any preferences on what I call you all?
Thesaurus discovered 3 favorites for me.
1~ Naked Apes
2~ Higher Animals
3~ Tellurians
: )
Monday, October 5, 2009
taking it to the next level
I've decided blogging has more to offer than I previously supposed. Similar to ironing. May take a little extra effort, but the end result is satisfactory. Who doesn't love putting on a crisp, warm, freshly ironed shirt? Don't clothes seem happier when they're taken care of? Almost excited for you to wear them. Yeah, I know inanimate objects can't experience feeling. Go watch toy story. Punch a stuffed animal. And tell me you don't feel a slight tinge of guilt.
World, it is one of those nights. I have a getting-ready-for-bed schedule, and don't want to do any of it. Wash face, floss, brush teeth, change into pj's, exercise, read scriptures, pray, play music, sleep. I'm not writing a letter I've been planning for a week, trying on my dress, reading jamo's poetry, painting, studying, or reading my new stack of delectably old books. Instead, I'm skipping away the minutes reading others blogs, adding to my own and successfully failing to allow my youtube music playlists to play consecutively.
My problem is I'd like to do too much. And it's past 1 am. Which means the only thing I should be doing is sleeping. And it is extremely tempting to simply sink under my downy comforter and blankets, onto my spacious bed and pillows, and give in to the dreaming that calls me.
I'm a junior in college. Yet I'm procrastinating getting ready for bed like any sane 7 year old. Do so often in fact. I hate relinquishing my treasured night to something as mundane as bodily needs for sleep. Perhaps I do need to be taken care of. Someone to nudge me in the direction of sanity, clean teeth, and adequate sleep. Will I ever grow up? Hm, wrong question. I don't believe growing up constitutes growing into living alone. I am a person much too in love with people to ever want to be without them for too long. We are People. Loneliness is not in our nature. I need my people.
Ah. Now I've been in bed throughout all of the writing, resolving that I will get up and get ready once I'm done.
But my cat just jumped on top of my comforter-covered-legs, stretched out, and went to sleep.
I'm never getting up now.
green pickle signing out--
sleep well World
p.s. I'm going to have to think of a nickname for you. W for world. E for Earth... or Earthlings. U for you. Dear thesaurus and dictionary.com, I'm coming to visit you soon.
World, it is one of those nights. I have a getting-ready-for-bed schedule, and don't want to do any of it. Wash face, floss, brush teeth, change into pj's, exercise, read scriptures, pray, play music, sleep. I'm not writing a letter I've been planning for a week, trying on my dress, reading jamo's poetry, painting, studying, or reading my new stack of delectably old books. Instead, I'm skipping away the minutes reading others blogs, adding to my own and successfully failing to allow my youtube music playlists to play consecutively.
My problem is I'd like to do too much. And it's past 1 am. Which means the only thing I should be doing is sleeping. And it is extremely tempting to simply sink under my downy comforter and blankets, onto my spacious bed and pillows, and give in to the dreaming that calls me.
I'm a junior in college. Yet I'm procrastinating getting ready for bed like any sane 7 year old. Do so often in fact. I hate relinquishing my treasured night to something as mundane as bodily needs for sleep. Perhaps I do need to be taken care of. Someone to nudge me in the direction of sanity, clean teeth, and adequate sleep. Will I ever grow up? Hm, wrong question. I don't believe growing up constitutes growing into living alone. I am a person much too in love with people to ever want to be without them for too long. We are People. Loneliness is not in our nature. I need my people.
Ah. Now I've been in bed throughout all of the writing, resolving that I will get up and get ready once I'm done.
But my cat just jumped on top of my comforter-covered-legs, stretched out, and went to sleep.
I'm never getting up now.
green pickle signing out--
sleep well World
p.s. I'm going to have to think of a nickname for you. W for world. E for Earth... or Earthlings. U for you. Dear thesaurus and dictionary.com, I'm coming to visit you soon.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Things I've learned/contemplated in the past few days : )
1. To all those trying to lose weight; apparently not eating really does work!
one side note however, this will eventually lead to death and is highly damaging to your body whilst you are not yet dead.
2. To all those trying to exercise their abdomen, back, and overall core muscles; throwing up repeatedly will do the trick!
one side note however, this is quite painful, will sap your energy and make it difficult to laugh for several days afterward, and tastes and smells rather atrocious. you may or may not be bedridden.
3. I really do find these things funny : ) I hope you are laughing too
4. Numbers one and two are not advisable to living creatures, no matter how appealing I may have made them sound. Don't you be getting any funny ideas. I have real ab work outs if you'd like them.
5. I had a thought while being ill. More of a question really. When people have those moments, where there is a separation of will between themselves and their bodies, do they think anything of what the "themselves" half could be? For example, I am christian, so if my body is completely rejecting food, and is virtually unhealthy, but I don't understand why because I have no objection to food etc. I would say that my spirit is fine, but my body is not. However, if a person doesn't believe in having a spirit, how would they explain that feeling of not being in complete harmony with your body? Do they simply see it as a mind vs. body thing?
one side note however, this will eventually lead to death and is highly damaging to your body whilst you are not yet dead.
2. To all those trying to exercise their abdomen, back, and overall core muscles; throwing up repeatedly will do the trick!
one side note however, this is quite painful, will sap your energy and make it difficult to laugh for several days afterward, and tastes and smells rather atrocious. you may or may not be bedridden.
3. I really do find these things funny : ) I hope you are laughing too
4. Numbers one and two are not advisable to living creatures, no matter how appealing I may have made them sound. Don't you be getting any funny ideas. I have real ab work outs if you'd like them.
5. I had a thought while being ill. More of a question really. When people have those moments, where there is a separation of will between themselves and their bodies, do they think anything of what the "themselves" half could be? For example, I am christian, so if my body is completely rejecting food, and is virtually unhealthy, but I don't understand why because I have no objection to food etc. I would say that my spirit is fine, but my body is not. However, if a person doesn't believe in having a spirit, how would they explain that feeling of not being in complete harmony with your body? Do they simply see it as a mind vs. body thing?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I love my timing
Just after such a sunny post, of course, I'm writing this one : )
This week, I've been sick. Not bad, just a strewn out head cold and sore throat. No fever. No throw up. Yay : ) Anyway, due to my less than stellar health, I've spent my days sleeping and drinking tons and tons of water and orange-pineapple juice, and my nights, staying awake till 3 since I am no longer tired after sleeping my day away. I had work today, so I was trying to rectify this skewed sleeping situation by going to bed early last night. Suffice it to say, one night turn arounds are not my thing. I spent hours lying in bed, and much less time sleeping. Today, I made a commitment to stay awake (from 5:30 am to 8:30 or 9 pm) so that I'd sleep like the dead tonight. I failed. Did you see that one coming? Yeah, I did too. But I didn't fail too miserably, I took an hour nap around 1 pm, and then another one around 6:30 pm...I think that last one was what killed me. Because now we are at 9:55 pm and I am WIDE awake. woohoo.
So I'm going to tell you all what's been on my mind lately. At the end of last week, at family dinner we started discussing nose piercings...I cannot for the life of me recall why, but we did. And my parents were struggling to see the point of getting such a piercing, and were asking my brother if he had any idea (because all boys in the teenage age should know this?) I believe I surprised them a bit when I said, that if I weren't mormon, I'd have a nose piercing. A diamond sparkly stud to be exact. We then started discussing what we'd be like if we weren't mormon, and I seemed to be the only one at the table who'd seriously thought it out before. So here goes america. (Obvious assumptions aside, such as my not existing or having different parents) This is Carly if she weren't mormon:
I'd have a diamond stud nose piercing (as previously stated). I'd also have hightailed it to Canada or Europe by now (specifically England, France, or Ireland to start). And I'd be an aspiring bar tender in whichever of those countries I ended up in. I'd have a fairly dirty mouth. But mostly for humorous punctuation and frustration. And I probably would have a limited bunch of words that I'd use anyway. I really don't like some of them.
I don't know where I'd be on the cigarettes thing. I'd probably have at least tried smoking. I may or may not have gotten hooked. Hard to tell. But if I had gotten addicted to cigarettes/any drugs, I'd silently hate myself for it. I like to be completely in control of my own mind and self. Giving away that power to cigarettes or drugs would make me angry enough at myself to stop after a while.
I'd have dyed my hair deep red and I'd wear it long or cut it really short. Anything in between drives me a little nuts. I'm assuming I'd be just as lazy non LDS as I am LDS : )
I'd have taken soccer through elementary school and middle. At the beginning it would be because my parents made me. (As many suburban parents when I grew up, did.) But after a while I'd stick with it because I loved it. And at some point, I'd probably realize that I sucked, and I'd stop. Unless I actually found talent there....but it's not likely.
I'd have definitely learned to skateboard. And I'd have played a lot more video games.
I'd have more of an attitude. Be more angry. And have pretty decent pride issues. I have a very stubborn side, and that would have more chance to come out during my growing up years. In regular high school, I'd think that a lot of people were idiots, and I'd have no problem letting them know, because I honestly wouldn't care what they think.
Once I finished high school, I'd get in whatever junk car I owned and just drive east until I got to Boston. Put as many miles between me and that as possible. Then, I'd have to come back. And I'd hate that. Which is why I'd hightail it out of the country not long after.
I'd still love old churches. Singing my heart out. Rainstorms. If I didn't have a big, close family with awesome food, I'd search for it. Mashed potatoes and rolls and stew would melt my heart once I found them. I'd think just as much, but talk less about anything that mattered. I'd stick everything in my writing and guard it with my life. I'd still be a sucker and cry at books and movies, but I may or may not let that side show to other people. Depends on the person I suppose. I'd try to have a stiff outer shell. I'd hate that everyone thought I looked younger than I was. I'd be a bit of a spit-fire. I'd totally wear converse. not pink.
I'd drink a bit, did I mention that? When I was having a hard day, or was out with friends. Oh, and coffee and I would be constant companions.
After I got over myself, I'd decide I wanted to go to college. I'd pay my own way by bartending. Selling my photography and writing. I'd try to get good enough at drawing to sell that on the streets too. I'd know a bit of a handful of languages but not everything of anything but english. Unless I lived in France for long enough. I'd get out of the drug scene if I was in it. Buy a flat or apartment in some city and get into journalism. I'd find a good, studly man and eventually get married; have kids. I'd love kids.
Most of this is fairly well placed speculation. But I am certain of one thing. I'd spend this whole supposed life looking for something. Something that would answer all of my questions when I spent nights by myself looking at stars. Or when I found myself looking out over another ocean. Something that would connect that early morning feeling of 'something's going to happen...today is special' and the perfectly unified feeling of release that would catch me at the end of a well written poem.
I'd walk into churches all my life, the way people stroll into used book stores and coffee shops. Looking for a feeling. More than being quaint or worthy of a picture. More than light streaming in through windows and lighting pews and candle holders. More than sensing the quiet reverence of hundreds of years of sacred saints living and dying, or faintly heard choirs murmuring their latin beauty. I'd spend my whole life searching for complete peace and surety. Knowing that I had a purpose. That it mattered that I was alive. That I was in fact a part of the bigness of the world, all of the parts that weren't made by man.
God willing, I'd find the gospel and have a great conversion story that would change my life forever. If not, I'd live just yearning to feel what I can feel everyday in this blessed life of mine. I'd die searching for assurance of a real God. One who could even love me. Die with a feeling that truth existed out there somewhere, just waiting for me to taste it.
This week, I've been sick. Not bad, just a strewn out head cold and sore throat. No fever. No throw up. Yay : ) Anyway, due to my less than stellar health, I've spent my days sleeping and drinking tons and tons of water and orange-pineapple juice, and my nights, staying awake till 3 since I am no longer tired after sleeping my day away. I had work today, so I was trying to rectify this skewed sleeping situation by going to bed early last night. Suffice it to say, one night turn arounds are not my thing. I spent hours lying in bed, and much less time sleeping. Today, I made a commitment to stay awake (from 5:30 am to 8:30 or 9 pm) so that I'd sleep like the dead tonight. I failed. Did you see that one coming? Yeah, I did too. But I didn't fail too miserably, I took an hour nap around 1 pm, and then another one around 6:30 pm...I think that last one was what killed me. Because now we are at 9:55 pm and I am WIDE awake. woohoo.
So I'm going to tell you all what's been on my mind lately. At the end of last week, at family dinner we started discussing nose piercings...I cannot for the life of me recall why, but we did. And my parents were struggling to see the point of getting such a piercing, and were asking my brother if he had any idea (because all boys in the teenage age should know this?) I believe I surprised them a bit when I said, that if I weren't mormon, I'd have a nose piercing. A diamond sparkly stud to be exact. We then started discussing what we'd be like if we weren't mormon, and I seemed to be the only one at the table who'd seriously thought it out before. So here goes america. (Obvious assumptions aside, such as my not existing or having different parents) This is Carly if she weren't mormon:
I'd have a diamond stud nose piercing (as previously stated). I'd also have hightailed it to Canada or Europe by now (specifically England, France, or Ireland to start). And I'd be an aspiring bar tender in whichever of those countries I ended up in. I'd have a fairly dirty mouth. But mostly for humorous punctuation and frustration. And I probably would have a limited bunch of words that I'd use anyway. I really don't like some of them.
I don't know where I'd be on the cigarettes thing. I'd probably have at least tried smoking. I may or may not have gotten hooked. Hard to tell. But if I had gotten addicted to cigarettes/any drugs, I'd silently hate myself for it. I like to be completely in control of my own mind and self. Giving away that power to cigarettes or drugs would make me angry enough at myself to stop after a while.
I'd have dyed my hair deep red and I'd wear it long or cut it really short. Anything in between drives me a little nuts. I'm assuming I'd be just as lazy non LDS as I am LDS : )
I'd have taken soccer through elementary school and middle. At the beginning it would be because my parents made me. (As many suburban parents when I grew up, did.) But after a while I'd stick with it because I loved it. And at some point, I'd probably realize that I sucked, and I'd stop. Unless I actually found talent there....but it's not likely.
I'd have definitely learned to skateboard. And I'd have played a lot more video games.
I'd have more of an attitude. Be more angry. And have pretty decent pride issues. I have a very stubborn side, and that would have more chance to come out during my growing up years. In regular high school, I'd think that a lot of people were idiots, and I'd have no problem letting them know, because I honestly wouldn't care what they think.
Once I finished high school, I'd get in whatever junk car I owned and just drive east until I got to Boston. Put as many miles between me and that as possible. Then, I'd have to come back. And I'd hate that. Which is why I'd hightail it out of the country not long after.
I'd still love old churches. Singing my heart out. Rainstorms. If I didn't have a big, close family with awesome food, I'd search for it. Mashed potatoes and rolls and stew would melt my heart once I found them. I'd think just as much, but talk less about anything that mattered. I'd stick everything in my writing and guard it with my life. I'd still be a sucker and cry at books and movies, but I may or may not let that side show to other people. Depends on the person I suppose. I'd try to have a stiff outer shell. I'd hate that everyone thought I looked younger than I was. I'd be a bit of a spit-fire. I'd totally wear converse. not pink.
I'd drink a bit, did I mention that? When I was having a hard day, or was out with friends. Oh, and coffee and I would be constant companions.
After I got over myself, I'd decide I wanted to go to college. I'd pay my own way by bartending. Selling my photography and writing. I'd try to get good enough at drawing to sell that on the streets too. I'd know a bit of a handful of languages but not everything of anything but english. Unless I lived in France for long enough. I'd get out of the drug scene if I was in it. Buy a flat or apartment in some city and get into journalism. I'd find a good, studly man and eventually get married; have kids. I'd love kids.
Most of this is fairly well placed speculation. But I am certain of one thing. I'd spend this whole supposed life looking for something. Something that would answer all of my questions when I spent nights by myself looking at stars. Or when I found myself looking out over another ocean. Something that would connect that early morning feeling of 'something's going to happen...today is special' and the perfectly unified feeling of release that would catch me at the end of a well written poem.
I'd walk into churches all my life, the way people stroll into used book stores and coffee shops. Looking for a feeling. More than being quaint or worthy of a picture. More than light streaming in through windows and lighting pews and candle holders. More than sensing the quiet reverence of hundreds of years of sacred saints living and dying, or faintly heard choirs murmuring their latin beauty. I'd spend my whole life searching for complete peace and surety. Knowing that I had a purpose. That it mattered that I was alive. That I was in fact a part of the bigness of the world, all of the parts that weren't made by man.
God willing, I'd find the gospel and have a great conversion story that would change my life forever. If not, I'd live just yearning to feel what I can feel everyday in this blessed life of mine. I'd die searching for assurance of a real God. One who could even love me. Die with a feeling that truth existed out there somewhere, just waiting for me to taste it.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
I am in Bliss : )
Accurately stated, my geographical location is on a pillow covered bed, in "my" bedroom, on the top floor of a condo in Park City, Utah, United States of America, North American Continent, Northern Hemisphere, Earth. Also known as Bliss : )
It is gorgeously sunny and breezy outside. The type of day people dream of from fall to winter and catch glimpses of throughout summer and spring. One of those dappled days with the flyaway clouds all whispy and melting into the soft blues of the sky. The kind of day that just blossoms joy. I am claiming a piece of this day. Because a piece of its wonder is drifting in through my wide open window, and blessing my eyes and ears. Blessing them with the luscious sight and sound of money trees, shuffling and swooshing against themselves as the skipping wind ruffles through every one of their bending branches. This day has found me, so I am keeping it. Especially since, for the first time in my whole life: there is a perfect patch of roof just under my sundrunk window : ) And tonight I'm going to climb out and watch the dancing stars from it. Yes this is a dappled, sigh-happy, wonder of a day. This is a memory I am keeping in the wrinkles of my eyes, for all of those other days that have forgotten this wonder in their downward waking.
My smiles are catching on the wind, to surely be whisked through the window screen, and burst into a million pieces on their adventurous trails around the world.
I hope at least one gets to you : )
* bon jour tout la monde *
It is gorgeously sunny and breezy outside. The type of day people dream of from fall to winter and catch glimpses of throughout summer and spring. One of those dappled days with the flyaway clouds all whispy and melting into the soft blues of the sky. The kind of day that just blossoms joy. I am claiming a piece of this day. Because a piece of its wonder is drifting in through my wide open window, and blessing my eyes and ears. Blessing them with the luscious sight and sound of money trees, shuffling and swooshing against themselves as the skipping wind ruffles through every one of their bending branches. This day has found me, so I am keeping it. Especially since, for the first time in my whole life: there is a perfect patch of roof just under my sundrunk window : ) And tonight I'm going to climb out and watch the dancing stars from it. Yes this is a dappled, sigh-happy, wonder of a day. This is a memory I am keeping in the wrinkles of my eyes, for all of those other days that have forgotten this wonder in their downward waking.
My smiles are catching on the wind, to surely be whisked through the window screen, and burst into a million pieces on their adventurous trails around the world.
I hope at least one gets to you : )
* bon jour tout la monde *
Friday, May 15, 2009
I'm not used to this form of writing my soul out online. Because I don't write my soul out online. What do they call a blogger who is obviously inexperienced and awkward? A nube? Hopefully not a goober. That would suck. Anyway, life in rexburg has been pretty good and extremely windy : ) Which is awesome and all until you are a girl with long hair, in a skirt or perhaps on a bicycle making your way up a "hill" against 45 MPH hurricanes. : ) good times. I'd just like to go to chicago and compare. Cause if it isn't as windy there, I am stealing our name back. Just cause the white people got to Illinois before Idaho doesn't mean we should get gypped.
a few things I'd like to bring to rexburg.
1. rain. downpour style.
2. those huge sandwiches with the steak and the french fries in them...philly cheese steak?... nevermind I can't remember what they're called. But we need some of those. stat.
3. a city.
4. weighted skirts. I don't know if they exist elsewhere, but we should invent them.
5. running shoes.
6. an entire store devoted to old books and cd's/records. d.i. does not count.
7. a costco.
8. argentina. haha just kidding. that would get messy.
: ) but really, life is pretty good here. my apartment is awesome and fully functioning.
But haha I live with 6 girls so recent drama:
1. one of my roommie's got engaged, wedding is in August : ) stoked does not even begin to describe how excited we are : )
2. one of my roommates just broke up with her boyfriend
3. one of my roommates just spent about an hour sitting outside on the porch in a lawn chair [i'm guessing due to boy issues that we won't get into]
4. one of my roommates met this guy who I swear looks like a cute disney prince come to life and I vote she gets married to him. Or at least flirts with him so he'll know to ask her out. Baby steps are good : )
5. me, well, tommy wrote me a 'dear jane' earlier this week. that was good fun. not really. It was fake though, which is really quite quite good. We have a horrible sense of humor that I've decided we should stop... having. cause it's only funny after a certain point..
6. and the last of my roommates doesn't have guy stuff as far as I know, and she seems pretty happy : ) "coincidence? I think NOT!!" [anyone know the movie? anyone?]
moral of the story? I don't know, you pick. I say great guys are definitely worth it. Whatever "it" generally tends to be.
oh right, school stuff.
School is AWESOME. No joke, I seriously love it. I'm learning more every single day than my brain sometimes has the capacity to gawk at. It's brilliant : )
I'm taking the following classes:
family 100, child development, sociology, dance, teachings of living prophets, spanish, relationship psychology, and interpersonal communication.
It's crazy and good.
Oh! and my mom is coming down in a couple weeks for mothers week end and I'm pretty much stoked : )
...and I'm going camping next weekend for a few days. Don't tell my mother. If anyone is telling her, it's gonna be me. It's perfectly safe and with perfectly safe people, I've just never gone camping here, with them, before, and I don't know how she's gonna take it.
well I think that just about sums up life. I'm hoping and praying the Swine Flu will completely die down, wishing I could talk to an elder many countries away, happy to be alive, grateful to be here, very possibly beginning to enjoy running, falling in love with allergy drugs, and wishing you all a wonderful evening.
love ya,
~ carly
p.s. tonight I touched my toes doing the sit and reach for the first time since I can remember...I'm about as flexible as your average male. Haha anyway, it was AWESOME. ciao everybody
a few things I'd like to bring to rexburg.
1. rain. downpour style.
2. those huge sandwiches with the steak and the french fries in them...philly cheese steak?... nevermind I can't remember what they're called. But we need some of those. stat.
3. a city.
4. weighted skirts. I don't know if they exist elsewhere, but we should invent them.
5. running shoes.
6. an entire store devoted to old books and cd's/records. d.i. does not count.
7. a costco.
8. argentina. haha just kidding. that would get messy.
: ) but really, life is pretty good here. my apartment is awesome and fully functioning.
But haha I live with 6 girls so recent drama:
1. one of my roommie's got engaged, wedding is in August : ) stoked does not even begin to describe how excited we are : )
2. one of my roommates just broke up with her boyfriend
3. one of my roommates just spent about an hour sitting outside on the porch in a lawn chair [i'm guessing due to boy issues that we won't get into]
4. one of my roommates met this guy who I swear looks like a cute disney prince come to life and I vote she gets married to him. Or at least flirts with him so he'll know to ask her out. Baby steps are good : )
5. me, well, tommy wrote me a 'dear jane' earlier this week. that was good fun. not really. It was fake though, which is really quite quite good. We have a horrible sense of humor that I've decided we should stop... having. cause it's only funny after a certain point..
6. and the last of my roommates doesn't have guy stuff as far as I know, and she seems pretty happy : ) "coincidence? I think NOT!!" [anyone know the movie? anyone?]
moral of the story? I don't know, you pick. I say great guys are definitely worth it. Whatever "it" generally tends to be.
oh right, school stuff.
School is AWESOME. No joke, I seriously love it. I'm learning more every single day than my brain sometimes has the capacity to gawk at. It's brilliant : )
I'm taking the following classes:
family 100, child development, sociology, dance, teachings of living prophets, spanish, relationship psychology, and interpersonal communication.
It's crazy and good.
Oh! and my mom is coming down in a couple weeks for mothers week end and I'm pretty much stoked : )
...and I'm going camping next weekend for a few days. Don't tell my mother. If anyone is telling her, it's gonna be me. It's perfectly safe and with perfectly safe people, I've just never gone camping here, with them, before, and I don't know how she's gonna take it.
well I think that just about sums up life. I'm hoping and praying the Swine Flu will completely die down, wishing I could talk to an elder many countries away, happy to be alive, grateful to be here, very possibly beginning to enjoy running, falling in love with allergy drugs, and wishing you all a wonderful evening.
love ya,
~ carly
p.s. tonight I touched my toes doing the sit and reach for the first time since I can remember...I'm about as flexible as your average male. Haha anyway, it was AWESOME. ciao everybody
Friday, March 6, 2009
surprise surprise, it's been a while
I suppose I could write to you about the fact that I stayed in bed until 2 pm today, catching up on all of the sleep and relaxation that I missed out on this week, and that I have spent the four hours since then doing homework so that I can go out tonight and do kid things. Until tomorrow when I'll do more homework preferably all day this time so that I can have my sunday free. And I suppose I just did write to you about all of that boring stuff. Sorry. Wasn't it dull? And un-insightful into me or whatever it is you come here to learn..
So I'm just going to spew poetry at you again. Because I've already written that. And copy and paste is a marvelous tool. And because I've quite almost decided that blogging is not part of my nature. Just opening a door to the world so they can figure me out in a half hour read. Where's the fun in that? Not to mention the privacy and "decency". So I shall plague you with riddles [poems] instead : ) The answer to all of them is a thought running rampant through my head that escaped in the form of a delicate concoction of the english language. Little pieces of me I suppose. Like fingernail clippings or memories or smiles. hope you enjoy them. please feel free to leave your thoughts as always.
and don't take life too seriously, we are after all just children in our own right, wandering out into life to discover its wild flowers and beauties. You're never to old to go exploring. Or to learn something new. Or to really screw up, and realize life goes on and it's ok. Or to meet a bosom friend. Go make today special and quit reading blogs. Tell the people you love that you are forever in love with their heart and soul. Realize you are happy to be alive. I am going to go shower because my life is glorious like yours and includes indoor plumbing.
oh yeah, I promised poems. here ya go.
-----
I'm a stowaway
it's who I am.
sneaking trips
inside black and white
shots
kept safe inside
purses and books,
traveling the globe
in pixeled square
parcels.
take a flash
and take me somewhere.
----
I'm a midnight man
who lights around middles
of purple skies freckled with
silver sprink diddles.
I dash about centers of earths
revolutions
in and out shadows
and year resolutions.
I skirt on old memories
and ballet jazz muses
on notes, clefs, and stanzas
on lyrical bruises.
I chuckle at stories
spoken soft round young beds
and send fairies to prance
over lullabyed heads.
Don't try to stiffle
or sit on my fun
I've dusk haze to juggle
and dawn to out run.
----
Those cobbled lanes were laced exotically
quaint and magical.
So sweet you could almost lick the dingy streets
and taste sugar sparkles.
Genuinely alive.
That's what it was.
The basis of living, breathing;
ancient memories kissing cheeks,
fingertips interlocking nouveau.
Those painters casting masterpieces
amidst bridges and falafel carts and sun glazes;
no desperation in their eyes or brushes.
They knew life was miraculous
just as it was.
Covered in sparkling lights, foreign faces, brilliant scarves, dark pasts;
dipped in chocolate
just brewed that morning,
in the rose shadows of cathedrals
and amour de vivre.
-----
If I could just make a hammock-swung
beach dream
for you
over white sugared sand
surveying a crystalline blue sea
that really looks watercolor green
with kites and smoothies
and poetry books
I think I might.
Even if it was just for a day
for us to muse back at and say,
"do you remember that one time..?"
----
A few weeks ago
he was in a pit.
Yeah just a few months ago
they all said he'd make it.
A few steps back
he was a walking man.
And a few hours from now
he'll be dead again.
----
sucked in
smoothed out
puffed up
straightened north
glued stiff
pasted on
stickied red
pierced through
buttoned up
seared flat
weighed down
pinched tight
sprayed on
layered thick
just
be
beautiful.
----
Every morning at 3:27 that man comes
with his striped bag and velvet shoes
he comes and steals the ice crystals
from the dirt
in my rose garden.
He thinks them rare gems of unsurpassed beauty
and would keep a collection
if they'd stay with him till morning
instead of sneaking back
amongst the roses
every night.
He would keep a collection
if he remembered truthfully his dreams of adventure
in far off lands of myth and majesty,
were sleep nozzled escapades
through my thorny flowers
and frozen earth.
So I'm just going to spew poetry at you again. Because I've already written that. And copy and paste is a marvelous tool. And because I've quite almost decided that blogging is not part of my nature. Just opening a door to the world so they can figure me out in a half hour read. Where's the fun in that? Not to mention the privacy and "decency". So I shall plague you with riddles [poems] instead : ) The answer to all of them is a thought running rampant through my head that escaped in the form of a delicate concoction of the english language. Little pieces of me I suppose. Like fingernail clippings or memories or smiles. hope you enjoy them. please feel free to leave your thoughts as always.
and don't take life too seriously, we are after all just children in our own right, wandering out into life to discover its wild flowers and beauties. You're never to old to go exploring. Or to learn something new. Or to really screw up, and realize life goes on and it's ok. Or to meet a bosom friend. Go make today special and quit reading blogs. Tell the people you love that you are forever in love with their heart and soul. Realize you are happy to be alive. I am going to go shower because my life is glorious like yours and includes indoor plumbing.
oh yeah, I promised poems. here ya go.
-----
I'm a stowaway
it's who I am.
sneaking trips
inside black and white
shots
kept safe inside
purses and books,
traveling the globe
in pixeled square
parcels.
take a flash
and take me somewhere.
----
I'm a midnight man
who lights around middles
of purple skies freckled with
silver sprink diddles.
I dash about centers of earths
revolutions
in and out shadows
and year resolutions.
I skirt on old memories
and ballet jazz muses
on notes, clefs, and stanzas
on lyrical bruises.
I chuckle at stories
spoken soft round young beds
and send fairies to prance
over lullabyed heads.
Don't try to stiffle
or sit on my fun
I've dusk haze to juggle
and dawn to out run.
----
Those cobbled lanes were laced exotically
quaint and magical.
So sweet you could almost lick the dingy streets
and taste sugar sparkles.
Genuinely alive.
That's what it was.
The basis of living, breathing;
ancient memories kissing cheeks,
fingertips interlocking nouveau.
Those painters casting masterpieces
amidst bridges and falafel carts and sun glazes;
no desperation in their eyes or brushes.
They knew life was miraculous
just as it was.
Covered in sparkling lights, foreign faces, brilliant scarves, dark pasts;
dipped in chocolate
just brewed that morning,
in the rose shadows of cathedrals
and amour de vivre.
-----
If I could just make a hammock-swung
beach dream
for you
over white sugared sand
surveying a crystalline blue sea
that really looks watercolor green
with kites and smoothies
and poetry books
I think I might.
Even if it was just for a day
for us to muse back at and say,
"do you remember that one time..?"
----
A few weeks ago
he was in a pit.
Yeah just a few months ago
they all said he'd make it.
A few steps back
he was a walking man.
And a few hours from now
he'll be dead again.
----
sucked in
smoothed out
puffed up
straightened north
glued stiff
pasted on
stickied red
pierced through
buttoned up
seared flat
weighed down
pinched tight
sprayed on
layered thick
just
be
beautiful.
----
Every morning at 3:27 that man comes
with his striped bag and velvet shoes
he comes and steals the ice crystals
from the dirt
in my rose garden.
He thinks them rare gems of unsurpassed beauty
and would keep a collection
if they'd stay with him till morning
instead of sneaking back
amongst the roses
every night.
He would keep a collection
if he remembered truthfully his dreams of adventure
in far off lands of myth and majesty,
were sleep nozzled escapades
through my thorny flowers
and frozen earth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)