High on life

It can only be described as being high on life. From under the sun bikini clad dodging the rocks of the riverbed and sliding with the current of waterfalls to a swanky green lace dress decked in pearls it is a high. It's a feeling of control power and freedom. It's when the full moon becomes you to dance. It's that feeling of being completely on fire body and spirit.

Oh Evangeline

"Your denial is bolstered by your dreams
Thinking love is gonna save you
But it ain't love if it's mean, Evangeline."

Driving along in the passenger side seat,

your hand clamped on mine, drowning in music,

ears escaping. Wind glazing through hair,

the freedom is sitting outside of the hunk

of metal we sit in. Yearning to break free

dance in the air, swallow pounds of sunlight,

eyes wanting to sparkle, fly with the birds,

not behind bars, behind glass, an animal at a zoo.

I am not for display, I am not a show dog,

to be leashed and dragged around a ring.

Under the misty fog we called love,

hidden from the world, but not anymore

I broke the glass, ready to terrorize the tourists,

embracing the wild side, giving me a new life.

Sail- AWOLNATION

My newest dance beat after SYTYCD last night in a Sonya piece. It's so raw and beautiful and amazing to dance to. It just feels...naughty.

Forgot to be You

"Where can a dead man go
The question with an answer only dead men know
But I'm gonna bet they never really feel at home
If they spent a lifetime learning
How to live in Rome."

You've spent life, learning to live in Rome,

going by everything you've been told,

walking by the book, walking by the talk,

but you forgot to breathe.

You forgot that inside is a seed of you,

that cannot be determined by the chapters

or by anyone trying to tell you how to live,

you forgot how to be you.

You spent too long learning to live in Rome,

you've lost things in life, lost chances, lost hope,

lost love because you went by the authority,

you forgot to live life to the fullest.

The glass was full, but now it's empty

and life is passing you by at the speed of a racing

train. I don't live in Rome. I don't try to live in Rome,

because my path isn't on the normal paved road in Rome.

If you could see

If you could only see me now
a smiling face, dancing to the beat driving around in the car, you wouldn't recognize the person I've become. There are no tears no sadness. It doesn't belong in my bones. Rather it's the sweet smell of success, the fancy work clothes, the full feature magazine articles.
No if you could only see
The confidence dripping from my veins the grace and beauty and control.
If you could've realized so long ago.

Washing the Poison

It was a toxic needle, its slim neck slipping into my vein
depositing a site of green slime of envy, the red blood of heartbreak,
the silver thread of lust. Spread like dust scattered from an old
chest sitting in a basement, growing like running water
over a Chia pet. Pumped through blood, water in a balloon,
ready to burst, pressure building, a hose turning on.

Exploded, the sparks from a set of colorful fireworks,
at first leaving a trace of snail like snot, but then an ember
in the fireplace, disappearing, smoked out, a gray cloud rising
from a bonfire. Wind, picking it up like a cloud of fog, rolling away,
a ball down a hill, the pelting of a summer rain, washing away,
soap dripping off a car, poison gone, a NASCAR car gone from the track.

The set up

I had been tasting the sweet nectar of freedom for a month.
The first week i cried.
The second i busied my body.
The third i danced and let free.
The fourth it was a glimmer.

But then it came time to treat
Get away from the familiar,
live a little. It came dinnertime
And a simple birthday party
Became the playtoy of a matchmaking
Mother. He was nice, bringing me
My drink but it was a fight of the brothers
And i left without a thought of anything more.

Deep in my mind, it was the guy
Back home, although miles away.
The flirty texts back and forth, a game.
Eyes smiled while cheeks blushed.
It wasn't hidden for long, no maybe
A day, maybe less. I itched for his touch
The smile, the flirting, and the kisses to come.

Away

I know I've been so good with posting this month and we made record pageviews! However this weekend i am headed on a vacation to NYC for some much needed fun and change of environment. I'll be back Monday with some new poems! See you later followers!

Back in the Groove

Yellow cabs rushing by, highlights flashing
Skyscrapers towering overhead, looming
so far into the sky, touching the stars
Concrete sidewalks, cracked and covered
in the art of graffiti, stop and go, stop
and walk, cruising by Broadway,
running down stairs in heels to catch the R,
dress skirt flaring, designer sunglasses,
Coach bags, fake Rolex, 
I'm back in the New York groove. 

When In Rome- Nickel Creek

I promise this is still a poetry blog and not just a music playlist. I do find that music influences a lot of my poetic moods and so therefore, they are connected and they are poetry in themselves, especially country.

Little White Church- Little Big Town

The beginning of my country phase.

Country Girl

Stampin' in rhythm with those cowgirl boots,
swingin' those hips in the blue denim jeans,
hair flyin', no more city girl for her.
It's the country beat that kicks her
into gear. Ropin' those men like cattle,
opening that barn into a new life.

Thrown out, it's not a car for her,
it's all about the barn, beddin' down
with the horses and hay. Covered
in dirt, don't phase the country girl.
Up at dawn, turned down at sundown,
spendin' the day in the saddle.

Abandonin' the old ways, don't need
no men. Skin toughin' up with the day's
work, tossin' those hay bales like they're
a feather. No one mess with that country
girl, no one's breakin' her heart. Brown
barn, checkin' the fences, it's just her
and the horses, cattle and the sheep.

She's her own soul now, been stitched up
too often to need anything beside her
horse and herself. Soaked from washin'
the horses and the buckets, hay stuck
in her hair, she don't care. She just go
stampin' in rhythm with those cowgirl boots.

Hollywood's Not America- Ferras

My newest addiction song thanks to one friend, Bill Mayer. (I will not admit defeat.)

A new book (a rant more than a poem)

The mind does amazing things. It controls our muscles, our bodies, our dreams. But one has to question then what the role of the heart is. For centuries, humans have believed the heart to be amazing. I mean, it does keep us alive. But what about the emotional connection we put to the heart? Does the heart really have a say? One of my favorite lines in Princess Diaries 2 (yes i know, corny) is the "heart does things for reasons that reason will never understand." For some reason (no pun intended) I think I will never understand my heart. It pulls and tugs me in ways that I will never get. I know when things aren't good for me. I should know when things are over and a chapter in the book has closed (or the entire book and not just a chapter.) Rather, my heart has no stopping point.

It has a lot to do with how I live my life I guess. I never give up. I don't ever want to close a book entirely and even struggle and pull at the pages of some chapters. I fight. I don't like change all the time. Yeah, some of it is good and I'll admit it later on, but it doesn't mean I have to face it now. This gets me in trouble a bit. (ok maybe a lot.) You would think that as smart of a mind as I have, my heart would be a little nicer. But it's not. I thought I had it all. I thought I had finally figured out what my heart wanted. I figured out my heart and not my mind. My mind knew that book was closing. My heart just fought it. My heart didn't count on someone not feeling the same.

So now I'm back at square one. I'm back at not understanding my mind or my heart. I'm back onto letting my mind run free at night and do as it pleases. I need to get this stuff reined in. I am working on it. It's amazing how therapeutic simply bonding with an animal and how awesome a chance to just sit in a field (dirt, mud, bugs and all) is. I'm strong. I will figure this out. It's just a whole new book that I'm just gathering up the strength to open up the cover.

When a girl has a horse

Rolling out of bed, eating a piece of toast
pulling up knee high socks, a simple t shirt
those worn pair of blue jeans, hair back.
Driving down the street, sun shining up overhead
finally reaching the driveway.
Strolling down to the barn, out rolling in the field
hooves in the air, scratching her back, sits a
little bay mare, with her dished Arabian head
and the stubbornness of a Morgan, splatter of
white socks, a dash of white on her forehead,
she comes ambling up to the barn, sticking her head
over the gate and into the shade. A soft touch
on her white forehead, a mess of black mane
laying gently over her eyes.

She looks at me, she knows.
It's been a tough month,
an emotional roller coaster. She nuzzles, bumps
her nose into my arm, dirt and slobber
draping down my sleeve. I laugh, as I grab
her gear. My heart unloads as the mud and dirt
comes from her coat. She munches on grass,
but she knows as I sling on her saddle and tighten
the girth. She nuzzles again, hitting my chest,
taking her bit the first try instead of three.
I smile at her, she's ready for a ride.
Mounting up, it's like coming home.

For once, she doesn't dart to the barn
or refuse to trot. No, today we are a team.
Even after work is over, walking around the field
feet out of stirrups and just cooling off,
appreciating the sunlight, swiping at the bugs,
we know. Dismounting and taking out the bit,
she shakes her hair, flipping it this way and that,
those barn eyes so content as I begin taking
off her equipment. Little treats stuck here and there
she knows my pockets too well. The birds chirp,
a dog barks in the background, but nothing
matters beside her and I. Sitting on the grass,
letting her graze, we hang out, old friends
just enjoying the June day. Finally time
to go inside, a hug as she hugs me back,
her nose against my shoulder.

We know.

Glass- Thompson Square

"Trying to live and love,
With a heart that can't be broken,
Is like trying to see the light with eyes that can't be opened.
Yeah, we both carry baggage,
We picked up on our way, so if you love me do it gently,
And I will do the same.

We may shine, we may shatter,
We may be picking up the pieces here on after,
We are fragile, we are human,
We are shaped by the light we let through us,
We break fast, cause we are glass."

The Door

Glistening in a gentle arch over the roadway
sparkles peeking out the corners, ten feet tall
Doorknob gold, colors swirling, curling at
the corners. Looking up, amazement, intimidation.
One side dark, gloomy, trees heaving with the weight
of the misty fog blanketing the world. Mud piles
stick on the ground, leaving no safe foot holes,
no clean steps for shoes. But while looking at the door,
and down back at the shoes, something creaked.
It was a quiet creak, a needle on the ground.
The Door, so majestic, opened
just slightly, just a crack, just enough
to see the colors beyond its domain. Greens, blues,
oranges, yellows and red. A spreading meadow,
an open blue sky. Birds chirped, crashing waves
of the ocean. Trudging from the mud, almost losing
a shoe, heading to the Door and stepping through.

Roadway to Heart

It's not through the stomach that
a man becomes a woman's.
Rather, two people are shared
by an invisible thread, unseen
but not silent. It's the beat of music
the notes transferring from one
heart to the other heart
that the connection begins,
nurtures and thrives.

It Started with a Whisper

It started with a whisper
a simple breath of air
kissed by my ear,
a silent message, a warm
chill on the skin.

It started with a whisper
as he moved closer,
leaning in, smell the rustic
cologne, the woodlands
the deep orange of dusk.

It started with a whisper
as his lips met mine,
fingers resting against jawbone
the soft pillows of plush
lips, moving with mine.

It started with a whisper
as I wished the night would
never end, little bits of endearment
in my ears, a gentle touch on
my thigh, hips, hair, hand.

It started with a whisper
and ended with a kiss.

Everybody Talks- Neon Trees

Just mixing up some seriousness with some awesome beats.

Lesson of the Heart

It was drawn on the chalkboard,
but I never paid attention.
It was scribbled in the margins,
but I never read them.
But finally, I got glasses
I looked up, sat in the front
and learned.

The equation is simple.
Person comes into life
Person serves purpose
Person leaves.

It's like the cycle of life.
You learn something from everyone
and then once you've learned,
once you've accepted the lesson,
they leave and it's done
and question number two
appears on the paper.

Something new

As the sunlight grew over the horizon
Its orange fog laid down on my shoulders
And there was something new
Something inside that the yellow gold
Injected into my skin into my veins
Through my muscles. Something
I had not felt in a long time
Something new.

Just take me

I dare you, you big black bird
pick me up with your talons
flap your feathered wings
sweep me off my feet
and just take me away

to the far off land, where no
troubles lay, no tears, no
death, no heartbreak.
Take away the blood
in my veins, inject only
a brain so I can twirl
in the wind. Leave out

the heart, for it only hurts,

but let me keep my arms and my legs
so I can dance on the tops of fluffy
clouds or slide down a rainbow.
Let me keep my fingers so I can
dip them into a pot of gold,
glistening with jewels. But carve
out the heart, chisel your initials
let drain of the red dripping liquid.

Just take me.

Battle

Mind cries no don't you dare
You're better than those tears.
It screams to stop, to get it together.

But the heart yells back yes
With its ax ready to attack
It does what it pleases.

The battle reigns on, the clang
Of chain mail and steel
And yet the tears flow
The droplets of blood from the dead.

The Reason Writers Tackle NaNo

We are doing this because we're crazy writers with a strive to do awesome things that people would only dream of doing. We are doing this because we have motivation to spend our days, drinking coffee and discovering main characters. We are doing this because through writing, we understand more about ourselves and the world around us. We are taken in by the world we have created. We meet new people, we discover traits and personalities and situations that we ourselves may never land in. 


We are doing this because we have a need. We have a need to keep on writing and keep on dreaming. We write because we have an active imagination. An imagination that cannot just stay in the mind. It has to branch out and have an outlet. 


This is why we tackle something as crazy as NaNo. Yes, it's 50,000 words in a month. Yes we go crazy on caffeine or blast music or shoo everyone away that attempts to mess up our word sprint or the sentence we were in the middle of. 


Yes, these novels may or may not actually go somewhere. Maybe it'll get published, maybe it'll be in a writing portfolio for a later class. Maybe it will just sit on our computer. But we will have accomplished something big. We will have accomplished what we set out to do. 


To all my fellow NaNoers not only in June, but in August and November, write and keep on writing. Because this is what we do best.

Revelation

There's always a risk in life,
always a cliff to almost fall
off of, or a robbery almost
to be caught in. But life
can't flash before your eyes
until you have been in the
middle of a drive by.

Something watches over us,
as a car chase turns into a crash
morphs into a gun fight
on your usual walk to work.
And after the fact, when you
realize that you were almost there
had you not taken a different path,

something stops you and makes you
begin to take in the thought of life
being so precious, so valuable,
every second. Appreciate every
little moment, every minute
of who you're with or what
you're doing. Because once you're
faced with that car chase
or the robbery or the cliff,
you'll have spent your life right.

Payphone- Maroon 5

"If "Happy Ever After" did exist,
I would still be holding you like this
All those fairy tales are full of sh*t
One more f***ing love song, I'll be sick."

Dear God

Dear God,

Sometimes, laying in bed, curled up in layers of quilts
to try and save myself from the chill of the cool summer air,
I think of the troubles in the world, and fold my hands
in a deep, personal prayer, speaking to you, God.

I pray for my family, my friends, my colleagues,
even those that have hurt me. I ask for solace
in my problems, stitches to heal my heartbreak
and to simply hand them up to you, God.

I apologize for being out of touch, I find a way
to pray on my own, without the flash, without
the organization, just you and me, because I know
I have a special place in your heart, God.

So help me to open up, let you enter with joy,
say a silent Hail Mary, a simple Our Father,
to take me higher, help me with every step
because I trust in you, my dear God.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Me

Just a Chick Flick

That chick flick, those stars on the screen
make everything look so easy. You're
Serendipity, Sleepless in Seattle,
Must Love Dogs, the Wedding Date,
27 Dresses and Leap Year.
It's all too simple.

Just a kiss, a hand hold, one
touch, one hug, one look.
It's not real, but oh how we imagine
the fairy tale, the sparks, the fireworks.
We would like to still believe
at some point in our lives,
it will pull off the curtain, off the mask
and reveal itself on its own.

Box of Cookies

That box of cookies, sitting on the counter,
so innocent yet so sweet inside, fought over
by grabbing hands, tearing at the package.

The person who had the box of cookies,
left it, abandoned on the counter, never
wanted it to begin with, so left for others

to deal with and to fight over. Each little
cookie, different than its neighbor,
a different facet of personality.

Everyone loves cookies, tries to eat and snatch
but only one can actually eat the cookie,
only one can possess its delicious taste.

The poor box of cookies, so much attention
and yet so lonely, unsure, sitting
until something good comes along.

Update!

I hope you guys are cheering because I think it's working. I am currently at 6,561 words and it's only Day 3! My goal by midnight tonight is to make the 10,000 word mark. I may be coming back to this blog before June 30 with how things are going!

Urgent Notice About Content

As a writer, I have taken on the challenge known as Camp NaNowrimo. Based off National Novel Writing Month, this challenge includes writing a 50,000 word novel in a month. It just started today, June 1, and goes until June 30. As a participant of this challenge, I will be putting all my writing focus on my story, Tossed. For my followers, that means that there will probably not be any June 2012 content. I may throw something up if I get intense inspiration for a poem, but right now, my concentration MUST be on NaNo. I hope you root me on! If interested in camp, please visit http://campnanowrimo.org.

Already, by 10 a.m. on June 1, I have written 1,226 words. It's a great start to what promises to be an amazing month. Thank you followers for understanding.