Thursday, December 6, 2012

it is my hope

Chance poem, amalgam of this blog--elegy for ENGL88.

penned? Conditions 

doubt what I think 
that even if alive are never perceived. I want to


but still i know this is happiness; 

but still i know this is happiness
and tell me i'm not right; there is pain in everything

even childhood bliss is not
I write corpses without skeletons.  

a beautiful face

wind chimes.

when really
such event
devoid of imagination
in which the writer looks
Reader and author 
mailbox. The

end of the block
in tune with



museum and alternative

must dismantle 

in a text box that is in turn


but without the feeling 

black bookshelf
light box

the comfort of
waking up organically
into the rain
of my mind 
people aren't often that direct

the faceless heroine 
in her own locks
first person
connect to an "I
between the two. there

initial precedence 
certain lengths to
streams of thought.

or painful or you don't want to stop 

forms and colors 
academic setting the profesor 
silly girl. i don't think that there are any 
academic setting 
the professor looks at me as if 

running, in that split

beautiful. always 

gets into my eye still
a thinking person can be a whole person

the mysteries of art and 
in the latter's dictionary 

bitter trace of days past

to mutate with my metamorphosis

it doesn't make a difference
to make sense of the mess
a difference how
No matter how 

we can to make sense
will find a boy
nd allowing the force of curiosity

Keira Knightley's character

have passed since

he explores

delight with which

realizing they too belonged 

of sparks into dark 

of their own, it 

thoughts to glitter

imagination seek in
centuries we have 

tells me

touch of this is 

of hibernation

no end to

and the promise of

uniform. He can't see
grandfather was the most
silver to go. 
and I belong
and I belong 


a world of personal universes
with trying

through the rhythmic strikes again
But maybe it is just the rhythm that lulls them

it there.
If my hopes

wearing my vulnerability
art you remember

there is immense beauty

through the capsule. Here I spin

treasures, a mass 
this language is tangled because 

even though I don't believe in 
would mean believing I once 

more information you
make the pen fly if

a collection would

sheets, I carry

through the darkness 

difficult to forget 

i looked up to you. you took

now that all those

round my waist? yeah

pictures where there should be words

and I am somewhere else

long time

words used to describe it roll off

lock it up in my mind 

run around a castle.

i couldn't decipher
to anticipate future resistance 

makes when she strikes it

of metal on metal mama's 

I draw them into
count the crooked branches
and also the darkness on the undersides 

too. There is a loss welling

yank the feeling out from the shadow

never be insignificant again.

sense a shift

and tranquility, you heal.
familiar melody to its battle cry

there are words.
Purple lips and headdresses

chair under a willow tree. 

They curled a crown
All lingering illusions
skin with brown flecks that like sun

the soul radiates

armchair holding me and, with each stroke
from which his fur 

in exchange for each tick tock passed 

the bounce in the corners 
was a line of sweat guarding 

but matte, that i remember.

to gray tinged with black. His skin 

is cropped close to his head, where 

to think and grow and recall newness

infinite space to think and grow

yet maybe the beauty of life is the 

warm knits to seal your body

lately my affections 

my mind it is 
about a moon that sees everything. 
shadowed by turrets

paint pictures inside my lids and color outside the lines

i can pluck them at any moment

milling about in outdoor cafes
but one i seek every time

perspective. i want to look up at 

just like this
pain still dancing in my left hipbone 

elongated and contracted 

when there is water? Where I

glow when basking under both; with words,

melodies, bury them forever

page. With an audible sort of magic it fizzes, and

to the first page of a new book, but

speak, but there is the deception. Your
in the mirror, the resultant stringy hair jumping

sweeping caresses
corners with the energy 
it any other way

of the office after hours
Chinese characters, they lie at my feet. Over

come with the urge to amble up

silly for being intrigued

It'd be nice to

It feels so right, always. And these are
with branches; branches 

reverse. Can't watch the seconds 

my shoulders, its breeze in my hair

one at a time, lightning

and you will see the vestiges of an old science fair project. 

the shadow that trailed his movement

came. I tumbled out of the metro

meaning it would have to another
my worries melted into

unassigned to anything but free to 

to what my mother thinks from looking at me, i am happy. it's just my 

comfort and the wisdom

although i guess within this line of thinking

like outstretched fingertips, my hair 

me for a while.
because we have good taste. 

like not existing, until all 

stand. he felt no fear, realizing that 

every wave; every time

air on the trees' communal 

filtering system we develop with age

someone someday to find.
the cycle, it grows into the tap of 

your imagination. They can rearrange
that writing is what I want to do, 
has grown so much I almost can't believe it.

transparent are 

applying no layer of paint to represent

of backlit silhouettes

I close my eyes. The moody blue 

face and torso and all of the

waves into darkness and carry you onto a vast ship

these days she 
about this.

own accord. The air is gray as you 
take lots of pictures

as I hoped it would be.

make their home in the curly contours of trees. They flutter

way by overwhelming emotion

with its stream of cars became replaced

are worth a thousand words. Heck, words

which means "breath" a

wishing and questioning and hoping

Until the cascade turns your skin red.

a sister, and I will call her

across the sky.
where everyone speaks in Pink

And the sound. It reminds you of brevity

I suspect you know something 
glass. He wanted to 
every photo there is the trace
mine mine mine

breathing. I remember because I 
have not happened--is among mankind's 

Our own anatomy do


kids in a candy store, unable to settle

makes perfect sense then why
music is so powerful. 
It is human connection

dies whose style inspires 

every day? People caring too 

gotten all mixed up. The

melodies that have soul, that resurrect

Want to see the message placating the features of the passersby.

years ago i felt like stifled grass, and
or any pain that consumes

only that which existed all along. 
with its trees that sprout

corporations were not born

the elements begin

outdoors ever since my mom sat 

the harbor. Strewn here and there

recognition in the reader

capture something just right so that words transcend the physical boundaries of 

you make a phone call and words

beating in your head
invading breeze is so

an unfair advantage.

black magic in my fingertips

thank you for getting

stung lips

hatred for him grows

into a tree so lustrous.

I am drifting.

chord progressions
into the darkness of the parking lot, brim slightly upturned like a wink

and another thing I can't remember

a neighborhood street adjacent to 
where I rode my bicycle with
rooftops a million

have an adventure
bare patch of comforter.

It's high time I unveil my strength


me at first keep encouraged

Today on the train

So much delicate teamwork
your bedroom wall.

close, and whispered that

posting here I find my voice.

soaking my mind

now nobody's room and
swept up in nostalgia.

bag where it had settled amid
blue snow. You give my fingers blisters

Trees the specters.

words that I want to use over and over. The 
thoughts branching off

gravity only marginally more irksome
of the plate in my hands

dizzied flurries between your window

sweet blend of sugar and pastry 

sheets against my bare legs.

and mail 
each other and believing

minute people on a hill.

glass plate sealing me off from

turn pioneers its retreat into

thinner and thinner the closer they 
I know it is something

work of my eyes. It smells like

lightening up.

from sister. Racing across 
find our way to each other at the timely 

and embark on this
wrestle down stray ideas and romanticize

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