Collecting thoughts

A quickly-written piece to finish out the month. Now I'm off to do laundry.

Collecting Thoughts

Messages in bottles
Love letters written in sand

The waves come crashing
Pull them in with watery precision

They arrive on my doorstep
in pieces

Shattered, torn, broken
Marked: Return to Sender

An observation on the life of a waitress.

I love people-watching. It's one of my favorite things to do. I imagine the kind of lives that people passing by live, have lived, or want to live. I suppose there are people who do the same when they watch me. I often wonder what they see, but sadly will never know. I wrote this poem this morning while on the bus, passing one of my favorite diners. It took all of two minutes and I actually like how it turned out.

Waitress

Outside, she steadies herself
against the brick of a deceptive
Hollywood background reflection

Chicago wind dances
through curls, bleached white
time after time

A Betty
Gladys
Or Annette

Index and middle fingers firm
around a long, slim cigarette

Dreaming long lost
dreams with each inhale

With each exhale, wondering
where the time went

Promises, promises...

I don't make many promises, because to me a promise is sacred. It's something that is meant to be kept, not broken. A friend of mine doesn't believe in promises. For the ten years I've known him, and for many years before that even, he has made people pinky-swear when something is important. I think it's adorable.

My Promise to You

I’ll pull together all of our
false starts
Toss them in my pocket

The next time it rains
I’ll let the sky wash them away

My Truth

My Truth

I fall in love
On a daily basis

The written word
Is never disappointing

I’m the narrator and this is just the prologue, a.k.a. Read Write Poem revisited

I was listening to Panic at the Disco on the L today and this song has been stuck in my head ever since. Anywho... I was a little discouraged by the fact that I haven't been writing much lately and decided to pay a visit over to Read Write Poem. They always offer such wonderful inspiration and today was no different; thank you friend.

Mosaic

Carve it into the backs
Of my eyelids
So I can see it
When I’m dreaming

Slither it underneath my skin
By way of willful needles
Whatever you have to do
Just leave a lasting impression

Scorching hot
Burn it into my mind

Granular tokens
Of belittled affection

The fence has been lowered
The guard is off duty
I will excrete nothing

Your secret is safe with me
In this mosaic

Bold words are courtesy of the prompt.

I miss having time to do nothing.

The new job has been keeping me busy. I'm happy to be working hard for the money, but I wish I had more time on my hands. By the time I get home I feel so guilty for being away from my dog all day that I make a quick dinner and play with her until it's time to go to bed. I haven't written much in the past few days either. There just hasn't been time. I miss naps. I miss random phone calls. I miss walks to the park in the middle of the day. I miss my friends! I've been neglecting my email accounts, my facebook, my text messages (except for a select few). I promise I'll get the hang of my schedule soon and figure out a nice rhythm. Until then...

Untitled V

I miss
Late night confessions
Mixed with a little white zin

By little I mean three or four glasses
Enough to admit my deepest sins

I miss dreaming of you until morning

I know it's not a good piece with as long as I've been absent, but it's a start. Now, it's off to bed for me.

A sky for new beginnings.

I took this picture on a visit to the park while I was consumed with NaPoWriMo. This picture really doesn't do that sky justice. It seemed so promising on that day. A sky for new beginnings.

Sky

I take a deep breath
Exhale my troubles
The sky swallows them whole

Waiting...waiting...writing...writing...passing the time.

Writing to keep my mind off of things. Writing to pass the time. This is all I have come up with. I think the first piece seems a bit off. I've re-worked it a couple of times... still seems wrong.

Maintains the Memories

Time-
My nemesis
It maintains the memories
I’ve tried so hard to forget
and the ones I cherish

If it drops
It will shatter
Memories will be lost
forever

I will refuse to mourn them

************************************

Untitled III

A wolf in sheep’s clothes
I reach for you

I’m not that kind of girl

I’m not that kind of girl

************************************

Untitled IV

When the excitement has faded
When contentment has worn off

What will we have left?

New job, small poem, and life as a cynic.

Today I went for a second interview with a company I interviewed with last week. I got the job! I'm very excited. It seems like a really nice place. The people were all very friendly...though they always are in the beginning, but I have a good feeling about this place.

I found out yesterday that I'm going to have another poem published in The Cynic Online Magazine. My poem, Sprouting Up Roots, will be featured in the Cafe Del Soul section of the July issue of the online magazine. I'll post the link to the poem when the time comes. I'm really excited. It's nice to be able to see my work on a site that doesn't belong to me. It helps to push me toward submitting more of my work to publications.

I wrote a small piece the other day and didn't post it because I thought I might try to re-work it in some way. I can't seem to make any changes so I'm going to go ahead and post it. If for some reason I end up changing it down the road I'll just post the new version too. I've been obsessed with touch lately...people might start to notice.

Untitled

Did you even notice
that I touched you?
(Between heavy breathes
and heartbeats)

It's the science of love
we have yet to perfect.

A busy day, a short poem.

Today was a full day. Somehow I found time to write. Now I'm tired. Drained. Too lazy to create complete thoughts. Still considering starting that other blog. Until I make a decision all of my pieces, small and large, will continue to go here.

Untitled

I want to have a conversation
Without peeling back the words

Without eliminating the ones that beg
For physical contact, a safety precaution
Because they make me seem desperate

I want you to touch me

Saw The Killers last night, fell in love all over again, wrote a poem, and things unrelated.

NaPoWriMo is over, but this came to me this morning and I liked it.

Rhetoric

The words course through my veins
Like blood
Pumping...
I need this to live



Saw The Killers in Milwaukee last night. They were amazing! I swear every time I listen to one of their songs I fall in love...and when I get lucky enough to see them live...well, very little compares. Oh how I heart Brandon Flowers.

In unrelated news: I've been flirting with the idea of starting a new blog; one that will be for poetry and prose of the shorter nature. I usually write longer pieces, but I've found a lot of comfort in some of the smaller pieces I've been writing lately. I thought I would dedicate another blog to those musings and also allow other people to post their smaller pieces as well. Then I would keep this blog for my more "developed" pieces and thoughts and random junk in the maze that I call Life. Just an idea. We'll have to wait and see if it goes anywhere.