SEEMS familiar, doesn’t it? Well, that’s because it’s the title of a fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson called The Snow Queen, which recently was adapted into a Disney animated film called Frozen.
Now this is not a fairy tale about a prince who can freeze things and make it snow in July. This is about me and my experience sledding!
Though most of the key figures of the New York City political machine known as Tammany Hall tended to avoid reporters, George Washington Plunkitt proved the exception to the rule. In 1904, William L. Riordan, a reporter for the New York Evening Post who had befriended Plunkitt, recorded a series of talks by the former State Senator in which Plunkitt presented his political philosophy and provided a defense for the politics of Tammany Hall.
Oh, my dear, oh, sweet night,
Return and save me from the spite
Of the empty, unloved, and uptight
Reassure that this is right
Oh, my dear, oh, please soon,
Catch my hope that's failed to bloom
Your eyes, twin torches, light the room
Banish the impending doom
Oh, my dear, oh, I'm weak,
I fear the future's looking bleak
I'm nothing more than a lonesome freak
Yet you sit and wipe the tears from my cheek
Red Balloon
Turn back time
I think that I might
It's a tantalizing prospect
Getting to redo what came untied
But when it did it showed me who
You really were inside
So I think what I want
Is to lighten my tread
Relieve my balloon
Watch it burst while within
The sky and rain bits
Of red on your laugh
Concealing it from memory
It turned out like it was meant
And I wouldn't go back
In Theory
Whoa
Is that really happening
Is he looking at me
You swear he is
You look again
And the guy's still looking
Okay, take a breath
Pace yourself and smile
Give it until you're past his
Head-on view
And then you can look again when
You're almost at the doors and
Yep
He's turned his head to follow you
You kind of are dying to do a
Victory dance
Right there in the Wal-Mart parking lot
Except
What if he was staring because something was
Stuck to your shirt or something or
I've been played haven't I?
A piece used in your game,
Your game of hide and seek.
Round and round the mulberry bush,
I chased the weasel,
Around the board,
Up and down,
Shoots and ladders.
I've been played,
Lied to,
Pushed and pulled.
My heart has been used like a toy,
Just another piece in your game,
Your game of chess.
From point A to point C,
I followed you around the board,
Falling into your trap.
Pawn takes bishop,
Knight takes pawn.
You cut my heart out,
Chapter Four
_Riley_
So close, to graduation, to my 18th birthday, to finally moving out and going to college and making my own choices; and I’m excited and terrified at the same time. I’m so ready, ready to be done with this last painful semester of high school, ready to go see and do and try new things, ready to learn that I can take care of myself, to some degree, ready to discover who I am, to continue discovering who I am, ready to maybe fall in love.
My palace my peace,
My silent solitude,
Disturbed with four swift words.
My teeth on edge,
I continue on,
With a sharp word and reprimand.
I close my eyes,
And sigh softly,
My palace quiet my peace restored.
***
If one plus one equals two,
And you're thinking only of me and you,
Then let's add subtraction.
***
Part of my heart is screaming November, avoid all the pain that came with December, skip all of January's empty strife, the cold of February that cut like a knife, bury my heart in the early warmth of March, and take me back to the very start.