Hey, I've got some new jeans on, and suddenly everything's fine.

So I've decided I'm going to finish the year at SUU and graduate with an Associate of Science degree.
Did you catch that? I made a decision.
*applause*

I've decided something else: It's okay to be sad every once in a while. The moment this was internalized, I got this brilliant little grin. :) Happiness isn't new jeans or curly hair, it's knowing that it's okay to be sad sometimes. Once I knew it's okay, the rebellious in me didn't want to be sad anymore. So I stopped that. Quickly turned it upside-down.

I just found out the other day that one of my poems has been selected to be showcased.
No big deal.

Wuuuuuuu! :)

Looking forward to the weekend.

Creative Writing 2020

09/21/11

Timing

Sauntering down a twisted marble staircase,
cracking with overuse,
he comes closer.
Words are tumbling out of my mouth;
rehearsed
sketches of what is to come
or what will soon dissolve?

A picnic blanket is laid,
he brings sincerity and peace.
Napkins stained from the red around our mouth
are proof that
love requires no jealousy or spectators eye, with him
are the happiest days of my life.

Surveying the area
taking in a breath and sense of wholeness,
there’s a touch of longing
a concealed plea for one who will soon be displaced.

A broken promise now seen as
a promise misunderstood.
Been there for me in the way he thought
I wanted him to be.
And though I couldn’t see it then,
in the best way he ever could be.

As I learn to let go, if only temporarily,
he’s taught me something.
Honest affection isn’t crimson glasses;
there’s a deepness
a devouring desire to be selfless.

Love can envelop and mature
without constant contact.
Continual greeting and communication
instead, seasoned with earnest prayers.
Instead of waiting for him,
I discover myself.

writewritewriterightwritewrite

Creative Writing 2020
09-14-2011

“There’s an explanation for everything, even the need to explain.”

Why is there unknown?
Like a fortune cookie must break
before it’s prophetic,
and often it breaks our own backs
we admit what we haven’t given enough of
ourselves, to reach our desired state of being
sheepishly
we decide that maybe that’s all we wanted
from the start.

Do we need an explanation?
Or do we revel in the fact
that no one can give us one?
We quench our thirst
with unexplainable disruptions
can’t stand to see too still a body of water
or too perfect a face.

The wind tickles the grass--
or does the grass tickle the wind?

Dirty feet with half polished nails,
hair flying in chaotic coils,
inadvertently tangling itself.
When the sun’s warmth is not enough
one small thing can ruin a day.

I remember you telling me how I had made you
beam for a full minute,
unconscious of your pause.
I grasp the memory of the journal entry
you recited
and push away all the stolen cars and poisonous plants,
leaving nothing but a smile stretched
so uncontrollably wide
that it stretches
from fingertip
to fingertip,
encompassing all I am.