Archive for February, 2008

Rose Petals and Ripples

Posted: February 6, 2008 by porter08 in Aaron

 Sorry about the length of this entry, but please bear with me on this one…I believe it is well worth the thought. 

 

“Someone once compared writing a poem and hoping it will change the world to dropping rose petals down a deep well, waiting to hear the splash.” I can remember living in Florida, when in the evening at sunset, there was a certain time when for a short session, the breeze would stop and there would be absolute calm and silence. The lake in my back yard would become like a mirror, and would seem like the sky and the waters were one. I remember picking up one stone and throwing it as far as I could into the lake. I remember hearing that gentle splash, and watching the ripples radiate as far as one could see in all directions. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, the impact that one person could make in this world is like this pebble in the lake.”  The words that someone could say or write can cause ripples. Even just saying hello to someone could send shockwaves through their lives and make all the difference in their world, and in turn; our world. Contemplate the fact that these ripples never stay still, these waves are always on the move, spreading further and further out. Believe it or not, we all make ripples in our life time. We all make a difference to someone we come in contact with. Some good…and some bad, but I digress. Just remember that these ripples are always on the move, constantly moving out, and the ripples we make here will further effect someone else in the future. So be careful of the stones you throw. This leads me to my next thought. The author states “Someone once compared writing a poem and hoping it will change the world to dropping rose petals down a deep well, waiting for the splash.” Notice that the author never says that it doesn’t make a splash! In my mind, I see this as a positive thing. Though we may wait an entire lifetime to hear and see the splash, it may not happen. Our words and deeds may get lost in that deep descent through time, but eventually, it will hit it’s target…and cause the splash. Though we may not be around to witness it, we need to be careful…because inevitably… future generations will.

My work is never finished…

Posted: February 6, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

My work is never finished. I write until no more words come to mind. I scribble numbers for hours on end, but still my work is never finished. My thoughts still race. My mind still aches. My dreams spill out into the night because there’s no more empty space inside my head. I write volumes of words that go nowhere. I have pages of numbers that mean nothing except to me. But still my work is never finished. My thoughts are ever busy and my mind is in a constant state of motion. Sleep? Not for me. My mind just gains momentum is the hours i lay tossing and turning, thinking of new formulas, equations and designs of things i know are impossible but endeavors i will enbark upon tomorrow. My words fade on old paper. My ideas are lost but for my memory. But still my work is never finished, and, in truth, I hope it never is. I hope that my mind keeps creating and my thoughts keep racing and my dreams shoot ever-higher. I hope my work is never finished.

Once in a Lifetime…

Posted: February 5, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

Adolescence.

It’s a time of fun, learning, and new experiences.

A time of joy, laughter, and hanging out with friends.

It’s a time where you’re learning to make it on your own.

Plan for your future ahead.

And tie close bonds with your family and friends.

So you’ll know someone’s always got your back.

It’s a time of stress, work, and little sleep.

A time of homework, chores, and jam-packed weekends.

Making the most of your free time.

And savoring the feeling of home.

Because soon, sooner than you think.

You’ll be out on your own.

But don’t let that scare you.

Your relatives and loved ones are only a phone call away.

And they’ll be waiting for your return someday.

Live it up, when you get the chance.

Don’t take it for granted.

Because it only comes.

Once in a lifetime.

Oil and Blood

Posted: February 5, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

You were there

On your bike,

Curiously,

Watching your father work

Under the hood

Of a dark-blue mini-van.

You watched him wipe

                Sweat from his brow.

You watched him smear

                Oil on his face.

You gasped when

You saw the wrench slip.

A large cut opened

On his hand.

You felt proud when

He didn’t even flinch,

And he wiped the blood away

                With an old, dirty rag

From his back pocket.

                Starry-eyed,

You were amazed

By his strength and determination.

And so

You continued to watch,

And he

Continued to work.

Now,

Here you are

A young adult

And you work

Carrying bricks for your mother

So she can place them around the flowers.

And you trip

Landing flat on your belly

Scuffing your palms

And cutting your knee.

You don’t flinch

You wipe the blood away

And rise again.

                You feel him

In your muscles

                In your bones

Giving you the strength to go on.

Now,

You’re working together

And it shall continue that way,

Forever

Recipe for Heartache

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

Ingredients:
One boy with a wandering eye
One girl with the softest heart
One galaxy full of opposition
Several nights spent alone
Five years of one-sided love

Directions:
Place one boy with a wandering eye in a sauce pan with one girl with the softest heart
Turn up heat until steaming
Quickly pour in one galaxy of opposition until boy and girl begin to part
Add in several nights spent alone
Simmer until girl begins to crumble
Mix in five years of one-sided love and let stand until cold

6:30 p.m.

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

Sunset is
A swing
Alone

The hills are ablaze with autumn orange
The crisp scent of fresh leaves and apples is carried on a chilly breeze
I take in the sweet air as i glide back and forth
The light from the setting sun is gentle and warm on my face
All is calm within me and without
The one time, the one place I am truly at ease

An ant crawls along the white swing’s back
My dog stirs silently in reverence to the beauty
Golden rays dance upon freshly fallen leaves
Brushstroke clouds like rosy delight drift sluggishly by

October has arrived with the gift of autumn sunsets
My favorite place to be.

I am from

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

I am from grandparents who live to protect
from fast cars and starry summer nights
from love in October and heartbreak in May

I am from three houses with only one home
from estranged parents and new ones who love
from a crazy younger brother I’d give my life for
from late nights awake thinking in circles

I am from fried chicken on Sunday afternoons
and Grandfather’s comforting mashed potatoes
from stubborn old men and God-loving old women
from ups and downs and all-arounds
from huge green recliners and teddy bears galore

I am from this message will self-destruct
from Porkchop and Patty Mayonaise
from The Sandlot and ruby red slippers
from Saturday morning carttons with my dad

I am from red hair and green eyes
from drinking songs and intoxicated tales
from the pub to the spuds
from emerald hills of home

I am from family, so big and bright

Valentine…

Posted: February 5, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

Valentine

Spilled on my desk

Are colors of red, pink, and violet.

A pencil skates across the heart-shaped card.

“Roses are red…

Violets are blue…”

Too cliché for what I feel for  you.

“Be my Valentine?”

Too simple, too short.

There’s not enough emotion.

My mind races as I scramble for words.

My eyes dart back and forth

                From the card

                                To my pencil.

Desperate for something to say.

Love is a funny thing.

A real mystery to me.

I cannot express myself enough

Through just words alone.

                Can I?

I scribble down one thing.

Glad to have thought of something at last.

                It’s not too much.

                                Nor too little.

It’s just enough.

As I raise the card for one last view.

All that’s wrote is

I love you…

To the Dandelion that Nobody Wants

Posted: February 5, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

You don’t want to be seen as what you aren’t. That’s admirable in so many ways. You want your radiance to be felt. Your beauty comes maybe from your simplicity. The last stanza is the most beautiful: “Watch these words become my wings/And then/Watch me fly.” Your message is hopeful. Dreams, when dreamed often and vivid enough, can become reality, even for the “dandelion that nobody wants.” Dandelion, you make me feel like anything I aspire to be is tangible, right there, ripe for the picking…just like it was for you.

I don’t think it’s true that anybody really is the dandelion that nobody wants. There’s doubtlessly somebody out there, whether you know it or not, that does want and love you because you are a special, unique individual, whether you’re a person or a dandelion. You perservere through the storm and come out standing strong. Your breaking point is elastic– another thing I admire. I see a lot of good qualities that you’re overlooking that I wouldn’t mind stealing from you.

Dandelion, you may not be a rose, a lion or a golden-haired girl, but I’m sure that somebody would pick you regardless. You have no thorns, no sharp teeth, and no wavering affections. You love life. Life is your passion. Perhaps it’s your love of life that lets your dreams take flight.

Afterthoughts

Posted: February 5, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

I wrote this when I was involved in a very heated, long, drawn-out battle with a friend. We utterly despised each other for two months, and the entire process was really draining. This, however, is the product of the desire to shed all that unnecessary resentment and make peace with him and with myself.

I hated seeing you go, I hated watching you change, I hated being left behind
Until I realized that I was not the one in neutral
Until I realized that I was the one growing
moving
branching out
touching others’ lives
as I wanted my life to be touched
treasured
I looked back once
Only once
Only because I could no longer stand to see you
neglecting to uproot yourself
Too needy to make it on your own,
Too tired to turn your face to the light

(Please, God
let me have made the right decision
in running
as fast as I
possibly could)

The Brick Wall Aria

Posted: February 5, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

so you took a look outside yourself for once

and assessed the damage

you attempted to caulk up the holes and

barricade yourself further in

you walked through the doorframes of a somewhere,

far away,

and braved the open, empty spaced that you weren’t meant to see

you tried, you tried, you tried

so hard

to ignore

the whistling wind

and you were determined to find logic behind enemy lines—

in heretics’ houses

but there was no truth to be stumbled upon

you were quite content pretending that nothing had ever happened in the slightest

as you happily, miserably began

to sleepwalk back

back

into a place you’d never missed

 

(and you want

more than anything in the world

to know that the stinging stops—

the singing stops—)

Roller Skating: To-Do List

Posted: February 4, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia
Tags: ,

Strap on skates

Place protective gear

Skate through the house

Get a can of Coke

            To drink while I’m out

Jump off outdoor steps

            Land safely on the ground

Skate across gravel

Dodge a car coming down the road

Skate up the hill

            And back down again.

This time on one foot

Stumble over rock

            One bloody elbow

Wash wound with soap

            And warm water.

Place bandage

Go back out again

Swivel and evade holes in road

Jump over stray sticks

Crouch down low

            To gain speed

Then round off at the last minute

            Just about fell into the creek

Have fun all day

            Not a care in the world

 Virginia, when you come in, don’t forget:

Do your homework

Feed the fish

Take a shower

Go to bed

My Room 12:00 AM

Posted: February 4, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia
Tags: ,

I just finished typing my Senior Project research paper, and I’m feeling great. It didn’t take me nearly as long as I thought it would. Actually, it was fairly easy. Anyway, I wrote this poem earlier in the year, and it is one of my favorites. I thought I’d share it. And yes, I do have wind chimes in my room. They are hanging from the ceiling. 

My Room: 12:00 A.M.

Midnight is

Black cat

A bed

A teddy bear

Red and fluffy

Sits in the corner

Wind chimes

Enchanting to the ears

A mirror

Silver

Reflecting the shadows

            Outside

            Dewey grass

            A solitary cricket

And in

On a rainy spring night

You

Watching over me

Feeling my emotions

Peering into my soul

The velvet rose

That ascends up the lattice

The shadowed dark

Consuming all in its wake

Research Paper:To-Do List

Posted: February 4, 2008 by lcbelcher in Lindsey

Take notes

Get sources

Finish the title page

Do outline

Use citation machine to finish the bibliograph

Use notes to type essay

Insert citations into essay

Double check spelling and grammer

Save, print, turn in

Lindsey:

Write an ironic ending to this to-do

These Places I’m From

Posted: February 4, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

I’m from Roxie Hart and Tracy Turnblad

       from Mark and Roger not paying their Rent

       from singing along in the dead of night to pass the ticking time.

I’m from cracked concrete alleyways that snake,

 and blasts from an overlooking mine that shake foundations mercilessly.

I’m from stretching hospital corridors and stark fluorescent lights.

I’m from the clinical smell of my grandmother’s life

and her roommate yelling for help

       she didn’t need

and help that never came.

I’m from sporadic trips to the farm,

       from War Ridge and Monroe County.

I’m from the Maddy reunion,

   hiding out in the gazebo,

   photographing the lake and not missing a solitary angle.

 I’m from wasting time and dragging my feet,

        from musing and thinking and hoping,

 and from chaotic bursts of starry-eyed inspiration.

I’m from peculiar fever dreams

       from illusions and illuminations,

       from wishing to be at the sea and the city at the exact same time.

The family tree was cut down, severed a long time ago—

   a sapling peeks shyly,

                  barely brave enough to come from under its cover of translucent leaves.