It claws at my heart
eyes flashing copper
teeth bared, tearing
its way through vein.
Black fur patches
a warm cloak blanketing
thirsty for the thick
dark taste of blood.
I can't control it,
the need to run,
the urge to explode
and fight with terror.
It's stronger than the wind,
more fierce than the storm
as my heart beats
from my chest.
I am the wolf,
the alpha female,
the one not to be
tempered with.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Ten Minute Plays
I will be offering ten free reads of my first 10 minute play, Baby Daddy. Those who are interested in a free trial of my plays, can email me at kschroyer5@gmail.com. I will only be taking ten people. After that and once I have a compilation of works, I will be looking to offer the content through Amazon Books or something along those lines. So if you'd like a free glance at my first play, do email me!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
The Corner Booth
The blue seats, the silver counter glistening
as you walk me in. Seated in the corner booth
you against the window, menus waiting.
We glance over the menus at each other,
a quick smile as we both order waters.
Heartbeat racing beat by beat yet you
and I are so natural in our element.
You in your Carhartt, me in my boots,
we share a plate of gravy fries,
one of your favorites.
But we pay no attention to the food,
plates don't matter as the conversation
flows, smiles exchanged, you hand
me the keys as you pay the check
as we hop into your gold Chevy Blazer.
Cruising on by, country music
blaring from the speakers,
it's so surreal and so perfect
as your hand rest on the center console,
mine next to it as you take it in yours.
You drive one handed, squeezing
my hand tight, I breathe a happy
sigh of perfection as you pull up
to my apartment. Unbuckling seatbelts
we go for the kiss and the rest
is history.
as you walk me in. Seated in the corner booth
you against the window, menus waiting.
We glance over the menus at each other,
a quick smile as we both order waters.
Heartbeat racing beat by beat yet you
and I are so natural in our element.
You in your Carhartt, me in my boots,
we share a plate of gravy fries,
one of your favorites.
But we pay no attention to the food,
plates don't matter as the conversation
flows, smiles exchanged, you hand
me the keys as you pay the check
as we hop into your gold Chevy Blazer.
Cruising on by, country music
blaring from the speakers,
it's so surreal and so perfect
as your hand rest on the center console,
mine next to it as you take it in yours.
You drive one handed, squeezing
my hand tight, I breathe a happy
sigh of perfection as you pull up
to my apartment. Unbuckling seatbelts
we go for the kiss and the rest
is history.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
The Market for Pretty Underwear
(This is more of a discussion post than poem.)
When some girls look at Victoria's Secret, they see a store solely built on selling sex. The lace thongs, the pushed up bras and the silky nighties draw in the eye. However, a store like this does not truly exist for the purpose of pleasing men. Yes, the things they sell will get a man going wild, however there is more than meets the eye.
When a girl or woman slips on something lace or something cute, they feel better about themselves. It doesn't matter if they're wearing a sexy little black dress or being a bum in yoga pants and an oversized hoodie. Take my outfit for today for example. I've got on a skinny pair of black yoga pants, tall boots and my big warm purple Alpha Phi Omega hoodie. I'm a bum, but I don't feel like it. I'm confident and pretty and one of those reasons is because under, I've got a sexy little bra and cute underwear. I just feel better about the whole ensemble.
Stores can come across as however they want, but whether they mean it or not, they really do sell more than just sex. Yes, maybe it's a bit convoluted. Maybe the marketing schemes can get a bit extreme with the sex part or it's just convoluted that it takes something like a pair of pretty underwear to make a girl feel good. The important thing is that it does. It helps rebuild a woman's confidence and self esteem when she can look in the mirror and say "I'm beautiful" or "I feel sexy today."
When some girls look at Victoria's Secret, they see a store solely built on selling sex. The lace thongs, the pushed up bras and the silky nighties draw in the eye. However, a store like this does not truly exist for the purpose of pleasing men. Yes, the things they sell will get a man going wild, however there is more than meets the eye.
When a girl or woman slips on something lace or something cute, they feel better about themselves. It doesn't matter if they're wearing a sexy little black dress or being a bum in yoga pants and an oversized hoodie. Take my outfit for today for example. I've got on a skinny pair of black yoga pants, tall boots and my big warm purple Alpha Phi Omega hoodie. I'm a bum, but I don't feel like it. I'm confident and pretty and one of those reasons is because under, I've got a sexy little bra and cute underwear. I just feel better about the whole ensemble.
Stores can come across as however they want, but whether they mean it or not, they really do sell more than just sex. Yes, maybe it's a bit convoluted. Maybe the marketing schemes can get a bit extreme with the sex part or it's just convoluted that it takes something like a pair of pretty underwear to make a girl feel good. The important thing is that it does. It helps rebuild a woman's confidence and self esteem when she can look in the mirror and say "I'm beautiful" or "I feel sexy today."
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Whispers
She started the whispers
when her lips parted
and out came a cloud
of red and black smoke.
The trail flowed out
of those lips and into ears
dropping a bit here
and a bit there.
The smoke began to disperse
losing its power but sticking
in the ears of where it caught,
jumbled and confused.
She left, her lips taking her
in another direction,
but the cloud still remained
and the whispers lived.
when her lips parted
and out came a cloud
of red and black smoke.
The trail flowed out
of those lips and into ears
dropping a bit here
and a bit there.
The smoke began to disperse
losing its power but sticking
in the ears of where it caught,
jumbled and confused.
She left, her lips taking her
in another direction,
but the cloud still remained
and the whispers lived.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Brothership
I know in a previous post I wrote about my new family, the wonderful Alpha Phi Omega brothers. Well, as of November 11, 2012, I became a full fledged brother! ΑΦΩ is my amazing family and I could not ask for a better senior year. As far as a fall semester goes, this semester has been one of the best.
It's not just the friends and family. It's the excitement, the joy, the will to want to help the community and work together. It's the leadership each person takes on and the values we exemplify. ΑΦΩ is more than just the typical fraternity stereotype. We aren't "buying" friends. We don't just party. We work hard and we do things that matter.
We have pride. We have pride in our organization and our morals. We have pride in the values that our fraternity stands for. When I wear my letters, I wear them proudly because I am more than proud to be in ΑΦΩ.
It's not just the friends and family. It's the excitement, the joy, the will to want to help the community and work together. It's the leadership each person takes on and the values we exemplify. ΑΦΩ is more than just the typical fraternity stereotype. We aren't "buying" friends. We don't just party. We work hard and we do things that matter.
We have pride. We have pride in our organization and our morals. We have pride in the values that our fraternity stands for. When I wear my letters, I wear them proudly because I am more than proud to be in ΑΦΩ.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Concrete Dreams
At night, when I lay down my head, I lay on concrete.
I lay on the strips of white crosswalk, the curbs
of the city. My mind is filled with the magnificance
of towers, small spats of green. Pictures flash
under my closed lids, splatters of blurred
car lights. Ears fill with the sirens of a police
car rushing by, the honks of horns.
In the waking daylight, these dreams exist
as I step off the concrete curb onto the street,
heels clicking on the pavement below.
I look up and I am a dwarf to the skyscrapers.
Hand flies up, flagging a cab and slipping inside.
It may not be all glorious, but it is my life.
I dreamed bigger than just the rolling cascading hills,
the stretches of tobacco fields. I dreamed as high
as the skyscrapers above. I dreamed and I will succeed
my concrete dreams.
I lay on the strips of white crosswalk, the curbs
of the city. My mind is filled with the magnificance
of towers, small spats of green. Pictures flash
under my closed lids, splatters of blurred
car lights. Ears fill with the sirens of a police
car rushing by, the honks of horns.
In the waking daylight, these dreams exist
as I step off the concrete curb onto the street,
heels clicking on the pavement below.
I look up and I am a dwarf to the skyscrapers.
Hand flies up, flagging a cab and slipping inside.
It may not be all glorious, but it is my life.
I dreamed bigger than just the rolling cascading hills,
the stretches of tobacco fields. I dreamed as high
as the skyscrapers above. I dreamed and I will succeed
my concrete dreams.
Monday, November 5, 2012
City
There's just something about the yellow cabs
the roar of the street, the blink of the crosswalk,
heels clicking on concrete, the neon lights,
people rushing by, subway doors closing,
the strip of sun on the platform, buildings
towering overhead, the smell of car exhaust,
the dart across the street, slipping into
rotating doors, boxes called elevators.
I don't expect them to understand
how I would take the hustle and bustle
over the quiet roll of hills and the dull
cruises across fields and slow drives
to work. It's hard to explain
to people so wrapped up
in their little lives that the city
is where I belong. I belong
among the fashion magazines
and skyscrapers. New York Times
and Wall St. I like the sleepy towns
but under the spotlight is what I love.
the roar of the street, the blink of the crosswalk,
heels clicking on concrete, the neon lights,
people rushing by, subway doors closing,
the strip of sun on the platform, buildings
towering overhead, the smell of car exhaust,
the dart across the street, slipping into
rotating doors, boxes called elevators.
I don't expect them to understand
how I would take the hustle and bustle
over the quiet roll of hills and the dull
cruises across fields and slow drives
to work. It's hard to explain
to people so wrapped up
in their little lives that the city
is where I belong. I belong
among the fashion magazines
and skyscrapers. New York Times
and Wall St. I like the sleepy towns
but under the spotlight is what I love.
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