Tonight is that night
we stand together on your porch and
our hidden emotion is about to take flight.
The world is against us but together we fight
we stand hand in hand
tonight is that night
I look in your eyes. An incredible sight.
My heart begins racing and
our hidden emotion is about to take flight
The stars are above us, the moon shines bright
we lean in together as if it was planned
tonight is that night
The kiss last just seconds
but my heart has been stolen
tonight is that night
our hidden emotion is about to take flight
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Of Ellie and Collin
Of Ellie and Collin
Never before a cuter two
yellow hair and eyes of blue
she says she loves him
and he says it to
Together they live
together they travel
on buses on trains
on foot or by plane
He looks in her eyes
and she looks in his
She see’s everything she wants
love, life, happiness scattered in blue
His eyes look deep, deeper and through
to the girl he used to know
He sees a girl of beauty, alone,
brown hair and eyes of gold
His eyes wander and wonder
his love of art, of travel, of music
he abandons who he loves
for what he loves
Ellie and Collin
never before a cuter two
yellow hair and eyes of blue
she says she loves him
truer a statement never was made
He says he loves her
the lie slides off his tongue
together they travel
more alone he has never been
Adventure consumes him and he slips away
of art of music of travel
empty him of what he is
She looks in his eye and he looks in hers
she seems adventure shatter into blue
He see what could have been
Emily and Collin
never before a more unlikely two
Never before a cuter two
yellow hair and eyes of blue
she says she loves him
and he says it to
Together they live
together they travel
on buses on trains
on foot or by plane
He looks in her eyes
and she looks in his
She see’s everything she wants
love, life, happiness scattered in blue
His eyes look deep, deeper and through
to the girl he used to know
He sees a girl of beauty, alone,
brown hair and eyes of gold
His eyes wander and wonder
his love of art, of travel, of music
he abandons who he loves
for what he loves
Ellie and Collin
never before a cuter two
yellow hair and eyes of blue
she says she loves him
truer a statement never was made
He says he loves her
the lie slides off his tongue
together they travel
more alone he has never been
Adventure consumes him and he slips away
of art of music of travel
empty him of what he is
She looks in his eye and he looks in hers
she seems adventure shatter into blue
He see what could have been
Emily and Collin
never before a more unlikely two
Swimming Asleep
The feeling overwhelms
and I begin to drown
Escape is far from grasp
and I continue to go down
I embrace the now
I’ll tell you how
I take deep breaths
until there is nothing left
But then if comes
escape finds me
out of the murky waters
if only my eyes can see
I spit and I cry
it seems I didn’t die
the sun hits my eye
as I look at the sky
What’s now is what’s then
but I won’t do it over again
the how and the way
to that I’ve said goodbye.
and I begin to drown
Escape is far from grasp
and I continue to go down
I embrace the now
I’ll tell you how
I take deep breaths
until there is nothing left
But then if comes
escape finds me
out of the murky waters
if only my eyes can see
I spit and I cry
it seems I didn’t die
the sun hits my eye
as I look at the sky
What’s now is what’s then
but I won’t do it over again
the how and the way
to that I’ve said goodbye.
"Willow" Birch
He sleeps alone on empty streets
on cobblestone still damp,
the bitter cold night air stabs him
but not as sharp as his empty stomach
Escape from what his prison was
to the prison he lives in now
guarded only by his conscience
which slowly is slipping away
He is haunted by the old man’s words
you are never welcome back
still stings his red ears
but going back is to sour to consider
It been but a short few weeks
but everyone has pained him more
unceasing rain and gray skies
leave him seeking warmth in light.
on cobblestone still damp,
the bitter cold night air stabs him
but not as sharp as his empty stomach
Escape from what his prison was
to the prison he lives in now
guarded only by his conscience
which slowly is slipping away
He is haunted by the old man’s words
you are never welcome back
still stings his red ears
but going back is to sour to consider
It been but a short few weeks
but everyone has pained him more
unceasing rain and gray skies
leave him seeking warmth in light.
For Emily, Whenever it may find Her
It’s been far too long
since I wrote you that night
six strings humming the song
until the sky filled with light.
But time is against me
(like always it seems)
your father is coming so I must flee
our good times together remain as a dream
the seasons pass us by
the reasons are plain
but I still wonder why
leaving myself with insensible pain.
Our time is short and soon will expire,
And we lived by the rules and not our desire
since I wrote you that night
six strings humming the song
until the sky filled with light.
But time is against me
(like always it seems)
your father is coming so I must flee
our good times together remain as a dream
the seasons pass us by
the reasons are plain
but I still wonder why
leaving myself with insensible pain.
Our time is short and soon will expire,
And we lived by the rules and not our desire
Procrastination
The evening sweeps across the lands
the midnight hours are at hand
once again the day will cease
more or less or though who keep
the time in their crippled fingers
The time is at hand
and once again it seems I’m late
the hours pass me by
the more I do the less I have
the black of night fades to day
The hours of school drag on and on,
never is not enough and once is too much
the black ink stains the page
and the more I write the less I know
the final bell rings and I am free
But not really free because the hours are few
I stare at the floor past my worn black shoes
the more I stare the more I have to do
my telephone rings and before I move
im left, once again, stuck behind
It happened once and always will
the day turns black as the words on my paper
the more I wait the less I do
the hours grow late
and my ears still ring
I work late hours, into the morning. My pen changes from black to blue.
Once I am done I can take no more.
the alarm clock rings and I must do more.
the midnight hours are at hand
once again the day will cease
more or less or though who keep
the time in their crippled fingers
The time is at hand
and once again it seems I’m late
the hours pass me by
the more I do the less I have
the black of night fades to day
The hours of school drag on and on,
never is not enough and once is too much
the black ink stains the page
and the more I write the less I know
the final bell rings and I am free
But not really free because the hours are few
I stare at the floor past my worn black shoes
the more I stare the more I have to do
my telephone rings and before I move
im left, once again, stuck behind
It happened once and always will
the day turns black as the words on my paper
the more I wait the less I do
the hours grow late
and my ears still ring
I work late hours, into the morning. My pen changes from black to blue.
Once I am done I can take no more.
the alarm clock rings and I must do more.
Relax, Rebel
From time to time we all get lost
lose track of what matters the most
the dreams get tossed
let yourself become a ghost
Lose track of what matters most
take advantage; skip the day
let yourself become a ghost
There is no reason for you to stay
Take advantage; skip the day
the problems strangle as you strive
there is no reason for you to stay
run fight do what you must to survive
The problems strangle as you strive
You know what you do is right
run fight do what you must to survive
in the end all will fade to night
lose track of what matters the most
the dreams get tossed
let yourself become a ghost
Lose track of what matters most
take advantage; skip the day
let yourself become a ghost
There is no reason for you to stay
Take advantage; skip the day
the problems strangle as you strive
there is no reason for you to stay
run fight do what you must to survive
The problems strangle as you strive
You know what you do is right
run fight do what you must to survive
in the end all will fade to night
Without
When I saw you that morning, it was more than goodbye
too much to say so I didn’t even try
I gave you those flowers and a letter to read
but I didn’t know that’s not all I would leave
There was a bird that was trapped in a cage
he longed to be free but just can’t get away
When his cage was left open he is swift to take flight
now he’s on his own and soon he will die
The lonely musician who plays in the mall
he begs with a tune as he plays his F bar
The children all gather to snicker and laugh
he stutters a lullaby, the words he can’t grasp
The poor depressed writer is awake in the night
A pencil and paper are her only friend
She lays down her head but is offered no rest
her master piece paper is as blank as the rest
What do you do when you can’t say goodbye
What do you do with a bird that can’t fly
A singer who sings but his words don’t come out
a poet who rights but her pen in runs out
too much to say so I didn’t even try
I gave you those flowers and a letter to read
but I didn’t know that’s not all I would leave
There was a bird that was trapped in a cage
he longed to be free but just can’t get away
When his cage was left open he is swift to take flight
now he’s on his own and soon he will die
The lonely musician who plays in the mall
he begs with a tune as he plays his F bar
The children all gather to snicker and laugh
he stutters a lullaby, the words he can’t grasp
The poor depressed writer is awake in the night
A pencil and paper are her only friend
She lays down her head but is offered no rest
her master piece paper is as blank as the rest
What do you do when you can’t say goodbye
What do you do with a bird that can’t fly
A singer who sings but his words don’t come out
a poet who rights but her pen in runs out
For Marcus and Lizzy
Being with the girl you love
Is living in a dream
You dance you hug you kiss
and you wake up in a strange bed
or perhaps it is not to unfamiliar
and it is the unfamiliarity that is the dream
the girl you love is the victim
of your own cupid came
you shot the arrows of compassion
and were struck by the ricochet
bitter irony and Karmas cruel joke
How emotions tie and dis-attach
and you are stuck with a spoonful of sugar
while the fools you fooled
play you as a fool. You fool.
Is living in a dream
You dance you hug you kiss
and you wake up in a strange bed
or perhaps it is not to unfamiliar
and it is the unfamiliarity that is the dream
the girl you love is the victim
of your own cupid came
you shot the arrows of compassion
and were struck by the ricochet
bitter irony and Karmas cruel joke
How emotions tie and dis-attach
and you are stuck with a spoonful of sugar
while the fools you fooled
play you as a fool. You fool.
Love, Hate, Life, Death
Living with an
Obsession that is
Virtually impossible to
Escape
However you look
At it
This will always
Exist
Lost in this
Infinite loop of
Fears and doubt that
Ends with the blink of an eye
Do you
Ever wonder if
All we strive
To achieve is a
Hopeless waste of time?
Obsession that is
Virtually impossible to
Escape
However you look
At it
This will always
Exist
Lost in this
Infinite loop of
Fears and doubt that
Ends with the blink of an eye
Do you
Ever wonder if
All we strive
To achieve is a
Hopeless waste of time?
Too many
Adventure is not the immediate threat
at risk of our lives and our self respect
the journey of miles to places unknown
and lying to sleep in and unfamiliar bed
adventure dear friend is the memory of;
a lyric or a novel or a sculptors art
the strings of a guitar a walk in the park
the color of roses or a phone call in the night
where we end up and regardless of with who
the adventures dear friends are the memories’ of you
how could I forget this epiphany
I’ve grown blind to what I call fact
spite anger denied me what is truth
I balanced so carefully across tight ropes
but in the final few steps I falter and fall
at risk of our lives and our self respect
the journey of miles to places unknown
and lying to sleep in and unfamiliar bed
adventure dear friend is the memory of;
a lyric or a novel or a sculptors art
the strings of a guitar a walk in the park
the color of roses or a phone call in the night
where we end up and regardless of with who
the adventures dear friends are the memories’ of you
how could I forget this epiphany
I’ve grown blind to what I call fact
spite anger denied me what is truth
I balanced so carefully across tight ropes
but in the final few steps I falter and fall
The Time We Had
The letter, fourth, she gave to me
A page of sincere apology
The words I wish I had not seen
but I proceed in agony
“I'm sorry,” it read
in a delicate tone
“Its not my first choice, though
“I thought you should know”
What I fool I had been
I should have seen it before
This was gonna be mean
But sill I read more
“I never NEVER” rang in my head
dragged along by a string tied in a noose
Id hang until dead
and never try to cut loose
“I failed I failed, not much I can do
“I still need to know? Do you?”
of course I do; we’ll make it through
I fear however it is I that failed you
I left you with nothing
You are tired and numb
I left you crying and speechless
Has all this time been undone?
This time you see I’ll be that kind
Though the game may be stupid
The kiss was not a false sense of mind
Come on now, show me some love.
A page of sincere apology
The words I wish I had not seen
but I proceed in agony
“I'm sorry,” it read
in a delicate tone
“Its not my first choice, though
“I thought you should know”
What I fool I had been
I should have seen it before
This was gonna be mean
But sill I read more
“I never NEVER” rang in my head
dragged along by a string tied in a noose
Id hang until dead
and never try to cut loose
“I failed I failed, not much I can do
“I still need to know? Do you?”
of course I do; we’ll make it through
I fear however it is I that failed you
I left you with nothing
You are tired and numb
I left you crying and speechless
Has all this time been undone?
This time you see I’ll be that kind
Though the game may be stupid
The kiss was not a false sense of mind
Come on now, show me some love.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
The Price of Damnation
I stare at him through the glass, into his deep, empty, black eyes. No signs of remorse completely void of emotion. He just sits in his steel folding chair looking at me. It seems like an odd price to pay, damnation for petty revenge. Revenge is to strong even. I had no control over it, and I did everything I could to stop it, change it, reverse it, and take it upon myself instead. I loved her too, I lost her too. It’s funny really, that he would blame me. She was on her way to his house. That was the longest three days of my life. I guess he blames me for her death because I was holding her hand when she passed. He couldn’t take that I was there and he wasn’t. I was holding her hand when she passed and he was asleep in the foyer. He loved her so much too; I don’t know how he was able to leave her side, even for a moment. I suppose her love is what kept me there and not him.
I kick and pound on the walls around me. I punch at the ceiling but nothing moves, it just shortens the little time I have left. He pulls a gun from behind his chair and points it at me and then himself. His emotionless face twists. What was empty is now filled with guilt. Not for what he is doing to me, but for what he has done to himself. His longing for her is too great and the wait is too long. The hammer drops and his eternal wait for comfort is abruptly ended. It seems mine will be has as well. I take a deep breath and my lungs fill with the cold water that surrounds me and I fade into black. I waited for my life to flash before my eyes. It is a wait that will never end.
I kick and pound on the walls around me. I punch at the ceiling but nothing moves, it just shortens the little time I have left. He pulls a gun from behind his chair and points it at me and then himself. His emotionless face twists. What was empty is now filled with guilt. Not for what he is doing to me, but for what he has done to himself. His longing for her is too great and the wait is too long. The hammer drops and his eternal wait for comfort is abruptly ended. It seems mine will be has as well. I take a deep breath and my lungs fill with the cold water that surrounds me and I fade into black. I waited for my life to flash before my eyes. It is a wait that will never end.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I believe in the Best Day Ever.
I believe in the Best Day Ever.
The Best Day Ever would start at the midnight showing of 9. It would then be followed by an Early Seminary session at 6:00 am, where I will study the Book of Mormon, the keystone of my religion. From there I would travel directly to school, during which I would leave campus for lunch and pick up my preordered copy of Rock Band: The Beatles. The return to school will hold my favorite class followed by an early release. At that time I will go home and play my new game with my best friend and long time crush, Emily, while we make sushi until the time comes for us to go to the Post Secret display. This is my plan for September 9, 2009. Planning ahead for days like these is what makes life worth living, but they can also be the worst thing that could happen to a guy my age.
The Best Day Ever is a landmark for me, a symbol of the time. The key to events like this is an ancient and unperfected tradition of a gambler. The only way to achieve a true Best Day Ever is to go all in. No expense is too great, no risk is too high, and you must stick to the plan regardless of parental permission. Our absorbent, yellow and porous friend sets the example of a flawless Best Day Ever. It is not the plan the makes a day the best ever but what happens apart from it. The possibility that seminary is canceled and I escape sleep deprivation, or the chance that Emily likes me too. The improbability that makes a flawed plan so perfect is what defines the Best Day Ever.
My latest Best Day Ever involved ditching school on a Friday, driving four hours to Myrtle Beach and home again so a girl that I barely new could join us for a Halloween party Saturday evening. What made it a Best Day Ever is the drive back to Myrtle Beach Sunday night and home again to a arrive an hour before school started. The reaction of this drastic event among my peers was frightening, and the wrath of my parents when they found out was unlike anything I had seen before. I didn’t see daylight for months following this Best Day Ever. It was a perfectly flawed plan that led to one of the worst days of my life, but made me a hero among the adolescence.
I believe in the Best Day Ever. There is no moral justification. It doesn’t life changing theories. It is solely the expectations of immediate satisfaction, complimented with legendary aftershock.
The Best Day Ever would start at the midnight showing of 9. It would then be followed by an Early Seminary session at 6:00 am, where I will study the Book of Mormon, the keystone of my religion. From there I would travel directly to school, during which I would leave campus for lunch and pick up my preordered copy of Rock Band: The Beatles. The return to school will hold my favorite class followed by an early release. At that time I will go home and play my new game with my best friend and long time crush, Emily, while we make sushi until the time comes for us to go to the Post Secret display. This is my plan for September 9, 2009. Planning ahead for days like these is what makes life worth living, but they can also be the worst thing that could happen to a guy my age.
The Best Day Ever is a landmark for me, a symbol of the time. The key to events like this is an ancient and unperfected tradition of a gambler. The only way to achieve a true Best Day Ever is to go all in. No expense is too great, no risk is too high, and you must stick to the plan regardless of parental permission. Our absorbent, yellow and porous friend sets the example of a flawless Best Day Ever. It is not the plan the makes a day the best ever but what happens apart from it. The possibility that seminary is canceled and I escape sleep deprivation, or the chance that Emily likes me too. The improbability that makes a flawed plan so perfect is what defines the Best Day Ever.
My latest Best Day Ever involved ditching school on a Friday, driving four hours to Myrtle Beach and home again so a girl that I barely new could join us for a Halloween party Saturday evening. What made it a Best Day Ever is the drive back to Myrtle Beach Sunday night and home again to a arrive an hour before school started. The reaction of this drastic event among my peers was frightening, and the wrath of my parents when they found out was unlike anything I had seen before. I didn’t see daylight for months following this Best Day Ever. It was a perfectly flawed plan that led to one of the worst days of my life, but made me a hero among the adolescence.
I believe in the Best Day Ever. There is no moral justification. It doesn’t life changing theories. It is solely the expectations of immediate satisfaction, complimented with legendary aftershock.
Think about your best friend.
Think about your best friend.
My best friend is Emily. When we first met we were fourteen. She was the opposite of me in almost every way. I liked to hike in the forest. Emily was afraid of nature, and all the bugs that came with it. She liked to read in her room. I cringed at that horrible, single syllable word, book. Emily was quiet, shy, obedient, and had never talked to a boy other than her brother. I was loud, outgoing, rebellious, and had nothing but girls on my mind since I was twelve. We were on very different paths but they were both heading to becoming anti-social.
After a duration of about ten months with a bitter distaste for each other because of complete clash of interests, the lights turned on. My eyes had opened to a new world, where I realized that everything she did was incredible. The books she read were interesting, her sense of humor was paramount, and most important thing was her eyes. A silly freshman crush shaped what we do and think today.
Over the next few years Emily and I have had out up and down. I was driven by the spirit of adventure. Never satisfied with my destination, I always kept pushing boundaries and going further beyond reason. I was constantly searching for greener pastures. Emily’s life was dull and slow in comparison, but she glowed with happiness. I learned so much from her, and she from me. The best of times brought us closer together emotionally, but it was the worst of times that brought our personalities together and molded them together. I struggled with depression for several months and Emily was there for me all the way. She taught me how to find comfort in what I had, and that greener doesn’t always mean better. Through these times I brought her to places she had never been before. I showed her beauty in nature and freedom in risk. As I rose out of my depression the lessons we learned from one another became engraved into who we are.
Emily and I are now seventeen. We are still the opposite in a few ways but the same in many, many more. I still go on hikes but Emily joins me. Emily still reads her books, but I read them with her. Emily is still quiet but no longer shy. I am still outgoing but no longer loud. Emily dates other guys, and I am only interested in one. We were on very different paths but now it is very much the same, heading toward a future build on contradictions. At least, this is what I believe.
My best friend is Emily. When we first met we were fourteen. She was the opposite of me in almost every way. I liked to hike in the forest. Emily was afraid of nature, and all the bugs that came with it. She liked to read in her room. I cringed at that horrible, single syllable word, book. Emily was quiet, shy, obedient, and had never talked to a boy other than her brother. I was loud, outgoing, rebellious, and had nothing but girls on my mind since I was twelve. We were on very different paths but they were both heading to becoming anti-social.
After a duration of about ten months with a bitter distaste for each other because of complete clash of interests, the lights turned on. My eyes had opened to a new world, where I realized that everything she did was incredible. The books she read were interesting, her sense of humor was paramount, and most important thing was her eyes. A silly freshman crush shaped what we do and think today.
Over the next few years Emily and I have had out up and down. I was driven by the spirit of adventure. Never satisfied with my destination, I always kept pushing boundaries and going further beyond reason. I was constantly searching for greener pastures. Emily’s life was dull and slow in comparison, but she glowed with happiness. I learned so much from her, and she from me. The best of times brought us closer together emotionally, but it was the worst of times that brought our personalities together and molded them together. I struggled with depression for several months and Emily was there for me all the way. She taught me how to find comfort in what I had, and that greener doesn’t always mean better. Through these times I brought her to places she had never been before. I showed her beauty in nature and freedom in risk. As I rose out of my depression the lessons we learned from one another became engraved into who we are.
Emily and I are now seventeen. We are still the opposite in a few ways but the same in many, many more. I still go on hikes but Emily joins me. Emily still reads her books, but I read them with her. Emily is still quiet but no longer shy. I am still outgoing but no longer loud. Emily dates other guys, and I am only interested in one. We were on very different paths but now it is very much the same, heading toward a future build on contradictions. At least, this is what I believe.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sculpting
My parents went out of town one weekend and left me home alone. I locked myself in my house and sat down with a block of clay. For 72 hours all I did was eat, sleep, and sculpt. Never having sculpted before I was unsure of how, or what to do. This is what came out of it.
The big one came first, then the thumb, and then the people ( they are supposed to be mannequin sort of things.... i guess)
The big one came first, then the thumb, and then the people ( they are supposed to be mannequin sort of things.... i guess)
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