Epic Poem #8

Silence stops me,

and I

stand

in the desert of

my mind and

listen

to the sounds

of myself

laughter

laughter?

yes 

definitely

my echo

laughs at the

person I

have

become.

Feet

*Facebook Status Update*

Me, in my head: *snif snif snif* "I smell feet. Is it my feet?"

I smell them; nope, fine.

 
"Is it my pits? Nope." 

I'm getting to the point where maybe it's my...lady area? Nope.

Then I realize, it's my hands.

 
My hands smell like feet because I've been petting the dog. The dog smells like feet. Reeks of feet.

Apparently a giant foot must have been planted in the backyard without my knowledge and she's been rolling around on it. Jeeeeebus Christmas.

Epic Poem #7

Princess Niñita

Walks toward the shadows

In which she believes life lies.

But she, innocent, a child

Naïve

as we all were,

sucked in by the absurdity of 

the importance of

money and

reputation

and the

casting off of

dandelions

as a ritual of new
beginning instead

of the death

of a child,

crying.

c

r

y

i

n

g

Epic Poem #6

Come along with me and I shall take you where

The flowers sing praises with even the slightest stirring of the wind.

Where the birds sing out the glorious anthem of morning

With the sun's early rising.

Where Mother Nature is alive and well,

And she need not worry about extinction. 

This place, this heavenly place,

As fair and beautiful as it may seem,

Is but the Earth you are quite possibly standing on.

Such a place, you may think, could never be,

Yet you worry day after day about saving it,

And what will happen when you don't.

 
















But the answer to saving this majestic planet you call home

Lies not in a recycling bin,

Or an aluminum can drop-off center.

It lies in the hearts of all men.

It lies in planting a tree,

Or starting a garden,

 




















Or walking along the fickle border of the ocean 

That you begin to understand the full beauty of nature,

 
And you understand what must be done.

Target

*Facebook Status Update*

No kidding, I just had a debilitating gas situation at Target.

I kept trying to find an isolated aisle, and I couldn't, 

and I was almost doubled over in pain.

This was going to be an international incident wherein the Brentwood Target would be forever known as Ground Zero.

Guest Poet, Sarah

"Lockbox"

I love you I love you

But I just cannot say it.

I cannot reveal my feelings for you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I said it out loud
You’d step on my heart.

 

So I keep it locked up
In a neon pink box
Which repulses you, keeps you away.

Epic Poem #5

Red

Yellow

Green

Purple.

They say we're all the same and

it doesn't matter if you're one or the other. 

Why are we categorized, then?

If it doesn't matter so much,

Why are the labels there?

Huh?
Can you give me an answer for that?

I bet you weren't expecting that kind of reaction.

You probably expected me to say,

"Yeah, okay.  Sure."

But I won't!

Not anymore!

I have lived the past sixteen years as a prisoner of your groupings.

I have been a NERD,

POPULAR,

WHITE,

13-18,

CUTE,

AWKWARD,

And I'm darn tired of it!

Why must I be SOMETHING???

Can't I just be ME?

Do I have to be SCARED?

BRAVE?

OUTGOING?

SHY?

It's just hormones, you think.

She's going through a difficult time.

Well, it's NOT!

I'M not!

God! Get a grip!

I can be everything else,

But I can't be free to express my

POINT OF VIEW?

Just leave me alone.

And I'm not 

DIFFICULT!

Epic Poem #4

There are men far more devout than I.

Will you grieve them when they die?

The Lord cares not for talent or age,

So why do you place me on a stage? 

I am the youth, the future, see,

But don't place all your hopes on me.

I am but one, though not alone.

A mortal being, truth be known.

Because I am young, you praise my try.

Yet you ignore those older than I.

Those, who when faced with reality,

Stand up, chin high, quite stronger than me.

Do not praise me for what I've done,

For men quite older than I have won.

Though they are twice as old as I,

They, too, deserve your cheers and cries.

So, next time you start to clap for me,

Remember those who before me reached.

I'm not the first to reach for the stars,

Or to strive for a goal, whether near or far.

Think, instead, when your thoughts do turn,

Of those whose fires let mine burn.

My eyebrow emergency

*Facebook status update*

Saturday I had to get an emergency brow wax because the world had stopped turning and my threading place is closed.

The guy who did it was pretty cool, and he did a good job.

 
During the postwax tweeze, he ripped a hair from my browline and I said, "Jesus! It felt like you uprooted a tree!"
 

He showed it to me so I could see the enormous root.

And now we're best friends.

Epic Poem #3

Stuck between

Heaven 

and Hell

 



















And the world moves

and whirrs

and buzzes

and clicks

around me,

unnoticing 

and

coldly uncaring

But their silence in regard

to me

makes me 

sit down and cry

for

the loss of Myself.