It's Too Sweet

I heard about the best
apple pie in town.
Nobody makes it
like they make it
he said.
So I stood
in line and waited
my turn.
Every three minutes
the line moved up
One. Two. Three.
I was next when I
let a girl
cut in front of me.
I have somewhere to be
she said.
I took a step back
she squeezed in.
One. Two. Three.
I'll have one apple pie
please. My chance was
finally here.
The baker looked at me.
Sorry, sold out. She got the
last one.

One Week

Merry Christmas Everyone!

My friend and I have started a sort of challenge for ourselves. We are going to sit down and write everyday even if it's just a couple of sentences for a week. I know that isn't very long, but the idea is to keep going after that. I will try to post my progress everyday.

Think we can do it?

Here it goes!

The Last Single Girl

First time lover

With harm in her

Bed, the taste

Of Jameson

On her tongue. Shadows

Dance on her bedroom

Walls as she takes one

Last sip, giving permission.

Street lights peek in the windows

Taunting her.

Five in the morning

And the night is just beginning.

She flirts with sin and

Begs for fire.

And as she touches

Temptation, the darkness

Breaks

Leaving room

For the sun to breathe again.

July Nights

If I could

stop time

I would

 

make the dew

freeze

on flower petals

 

and the

stream from

jets stay

in the sky.

 

I'd keep

the rain

constant

 

and the waters

calm.

 

Birthdays would

last forever,

 

I do's

wouldn't become

I don'ts

 

and funerals

would never happen.

 

If I could

stop time 

 

I'd stop it

right here

in this moment

when 

I am with you.

 

The teacher isn't always right.

For starters, one of my teachers made a comment that I just cannot wrap my head around. She said and I quote: "You cannot write a good story unless you have it outlined and know where the story is going." 
I disagree.
If every time you sat down to write, or picked up a guitar, or started to paint, you knew the end result would you do it? Isn't half the beauty to discover and find out where your talent can take you? I do not always know the ending to my stories or poems and I think that is the point. I may know the road map occasionally, but that does not distinguish whether my writing is good or not. I believe that you start your masterpiece (whatever that may be) and you just go. You don't always think of the beginning, middle and end right away. People always say the best road trips are when you get lost and find a hidden gem or whole-in-the-wall restaurant. 
So I say...forget the organized outlines, story webs, road maps and whatever other guide there is and write, create, sing, paint and draw wherever it may take you!

My last rant,
I recently went to the store to get a card for a dear friend. I was shocked to see that for Veteran's Day the store had an overall collection of six cards. Yes, you read that right. SIX cards to choose from to honor the people that honor us the most. Pitiful. Offensive. In my opinion there should have been an entire wall to choose from. It's amazing to me that the Hallmark company or whoever is the head of this thinks that all the Veteran's deserve is six measly cards on the bottom of the shelf. 

Thank you to every Veteran and Active Duty Soldier for all that you do. Also thank you to their families for keeping them strong. :)

Food For Thought

Today is September 11, 2012. I cannot say that date or see those numbers without remembering what happened that fateful day. I did not know anyone involved in this tragedy but my heart goes out to everyone who has been affected by this. 
My goal today is not to write a sad post. My goal is to thank everyone who is in my life and who has been there for me. You helped shape me into the person I am today and I am forever grateful. You know who you are.

I had a conversation with a good friend recently where we talked about the "social contract" and how we now right from wrong. In one of my classes we discussed what makes us human and the what drives us to make the decisions we make. 

Where did you learn your morals from?

Do you have any?

Or was it the lack of them that helped you shape yourself?

Most people say it was the way you were raised or the religion that you follow. But what if you weren't raised in a healthy environment? What if you don't follow any kind of organized religion? 

Why do we follow a social contract? Who influenced us to help us decide right from wrong?

Are we humans?

Or are we just animals? 

Are we just living in a civilized society hiding our dark sides and true animal instincts? Think about this. Pick someone close to you, a friend or maybe even a family member. If it came down to a fight for survival between you two what would you do? Would you fight for your life? 

Just some food for thought.

Holiday Weekend

I have  been doing some character research lately. In one of my books the main character is a painter and lets just be honest here, I am definitely not a painter. So I have taken it upon myself to paint. I owe it to my characters to immerse myself into their lives, if I didn't it wouldn't be as good. Another book I am concentrating on right now is one I am working on with a friend of mine. He has given me full reign on the writing with the exception of the idea being his. I start my fiction writing class next week so hopefully that will move things along. Feeling Inspired lately....more writing will come soon!

I Wonder Sometimes

You fill my room
with an overwhelming sense 
of calm. And 
curiosity. And love.
And dread. And regret. 

Your smell lingers 
on my t-shirt.
I breathe you in,
kiss the salt off of your skin.

This night just couldn't
last long
enough. 
You'll leave.
I will wait.

Drowning in thoughts 
of the way you sleep
guarded
as if waiting for the 
bomb to drop.

How your fingertips glide
across the guitar strings
making sounds everybody else
avoids.

The way you drive
with such control and 
adventure in your
eyes. I smile
at the memory of your
voice when you sing in the car.

Then I remember that
I'll wait
and you will leave.

Mid-Week Crisis

It would be my dream to sit down and write every single day without limitations. Unfortunately right now that is not realistic. There are too many distractions in my life; school, work, t.v. and my small existence of a social life. Who am I kidding? If I wanted to sit down and write everyday I could, but I make excuses like everybody else. 
So I am going to break my cycle of laziness, and force myself to sit and write at least once a week. Yes, I am going to give myself a new years resolution in July. We can have Christmas in July so why not New Years?

Here is your chance. What is your middle of the year resolution? Below I attached a picture of my office, maybe then you can understand why I procrastinate. 

Thursday Morning

You blew the flame out

Before the candle was even lit.

I watched you gather

Your things out of empty

Drawers and bare closets.

Watched you drag your muddy shoes across

Carpet-less floors.

I listened to you shut all the doors without ever opening

A window.

You rush right past me exhaling

Guilt

And regret

And sorrow.

Such sadness that even the warmth

Of my touch cannot heal or take

The pain away even if only for a moment.

How long must I wait?

How long?

To think about time is beyond

My comprehension. Until then

I will sit on this curb and watch

The world pass me by.

I wish you were here.

Like a fly on my wall

Watching me,

Stalking me,

With your nine hundred and ninety-nine

Eyes.  I could come talk to

You. Sit with you. Breathe

With you.

I want you to see the things inside me

Fluttering, gasping to get

Out. The things I hide from

The world.

Truth bleeds out of my mouth

Drop

By drop,

As if surrendering to you.

You consume me. Twisting

Me in knots from the inside out

Intoxicating me.

I lay here

With nothing but my thoughts

Naked on the floor.

Broken

I opened the door wide-eyed, heart beating

Fast. The light was blinding,

The smell; welcoming.

She said we could get a brand new

China set. Any one I wanted

I could have. Hundreds of

Pretty little dishes were stacked and

Placed in intricate patterns on shelves.

I gazed around, paying very little attention

To each one, not really captivated or stunned

By any means. I rounded the corner quickly,

Unimpressed but hopeful.

There it was. So pretty. So perfect. There were only

A few sets of this kind left. Appreciated by more than me,

Its edges were laced with fingerprints that the hired hand couldn’t

Wipe away.

Without warning I picked it up.

Heavy in my hand; the charger,

The dinner plate, the salad plate,

The bread plate, the saucer,

The tea cup.

I became lost in the red swirls and

Textures on the cup. Imagining having tea

Parties with my dolls, my G.I. Joe, and Barbie.

But out of the corner of my eye I saw a glimmer.

The same set but

In ocean blue.

I began to lose my concentration,

My thought, my balance.

They fell, one right after the other.

The tea cup hit first, and continued

To break, even after the last dish had fallen.

My mother ran over. Furious. Confused.

She apologized to the guy behind

The counter. Grabbed my hand and we

Raced out of the store, my eyes never

Leaving the ocean blue china set.