My world is crashing,
Colliding and falling.
It was upon a pedastal,
But now lies at my feet.
Broken to pieces,
Smoking and smoldering,
Not sparkling.
As it burnt,
but did not shine.
I want to pick up the pieces,
As I walk away.
Away from the heat and coals,
and on to a new day.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Just a rambling of sorts.
Update! I haven't been writing too much. I'm not sure why. Photography has become my creative outlet I suppose. Since graduation, in May, the night before last was the first time I've picked up a pen. I wrote 5 poems. It felt good to get them out, but only one of which I actually was like, well hmm..that's ok I guess. haha. I've been preoccupied with life, but am heading into the direction of where I need to be. Maybe, sudden fiction? I like that. I might start writing some in that genre. Personal Essays were my style, but I can't bring myself to write any thing worth reading nowadays. Time for a change. Here's what I got for now....
I have been through hell.
Like a passing through.
I've touched the ashes,
walked the embers.
I have seen the people,
with the darkest eyes,
and darker hearts.
I am neither here, nor there,
In a haze of grey.
Like a neutral ground.
Patiently waiting.
From a glance,
My eyes are white.
They stare back at me,
As white as the fallen snow.
I'm on my way now,
Well on my way now.
I have been through hell.
Like a passing through.
I've touched the ashes,
walked the embers.
I have seen the people,
with the darkest eyes,
and darker hearts.
I am neither here, nor there,
In a haze of grey.
Like a neutral ground.
Patiently waiting.
From a glance,
My eyes are white.
They stare back at me,
As white as the fallen snow.
I'm on my way now,
Well on my way now.
Friday, April 24, 2009
GRADUATION ESSAY
((for our graduation, us graduates have to write an essay, and then the entire thing will be read out loud by faculty, while we face the audience. So here's mine. I wanna know, does it reflect who I am or what??))
Attending Chatfield has been a wonderful experience. I appreciated the small campus, and intimate atmosphere. I would like to thank the faculty and staff for making my college experience a memorable, enlightening, challenging, and enjoyable one. I would like to give a special thanks to Pam Spencer and Sue Hamann for recognizing a diamond in the rough, and making me into the writer that I am today. I appreciate your love of the English language. Most of all I am grateful for your guidance and support.
I would like to thank my family for all of their support. Thank you to my parents for all of their loving encouragement. I owe my husband, Ryan a tremendous thank you for all of his love and support. I also want to apologize for all the times I was stressed about school, and took it out on you. Thanks for bearing with me, and sticking it out.
Finally I’d like to say thanks to all of my awesome friends! You all know who you are! Some of you are here, and some are not. I have to say though, without you’re friendship, laughter, and craziness, I may not be here today. I love each and every one of you all for such different reasons. I’m not saying goodbye, just thanks for helping me get past this hurdle in my life, and let’s go on to another.
Audrey Hepburn once said, “A quality education has the power to transform societies in a single generation, provide children with the protection they need from the hazards of poverty, labor exploitation and disease, and given them the knowledge, skills, and confidence to reach their full potential.” So, thanks to everyone at Chatfield College for helping prepare me to move on not only in academia, but in life. Peace, I’m out!
Attending Chatfield has been a wonderful experience. I appreciated the small campus, and intimate atmosphere. I would like to thank the faculty and staff for making my college experience a memorable, enlightening, challenging, and enjoyable one. I would like to give a special thanks to Pam Spencer and Sue Hamann for recognizing a diamond in the rough, and making me into the writer that I am today. I appreciate your love of the English language. Most of all I am grateful for your guidance and support.
I would like to thank my family for all of their support. Thank you to my parents for all of their loving encouragement. I owe my husband, Ryan a tremendous thank you for all of his love and support. I also want to apologize for all the times I was stressed about school, and took it out on you. Thanks for bearing with me, and sticking it out.
Finally I’d like to say thanks to all of my awesome friends! You all know who you are! Some of you are here, and some are not. I have to say though, without you’re friendship, laughter, and craziness, I may not be here today. I love each and every one of you all for such different reasons. I’m not saying goodbye, just thanks for helping me get past this hurdle in my life, and let’s go on to another.
Audrey Hepburn once said, “A quality education has the power to transform societies in a single generation, provide children with the protection they need from the hazards of poverty, labor exploitation and disease, and given them the knowledge, skills, and confidence to reach their full potential.” So, thanks to everyone at Chatfield College for helping prepare me to move on not only in academia, but in life. Peace, I’m out!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Nothing, Everything
Nothing is as beautiful
As she.
Wavy hair,
Delicate skin.
Nothing is as elegant
As she.
Soft voice,
Graceful walk.
Nothing is as proud
As she.
Profound confidence,
Straight stance.
Everything that she is
I wish to be.
As she.
Wavy hair,
Delicate skin.
Nothing is as elegant
As she.
Soft voice,
Graceful walk.
Nothing is as proud
As she.
Profound confidence,
Straight stance.
Everything that she is
I wish to be.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Landslide
If there is just one thing I want you to know it’s that we are more alike than anyone could ever imagine. We know we can climb mountains, if not climb them, then we can surely move them. We know to take most things with a grain of salt. We know how to tell the character of a man, by the way he looks--if it’s at the ground, that’s not good, if it’s in your eyes, that’s just a start. We know the cost of love. We know the cost of addiction. We know we can’t run away, but we can walk away for some breathing room. We know we have a temper, and people don’t deserve what we sometimes do or say. We also know that if they can’t take us at our worst, they don’t deserve our best. We know that you can break a man’s back, but not his pride, and definitely not his spirit. We know the good ones die young, so you can afford to be a little bad. We can’t believe in luck, just fate; if we believed in luck, we’d have nothing but the worst of it. We know there are the cars you drive, the cars you love to drive, and the cars you live to drive. We know good music, and if it has a guitar, it’s probably worth listening to. We know you can never give up on a dream. We know failure only makes you appreciate your success. We know we can only be ourselves, and nothing anyone else wants us to be. We know we can build our world up, and a landslide can bring it down.
Since I was a little girl, I can remember being “daddy’s little girl“. I remember hearing: “let her do what she wants”, “let her get what she wants”, “let her wear what she wants”, “What do you want? That’s all?”, and “You can be anything you want to be!” I remember all of those little sayings that may have been insignificant to you, but they meant the world to me.
I remember whatever I did, no matter what, it always seemed to amaze you. I’m not sure if that was an act, or if I really stole your admiration. Whether I wanted to be a fashion designer, and put on a fashion show of old clothing items I’d collected to bobby-pin and paper-clip together. A pro BMX bike rider, and used my pink and purple bike just to pop a small wheelie, and ride with no hands for a millisecond. Whether I wanted to be a surgeon, and played a mean game of Operation. Or an Olympic ice skater, and rolled around on your hard wood floors trying to do triple axles. Whether I wanted to be a professional fisher-woman, and had to have that $200 pole, just to fall asleep in my chair. Or a restaurant owner, and would demand you order something, even when you were too busy. You always went along with me, for whatever adventure I was up for. You would smile and say, “Yep! That’d be perfect for you! You can be anything you want to be.” I also remember you saying, “This is my little one, she’s going to be something. It will change again tomorrow, but she’s going to be something someday.” You stressed that word so hard, something, like it didn’t matter what it was, but it was going to make you the proudest father in the whole world.
I believe because of you and your willingness to let me be whoever I wanted to be, wear what I wanted to wear, and do whatever struck my interest, that you made me who I am today. I’m still the same, I easily pick up new things to try on for size. If I don’t like them, well then it was an exploration, and if I do, then it’s probably going to be a part of my career. I’m everything I want to be, and not anything anyone else.
If there is one other thing I could tell you, it’s a reply to the statement you made right before you walked me down the aisle, “If you get a divorce, I’m gonna kill you.” I think this might ease your mind, I won’t get a divorce, Dad. I won’t get a divorce because I found the one man that can stand up to me, the person you help create. He can easily look a person in the eye. He never sugar coats, and he takes things with a grain of salt. He knows a mountain isn’t immovable. He has a temper, and he knows people don’t always deserve what he does or says. He knows not to bank on luck, and that it‘s ok to be a little bad sometimes. He knows a wicked ride when he sees one, and what powers it, and he’s actively looking for that car he lives to drive. He even knows good music! But, most of all he lets me just be me. He let’s me pick things up just to try them on for size, and always says “Yep, that‘d be good for you.” I have his full support, and unconditional love, just like another man I know. I hope that eases your mind, because it eases mine.
So, this one’s for you daddy--I want to be a writer, a photographer, a yoga instructor, a professor, a mechanic, and the best daughter, wife, mother, and woman I could ever be. You taught me what to know, and what to throw out with the trash. You helped me be confident in myself, and all of my work. You taught me to appreciate my world I built, and to know that at any moment, a landslide could bring it down.
Since I was a little girl, I can remember being “daddy’s little girl“. I remember hearing: “let her do what she wants”, “let her get what she wants”, “let her wear what she wants”, “What do you want? That’s all?”, and “You can be anything you want to be!” I remember all of those little sayings that may have been insignificant to you, but they meant the world to me.
I remember whatever I did, no matter what, it always seemed to amaze you. I’m not sure if that was an act, or if I really stole your admiration. Whether I wanted to be a fashion designer, and put on a fashion show of old clothing items I’d collected to bobby-pin and paper-clip together. A pro BMX bike rider, and used my pink and purple bike just to pop a small wheelie, and ride with no hands for a millisecond. Whether I wanted to be a surgeon, and played a mean game of Operation. Or an Olympic ice skater, and rolled around on your hard wood floors trying to do triple axles. Whether I wanted to be a professional fisher-woman, and had to have that $200 pole, just to fall asleep in my chair. Or a restaurant owner, and would demand you order something, even when you were too busy. You always went along with me, for whatever adventure I was up for. You would smile and say, “Yep! That’d be perfect for you! You can be anything you want to be.” I also remember you saying, “This is my little one, she’s going to be something. It will change again tomorrow, but she’s going to be something someday.” You stressed that word so hard, something, like it didn’t matter what it was, but it was going to make you the proudest father in the whole world.
I believe because of you and your willingness to let me be whoever I wanted to be, wear what I wanted to wear, and do whatever struck my interest, that you made me who I am today. I’m still the same, I easily pick up new things to try on for size. If I don’t like them, well then it was an exploration, and if I do, then it’s probably going to be a part of my career. I’m everything I want to be, and not anything anyone else.
If there is one other thing I could tell you, it’s a reply to the statement you made right before you walked me down the aisle, “If you get a divorce, I’m gonna kill you.” I think this might ease your mind, I won’t get a divorce, Dad. I won’t get a divorce because I found the one man that can stand up to me, the person you help create. He can easily look a person in the eye. He never sugar coats, and he takes things with a grain of salt. He knows a mountain isn’t immovable. He has a temper, and he knows people don’t always deserve what he does or says. He knows not to bank on luck, and that it‘s ok to be a little bad sometimes. He knows a wicked ride when he sees one, and what powers it, and he’s actively looking for that car he lives to drive. He even knows good music! But, most of all he lets me just be me. He let’s me pick things up just to try them on for size, and always says “Yep, that‘d be good for you.” I have his full support, and unconditional love, just like another man I know. I hope that eases your mind, because it eases mine.
So, this one’s for you daddy--I want to be a writer, a photographer, a yoga instructor, a professor, a mechanic, and the best daughter, wife, mother, and woman I could ever be. You taught me what to know, and what to throw out with the trash. You helped me be confident in myself, and all of my work. You taught me to appreciate my world I built, and to know that at any moment, a landslide could bring it down.
Monday, April 13, 2009
This Isn't Going As Planned.
But, I knew that would happen. So, let me tell you what I want? Would that help? lol. First off let me say I'm not going to be bothered by any thing you could EVER say. Because I am my own worst critic, and whatever negative comment you could throw my way, my mind has already done, and ten times worse at that. So, when you read, whatever you choose to read think of these questions...
1). Did it make complete sense?
--if there were places you were lost...I would like to know. I'll fix them.
2). Was anything repetitive?
--some things are meant to be, but if it bothered you, I can fix that too.
3). What was the worst about it?
--it could have been a paragraph, a word, a sentence, a phrase. doesn't matter. If it bothered you, chances are it bothered someone else.
4). What was the best part?
--Just because I'd like to know what turns people on. lol. it'll help me in the future.
5). What could be expanded on?
--if there is something you'd like more details on, so would someone else 9 out of 10 times.
6). What could be downsized?
--Am I rambling too much here or there?
Questions like that. It'll help me. I love to know that people are reading my stuff for pure enjoyment, but to be honest, I started this blog for help. Read for your pleasure, but if you like it that much, help me write again. ;) A 2nd grader should be able to read it and understand it. Maybe not so much the vocabulary or wording, but the general idea of every story a youngster should be able to understand. Anything to do with my family, that's my main focus right now. For my autobiography that's due in 2 weeks. So if I have a ** in the title, please read. PLEASE tell me something about it. But, thanks to everyone who has read anything, commenting or not. I'm glad to know that I'm worth your time.
Thank you very much,
The struggling writer.
1). Did it make complete sense?
--if there were places you were lost...I would like to know. I'll fix them.
2). Was anything repetitive?
--some things are meant to be, but if it bothered you, I can fix that too.
3). What was the worst about it?
--it could have been a paragraph, a word, a sentence, a phrase. doesn't matter. If it bothered you, chances are it bothered someone else.
4). What was the best part?
--Just because I'd like to know what turns people on. lol. it'll help me in the future.
5). What could be expanded on?
--if there is something you'd like more details on, so would someone else 9 out of 10 times.
6). What could be downsized?
--Am I rambling too much here or there?
Questions like that. It'll help me. I love to know that people are reading my stuff for pure enjoyment, but to be honest, I started this blog for help. Read for your pleasure, but if you like it that much, help me write again. ;) A 2nd grader should be able to read it and understand it. Maybe not so much the vocabulary or wording, but the general idea of every story a youngster should be able to understand. Anything to do with my family, that's my main focus right now. For my autobiography that's due in 2 weeks. So if I have a ** in the title, please read. PLEASE tell me something about it. But, thanks to everyone who has read anything, commenting or not. I'm glad to know that I'm worth your time.
Thank you very much,
The struggling writer.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Leather and Lace.**
((this def. needs work! i wrote it at 6am this morning, bare with me!))
We are like leather and lace. No two things could be more different. One is here, one lives there. Two different colors of hair. Two different outlooks on life; like two different windows, with two different views. Yes, we are like leather and lace.
Like leather we are tough. No one would dare mess with us. We are out spoken and brutally honest. We walk tall, our heads always held high. Like lace we are girly. We like to get dressed up. We enjoy and embrace our feminine side. Whether or not we are leather or lace, I hope you respect our differences, and cherish our likenesses. I have come to realize that there is no one that knows me quite like you do.
I hope you always remember last Christmas when we all went to eat at Frisch’s. We thought we had stood just a second too long, and our mouths began to run, as usual. Mom looked at us with those furious eyes,
“This is the last time we’re ever going out!” and we had to laugh at her, and apologize too. We cracked jokes at her expense all night.
I hope you always remember dancing in those spot lights, or shall I say headlights, to Ashanti’s “Oh Baby.” And walking out of the mall with tuxedos in hand, screaming, I mean singing, “…if you like pina coladas and dancing in the rain..” Any time you hear a Cher song I hope you think of me, tossing my hair over one shoulder, and doing my best impression.
I hope you always remember how much I used to, or do embarrass you. Like when I was little and I threw a fit about the lady paying with food stamps,
“She’s using Monopoly money!” your eyes were huge with surprise, or disbelief,
“No! No! She’s not! Be quiet!”
“Why are they letting her pay with Monopoly money! That’s not…” And you threw your hand over my mouth to muffle the rest of my words. I remember you even said sorry to her, and you’re not one to do anything like that.
I hope you remember all the fun we had when we would go camping. I remember when you pushed my head under the water to drown me, or as you kept saying, to teach me to swim under water. I remember every time we went tubing together! I’ve never been more scared, or more secure than when we got lost in the woods for hours.
I hope you remember how much I wanted to be you. Once I packed all of your clothes in your suit case, and I was going to run away. I was going to run away somewhere just to be you! That day you arrived home before I had expected you to, and I stashed your suitcase under your bed. You kept asking where your clothes where, I knew, I just wasn’t going to say. Do you remember what you said when you finally found your suitcase under your bed? “Where were you going, Mary?” I never answered. I’ll tell you now though, I was going away, away to be you.
I hope you remember every smile, every fight, every laugh, every joke, every tear, and every memory that you possibly can. Most of all I hope you remember the day you were pulled from your 5th grade lunch table, and were told that you were soon going to be my big sister. I will always remember the day I realized you were my best friend, because no one knows me quite like you do. Whether we are tough like leather, soft like lace, hardworking denim, or graceful silk, you taught me to be all that I am.
We are like leather and lace. No two things could be more different. One is here, one lives there. Two different colors of hair. Two different outlooks on life; like two different windows, with two different views. Yes, we are like leather and lace.
Like leather we are tough. No one would dare mess with us. We are out spoken and brutally honest. We walk tall, our heads always held high. Like lace we are girly. We like to get dressed up. We enjoy and embrace our feminine side. Whether or not we are leather or lace, I hope you respect our differences, and cherish our likenesses. I have come to realize that there is no one that knows me quite like you do.
I hope you always remember last Christmas when we all went to eat at Frisch’s. We thought we had stood just a second too long, and our mouths began to run, as usual. Mom looked at us with those furious eyes,
“This is the last time we’re ever going out!” and we had to laugh at her, and apologize too. We cracked jokes at her expense all night.
I hope you always remember dancing in those spot lights, or shall I say headlights, to Ashanti’s “Oh Baby.” And walking out of the mall with tuxedos in hand, screaming, I mean singing, “…if you like pina coladas and dancing in the rain..” Any time you hear a Cher song I hope you think of me, tossing my hair over one shoulder, and doing my best impression.
I hope you always remember how much I used to, or do embarrass you. Like when I was little and I threw a fit about the lady paying with food stamps,
“She’s using Monopoly money!” your eyes were huge with surprise, or disbelief,
“No! No! She’s not! Be quiet!”
“Why are they letting her pay with Monopoly money! That’s not…” And you threw your hand over my mouth to muffle the rest of my words. I remember you even said sorry to her, and you’re not one to do anything like that.
I hope you remember all the fun we had when we would go camping. I remember when you pushed my head under the water to drown me, or as you kept saying, to teach me to swim under water. I remember every time we went tubing together! I’ve never been more scared, or more secure than when we got lost in the woods for hours.
I hope you remember how much I wanted to be you. Once I packed all of your clothes in your suit case, and I was going to run away. I was going to run away somewhere just to be you! That day you arrived home before I had expected you to, and I stashed your suitcase under your bed. You kept asking where your clothes where, I knew, I just wasn’t going to say. Do you remember what you said when you finally found your suitcase under your bed? “Where were you going, Mary?” I never answered. I’ll tell you now though, I was going away, away to be you.
I hope you remember every smile, every fight, every laugh, every joke, every tear, and every memory that you possibly can. Most of all I hope you remember the day you were pulled from your 5th grade lunch table, and were told that you were soon going to be my big sister. I will always remember the day I realized you were my best friend, because no one knows me quite like you do. Whether we are tough like leather, soft like lace, hardworking denim, or graceful silk, you taught me to be all that I am.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
RSS Feed (xml)