and I look and look and stare and decipher my notes. The conclusions are vague
what do my thoughts do?
As of now they lay in the crevasses of my brain and interlock and wait
To be of use and not just wallow in freshman, sophomore, junior year of college
They yearn to be heard and written and become just a little more
And I keep telling them to hold on, in a month or two…we’ll figure it out
And then the pangs of time
Hit me in the side
And curl me to the right
I should go
Need to go, because this is what I want
these credit hours and minimum wage obligations are of no use. And when I stumble and fall and have no more paper I will have this memory good or bad, but my memory not a distant story
so poetry must be now and grow and develop just as my instant thoughts and the constant pursuit of something helpful . even if its just a small thought with a little bit of courage im sure it would be worth it.
I know poetry, through dance…its got the creaky feeling when you first come back to it
It aches but two books slash practices later you get a better hold and can see how some moments suck and some are simple or beautiful…you must take all in order to appreciate the whole
How am I supposed to make this good thing last? Because I cannot seem to let it go
This awkwardness is enchanting and all I need is to be is content in this moment for moments
Lower my standards
Opposite of what my mother has said
I need to have high standards to respect
Myself and others
To be a strong individual with a punch of bricks
This is wrong with my writing
I must know that my ars poetica will crumble in death of misunderstanding
Die in translation and be
Murdered by peers and professors
Then it won’t be so bad, expect the worst and just be happy with what comes along.
I’m happy that it is sunny and eighty today. I’m happy that my sister is coming to school with me next year. I’m happy that I have a kindergarten crush. I’m happy that I’m wearing a dress today. I’m happy that my mom offered to pay for lunch. I’m happy that I didn’t find any ants in the cupboards this morning. I’m happy that Rachael just called and said she missed being cramped in a nine by fifteen room with me. I’m happy that I got my renewed sticker to put on my car. I’m happy that I dropped classical political theory to go to California for a month with Nicole. I’m happy I know Nicole. I’m happy I found a set of dinner ware with cute trees on them at the garage sale for five dollars.
And I’m happy that I now have a smug little smile on my face, knowing that it can’t be any worse…and it can only get better. But if it doesn’t get better, that’s fine too…cause its eighty and sunny outside and I’m content in just writing, writing, writing. The strokes are pattering off these flimsy keys and it sounds so chirpy.
Time to make an ethical argument!
Time to speak truth of the unnoticed!
Time to make myself a pizza bagel and pop….oh yeah!
That’s the only statement I have now.
And there is no one else in this entire building but me, so when I hear the door my mind begins to
To little dreams of me defending my body from a kidnapper with witty words of Dickinson and Whitman to soothe the mind and define the” I” to them. Or I could tell them a little fable of edson and see them drop to their shins at knoxs’ tales.
I need to practice and practice and write and write and write this damn prologue
Lower my standards…if I think of all my thoughts in a lower voice maybe that will help
(in a lower saxaphony tone)
This is already not working
I just feel like im furrowing my eyebrows
And looking unattractive for my Toshiba
La dee de de dum, hummmm nope! This sucks
Regular voice again
I know I feel high pitched and airy and birdlike
And I distract with some hairspray
Cause it sticks so hot
In nine hundred words create a prologue for your ars poetica. How do I do this? I’m not even sure I know exactly what a prologue is. My work is all
Distractions and snippets and losing interest and distractions
And what is happening right then. And small utterances that I hope you find something in, oh wait I want you to find nothing attractive, nothing cause I have no standards
…at least I am trying to silence them
The friends and enemies have been with me the entire time.
They make sense, however I wish I had more of the friends. Maybe a little more faith
I have faith I’ll finish this, I’ll finish all five thousand words…even if I don’t want to or have no sense of accomplishment
This is disturbingly fun
No I’ll get some joy of it being finished
In a non-finished roughly-to-no editing way
…no texting while writing, well it is writing…at least someone’s getting it
My roommate just told me I had that crazy
English student stir in my eyes again
It’s a form of a twitch
It hurts my head
And my shoulders curl over and I’m all of the sudden
My mouth is catching flies
And my left thigh is stinging from
This weird thing that happens when
Baby Toshiba is sitting on my lap
With no fabric between
Machine and skin
And I type to keep the fingers going
And to keep them from touching my keypad
Which is a brick
And little sentimental sayings from
Friends from home
And friends from school
And guys who should really learn to respond faster
Cause I get way
Too distracted, way too easily
This is my “English” look
According to the special education major
I should reconsider my major
Nothing rhymes with that…thankfully from the staggering amounts of knowledge I have accumulated since college, this is not necessary!
I always think I should change my major, cause I need more than just English. and politics and government is not helping my fix of more…I’m now in some sociology classes, goshhh I hope this works out…cause you know after four years you’re out on your ass and need some food
And this poem sure as hell
Aint’ gonna sell
I crush on you English.
I flirt with you English.
I like you English.
You’re frustrating me English.
I love you English.
I want to understand you English.
I love it, I’m challenged constantly, I chuck and yell too many books, and I have bouts of insanity while writing at four am, and I love it, and I want people to read it but only if I can close my eyes when they do, and I love it.
It is me for my sake.
Just start writing
Buying this notebook and the eight books for this class was completely anxiety filled. I have a tremendously indecisive personality and am terrible at buying books.
Or really good at it?
It is at the end just the feeling from the book that they’re decided on. If they’re new they have to be bound tightly and align perfectly. The pages should be untouched. There needs to be no evidence that another read so much as looked at this heaven forbid they breathed on it. Good on to the next book.
Jamie came book shopping with me and commented on want an incredibly entertaining time it was to watch me buy these books. I changed her, she bought her psych book only after careful examination.
I couldn’t even buy the Emily Dickinson one….too messy, I couldn’t do it. So tomorrow I must venture for a copy.
It needs to be pretty in a normal and regular way.
And you know once I get them, they don’t stay nicely. All my books turn dirty and torn and spilled on and are emerged in unrecognizable script of thoughts and even a grocery list at times.
I went to Target cause Alamo2 decided again to be un-respected whores and charge 3.49 for regular notebooks.
I stood in the aisle OCD-like and was shuffling through them and debating over color whispering to myself. I really didn’t want a color one. It was much too flashy, it seemed like I wanted to stand out among all the composition books….but upon closer evaluation the black books were not bendy to my standards
AHH the roommates not staying for the summer have shadily appeared and expect me to find them food? Excuse me, I’m in the middle of some hard core realization that I crazily drink too many rockstars and finally notice the childish ways of what notebooks buy…they don’t even know.
…and I chose the purple one, still have a pang of longing for the black one….but the purchase was made and ink was scratched along the first page. No return available.
I’m doing a decent job of avoiding the reading. I’m in this new partment and its pretty distracting to read. There’s no proper desk and the fan and dishwasher allow this constant gaspy noise of steam and defeat to fill my ears.
Aversion. Aversion. Distractions! Soo I have discovered that if everyone were to read my horoscope upon meeting me, we wouldn’t have to go through chatty banter and you could just understand my laziness and activity from my Gemini sign. I’ll spare you my horoscope for today.
I’m a terrible speller.
I hate people who can’t spell. Other than myself, of course.
See that’s a contradicting statement that Gemini’s are fond of. Ohh and its true that wasn’t just a fun example for the hell of it.
Reflection of class.
I nervous laugh a lot, this is my formal apology to our class. I’m sorry if it distracts you.
Now, this has been the third time Song of Myself and the first time I read it.
When I have been distracted with this post I have plunged my pen into the dry cracked earth, that resembles my dancer’s feet, instead of onto this fresh and very thought over notebook paper.
I see approximately five ants, however it is extremely possible that I miscounted seeing as my -7.5 prescription always deceives my mind.
As much as I’m trying not to, I have some expectations if at the very least or very most of myself
. I hope to be persistent and hardworking by continuing to develop my voice/s. I intend to be a presence in the class, only if and when I have something of substance or humor or of curiosity to share.
I must compel myself to keep writing and let go of what I think I should write or not write. Because all thoughts should at least count towards the word count goals for these posts. And you know, thoughts although created in my head deserve a placement in ink.
__and there I go sidetracking and not writing it out.
How silly to be typing this out and imagining the moments so close in the past.
The sun is hot and I am inappropriately dressed in jeans when some fashion of shorts is indeed necessary. My forehead is too sweaty to be attractive for the total of two people oh and one runner on the quad. And I must keeping going for quantity’s sake. For 6pm is approaching.
I expect to enjoy the class, to look forward to coming to class with hopes of discoveries small or big, even grande sized.
I expect that my classmates will display respect and trust and show forgiveness as I intend to display.
I expect to deeply incorporate summer into this class and not feel as I’m missing out by writing on poems I have no conviction of.
All I want to do is be able to rest my head down and sleep with the easy breeze that is pass by.
I know if I conquer my inability to focus I can be proud of producing work instead of pitiful pangs of laziness touching me lightly when I re read or see the grade on work.
Something that proves I know how it feels to write something surprising and insightful.
And in order to do that I know I must let go of expectations and instead turn and weaving and just be.
Whitman discovered it all and reflected so thoughtfully in Song of Myself and I find that it is suiting to start off with such a mindset in the classroom.
I must clear clear clear the mind of expectations, how difficult! I know where I must be and just can’t instantly transform, but what are the inbetween steps? Letting go and forgetting where I need to end? And enjoy this day two days before twenty years and consume , like Walt, all.
Bad and Good
Free and Difficult
Ants and Sky
it pressures every rib to collapse
takes me in
and needs me home
home when I’m turning twenty and supposed to be an adult
and I throw the comforter off from my nestling place on that couch
run back home
as soon as I hit Weber
it lets loose a strained breath
I should like it at school
and you know I do
but not just enough to leave that comfort
I swear to you its genuine
genuine is not where "friends" come down assume that you can go out on a Tuesday night cause you're turning twenty tomorrow...yaa the 21st is Thursday guys, wrong day
you know I’m decently tough
just easily aggravated
like when your parents are so thrilled your home one second but then insist on discussing financial matters....give me a break, I get it. I swear I really get it.
I don’t get how someone can shit their pants
Stephanie just told me about this kid, but its okay cause he’s a funny guy
But really he shit his pants
Behind a bush
I have something really embarrassing to say
I may or may not have just shit my pants
Oozing down his left inner leg and he really shit his pants
The school nurse needs
A teacher’s note
“I shit my pants”
Ohhhh, this happens all the time she replies
How do high schoolers shit their pants on a trip to dairy gueen?
Squat behind a bush or behind a house
Come on guys, at least pretend like you’re classy
Emily Dickinson Cento
Let’s hope this turns out adequately
The duties of the Wind are few (1137)
Is but a filament, I know, (673)
If just as soon as Breath is out (577)
And ride away (1186)
On that low Plain (1289)
With Midnight to the North of her— (721)
Is left—the Immortality—(1365)
Beyond my Boundary— (881)
There is a finished feeling (856)
Of His Authority— (724)
Nature knows as well (1139)
Each Second is the last (879)
A mighty look runs round the World (575)
Why, I will lend until just then (134)
The Apple on the Tree (239)
And lily tubes—like Wells (247)
Until Death touches it (491)
With half a smile, and half a spurn, (511)
The Robin is the One (828)
Of the Seasons and the Sun (839)
To own the Art within the Soul (855)
Distinguished for the gravity (892)
Of Indigo and Brown— (1465)
Would scarcely cause one to suspect (1058)
The first Day’s Night had come— (410)
True, like the Tomb (408)
Invigorated, waded (1211)
He is new and high— (1213)
Now that she was gone— (1219)
The spirit never shows. (1225)
And drew away (1237)
Assuredly will lie (1246)
In any forest stirred (1259)
Confronting us again! (1274)
In this short life (1287)
Go slow, my soul, to feed thyself (1297)
Recollect the Face of me (1305)
That she could not forgive (1321)
A wave of Gold— (204)
Is it always pleasant—there— (215)
Teasing the want— (253)
Then, I am ready to go! (279)
Better to be ready— (373)
Where be the Haze— (386)
A horror so refined (401)
Not all the Snows could make it white (411)
From every Human Heart (911)
I asked Humility (1502)
And while by standing on my Heart (1507)
I envy Light—that wakes Him— (498)
His own was ampler—but as I (308)
Sweet plea— (200)
Our talk, our books (196)
She carried books (205)
This book of birds I loved (137)
can’t haul (264)
Isn’t it funny (141)
The make-believe of prayer, (90)
Such things they plant around my head. (121)
Tell em to take my bare walls down (291)
At night collapse occurs (136)
They floodlight it— (207)
The leaves most brilliant
As do trees
When they’ve no need (253)
You with sea water running
In your veins sit down in water (268)
Soft still-water twilight (154)
O let’s glee glow as we go (85)
Continue after the mind is blown. (138)
Maples to swing from (265)
Not built by brute force (299)
My drinking man (230)
Whom I love? (201)
I’ve wasted my whole life in water. (107)
Heat is within (42)
Green, prickly humanity— (147)
Unlearned in all but soot, (126)
My friend tree (186)
One for home (266)
A long dream to unroll (292)
As I paint the street (198)
May you have lumps in your mashed potatoes (149)
And that’ll be the end of J.E. Thorp (115)
Troubles to win (85)
Because you’ve brought
Your violin (141)
For heaven’s sake, dear, Cory, (203)
How much less am I
In the dark than they? (267)
The chemist creates (224)
The very veery (240)
Reason explodes. Atomic split (125)
And now my stove’s too empty (96)
Moving thru a field (164)
Suddenly stops (203)
In every part of every living thing (232)
My daughters left home (165)
I’d sit on a quiet fence (131)
People should know (80)
Effort lay in us (267)
We’d have danced (220)
I lay down
With brilliance (204)
This is my mew (167)
July, waxwings (174)
Glow-apricot red-brown (234)
What cause have you (240)
I too live hot before the final flash (162)
Notes and knowledge from utterances of English 284
Shall I bless or brake you
Estrange and de-familiarize
Love what is-the truth
Don’t be overly cautious
Be fond of writing
Can’t rely on the ups, cause that’s when you get into the hard stuff
Characterize the poems
Is likely a vampire”
You get lost,
It’s a rule”
Just keep writing
The pebble turned and folded into a worm
When I peered over my right shoulder I watched it take a nap
My sneezes are
Much too much
They make my eyes water
The skol is of permanent residence under the sink
it doesn’t concern me that the glass is always full of boxed wine either
Shes strong but terribly silent and cold when she finds necessary
And some say shes not happy, sometimes I think that’s true
But it should be false..she seems to be content with us, but not with him
And I guess the him is a problem if the us leave
……..two Normal then and again
I really need ice cream
my self-restraint is saintly
im saving the money for tequila
which will make me a better person
and therefore still saintly
“leap and the net will appear” –Jason Mraz
two lawn chairs
and sarcastic, seemingly untrustworthy, beautiful individuals
The ice rolled its shoulders and sighed
Were going to get ice cream
Im unnaturally happy about this
And not in the least concerned about the repercussion
On my body and my checking account
…actually slightly concerned bout the checking account
More like really
But ice cream with Kristen will make me happy
And I want to be happy
Theres a caterpillar in my soup
You’re a charming cucumber
Because Kristen wants a poem
Guacamole and homework
Codine and ice cream
You share some secrets, but keep the really good
You know the one on my neck?
We let the plant die
Youre adorably sincere and cook me sweet food
And you eat green onions by themselves
We smoke by the lake which is soo creative
And you take halfsies while I take wholesies
I helped you wash your feet and you let me have strange visitors
You quote nice things about hope and love
And they truly make me smile very sweetly
You say youre concerned that there is more alcohol than food, psh were good
And you work too much, and don’t get to play
Unless were singing in the car to tunes that go
In a country direction
Even though youre central
I like our central air unit
And I like being friends
When I dance sometimes
I don’t find that rush
Disappointment in so
I don’t get why
Is it because I didn’t stretch enough?
Or is it cause I should just stop
This isn’t elementary school
Tell me if I suck
I can take it
Cause this must be the reason why
I’m not feeling the pull
And pressure on my feet
That kiss the floor with every sweep
And I don’t wait that long
For the music to breathe
This must be it,
Dance is over?
Patience is a nuisance
Because what good is it later when I need it now
1 I am impatient
2 why are you impatient?
3 I would just say “fuck you”
3 maybe it’s the meds
3 maybe stop being an asshole is more appropriate?
1 because I want to hear from you without having to ask?
im sitting in my empty apartment
on my bed
surrounded my tissue paper of various shades
listening to bushwalla
sippin on some hazelnut coffee.....venti
inhaling wayy too much Mod Podge
I didn’t wake up for class today
unemployment is treating me well
You’re so breakable and cute
and loving and praiseful
and difficult and beautiful
and frustrated in an adorable way
that earwax is still stuck in your ears
and I cant seem to hear
what you’re complaining about
this sun is cold if you want it to be
just listen to me and all my stories
of endless and supposed realities
they’re stupid and pointless but the melody
will calm you
let it calm you and your intense worries
if you tread on this for too long
itll raise the strands of carpet from electricity
you need simplicity
Little girl what do you wanna do?
Emelia, what is my name?
Littttle girl, little girl
No that’s not my name
Sweetie, honey? Little girl lets go
I refuse to go until you say my name
Do I look little Emelia?
Yes, youre a cute little girl
Fine……but im Auntie Kelly, at least get Kelly
I will throw down right now
I fucking planted all the flowers on isu’s campus, you know it
Those are tulips not roses
Your jokes suck
And it’s the regret I promised to never have
That presses my ribs and twists my shoulders
And I need to leave
To distract from the reality
Those glasses can only shade
Into your lies
Ur not a good person
And “ur” is not real
Lovebug, lets text all day
Get married and pour glitter on our lives
And coffee and maybe find a water bong
And make sure to ruin any future careers
We may desire to have in
Not poetry but useful for my tv habit
I can see you through the air conditioner unit
Peek in when I turn around
Sneak, sneak, hide
This lady is stuffing a live rat into her mouth
Maybe she is hungry
You are a little cucumber
So crispy with fresh!
Endearing in a misunderstood way
Don’t come to me
Stay your distance, just whisper to me
I miss you
Want to hold you to my clavicle
Until this year I just thought I had the worst luck with catching colds..turns out I have what some call allergies
Get some color on those legs
Your success from the scandals
Disgusting and intriguing
We drive, drive, fly
Away from this comfort
Its childish and lovely
My shoulders breathe
Incline toward the sound
Tilt and taste the shine
Through those skimpy windows
Your vision is skewed
What is a friend to you
Tapped with kegs of emotion
And sips of honesty eh?
And you speak of money as if it is necessary to be happy
Fuck it, I know
Its naïve but Dad
I love you for being
Not for your income
At this moment
You’re not happy
I see it when you look relieved that im home
And just display anger when I leave and the family isn’t together again
At this moment you are not happy
And you can’t be
So am i
Breath and sight
Find one thing everyday that makes you laugh and cry
Love living for family
Don’t worry bout these numbers
It won’t be there in the dust and ashes
Or in the sun and fluff
But I can
Hit in the head again and again
Sand in my eyes
And the fireball of seven is wolverine
First days of elementary care
For an everyday hero,
Im sorry I never got you a crush can in highschool
But we’ve moved on to rockstar…I owe ya one
With a set of lawn chairs in your driveway
“yeah for sure..ill see you in like 5 hours…
Ill go buy some yarn
And rockstars and of course have some Dylan in the background
With some kanye
For good measure”
How bout we kidnap matt who always needs a taco in his mouff
And lets talk about boys and lets talk about girls
And the little apartment with the money pit
So Megan and I don’t starve…
Until the day is gone and the night
Not quite here
And im not sure if you hear it, know it cause sometimes
and mostly people
get in the way
they get in our god damn way
I get it, and you got it too…just needs a little push
A little cali perhaps?
And you told me
“you are the best friend a girl could ask for. And SPECIAL…god please never believe you are anything but special and someone who deserves Jewel not Dominicks, AMC not Seven Bridges, and an iced Americano not bp w/creamer.”
Nicole, babe, neighbor, you’re a genuine friend…when I talk to you I don’t feel crazy
But if I do, its cool cause that makes us awkwardly adorable right?
and you’re fucking special too
cause you deserve flannel and not just stripes
rockstar not monster
California not summer school
Naperville not Lisle
And Nicole you deserve happiness
Happiness at any cost
Some friends might have to disappear for that
And some difficult decisions might
Have to be made
And at night its not gonna get easier
But when we wake up and go to friedenhagen with some coffee
It’ll look a little fresher
And a little less fake
And that’s peaceful and sweet isn’t it?
It’s a high pollen day,
So I take a pm allergy medicine
And as I begin to tingle and loosen my fingers start jittering
And all of the sudden its like im drunk texting
I already know I’ll regret this in the am
And I enjoy the craziness that exudes from my life
Yes I know that I can switch to fiery
Within a breath
Blame it on my Gemini status
I know that my glasses are
Never quite clean
And never quite straight
I love when you kiss my forehead
But I can I say love?
Ohhh Jason Mraz why do I love your music soo much
“Would it take a bakers dozen to get my point to you?
Would it take a half a pound to roll a joint for you
Would it take some hailing mary's so full of grace to get my sound to you
Will you help me break it down and get on thru”
And folding blankets
Brush the sink
And close the blinds
Push those buttons one more
When the gems broke in halves by the riverside
The bees continued to interrupt with their belches
The shoelaces keep humming
If the box could only go left
If I could ever get to five thousand words
Please I’m so close
Not quite the end
Poetry for poetry’s sake
How can I do that within the last lines of this?
And I strain for something
That grasp of words
And I’m falling oh so short
But I know I can conquer this dissatisfaction
Cause as long as it is good and done
And I keep writing
These lines are narrative
And so sincere
I want it to flow off the paper and
Into a head
And with a little faith
One word may
And push what I must achieve
For writing is what I enjoy
And the act of this has
Continued to surprise