Thursday, January 27, 2011


these feelings of infancy.
Early mornings,
a desire for— learning
new words, balancing
on a bike. twirling
in circles, ballet dances
with my father.
oversized sport-jerseys
and sunscreened-white faces.
Goodbye, innocent pleasures—
bubble gum, hot chocolate,
a card game— go fish!
the excitement to see Daddy,
or cuddling, with Mommy,
and always wanting to be Home.
say hello
to responsibility.
give it,
a cordial bow.
I repeat words such as:
and smile knowingly
at sweet small sticky faces.
I yearn for
“Make Believe”.
each and every day…
“Once upon a Time”,
repeated in many ways.
Calling out for
“Mommy” and “Daddy”
expecting nothing less
than shelter, love and safety in return.
I miss, the sweet little innocence,
of waking to a blanket of snow—
fumbling with tiny hands unable to fully grasp,
the world that they learn to explore and,
grabbing an adult index finger
and never letting go.
these feelings of infancy,
forever you’ll remain in my mind.
I’ll remember when excitement wasn’t
mock-child joy
nor electronic-induced glee.
my innocent childhood joy,

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

I'm Not Afraid

As time consumes my every thought,
I aspire to live within the solace of nature.
Allowing silence to grip at my pounding heart,
as I lie in the grass, slowly absorbing that
We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness.
God is the friend of silence. See how nature
-trees, flowers, grass- grows
in silence;
see the stars, the moon and the sun,
how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.
Therefore, I stand—
broken from the crumbling walls of civilization.
the confinements of a world- that expects
what I refuse to give. While
Our failures, our disillusions, our bitterness that seems
to signal the collapse of everything, are enlightened by hope.
The act of love of the cross, confirmed by the Father and the radiant light of the resurrection,
envelops and transforms everything.
From betrayal, friendship can be born; from rejection, pardon; from hate, love.
I know that the Will of God will never take you where
the Grace of God cannot protect you

So I have learned, that you must
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and
to not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.

With each yawn in the morning,
looming due date over my head,
I look to the sky,
I’m not Afraid.


Permeating each cool, sharp, breath.
Trembling vibrato breaks the bones
that built a figure standing.
Now collapsing down, down, down,
breathing out each harmony…
To their knees this figure falls.
A subject, object, mere figure within living creation—
alone, unimportant, but loved.
this figure weeps.
Deep inside, the pitch (black) begins to fade,
with radiance beaming through;
Looking up this figure praises,
realizing their virtue.

Permeated by each cool, sharp, breath;
your trembling vibrato cuts into my soul—
My broken bones heal to standing, as
the smoky room swallows all regret.
spitting lies has never eased,
the tension forcing me down.
With bright eyes staring upward,
I learn what it means to rise.

Based on an Image by Jean Luc Mylayne "august-september"

Sweat blurs the vision of my eye,
digging grooves through
my sun-tired face.
A frown parallels sweat on my lip,
not far away,
a hose has that drip, drip, drip...
Emerald leaves mock shade,
billowing over chutes of bark, browned with age,
worn from anticipation, and moist
from the sky's desolation.

Villanelle Poem

The clouds close in on a world of despair,
Creased with age, the leaves begin to fall,
Warmth clings, holding onto my every breath of air.

Lights flash with each passing driver, the light show, a mocked-up fair.
each raindop matches, that tiny bouncy ball,
As the clouds close in on a world of dispair.

Each time I've looked, at the hurricane sky, I've wondered who'd dare
to fight, as it began to call
with warm breath clinging to the air.

The thunder began to flash and scream, a swear
Coming from up above, as I begin to feel so small
The clouds close in on a world of despair.

Each raindrop clings to my skin, I wear
it as a shawl.
Each warm breath clings to the air.

The world so often has seemed like a square,
Leaving the option of walking off the earth to fall.
As the clouds can close in on a world of despair,
And warmth will cling to my every breath of air.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Nothing Left

The cloud swallows you,
spits you into despair,
and tear-mixed rain drowns out
the cries of anyone near.
Stress sings, ringing in your ears;
As doubt controls every thump of your heart.

A girl sits.
Slowly tapping her foot.
As deer scared eyes
reveal her every thought.
Tired she says,
is the panic stricken stare,
The stress of her life
has removed the sun-kissed face
And more importantly
All of her faith.

Friday, August 27, 2010

i have forgotten how to cry.
how to succumb to hurt,
and breathe in pain.

i have forgotten how to wish.
how to feel it my bones,
and want it more than anything else.

i have forgotten how to believe.
how to trust with all my heart,
and love with no regret.

i have forgotten how to be.
how to be at peace,
and accept all of life's punches.

i have forgotten,

Thursday, July 29, 2010


You are not a definition.
You are not your disease.
You cannot be defined by one syndrome,
But that may be how it seems.
I sat there when I heard this,
Researched with
Wikipedia my sole source.
As I read and discovered, I thought,
This is him. YOU.
I did not think,
That explains a few behaviors.
I classified you, as that.
You may be autistic,
But I love you dearly.
And just because some odd behavior has a name,
Doesn’t mean I define you by it.


i cry,
because that's what you do, right?
when you're hopeless...
because nothing is going your way.

i stay quiet,
because voicing your anguish is hard,
when you don't want to bother anyone...
because who really cares, how do you know?

i stay on the outside,
because engaging in conversation hurts,
when you know that people will ask if you're okay,
because they want to show genuine concern.

i close up and keep my head down,
i have my smiling face sad and gone.
i just wait, hoping it'll go away.
i hate that feeling, when nothing is right.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Highway

I continue down the busy street,
hands clenched, on ten and two,
foot slightly alternating between the gas and brakes.
flash up ahead of me.
turning the wheel, i knock the signal indicator,
my feet pressing down,
as i slow, then stop.
left turn only...
and i turn.
Acutely aware of my surroundings,
headlights illuminating my face, my mother's.
and reflected in the mirrors.
an eye catching light show,
especially if i squint.
but i couldn't...
under the bridge, ramp on right,
right signal indicator...
and the engine revs.
eyes open, merge, speed, trucks flying by.
the highway for my first time.
i could go anywhere!
but i get off the next exit...
a sigh of relief, a wide smile.
I feel Infinite.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

"Work With A Smile"

Work with a smile,
says my father, as i weed through the entangled garden-made-forest...
work with a positive attitude so you'll be rewarded.

as i groan and complain,
sweat developing on my brow,
i carelessly ignore him,
treking through the wild, the unknown.

but standing on stage,
with lights brightly lit,
in the back of the line,
youll see these pearly whites shine.

and if you ask me?
why i will smile,
well, im setting an example,
i'm working hard,
and i always show my respect,
by showing those pearly whites...
even when id rather cry.

Blue Plastic Cup

the cool plastic feels smooth im my hand,
as the words are skimmed over once more.
the daily affirmation i always needed,
lied under the thin dust collected,
on the blue plastic cup.

the cup had little value to my family,
little value to a school, college application, and even to most people.
but the little cup told me what i always needed to hear...
someone is thankful for me.

that little plastic cup didnt say,
"hey you're well liked... or you're so great!"
but that little plastic cup said,
we love you. we see you. we appreciate all those little things...
smiling on stage, using your best effort... its seen. and its there.

when that little plastic cup... cool to the touch,
slowly dropped to the side of my bed,
i hadnt realized that my award could be considered trash.
my first real concrete recognition,
was a blue plastic party cup.

and the fact that no one cared about my poor cup in the trash,
made me realize how maybe,
what i've been pursuing,
isnt truly being supported...

Friday, July 23, 2010

writing isn't for publishing,
it isnt to change the world.
its to change perspective,
and maybe, its to be heard.

its to say what ive been thinking,
open up what i never knew,
acknowlegde the unexplored,
its the closure i always need,
when hitting "publish post"
the end.
i cant understand,
what goes through your mind...
when you accept a role,
but disrespect to no end.

i dont believe,
that you would have such an attitude,
when all that is needed,
is a little complying.

i never understood,
how someone could ruin a show.
not follow the rules,
and be sour the whole time.

please, will you explain,
all that you think.
explain what has happened.
which made you accept a role in a show you now hate.

"I had seen something, but everyone in my life acted like that never happened."

When you listen to me,
Do you hear what I say?
Do you remember,
or is it shut down, blocked away.
I am just crazy,
Am I insane?
Or am I the worst,
At hiding the shame.

Is it that easy, for you to forget?
Do you feel better unconfronted,
or are you torn, like I thought.
Would it be easier, if this all went away?
Because with these problems all attacking me,
I cant seem to get away...

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Happiness isn't for all,
And love is not always rewarded.
As I gain new things I adore,
I lose the old things no longer needed.
Religion doesn't grasp everybody,
Some people feel betrayed.
Some don't understand it,
And some find it unrealistic and plain.

I have met some incredible people,
and even if the atheists were correct,
Sometimes it's more than just Him above,
But the people He has helped me meet.
I have been alive for 6,042 days.
In this I have grown,
walked and talked.

I have made friends,
Gained passions,
and met some of the best people in the world.

I have been alive for 144,996 hours.
In this I have watched TV,
Had classes, and slept in my bed.
I have had sleepovers, and been lazy,
and Driven for 19 so far!

I have been alive for 8,699,818 Minutes.
And let me tell you,
It has gone by slow.
When I've watched each tick of that longer clock's hand,
I could see it, pulse, as if it's the heartbeat of our world.

I have been alive for 521,989,196 Seconds.
And I promise, it's even more now.
I can hear the tick tock of some nearby clock,
and for as many seconds as there may be,
I haven't appreciated them enough.
When something goes by so fast,
you forget to be thankful for it.

I have been alive for
197 Months,
863 Weeks,
6,042 Days,
144,996 Hours,
8,699,762 Minutes,
521,985,801 Seconds, and
521,985,826,246 Milliseconds.

It's crazy, and it has gone by too fast.
But here I am,
And I'll try to make each minute last.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

I think I can
I think I can
I think I can
That’s all that’s running through my mind
I hope I will survive this mess called life,
Because right now, I love it dearly,
Life is beautiful, life has pain… but by appreciating it all. You’re always alive.
You know because you live through the darkest moments,
And you thrive during the bliss of a day, an hour, or a year.
And you thrive during the bliss of a day, an hour, or a year.

You know because you live through the darkest moments.
Life is beautiful, life has pain… but by appreciating it all. You’re always alive.
Because right now I love it dearly,
I hope I will survive this mess called life.
That’s all that’s running through my mind
I think I can
I think I can
I think I can
I was
scared when I was younger.
Of things I couldnt even realize.
Whether it be the funny looking stranger,
or the terrors of the middle of the night.
When I was younger, I worried about being forgotten,
That I'd have no friends, or that I was the girl no one liked in the end.
I was nervous, and excited, loquatious and caring.

But then again... you could say that I still am.

Writers Block

That awful frustration
where you know deep down,
that you have something to say,
to shoo away that frown.
To have it all down on paper,
ridding yourself of that anger,
is getting rid of a water's dam,
letting it flow and eb,
explore and learn.
If you ever need to know
what you should do when you have writers block.
talk... think... explore.
Because the water has seen everything,
its knowledgeable beyond words.
and I never would've realized this,
if my mind didnt take that pause.