Archive for March, 2008

At the Cross Roads

Posted: March 24, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

 This poem is dedicated to a friend of mine that I had a long time ago. I haven’t seen him in years.

I lost you yesterday

too wound up in the cordless receiver

to come out to play.

“I’m getting older.” You’d say.

You didn’t have to tell me that;

I already knew

with you being 5’6”

and me

only 4’2”.

We usually played pretend

around this time of day

followed by “jump off the swings”

before a sandwich and some Kool-Aide.

We’d catch bees and wasps

and shake them up in the jars

before throwing off the lid

and running like mad across the yard.

We used to ride bikes

and explore in the jungle behind your house.

We’d climb to the top of a torn-up, old rope

and swing across a row of picnic tables.

But now,you’re watching television

and have no more time for me.

You’re on the phone

with your new girlfriend

while I sit alone

outside

in the one hundred degree weather

waiting for you to come out to play,

sitting in our favorite spot

atop a tall rock

with moss and the word “Starz” written across it.

I wait

with crackers and two glasses of untouched lemonade. 

My time with you grew shorter

And soon you moved away.

We still meet in the cross road

swith a nod of the head and a “Hey,”

but we aren’t as close as we used to be, as we were

back in the day.

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Respect

Posted: March 24, 2008 by lcbelcher in Lindsey

You can be extravagant and excellent

Magnificent and beautiful 

You can be obedient and loyal

Peaceful and polite 

But you are not

and can you be a   

 Sadistic

Controversial

Non-conforming

Debating

Liberal 

It all ends in the kill

because you cannot be

what you want to be

and still be their “baby” 

However, if you choose to be

what you cannot be

you will be respected

Cracks in the Floodwall

Posted: March 24, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

Deflecting low blows, she is a breathing barricade—iron and steel, ever holding up in the face of adversity. Why doesn’t she falter? Because she can’t. Words fall on her, sink in like leaden weights determined to extinguish her spirit. She has many moments of weakness. She’s indecisive. She thinks back, ponders past decisions. Ponders the path she’s currently on. Are her strides sure enough to carry her where she wants to go? Oh, but she doesn’t run, she hides. Her fortress keeps her safe, keeps her distant. She always attempts to find a silver lining, but sometimes it’s so hard to see a glint in the endless grey in that metallic-tasting life she leads atop the tower. Her eyes are the only windows to the world she cares to peer out of. Every time a sympathetic soul offers a ladder for her to climb down, she grasps the handrails, desiring nothing more than to descend…but she ultimately denies the aid she so craves, every single time. The ladder goes clattering back to the earth in a cloud of dust and apologies. You see, she has to preserve her life the way it is, as cold and withdrawn as it may seem, because the only thing that feels right in her silent, clinical, private life…is wrong.

I love you more

Posted: March 24, 2008 by lcbelcher in Lindsey

Je t’aime

You say it

I sigh

My heart quivers more 

Je t’aime

You show it

I weep

My soul shines more brightly than before 

Je t’aime

You repeat it as

You turn away from me 

Maybe

Just maybe

I should have said

Je t’aime plus

“The air is sharp, steel sharp”

Posted: March 24, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

“The air is sharp, steel sharp”
The teeth of the oxygen are biting hard and sticking fast
Try as I might, I can’t wrench myself
     from the heresy of the blueblack wind
The call to return home echoes in the valley before falling on deaf ears
I’m carving
clawing
creating my own path
Neglecting the frozen footsteps with everything in me
Tonight, I reach my destination–
Tonight, I taste freedom–
Tonight, I bury the past in favor of a warmer future

Ramblings of my life.

Posted: March 10, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

I was born on William Shakespeare’s birthday; friends tell me his skills flow in my veins. I love sour gummy worms. On the weekends, I love to stay up until 6 a.m. on the computer. My favorite video game is still Pokemon, and I’ve been playing it since I was eight. Cookie dough is one of my favorite snacks- why should we not eat it? My dad taught me the joy of pranking when I was young, and my first prank involved an empty gum wrapper and some unsuspecting victims. I am a procrastinator. I have been drawing since I was first able to hold a pencil. I loved toads a little too much when I was younger, and I’d carry them around until they died. I can taste hot peanut butter cookies when I think of Grandpa Kimler. I couldn’t go to my dad’s funeral because I was in so much pain from losing him. I have a weird fascination for shiny things, and someday it’s going to get me hurt. I am an artist who dreams. I want to be an artist who helps dreams come true.

Disconnected

Posted: March 10, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

My favorite color used to be blue; now it’s purple. I get caught up in the details and sometimes forget all about the “big picture.” I had trouble leaving my grandmother in the cemetery after the funeral. I am constantly taking pictures to document my ever-changing life. I spent the 4th of July at the beach with my best friend. I still watch cartoons. I wish I had a pretty singing voice. I enjoy feeling like people think they know me and secretly knowing that they have no idea. I adore kids. I used to have a pony and a ground squirrel. I wrote my first poem—“Lonely River”—when I was five years old. I love the smells of Xerox machines and jonquils. My sister once locked me outside in the snow when I was wearing nothing but a bath towel. I could read and write before kindergarten. I only feel truly at home when I’m in New York City. I feel sorry for my mother. I was born after my parents were married for eleven years. I’ve seen three “real” plays, two of them on Broadway. I think that Howl and Sophie have a perfect life together, and I’m jealous: I’ve never been in love. 2005 was the best and worst year of my life. I get nostalgic at wildly inappropriate times. The first time I went to Starbucks, I was instantly hooked. I’m both adaptable and set in my ways.