Shadow

Running at twilight,
down a dark  road,
that shaped into a curved troden path.
Recognizing this would take great effort.
I set my eyes on the edges of my sneakers.
You would not notice me.
All I am  is a shadow tonight.

Black poking edges formed my barrier.
Shape shifting branches set their leaves before me.
I glared into the red horizon line,
and the road before me twisted on.
I would not make it home tonight.

I haven't posted anything in a while... I'm starting to give up on this blog ha :P

Because I have time, and have fun making stuff up!

She ran, and she spoke to the leaves, the jaded bark , and the cool grass under her  feet. She told them no specific story. Just words.  Words of various forms in riddles. She let them wander from her mouth creating images, bright flashes of a dream.
The times hands in her fingers slipped to the ground, and into the caves they slivered. Like a snake under a rock, not seen, and scarcly botherd with. The sparkles on her green dress began to fall. It was showing this place just the way she felt.
And her words trailed on. They formed the train of her gown. They dragged themselves over every blank piece untill they were covered in fantastical dreams. She longed to walk every inch of the world in her green dress with her words. Letters themselves clung to the souls of her shoes, and burned their way onto thorns, bushes, bits of green, and sleeping colors underfoot.
Alive and awake the forest began to sing her words back, as if it were engraved on their hearts. Every color seemed brighter, every bit of grass softer; and they sang her along until she reached their very edge.
There they bid her farwell. Then as she was stepping out of their borders she uttered  one last gift. "Good bye" She whisperd, and with a bright smile and words dancing in her eyes she left .  Her final words sweetly seeped and lingered in every petal, every branch, in their very core.

I want to learn to write stories. Someday I want to write a fiction novel! So for now I just have fun and practice..

Goodness I love John Keats

I Stood Tip-Toed Upon a Hill

I STOOD tip-toe upon a little hill,
The air was cooling, and so very still,
That the sweet buds which with a modest pride
Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,
Their scantly leaved, and finely tapering stems,
Had not yet lost those starry diadems
Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.
The clouds were pure and white as flocks new shorn,
And fresh from the clear brook; sweetly they slept
On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept
A little noiseless noise among the leaves,
Born of the very sigh that silence heaves:
For not the faintest motion could be seen
Of all the shades that slanted o’er the green.
There was wide wand’ring for the greediest eye,
To peer about upon variety;
Far round the horizon’s crystal air to skim,
And trace the dwindled edgings of its brim;
To picture out the quaint, and curious bending
Of a fresh woodland alley, never ending;
Or by the bowery clefts, and leafy shelves,
Guess where the jaunty streams refresh themselves.
I gazed awhile, and felt as light, and free
As though the fanning wings of Mercury
Had played upon my heels: I was light-hearted,
And many pleasures to my vision started;
So I straightway began to pluck a posey
Of luxuries bright, milky, soft and rosy

- by John Keats

A Mixing Pot

A mixing pot of mother earth
A stew of silt and earth,
takes bits of rock about the world.
Sways the rivers back and forth,
and waves the ocean to its hearth.

Where it gloats crackly white in its bliss,
and catapults itself onto the sun bleached sands.
Then to splashing its water on the hallow tree trunks
who wish they were back in the forests hands.

Various things..

      First things first.. I might actually start telling people about this blog. That way I'm not just posting things on here for my sister alone (even though I love you very much!).

 Alright on to what I was originally going to post about! The other day I found a website listing various writing exercises here is my attempt at one of them. The exercise is to make a list of something, regrets, firsts, losses, and so on. After making your list you then attempt to describe in detail a few of these things. Alright here it is!

Firsts

I read through those rhythmic lines,
and turned each eggshell page.
Traced my finger across each black
dark inked letter.
Every beautiful image vividly branded
on my imagination.
-My first book of poetry

Bitter warm taste.
I sipped at its brim.
I added two more scoops of sugar.
It felt smooth in my throat,
hot in my chest,
and shivery on my neck.
-My fist cup of coffee (hehe :)

White slush in my toes I walked.
Crystals of unique shapes clung
to the hem of my jeans,
and cold crisp air
grabbed at my ankles.
-The first time I walked in the snow barefoot. Which I don't advise btw.

Keep in mind this was a fast writing exercise. So this is nothing awesome for sure.
Thats all I have for now.
Toodles!!

Those three weeks I miss.
Way too much sun for a rainy state.
Watch me glide on the cold blue abyss.
Clean my slate.

Far did I rome.
Away from that place I now cant even call home.
And I loved every minute of it.

My ferry it strode.
Across no rode.
So open and free.
Across Gods sea.

On the edge I stood.
My breath nearly taken from me by the wind.
I nearly could,
Have had my life stop then.

-I miss Seattle sometimes. Its pretty addicting.

Just another year.

Just another year.

But inevitable change is coming.

Fills this head with fear,

And sends it ever turning.

Its so very strange,

The passing of time.

The way we can see,

how we've been so blind,

To the time that is right here, thus ending.

I'd love to just listen to all the sounds,

of years quickly rushing by us.

But I know I must go,

Because time even slow,

Stuns all those who pause for a moment.

-To Aubrey!!

I really miss you big sister.  I know you're gonna have tons of fun this year though!Thanks for the awesome new journal!

My soul

Feet and fingers drum.
Everything is not permissible for me.
I ran into my souls open slum.
And there I saw who I was prone to be.

Twisted black and grey shades of regret.
Waved like flags at every corner.
Shivering children cold and wet.
Huddled to get warmer.

My breath was shallow as I trudged,
Through the streets of my soul.
knowing there was only one way out.
out of this sinking hole.

But I still tried every door.
My strength was small and dwindling.
And even the poor,
Had more a chance then I.

Without a breath I took a step.
Into the barren street.
So crowded and so lonely still.
I tried to train my feet.

To walk the way that real feet  can.
Across that very street.

For who could live in such a soul,
Where all I feel are lies.

I hear there is one.
Who can walk these roads.
And clear the air alone.

The only one who would venture.
Into such a fool as I.

Contemplating futures.
She sits surrounded by intimidating mountains.
Waiting for the answers that inevitably wont come from rock and soil.
The very last thing she wants to hear is the sounds of people.
They speak in circles. Endless loops of common sense.
The precipice edged in the dirt seems to suggest an end.
That's what it all comes to.
The whole world knows it.
She'll not listen.

Perfection in contentment.

Driving in a perfect breeze.

My mind is softly settling to ease.

And everything I know is right.

The bright yellow sun,

A shared sweet light,

Is telling us be peaceful, calm, and still.

The love you have is here and will,

wrap you in His cool feather wings.

A blanket of green and curtain of trees.

I chose you He breathes.

I dressed these wondrous leaves.

And even in these painful heaves,

I love you and always will.