Categories
Academic Careers / Work Financal Personal Wellness

Life Haikus

I keep trying to update because it has most certainly been too long, but each time I right a really long-winded post that goes nowhere, thus I have decided to compose some haikus about where my life is right now.

1.
Creative Writing
my eyes glued to my inbox
“no new messages”

2.
unemployment bites
Work Study jobs exclude me
my wallet empties

3.
anthropology
I now love humanity
brothers and sisters

4.
I missed reading books
up all night, lost in Wicked
I find childhood

5.
summer wonderland
our minds climb over mountains
we sleep in the trees

6.
Maximilian
he holds my heart in a cup
as he cooks dinner

My life feels rather fragile at the moment.

Categories
Academic

Decemblog! 07/31 – Poetry Spam

Because I am studying for 2 exams whilest also composing an essay, I have decided to spam you with some of my poetry:

Canary

Society girl
two coats wrapped about
two cold shoulders
pearls that catch
the reflected rainfall,
they swing from her tree trunk neck.
Eyes that shine
coral on a reef
with fish darting, dancing about
her seaweed hair.
Her lips are a plum,
sharp white teeth
against a black tongue
her fingers, narrow
wrapped about a stiff black cigar
She bubbles and floats along conversations
ever aware that
her canary heart
is breaking.

Love

He found himself ill
about a week ago
he refused to go to the hospital
so she drove him
and paid for his medications
even though he had the money

Now she stands in the kitchen
slowly stirring chicken soup
staring absently into the yellow mix
seeing the future like
an old woman at a carnival
her pale hands resting on the spoon

And he lies on a sick bed
wide awake from too much sleep
reading Peter Pan
like he did when he was nine
years before his path crossed hers

I drive her to the hospital
as she doesn’t trust me enough
to hold the cooling soup
and before I can stop the car
she’s in his room
talking about Neverland

I wait around for awhile
watching them fall in love
their voices raise and lower
in dreams and memories
until the chatter numbs me
and I fall asleep at the window

When I awaken the sun has fallen
and she sleeps in a small heap
next to him on the pale sheets
while his chest rises and falls
and the tiny tubes in his nose
entwine themselves in her hair

I wake her from a happy sleep
and she wakes him with a kiss
and a promise to return tomorrow.

And as we cross the parking lot
to take her home
she speaks of the future
that she saw in his chicken soup.

Categories
International

Decemblog! 01/31

After a week of papers, projects, and exams I am soooo ready for December. As I will have a little bit of extra time this, I have decided that I am going to post once a day for the entire month of December. I have decided to call it Decemblog!, and I have roped Max into this so that I will have someone to keep me on track (also to get him back into the blogging game). The rules are, I must post once a day every day of December. (Though a post can really just be a sentence.)

Now that the rules have been set, I would like to move onto today’s very random entry.

First off, a poem.

The Taking Tree

I carved my tongue
into your trunk
footprints, handprints
my skin stretched
across the bark
You taste of bugs
of burrows and maggots
it consumes me
and I can no longer feel
the cold wind tearing
my flesh from you.

I am seriously looking forward to Christmas. I get to see my dog again for the first time in a year, and hang out with my mom in Washington DC. I miss the states, especially Target and Nutter Butters. Canada should really catch on and open a Target that sells Nutter Butters, then I would never leave.

One Day Down, Thirty to Go!

Categories
Academic

Paper

Because I want to keep putting myself out there, because I want to make some sort of life out of my writing, and because I need to stop being afraid to express myself, here’s another poem, this one I wrote as part of a personal experience paper for my Existentialism class, (which I highly recommend, by the way)

Paper

Living in paper houses,
in a paper world,
I have paper clips for hands.
Before you I was made of stone.
My feet dragged on the grass,
and my eyes were stuck to the sky.
Now we dwell in paper factories.
They make us clean
and sharp.
They make us feel like we can be anything,
but forget to mention
how easy we are to crumble and tear.

Categories
Academic Personal

Lady Lazarus

I have been spending my break between classes on Youtube, having just discovered something that causes me more joy than I ever could have imagined. Recordings of Syliva Plath, my most favorite poet, reading some of her poems. My poetry teacher plays these sorts of things in class, but I never knew that they could be so accessible…even now, as I type, I can hear her beautiful and elaborate voice as it dances over “The Stones”

I understand that to draw this much joy and awe from such a recording makes me even more of a poetry nerd. Think of it as if your favorite book stood up and read itself to you. The poems almost transform as they cross her lips, and I am left, dumbfounded and terribly absorbed in it all. I’m sorry if this post comes out in chunks, I’m just having trouble sharing with you what this is like…

maybe you should just see for yourself.

Here is “Daddy” , “The Applicant” , “Lady Lazarus” , “The Stones” , and “Ariel”

Categories
Personal Spirituality

Poetry

I think in the deepest, darkest, little spot in the core of both my heart and soul I am a poet. I can spend hours pouring over the work of Plath and Eliot, trying not to cry from the truth and beauty hidden in all those little stanzas and words. I simply cannot shut up in Poetry class, and I walk around afterward, lost in a haze of meter and rhyme. Sometimes little quips hop into my head and stay there, so I pace about repeating them aloud, seeing how I can tweak them (for an example, see this entry). I understand that, while I can be a poet, I cannot make my life as a poet. This is disheartening. Sure, I can teach English, which would include some poetry, or I could just forget my lofty little dream and move on to advertising or law and make lots of money, which I might do from necessity and drive. I’m still not even sure what I am majoring in…

What I do know is that this blog is mine, just as this passion is mine, and I have decided to combine them thusly. And so, from now on, every now and then, I will be posting some of my poetry. You don’t have to read it, you don’t have to tell me it is awesome or terrible, or anything like that. I just want to express what is inside me while I still have an outlet to do so.

So, to start, here is Scattered.

He lives a life of questions with no answers,
ideas bigger than this narrow little house,
with stairs that curse like they might do you in.
His thoughts are reflective,
fireworks across the night sky of his mind
equations I could never comprehend.
Sometimes he talks.
I listen with my mind a little in the trees,
I wish there was more I could say
My thoughts are scattered across the floor.

Categories
Wellness

something jotted

I cannot be
a wafting leaf
between earth
and tree

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