The Audience

The audience is one and as one, the audience reacts to everything.  Every movement, every facial expression.  Nothing can be hidden from its all-absorbing eye. 

My Love Song To You

I just want to know,
Do you like Disney?
Are you my fairytale?
Do you have a glass slipper,
Or maybe a horse, white as snow.

I'll be a house maid, you'll be charming
I'll be sweepin floors and you'll sweep me off my feet
I'll be distressed, you'll be in armor
I'll be poor as dirt, your proposal will be alarming

You'll be my prince, I'll be your princess
A cardboard box will be a castle
As long as I have you

No matter how long it takes,
I'll be waiting for you
It's never to late to
Come around the corner,
Come around the bend
I'll be waiting for you until the world ends

I Love You

I love you to the end of the earth and back.  To the skies and the Heavens above.  Between rivers and in the depths of crevices, you will always find my love for you.

Track Meet

 Author's Note: Super old piece! It's not that great of a piece, but I still wanted to post it.

She yawned and rested her head against the back of the bus seat. It had been a long day, and the track meet had been cold and windy. Melody was comfortable now, though, cross-legged and barefoot.

Gazing out the window, she watched as the bus's flashing light strobe-lighted the dark night, giving glimpses of forests and fields.  It was peaceful as she sat there, listening to the soft murmur of voices as she ate her pretzel chips. 

I'm Done With You

How do you describe our love?

tattered
windblown
enduring
repaired
hanging on by a thread

How do you describe our love?

a waste of time?
worthless?
meaningless?!

If our time together was so worthless, then why are you wasting your breath talking about it?!  Go back in the well that you crawled out of. Stay in the darkness, I don't ever want the same sun touching both our faces with light ever again. I'm done with you.

Summer

Everyone is looking forward to summer, the heat, the tan, the freedom. Summer's great, don't get me wrong, but transitioning from spring to summer, not so great. All I'm getting right now is a sun burn,allergies, frizzy hair from the humidity, and a stressful reminder of how soon all of my projects need to be done. Come quick summer and put a stop to this weather that feels like a not-quite-dry blanket, fresh out of the dryer. This weather is suffocating me!

The Wishes and Kisses of Mister and Misses

The first wish of Mr. was to meet Mrs.

The first kiss of Mrs.was with Mr.

The first wish of Mrs, was to be married to Mr.

The second kiss of Mr. was after a proposal

The second wish of Mr. was to have a son

The third kiss of Mrs. was after a trip to the doctor

The second wish of Mrs. was for eight months to pass quickly

The fourth kiss of Mr. was after six hours of hand-squeezing

The third wish of Mr. was for him to be the best father for his son

The fifth kiss of Mrs.was late at night, after cleaning up her sons graduation party

The fourth wish of Mrs. was for her son to come home often during college

The sixth kiss of Mr. was after their son never did, for four years

The fourth wish of Mr. was for his son to leave again after he came home and upset his mother

The seventh kiss of Mrs. was on the forehead and through tears when their son jumped off a building

The fifth wish of Mrs. was for her and Mr. to join their son in Heaven

The eighth kiss of Mr. was with Mrs. as they lay old in their bed, ready to welcome death

The fifth wish of Mr. was to not lose Mrs. in the extensive land of the afterlife

The ninth kiss of Mrs. was when she stood next to Mr., observing the vastness of Heaven

The sixth wish of Mrs. was to reconnect with her son

The tenth kiss of Mr. and Mrs. was on their sons forehead,  during a tight embrace

The sixth wish of Mr. was for the past to be forgotten

The eleventh kiss of Mrs. was when everyone lost count and let go of bothersome memories

The last wish of Mr. and Mrs. was for everyone to have a just as happy, if not happier, ending as theirs.

My cup was half-filled with happy, half-filled with sad. You added your own unhappiness to my cup and it spilled over the brim. The water trailed down the glass and pooled onto the table.

My tears slipped past my eyelids and trailed down my cheeks, onto your shoulder. You have chosen to add your pain to my sadness. So I sit here with you, my friend, and we wallow together.

My heart is bleeding. I am trying to rip your piece out of my heart, but I don't have the strength to. I don't entirely want to let you go.Every time I think of you, a dull ache arises from my chest. A constant reminder of what could have been. So I ask you. It is worth the pain?

Josephine Jacobsen

When you think of a poet, who do you think of? The answer tends to be Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Frost, E. E. Cummings, or Maya Angelou. Many people will jabber on and on about how they love their works, but being a true lover of poetry means you don't just only read the classics, but you also look for other poetry that should be considered a classic, but was unfortunate enough to get left behind. It seems that there was not room for Josephine Jacobsen and her works in the spotlight, so they got pushed into the shadows.

Jacobsen's works tend to have a Spanish inspiration behind them, and simple, but perfect, lines within. Rainy Night at the Writers' Colony is my favorite piece of hers simply because of one line. The reason why this one line gets to me and echoes in my head for days after I read the poem is not known to me. But I do know that every once in a while, we hear a question that makes us think so hard that it leaves us speechless. This is one of those lines: "What do we say worth the while of the ears of the dead?" Many of you may be quick to answer, most of you will not care. Yet I dwell on the question.

Though my favorite Jacobsen piece will always be Rainy Night at the Writers' Colony, I think It Is the Season should also be considered a classic. Jacobsen speaks of the changing of the seasons, and us with it. She talks about how we know the change will come, and we rehearse our goodbyes, and yet we are shocked to have to welcome the new.

Surely the other poets could scoot over a little to make room for one more. Josephine Jacobsen deserves that bright light just as much as the other poets do. Her pieces are no less great, no less inspiring or intriguing.  Though people are stubborn and don't take well to ideas that are not their own. Perhaps I will have to be satisfied with just knowing that I put her center stage. Even a good play will not have a big audience if there was bad advertisement.

I only want to be with you
I only want to be in your arms
Only when I'm around you, do I feel safe from harm

Here we are, preparing to be forever damned to hell
Yet, with you, all I think of is freedom.

Our love is our strength and
Love is not something that they can take away
So we shall never break, our steps will never falter, and our fates will forever be intertwined.

Comparing "The Birds" with "At Least It Wasn't Me"

In each poem, the main character is eager to sacrifice others, but when it comes to sacrificing themselves, they are not so excited.  However, in "The Birds", he knows everyone will have to die eventually, but in "At Least It Wasn't Me",  the main character thinks Death only wants one soul, and then he realizes that Death wants another.  He realizes that everything that he just did to the first sacrifice will probably happen to him.

The message that these poems are sending is that you shouldn't be so quick to throw someone else under the bus.  If you did something bad, don't blame someone else.  It will only delay you getting caught and you will just get in even more trouble for not being truthful in the first place.

Death and the birds are blame. They take all the sacrifices until they get the person that is sacrificing everyone else. Blame will keep taking victims until it catches the culprit. 

So be honest my children. Because if you're not... Death will take you as its next victim and birds will feast on your lifeless corpse! *Insert evil laugh*

Cliffhanger

Author's Note: Not the best story, but I like the last line.

"Sara! Come back!" Josh called after her. She simply giggled and kept running. Sighing, he ran after her. She broke through the edge of the trees and he tackled her to the ground. "Are you really going to run off every time I try to kiss you?"
"Maybe." She replied, ducking away from him and running off again.
Man, this girl is taking playing hard to get to a whole new level, he thought.
Oh, no! She's getting close to the cliff! 
"Sara! Stop! You're getting too close to the cliff!"
She couldn't hear him. "What?" She turned her head back to look at him, but kept running.
He sucked in a sharp breath. He knew what was going to happen, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. She fell off the cliff and his whole world fell with her.