Sunday, November 6, 2011
Time's Awful Trick
Slow decaying hours of tension trickle like a single sand grain falling from an hourglass. Patience itself cannot prevail against an inevitable pending doom, looming in the near yet never approaching future. Time sticks you between the aggravating state of not knowing and the horrible event of realization, and abandons you there until your thoughts fester inside your head and drive you near to madness. Your body grows accustomed to the dragging days, leaving you almost lifeless, so that when doomsday finally arrives, despite your waiting, you're not prepared. It comes as a surprise, a shock.
Suddenly life is a whir. You now beg time to stop, but for some ironic cause it's tired of its lazy meandering and longs to run- to sprint. You're choking in the dust, exasperated in wonderment about how you'll ever keep up. Dry and uncomfortable quiet has become momentous chaos. In a flash, years have passed since that fateful day, and once in a while you look back, and still you're not used to how your life has changed. You never will be, because Time plays an awful trick.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Old peom made new
Tears
I stood in line,
Watched every victim,
Of some sort of trial,
Shed their tears.
One tear for every hardship,
One for every hurt,
For every sin.
And He stood by,
Watching,
Weeping,
Hurting,
Because He loves us.
The tears fall one by one,
Into the cup.
The bottomless cup,
That would overflow.
It came my turn.
The tears fell,
Hundreds of them.
For every sin,
Every trial,
Every hurt.
I bitterly wept,
And He watched,
Knowing,
Understanding,
Hurting,
For me.
I was the last to weep,
And as I shed my final tear,
I looked up,
And He drank of that bitter cup,
As His own tears,
Ran down from his face.
He drank our tears,
My tears.
And he cried them all,
Twofold,
For us. For me.
And I felt my heart lighten,
Brighten,
Because He understood,
And I stood,
Watching,
Knowing,
No longer hurting,
And grateful,
Because He loves me.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Three Deadliest Dance Crimes
It's Finally here!!!! My creative essay --hope you enjoy! :)
The three deadliest dance crimes
Crime number one: Awkward silence
Standing alone on the dance floor, she looks around for available boys. One catches her eye, and looks shyly away. She turns away disappointed, only to feel a couple seconds later, someone tap her shoulder.
“Wammafa dofanca?” he mumbles.
“Um… sorry, what?”
“Do you wanna dance?”
Although it was barely audible, she understands. “Sure!”
The moment he puts his hand on her waist, she knows this will be an awkward dance. He’s not even touching her.
His eyes wander everywhere but into her own.
Silence.
Silence.
He clears his throat.
More silence.
“Umm,” she begins, “What do you like to do?”
“I like basketball.”
“Oh cool. Basketball’s cool.”
“Yea.”
Silence.
“Sooo… what’s your favorite color?” She attempts conversation once again.
“Blue.”
“Yea? I like blue too. And purple.”
Silence.
Silence.
And the song finally ends.
“Well, thanks for dancing with me!” she smiles warmly hoping for at least an enjoyable ending.
Boy smiles awkwardly for just a moment, “Yea. Um, yea, thanks.”
Crime number two: Touchy-feely creeeeperss
“Do you want to dance?” he asks, grinning obnoxiously.
“Yea!”
He puts his hand almost all the way around her hips and forces her in, a little too close for comfort.
Bracing her hand firmly against his shoulder to prevent an even smaller gap between them, she says with even more firmness, “So. What do you like. To do.”
“I like graffiti. And setting things on fire, then watching them burn. And stabbing wood with knives.”
“Oh… well, that’s interesting.”
Sexily… “Is it okay if I spin you?”
“Uh… yea. You don’t have to ask that…”
Spins her a couple times, and upon returning to the normal position pulls her in even closer than before.
“Do you want to feel my muscles?”
Having absolutely nothing to say to that, she ignores the question. “So… what else do you like to do?”
“I like watching beautiful women. Like you.”
“I just remembered… I have to… call my dad…. In the bathroom.” She promptly leaves.
Crime number three: Self centered talk-a lots
She wanders around the dance floor –its lady’s choice.
“Hey,” she says upon finding a guy who looks nice enough, “Would you like to dance?”
“Yep,” he answers with confidence. She wonders if she hit the jackpot.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
She answers.
“What do you like to do?”
He actually asks questions! She thinks it can’t get any better.
She answers. Then questions:
“What about you?”
Big mistake.
“Oh! I like blah and blah and I’m so good at blah and I won state in blah and I love blah and blah and blah and I hope I win blah. Oh and that reminds me about this one time when blah and blah and blah. AHHAHAAHAA!! And then he blah and blah. Haha, it was so great! Oh yea, and this one time I blah, and blah and blah.”
As he takes a breath, she politely (as she can) acknowledges his story:
“Um, wow. Yea tha –“
“Yea I know right? And blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. HAHAHAHAHAHA! It was so funny! And so blah blah blah… oh the song’s over, well thanks for dancing with me, it was great, see ya.”
“—t’s cool.”
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I Am
P.S. My essay is coming soon!!! Sorry, life got busy, haha
I Am
I am a believer
I wonder what comes next
I hear laughter
I see contentment
I want joy
I am a believer
I pretend I can dance
I feel invincible
I touch my dreams
I worry about making my parents proud
I cry for no reason at all
I am a believer
I understand who I want to be
I say I am beautiful
I dream I actually am
I try to see the world through God's eyes
I hope for truth
I am a believer