My english teacher is very enthusiastic about my next project, which makes me feel good.
gotta go to class, I promise next post will be cooler and invlove pictures or something truly creative
switched up the layout colors and the title.
I feel like I need to make this cooler
I should write more.
My english teacher is very enthusiastic about my next project, which makes me feel good.
gotta go to class, I promise next post will be cooler and invlove pictures or something truly creative
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
let's go girl, this ship is sinking
Will probs go back and edit this, but it's my first short story I've written in awhile, so I wanted to go ahead post it.
"How'd you end up with that tattoo? He questioned, tracing his fingers around the bottle of Cheerwine colorfully imbedded in her shoulder. He loved her soft pale skin; it was the perfect canvas for ink.
“I gave an artist money, and he tattooed me, same as everyone else.” She replied simply. He laughed.
“What I mean is, why a bottle of Cheerwine?”
“Why not?” She smiled and cocked her head, biting into a peach. Juice ran down the sides of her mouth.
“Did you get it as a memory from home? Your own tiny symbol of North Carolina pride in the big city?” He sat up, looking at her from across the bed.
“Something like that, yeah.” She bit in again; a little too close to her hand and sent peach juice sliding down her forearm. She licked it up from her elbow to her wrist, maintaining eye contact. He shuddered and took a deep breath.
“You are so beautiful. You know that?” He crawled over and kissed his way up her arm, the same trail her tongue had taken. It was still sticky, and he could feel the peach burning his lips, as he was slightly allergic. This time, it didn’t bother him. She laid down, her head in his lap.
“You’ve been telling me that since high school, but thank you. I get told things by men all the time, a genuine ‘beautiful’ is refreshing.” There was a pause. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, nuzzling his way to her ear.
“Please quit your job.” He whispered, pleadingly. She sat up slowly, pushing her auburn hair back and sighing.
“You know I won’t.” She kissed his mouth, and continued working her way from cheek to ear.
“Then why aren’t you charging me for it, huh?” He asked briskly, sliding his head away from her lips. “I don’t get it.” She sat back against the pillows.
“Chefs still cook on their own time. Artists create draw and sculpt for fun. It’s my trade, my art. Some have even said my calling.” He digested the words uneasily before he spoke again. It showed on his face.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why me?” In his head, he couldn’t fathom why a woman so beautiful who charged hundreds by the hour let a man as plain looking as him got special treatment. He looked across at big green doe eyes that were calculating an answer. She climbed across the strew comforter and pillow, sat on her knees and leaned right in his face.
“Because it was always you. When I wasn’t cool, hated myself, was spotted with acne, or was a raging bitch to everyone, you still did everything you could to try and spend time with me. Once I started working up here, I realized that I wasn’t going to be tending to the types of guys who genuinely make efforts to stay in touch with their high school crush. The men I work with have intense disdain for that sort of unrequited love.”
“Is it still unrequited?” He whispered, unable to maintain eye contact. She kissed his eyelids.
“Yes and no. It’s love…but not quite.” He looked up at the ceiling in a way that made her think he was looking for an answer.
“I can’t understand. I can have you clawing at me and screaming my name, but I- you don’t…” Tears welled up in his eyes before he could finish. She lifted his chin up with her forefinger and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Understand. It was fantastic. It always has been between you and me. I mean it. You’re wonderful, and I care deeply about you. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
“Then marry me.” He nearly demanded, with full eye contact. Neither spoke for a moment. “Marry me, quit your job. We’ll go to Copenhagen. Or Kingston. Cairo or Buenos Aires. Anywhere, we could go back home, even, to North Carolina. Say yes, Marilyn Jane Westford. Say yes.”
“You already know the answer.” Her eyes were apologetic as she squeezed his hand. She got off the bed, looking around for her clothes. He watched her slide into last night’s skirt and top, stuffing the underwear in her small clutch. The lace was poking out of one corner, despite her efforts.
“I don’t understand you. I never will.” He watched her struggle back into her heels from last night.
“You don’t have to.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes begged as she walked toward the door, plastic key card in hand. She turned her head around to look at him before she left.
“You told me once that I was like Cheerwine with the way I got everyone drunk off happiness. That made me think, because soda is terrible for you. It looks sweet, tastes great, but it’s all camouflage for the poison. I got the tattoo as a warning label. Your analogies were always in depth and dead on. I’m no exception.”
"How'd you end up with that tattoo? He questioned, tracing his fingers around the bottle of Cheerwine colorfully imbedded in her shoulder. He loved her soft pale skin; it was the perfect canvas for ink.
“I gave an artist money, and he tattooed me, same as everyone else.” She replied simply. He laughed.
“What I mean is, why a bottle of Cheerwine?”
“Why not?” She smiled and cocked her head, biting into a peach. Juice ran down the sides of her mouth.
“Did you get it as a memory from home? Your own tiny symbol of North Carolina pride in the big city?” He sat up, looking at her from across the bed.
“Something like that, yeah.” She bit in again; a little too close to her hand and sent peach juice sliding down her forearm. She licked it up from her elbow to her wrist, maintaining eye contact. He shuddered and took a deep breath.
“You are so beautiful. You know that?” He crawled over and kissed his way up her arm, the same trail her tongue had taken. It was still sticky, and he could feel the peach burning his lips, as he was slightly allergic. This time, it didn’t bother him. She laid down, her head in his lap.
“You’ve been telling me that since high school, but thank you. I get told things by men all the time, a genuine ‘beautiful’ is refreshing.” There was a pause. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, nuzzling his way to her ear.
“Please quit your job.” He whispered, pleadingly. She sat up slowly, pushing her auburn hair back and sighing.
“You know I won’t.” She kissed his mouth, and continued working her way from cheek to ear.
“Then why aren’t you charging me for it, huh?” He asked briskly, sliding his head away from her lips. “I don’t get it.” She sat back against the pillows.
“Chefs still cook on their own time. Artists create draw and sculpt for fun. It’s my trade, my art. Some have even said my calling.” He digested the words uneasily before he spoke again. It showed on his face.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why me?” In his head, he couldn’t fathom why a woman so beautiful who charged hundreds by the hour let a man as plain looking as him got special treatment. He looked across at big green doe eyes that were calculating an answer. She climbed across the strew comforter and pillow, sat on her knees and leaned right in his face.
“Because it was always you. When I wasn’t cool, hated myself, was spotted with acne, or was a raging bitch to everyone, you still did everything you could to try and spend time with me. Once I started working up here, I realized that I wasn’t going to be tending to the types of guys who genuinely make efforts to stay in touch with their high school crush. The men I work with have intense disdain for that sort of unrequited love.”
“Is it still unrequited?” He whispered, unable to maintain eye contact. She kissed his eyelids.
“Yes and no. It’s love…but not quite.” He looked up at the ceiling in a way that made her think he was looking for an answer.
“I can’t understand. I can have you clawing at me and screaming my name, but I- you don’t…” Tears welled up in his eyes before he could finish. She lifted his chin up with her forefinger and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Understand. It was fantastic. It always has been between you and me. I mean it. You’re wonderful, and I care deeply about you. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
“Then marry me.” He nearly demanded, with full eye contact. Neither spoke for a moment. “Marry me, quit your job. We’ll go to Copenhagen. Or Kingston. Cairo or Buenos Aires. Anywhere, we could go back home, even, to North Carolina. Say yes, Marilyn Jane Westford. Say yes.”
“You already know the answer.” Her eyes were apologetic as she squeezed his hand. She got off the bed, looking around for her clothes. He watched her slide into last night’s skirt and top, stuffing the underwear in her small clutch. The lace was poking out of one corner, despite her efforts.
“I don’t understand you. I never will.” He watched her struggle back into her heels from last night.
“You don’t have to.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes begged as she walked toward the door, plastic key card in hand. She turned her head around to look at him before she left.
“You told me once that I was like Cheerwine with the way I got everyone drunk off happiness. That made me think, because soda is terrible for you. It looks sweet, tastes great, but it’s all camouflage for the poison. I got the tattoo as a warning label. Your analogies were always in depth and dead on. I’m no exception.”
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
she said she loved me, won't leave me, won't ever let me go
"I love college! Ayyy!" Okay, I know that song is dumb, but that phrase does hold up. Found lots of old pictures and new ones. They remind me of good good times.
Jules, Me, Megs. Two of my lovliest ladies!
some DSA kids all decked out
emilie as Mrs. Norris
Tristan is so Sirius
Melonius and Leah B as house elves!
Amy, Maddy and I
BIG crowd
I think Jules took some of these
Me as Hermione
FAIRY
Some serious crowdage
Hail, Hail, the gang's all here!
a taste of SUUSI...the delicious doughnuts that K and I bought for the road trip. I could go for some right now...
Nostalgia, nostalgia. Classes are going well over here. I'm kicking ass so far, but I need to kick my own ass so I don't slip up. Spending lots of time with lovely people. Here are some of them:
The fabulous Anna Kennis, my room mate and a non-facebooker. She brought astrology books that are now my life.
Me in my brant-new 80s dress.
Lovely Lil' Lindsey May!
Maria and her purple daisy dukes (I know, I'm fucking jealous, too)
Linds, Taylor, Me Anna
Super Squad?
I think YES!
Things are awesome. It's easy to say that in a beautiful city surrounded by beautiful people. I better keep it real though and watch myself. I could end up becoming one of those
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