Sunday, June 20, 2010
I walked to a sign for a silly dare
Dancing and walking, without a care
I knocked on the sign, wondering why
My friends thought it funny, as I started with "Hi"
And so I kept talking, with laughs all around
For laughter was fun, a wonderful sound
I asked the sign questions, like what was it's name
Then suddenly jumped when my responses all came
The sign started speaking! It said it was Fred
A lonely young sign, or so the sign said
The laughter was gone, my friends ran away
I turned and I looked, then heard the sign say
"Will you not stay and talk with me more?
Though you're just one, and once there was four,"
And so I did stay, and talked with the sign
Next to the road, I sat for a time
Thoughtfully there, as the sun dimmed to dark
I thought of the day, and what was the mark?
Just what effect had it all had?
Thinking of this, I began to be sad
No one would care, or think this was true
Who could I tell? Could I even tell you?
Today had been good, completely, all new
Not the first thing to think I'd go through
But maybe that helped in making it good
I think that young Fred was gladly understood
And still I do go to the road with this sign
I talk with young Fred, on days that are fine
Always it's fun, and always I'll smile
I have a friend, to talk all the while.
I was very upset at my friends for having told me that I was writing too much depressed poetry, and I was determined to show them that I could write something that was not depressed. I tried for awhile to think of an idea of something silly, random, and fun that could not in any way be seen as "depressed". The idea of talking to a sign, like a stop sign, had been sitting in my head for about a week, but I could not get myself to pick up a pen and start writing. However, once I had started writing, there was no stopping. It almost felt as if I wasn't writing this poem, that it was writing itself. I was merely the conduit whereby words could be written on the paper. I came up with rhymes that fit, the words kept going, the story unfolding. This poem is one of my favorites ever because it feels so unreal.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Broken shards, broken glass
Pain in life that will not pass
When in life we've fallen down
Who will come to lift our frown?
To lift us from our sorry state?
Such trials which come as if by fate
When we fall and skin our knee
Would you help? Or just stand free?
Would you lift us simply to stand?
A simple thing so high in demand
When we have fallen to the ground
We want help that we hope is found
But often for naught our hopes will be
Throughout all eternity
We do feel forgotten and lost
We have fallen, and now are tossed
Upon waves of stormy sea
Sea of life it seems to be
With all of life so sad and down
Won't you try to lift our frown?
All we ask for you to be
Is just a friend-oh can't you see?
The answer true it's always there
Though you feel all life's not fair
But with a friend you can conquer all!
Even when sometimes you fall
The broken glass within your soul
It will leave, to make you whole
Because true friends will heal your heart
And surely will never from you part
They'll be there to the very end
And when you fall-lift you up again
When I wrote this poem, I was originally frustrated at my friends for the latest argument they were in. They were best friends, and yet, they were fighting. Again. I didn't know what to do about it, and I was very upset about their silly argument. However, as I wrote this poem, I began to feel better about their argument. I felt at peace that the argument would soon be over, and that everything would work out. Somehow, this poem turned from a poem of frustration to a poem about how I knew that I could depend on my friends.
The winds and torrents of miraculous white
Shining bright in the dreary night
Full of fluff and slush, the snow
Marks the winter's pass and go
Rain dripping down from the sky
Marks that spring is coming by
Snow is melting, going away
Grass regrowing, here to stay
Sun is shining, bright in the day
Warm currents surrounding us, we play
Joy that comes when summer's here
We hold to it while warmth is near
Leaves are falling from the tree
Red, and gold, and brown we see
Autumn has come with winds and chills
But with it comes fun and thrills
The cycle repeats with snow and cold
Ending the year as it has of old
For opposites must ever be
So we can enjoy the good, the free
I have mixed feelings about winter. Winter is a beautiful season, yet it is so very cold. It is a season that I have written a lot about, however, because of it's great beauty and splendor. I was thinking about all the seasons as I wrote this poem, yet I felt a particular push to make it a cycle of the different seasons. I especially like the last two lines of the poem, because they hint at more than just the idea of winter as summer's opposite. It refers to more than just a single opposite, it makes me think of all opposition in life.
Standing alone, you feel that you are
Experiences that may take you out far
Away from the world, to making you you
Helping you learn, to learn to be true
True to yourself, true to your life
Standing above trials and strife
Though you may feel that you are alone
Search, and you'll see how you've truly grown
Learn from mistakes, and you will be found
Unique as a person, both feet on the ground
Or even if not, in Heaven we'll see
A child of God, you are, just as we.
I was contemplating a quote, "No man is an island" when I wrote this poem. Originally, I wanted to write about how the quote was wrong. Somehow, the message that was written turned out entirely fifferent than my original intent. Instead, I found myself looking at a perfect message for the upcoming camp theme-Making You You. Just like the poem title ended up being.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Look! There is an elephant!
It's in my living room!
Can you see the elephant?
Maybe you'll see it soon
That elephant is so big!
How can you even breathe?
It takes up so much space!
No air for you, I see
Oh what a silly elephant!
Dancing and playing around
Knocking into everyone
No space that can be found
How can't you see the elephant?
He's bigger every day!
Won't you ever mention him?
He is so loud-hear his bray
How can't you hear that elephant?
He is so loud-I can't hear
A single word you're saying
He's braying in my ear.
Will you not mention my elephant?
He's taking up all the space
I cannot seem to understand
Why the elephant's in this place
Won't you mention the elephant
That's in my living room?
If you'd simply mention him
He'd bray another tune
Maybe if you mention him
He will go away
Even though I'll miss him
I sure won't miss his bray
He might go to another room
To take up all their space
Maybe they might also wonder
Why he's in their place
But you know that elephant
He's in your living room
Identical to my very own
An elephant braying his tune
Don't be afraid to mention
The elephant, 'cause he's there
This one simple elephant
Will stay until you care
My friend Joel would often tell me about his elephant. It's in his living room, well in his entire house actually. It's a very nice elephant, and somehow, the rest of his family doesn't happen to notice that it's there. I would hear random braying noises on occasion when nothing else was being said. It was a good conversation starter, as I could then ask about his elephant. It became a joke, another way to play around. Yet it got me thinking, about the original phrase-an elephant in the living room. It seemed appropriate to write about this concept with the angle of the joke between me and my friend, then compare it to the original phrase.
A flock of turtles! A flock of turtles!
They might say to you
When they are trying to distract you
From what is really true
You turn around in amazement,
Expecting to actually find
The flock of turtles! The flock of turtles!
It's hanging in your mind
But when you turn around
In complete shock you find
There are no turtles, there are no turtles
It was just a lie
They say that you are gullible
Your friends, they say to you,
Turtles can't fly, you know it's a lie
It's sad, but maybe true
They said that turtles were there!
Even though turtles can't fly-
They dissapeared! They dissapeared!
These turtles magically go "bye".
Turtles in the air!
You know it cannot be
This make-believe tale, it's a very fun sale-
Turtles in the air isn't make-believe
Even though the turtles
Might not have been there
You still will believe, turtles could be
Flying through the air
"Turtles in the air!"
They'll always say to you
Though turtles can't fly, you will always try
To see them, say they flew
For turtles might be slow,
And maybe so are you-
But flying through air, a miracle to spare!
They're fast, flying true
You know this little story
Might not really be true
But isn't it fun, what we've begun
With turtles flying behind you?
My friend Emily is a very random creature. She and a couple other friends came up with this joke about a flock of flying turtles. I didn't know about the beginning of this joke, however I saw the effects when, in lunch, someone would tell Emily, "Look! A flock of flying turtles!". She would invariably go look for the turtles. It was the funniest joke ever. Usually, someone would also take this opportunity to take something out of her lunch. I loved the joke about the flock of flying turtles, and thought long and hard about it, then wrote this poem on that joke.
Tears are spouting from everywhere
Make up smearing and more to share
Just all from this simple thing
From which tears are sure to bring
Torrents of rain fall from my eyes
I truly wish that tears had lies
For if they did maybe others won't see
When I'm sad or otherwise be
For tears will show without a doubt
That something's wrong, and something's about
So everyone worries, and asks, "what's wrong?"
But I won't tell, for feelings are yet strong
I'm overwhelmed, not sure what to do
Pain is hurting through and through
Heart is sore, and I am hurt
I truly feel as low as dirt
I have been hurt, and everyone can see
Still I wish it would not be
Such a hurt to cause such tears
They would reveal all my fears
Fears hidden down deep inside
Though these tears are hard to hide
When my tears give them away
I won't know just what to say
After a long week with multiple instances of crying, I felt bad about worrying my friends about what was going on with me. I had simply been having a bad week, yet it had been enough to make me shed a lot of tears. This bad week helped me to realize that sometimes, when you see someone who has obviously been crying, they can't tell you what is wrong. Sometimes, memories are too recent to express.
There is always someone
Who is always there
That no one ever sees
No one seems to care
Moving masses, different paths
Unconscious passing by
No one takes the time to see
The tears or sadness-why?
To them she is invisible,
A creature of her own
None can see or understand
Or even see her groan
The teacher doesn't even see
The simple raise of hand
A signal, that they all knew
Still none did understand
The simple silent cry for help
Or note in soda can
They didn't see how sadness hurt
Their help just ran and ran
Her tear streaked face was nothing like
What it used to be
They had all forgotten
What this girl set free
Once before, she saved them all
The brightest one around
A shining star with every right
She flew above the ground
Now, go look at who she is
But will you even see?
Now very different from what she'd been
Now silent as a tree
Overwhelmed she soon became
From helping without gain
She tried to give her love to all
But all she got was pain
And when she stopped and didn't help
They went on fine without
She was thus invisible
No purpose, now all doubt
I have often felt like the girl described in this poem. However, I know that I do not suffer from the same issues as this girl does. I have good friends, and I am not invisible to the people around me. However, this poem applies to too many people in society. I wrote it as an act of frustration after a busy class where I was raising my hand for help for a long time, without aknowledgement from the teacher. This was only because the class was so large, that in the allotted time, it was impossible to get to all the students to help each out. Still, I felt ignored, and to some extent, invisible, because of this unintentional treatment.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Dark and oppressive in every way
Everyone is talking with nothing to say
Huddling close for warmth or for light
Both are hard to come by in such a dark night
Everywhere around us are shadows creeping around
They will ever be there when night is to be found
Startling shapes and scary images frighten everyone
This is what they feed on, and what they find as fun
Still they're looming nearer, and no one knows just why
Why they enjoy our fear and every little cry
Fear will ever be their call-unknown they ever be
For shadows still will hide themselves so none can truly see
Huddling still, and fearfully, we're clustered in a ball
Unknown shadows all around-that fear is still their call
Formless shapes of anything-what shadows truly are
They carry all the things we fear, and nothing is too far
So every little scary thought is theirs to simply command
They will drive the buckling knees to ground with just one hand
Fears as this do drive us there, gasping at the ground
Trying to somehow steady the fear that they have found
At my house, we had a power outage, and I could not see a thing. The power outage lasted beyond when I had finally fallen asleep. I am and have been since my early childhood afraid of the dark. This night was totally terrifying to me, because there was no light, anywhere. There were candles, of course, but their light was quite dim. I could not see much else besides the faint light of candles, and the dim light of my cell phone. I was reduced to tears as I was so terrified being in the dark, with no obvious light. Just before I went to sleep, I wrote this poem as a text on my cell phone, and immediately felt well enough to fall asleep.