Thursday, June 16, 2011

quiet messes, soft hands

we often ask ourself: 
"how did i end up in this tangeled mess?"
when in reply i can say:
"quite easy, though it's a silent progression"

i opened my jewelery box today 
and found earings upon rings intertwined with necklaces and interlaced with braceletes.
each strand of gold and silver blended in my jewery box
and i thought:
"how on earth will i ever get myself out of this mess?"

tiny fingers contemplated each untangling thought of silver and gold
each unraveling was a key to unlock the next clue
to get out of 'this mess'

those necklaces didn't intertwine themselves overnight
though it sure seemed they planned that trick on me.

truth be told,
how we get ourselves out of the tangled messes we find ourselves in
takes careful thinking, and a patience that only some have the authority of dealing with.


Tuesday, June 14, 2011

past-time lottery

if you had the chance
to re-live your childhood,
would you do it?
would you go back?





Saturday, June 11, 2011

Taking a Chance

let's pick a spot on the map
no matter the distance
and go.
please, let's just go and leave.




Thursday, June 9, 2011

North

weather isn't just weather. it's an emotion, smirking and scratching it's beard. its a stepping block to the next down fall of precipitation or warmth that holds an individual secret. 

clouds take it all in. they're empathetic, they're willing to hold others weight as long as they can.  They gaze at others and hug tightly the big, and little nuances of ones down below. Clouds don't judge, for they are the ones you turn to at 2am for their faithful ears.

thunder is here one minute, gone the next. Thunder is sarcastic; prods and pokes, leaving us jaws gaping, eyes in wonder, and body looking for a direction to run. Thunder is bold, for it says what you were always dying to say, but never did.

lighting is impulsive. It doesn't know what it wants, for it strikes against the innocent, chances far and few between. lightning, though, harmonizes with the thunder, and as a team it's unmistakable beauty. Lightning is possessive, for it makes you wish you could just be that much greater.

hail is beauty in disguise. it's the dirty compacted cement at the bottom of your body, that you've stored up for years, and don't want to show anyone. Hail is the attempt at digging up the dirt, to polish tones on your skin that are now lost and dulled down. Hail is a response, a grieving of the sorts. A hit or miss at striving for a new luster.

rain is content, yet uneasy. It demands a presence, yet sits on the sideline. Rain is vulnerable, yet confident. Rain sings. Rain whispers, rain cries and sobs, rain breathes and sighs. Rain puts us into a stillness that white noise cannot provide, nor the smell of baking cookies can compare. Rain is you and me, for every drop has a name-tag, and a voice. It's not perfect. It doesn't ever change, yet it always stays the same. Rain is east and west, now or never. It's here, its gone tomorrow.


Wednesday, June 8, 2011

carry

i really just want to continue letting the summer wind
comb through my hair
much the same, i wish there was a 
'significant you' in accompaniment. 
carry on.



Monday, June 6, 2011

pure explosion

if i could only stay this beautiful, while keeping irony in tact at the same time.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

365

in one year
all i have to say is:
my hair has grown.