Done

Darkness falls in the form
Of a haunting smile
Eyes downcast, downplayed
"I'm fine, okay? All right?"
And there in the painstaking careful
Molded plastic edges
Seethed a truth as deep as any
Brought to fruition in quiet dredges
You turned away your brown-milk eyes
At the ready with a woven reply
That, conjoined with trepidation
Sliced through the denial, emitted a staccato sigh
"What's done is done"
You told me once
I look at you now
And I see that you're done

American Girl

Where once was one there now are two
Yet never many, always few.
No limit should be placed on me,
Yet always use me sparingly.
All hurts I heal, all wounds I mend.
The loss of me your heart will rend.
All men love me, both fools and wise
for discords all I harmonize.
When swamped by sorrows, sickness, fear,
When down the face drops lonely tear,
'Tis I who bring a helping hand,
Companionship to help you stand.
Such love! Such love! My cry rebounds:
"I know no bounds! I know no bounds!"

They tell me not to use clichés
No longer fresh as daisies;
I've reached the end of all my rope,
Blank paper drives me crazy.

They tell me to forego abstracts
Like truth and mad and sappy;
Now I'm confused, despise the rules
That've never made me happy.

"Show, don't tell!" - they order well
When they can master language;
I only say, if I had my way,
I'd use all emotions and adages.

So... I admit, I haven't really been on here at all recently. I know it's been less than a month since I last posted anything, but even when I've posted stuff recently I haven't really looked at what other people are doing. I'm sorry. It's not that I've stopped writing either. In fact, I'm probably working on too much. That's part of the issue- I've been working on this huge research paper for school and it's taken up most of my time and then the rest of my time has been spent working on two or three other books which I'm currently working on.

The Language of Death
“Sarah Dies.”
“What?”
“You know, Sarah dies.”
“Sorry- can I have my coffee?”

I tried to do as much studying as possible at the café after that. I found I could do most of my work there without too much distraction, and I wanted to be near Emily and Ema whenever I could. Jerome often joined me, doing his work in the café as well. The first week of December came, and with it our surprise.
“You put up the fliers?” Emily asked as I came into the café that evening.
I nodded. “And are you sure we have enough food?”
“Absolutely. Ema and I have been preparing for this for a few weeks now. It’s not all fresh, but what’s not was frozen.”

Yes, poetry first, then maybe I'll follow with fiction. Just a collection of unfinished thoughts, random musings, and an attempt to put them into poetry form. As a consequence, they have pretty poor rhythm, so please forgive that. Otherwise, enjoy! Oh, and for the readers of my story, there is another chapter very soon to be finished :)

***

‘No name’

It was fleeting, it was short
It left as soon as it started
Memories fade
But never completely

A dull ache
Just resting there in a hole in my heart

After some deliberating, Dad and I decided that just we would go to pick Riley up from the airport. It was Christmas Day, afterall, and it would have taken brute force to pull the kids away from their new toys. I also didn’t want them to wreak havoc while my sister and I were trying to get reaquainted with each other, as they were known to do. That wouldn’t make a very good first impression after almost two years.

it wasn't long--
maybe five or ten
minutes--
before the words
tumbling in my head
started trickling out

little pieces of
the weather,
the pulsing
in my aching feet
a trickle of something
--perhaps--
inspiration
that fragmented against
my teeth

1. Feet

Feet that move
down the path
do not think
daily about the
purpose of their
movement
until the day ends
and the tapping
of busy steps
subsides

2. Winter Walk

there is
impressive silence
as the
teetering light
of morning
dances
under
graceful
white weather