Sunday, April 09, 2006

Today I Walked With You

Today I walked with you
All the way up the puddle jumper trail
And back again.

I noticed that the grass was green again
And I studied the still brown fields,
Hoping to see traces
Of tiny shoots, bright with that new green
That you love so much.

(I know you love it, because
When I look at it, my heart is filled
With ripples of your delight.)

The wind was so strong.
Sometimes it literally pushed me off balance
Or redirected my steps. I leaned into it
And felt like I was leaning into you.



As we walked, I told you
What I hated about myself.

You told me
What you loved about me.

I told you what I was
Afraid of.

You told me what you
Had done for me.

I told you what I couldn't fix.
You told me what you could.



The trail cut sharply
Into the side of a small hill, and
Just for a moment, I pretended
I was a hobbit
Hiding from a Ringwraith
On my way to Bree.

(Only a moment, and then
My voice echoed yours
In laughter at my ridiculousness.)



I looked around me,
At the beauty of the better-late-than-never Spring,
And I told you I wanted to make art,
Great art,
And I begged you to make me worthy
Of opportunities to do so.

You told me what I was asking.

I asked you to tell me
What you had planned for me
What you wanted me to do.

And you were silent.

And I thanked you that
There was a plan--
That I could be wrong but at least I would know
That there was a right way,
Somewhere.
And I wondered why that was comforting.



Today you walked with me
All the way up the puddle jumper trail
And back again.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

The Dangers of Creative Energy, Misapplied

It's amazing what can be accomplished in class if you don't actually listen to the lecture. Look, I wrote haikus!

April 3rd, 2006

Wide, blazing blue skies
Chill with the stubborn wind of
Lingering winter,

Yet still promising
The arrival of a Spring
New, fresh, reborn, free.

The chains on my mind
Begin to wilt, to release
And wave in the breeze.

Did you catch the revolting sentimentality? Yeah, me too. Here's the next one. I made sure to go heavy on the cliche on this one, too. You know, stick with a pattern.


Awaiting the Sensation of a Short, Sharp Shock

I sit in the dark
The walls of my prison smooth,
Impenetrable.

Self-erected, closed
Around me like the walls of
Jericho; thick, tall.

Felled, too, by a cry
A cry I can't remember
How to execute.

Executed long
Before, by that hangman's noose
Called necessity.

And what once saved me
Now oppresses me, grips me,
Keeps me behind bars

Alienating
Those who do not deserve it
And can't understand.


And there you have it, folks: morose, sentimental, and cliche. Just like me.