Little bird

When your silver song is drowned
By the roar of anger
or a rush of accusation
Sing out, little bird
Sing out.

If the headwind is strong
and your wings are weary
Duck your head
And sing out, little one
Sing out.

The rain hits like bullets
and the gale pierces like ice.
But dig deep for strength, push on
And sing out, dear one
Sing out.

This is practically poetry...

One of my recent favorite videos... it almost made me cry.

Pain

So I've been suffering writer's block, or maybe just plain un-inspiration lately, but I finally forced myself to write something. I hear that's the best cure, or first step towards a cure, for writer's block.
The inspiration for this one comes from a lot of places, I guess. I was listening to "Move Along" by the All-American Rejects today, so that's where a lot of it comes from, and it also just comes from those times where you're trying to get over something pretty painful- in my case, it's usually some hopeless crush that I know is going to go nowhere. While it hurts when you realize that and start trying to move past it, eventually you get to a point where you can turn around and realize it was for the better. :) Oh and PS, sorry if this isn't that great. I really just wrote this poem to get my creative juices flowing, and didn't give much time to critiquing or anything.

Pain (I'm not really feeling the creativity in this title here... sorry, haha.)

The hurt
is sharp
and strong.

Don’t stop
Just move
Push along

While it’s tough
And bitter
And real

These wounds
Will prove quick
To heal.

Just FYI

Hey everyone,
so it's been a while since I've posted on here... Truth be told, I've been pretty busy lately getting ready for college and whatnot. But I promise, I'll try to post again soon! I just wanted to make sure that you all knew this blog isn't dead (yet).
Hope you're all doing well!
"Daisy"

Dusk on the lake

During the retreat I mentioned in my last post, we leaders took our teens out on the dock and had some quiet time one night. It was really amazing, as was the whole camp, and the peaceful atmosphere was incredible. The hours after sunset are a pretty magical time, cheesy as that sounds. This poem just kind of turned out as the result of my observations of all the senses during this short time on the lake.

Dusk on the Lake

The lake is
a mirror of movement
as the deck
dips and sways.

The water is an
echo of light,
the windows casting
a liquid glow.

Guitar skims across the water
The whisper of wind
matches the murmer
of the shuffling bodies.

A highlight of white
is a chip on the dusty dark blue sky
bleeding lighter around the edges.

Flood

I was at a retreat this weekend for the Militia Immaculata. I've been a part of this camp for several years now, and this was my first year as a small group leader instead of a camper. Anyway, during the orientation for the leaders, we got a chance to have some prayer time with just us and the Lord. It was totally awesome, and my reflections sort of sparked this poem. (Keep in mind that I wrote this at 11:15 at night, and edited it while running on very few hours of sleep, so it may be a little odd.) ;)

Permeate me, Lord
Drown me in You.
Take away the old crud
and fill it with the New.

Seep through my veins
Inundate me
with the waves of Your grace
Your mercy, the Sea.

Make every move Yours
So I'm now just a part
of this Body of Christ
Let me follow Your heart.

Spinning

They say
The crazy people
don't know they are.

If I think I'm losing it,
does that mean
I'm not?

Rescuers

This is the final poem for my poetry class this year. (Hopefully that doesn't mean the last poem for this blog!) ;) It's a poem of gratitude, and it's addressed to you, dear Switchfoot boardie friends. :) I find it ironic that as I'm posting this, the song "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own" by U2 came on my iTunes... appropriate!

Rescuers

When you found me,
I was underwater
Drowning
Crushed under the thick, blue, immovable
solitude.
Every rejection
Ignored speech
Snide look
Silence
Held me down like a vise.
The solid, black
alone
was my merciless prison
And no one would give me
the key.

Along came you
Thrusting a life preserver into my
Grasping hands
Pushing words
Where none existed
Turning the key
Opening my prison
My crutch, support, lifeline

Thank you.

(unnamed)

I just wrote this one on the spur of the moment. It's partially inspired by the song Love Is The Movement, partially by this quote from Jon Foreman:

Love is, as far as I can tell, the most mature response to any situation - the pinnacle of what it means to be truly human. Love is a wrench in the wheels of cause and effect, of reactionary living, of casual imitation. Yes, speed and events are all around us in the information age, but motion, true motion, is rare. Love is the movement. Keep moving, amigos.

Here's my poem:


I sit on the side of the highway
As the cars zip past.
Lives pass
Each one intent
Focused ahead
Eyes forward
Don’t look sideways
Don’t stop to breathe.

In a world of motion
We’re devoid of
emotion.
Our movement is
machine, metal, mechanical
iPod, iTouch
I think
we are losing touch with each other

On the side of the highway
One person pauses.
One movement,
the mindless,
stops.
Another
the movement of love
begins.
Make love your movement.

Urban Phantom

For last week's assignment, we had to write a poem based on a news story. You can read about it here. Basically this black bear was spotted roaming around the greater Seattle area, and eluded his trackers for quite a while! (I heard tonight on the news they finally caught him... it's been at least a week!)
Some phrases in this poem were borrowed from the original story, but it's mostly in my own words. (Part of the "point" of this assignment was to create a "found poem" from an old article, taking certain elements from the original source.) Enjoy!

Urban Phantom

Urban Phantom

Rummages through garbage
Scavenges for snacks
Lumbers over flower pots

Not your typical intruder
Fuzzy black bear
Spotted by joggers

Magnolia to Ballard to Shoreline
Where's he headed?

Pursued by police, dogs, wildlife experts
Urban Phantom gives them all the slip.

Just a Dime

Sorry it's been sooooo long since I last posted! I hope I didn't lose all my readers by being absent for so long. I was out of town for a while (playing at Carnegie Hall! no joke!), and I haven't had much time to write poetry lately. But here's an assignment from this week's class! We had to use some object as the basis of the poem, some object which was a symbol of something in our own life. Like if a certain flower had a special significance to you because your first boyfriend gave it to you or whatever. (haha I just made that example up.) Anyway, so your poem had to be about this object.
Anyway, this poem is about a dime which I picked up off the floor at the Fiction Family concert in February, the first time I met Jon Foreman. *heart flutters* ;) It's pretty self-explanatory, so read on!

Just a Dime

It’s just a dime
Ten cents only
Can’t buy anything with it
alone
It’s the smallest of its counterparts
Ten small cents
Ten years old
Dull and dim
So why is it
still sitting
on my dresser?

It’s not there for the
ten cents
But for
The memories

I spotted it lying
On the floor
As I waited to meet
My hero, favorite singer, musician
Anxious, looking for something to
Occupy my shaking hands
I pick it up,
fiddle with it,
slip it in my pocket.

Later that night, I pull it out again
Grin
And set it apart from
every other dime

Every day when I see that
Insignificant
miniscule coin
The memories flood back
I smile and
remember.

I'm alive (mostly)

Sorry I haven't posted anything in a few days. I've been inundated with school this week- we're about halfway through the quarter, so all my teachers decided to give us midterms/tests/speeches due this or the next week. Actually, the only class that didn't assign something was poetry- our teacher thought we'd be a little busy this time of year. So that's why I don't have anything to post currently! :) I've also been feeling a little writers-block-ish lately. Hopefully once this week passes I can write a little something more.

On the bus

I don't know why, but riding on the bus often inspires me to write poetry. Haha. Anyway, here is a piece written on the bus, somewhat appropriately about the bus. I don't really have a name for it... why not just:

On the bus

The modern-day dragon
lurches forward with a roar
Hisses and spits as it halts
Weaves through lesser vehicles

Inside, we clutch its ribs
as a jolt tosses us to
and fro
here and
there
His tennis racket hitting her pink
backpack
while the elderly man
clings to his ticket and his seat
like simultaneous lifelines.

Ding!
I thank the driver
and stumble off.

~~~~
My thoughts: I'm not sure how this worked out. I tried to kind of capture the feeling of riding a bus in words, breaking up the lines in different places and all that, but I don't know if it works or not. Your comments, please? :)

At Sea

This poetry class assignment was to base our poem on a photograph, beginning it with the phrase, "In this photograph, (the subject) is..." It also had to follow a 'real' form. :) This was kind of weird for me, because I'm not big on form when writing poetry (I'm not that creative!). Anyway, I decided to use a ballade form for this- three 8-line stanzas, and a 4-line "envoy."

I really enjoyed writing this. One, it's past 11 PM, and anything can be fun late at night. Haha. Also, I'm listening to Jon Foreman, always an uplifting experience. (Currently- the Winter EP, "White As Snow.") Thirdly, I adore my little brother. He is soooo cute! (click on the picture above and take a peek at his gorgeous face.) :D Spoiled to death, sure, but he is ADORABLE. Anyway. I hope you enjoy this poem a bit. :)

At Sea

In this photograph, my brother steers the ship
Hand over hand, navigating through surf and spray
He stands resolute on the deck
Feet (smaller than my hand) firmly planted
Socks irregular heights from the heat of combat
Tousled hair as the wind gusts
Eyes focused on the ship's wheel
Hand over hand, the fearless captain

Overhead, the clouds turn ashen
Blue is slowly being devoured
The sun still beats
Through a window in the heavens
Enough to take the sting off the breeze (no, the gale!)
The spritz the captain feels is the lawn sprinkler
But don't tell him that
Hand over hand, the stout leader

Moments before, he was cheering on his men
He dashes up the stairs
To guide the ship past yet another disaster
In his ears, cannons are roaring
Seagulls caw, debris splashes
A bullet whizzes past his ear
Unperturbed, he knows his duty
Hand over hand, the unyielding commander

You may see protective plastic
But he knows where he really is
The deck of a pirate ship
Hand over hand, my brother, the little sailor.

For Drew

This was an assignment for my poetry class. We had to write a poem based on an existing one (we could choose from like 4), with the same style and number of lines and all that. So mine is based on a poem called For Elizabeth Taylor. It's about a guy I work with at Starbucks. :)

For Drew

One of my first days on the job
you were a box-cutter casualty.
Refusing to look at your doubtlessly gruesome injury
I was disgusted, amused, laughing.
From the first week
You were a favorite coworker
An opinion I haven't lost.
Quick to encourage anyone
"You got it, you got it!"
Singing all the time
The unofficial voice of the store.
Spinning caramel bottles like a bartender
never a boring day when you're working
You tell me I'm beautiful
Indirectly, yet still powerful
Even as I write this I start to smile.
You make me laugh every day.
Totally inappropriate, totally hilarious
I can't imagine the store without you.
Month in, month out
I'll never take you for granted.
Unappreciated talent as a barista
It's true, everyone loves you.
You've taught me so much
even if you don't realize it.
Don't forget me when I leave, because
where'd I be without you?

Self-Portrait

Another assignment here! Based on the poem Fast-Talking Woman, don't remember who it's by. Anyway. This was supposed to be a poem about one's self, with a bit of a faster pace. I kinda like describing myself. :D

Self-Portrait

What am I?

The hopeless romantic
that's me.
Mind in the clouds
(In spite of life
or perhaps because of it?)
I think about love
(but am not in it)
No, that's wrong
I am in love
with music.

The artist
That's me as well
My fingers walk along
A sidewalk of black and white;
My perfume of choice is
Rosin and wood varnish
(Life without music
Is a desert.)

What else?
A contradiction
Order reigns on the job
(bedroom blanketed with clutter)
Words are few
(smiles are plenty)
Switchfoot on my iPod
(as well as Saint-Saens)
Trip over my own Keds
(yet still love dancing)

Is this me?
I can't tell
Add some intangibility.
Perhaps:
Dreamer,
musician,
contradiction,
and something more.

Learning to Breathe

This is inspired by the song of the same name by Switchfoot. Check it out sometime. :)

Learning to Breathe

Take a step outside
Stop
Think
Breathe.

Abundant sky
Unreproducible blue
Eternal
Unchanging
Deep

In this sea
Above my head
I can lose everything
Worries
Doubts
Fears

Floating away
Sinking
Gone

Rising sun
A fresh beginning
Clean

Tada!

Well, here I am! Welcome to my humble e-abode. As I mentioned in the "about me" of my profile, I started this blog for a couple reasons:

1. I wanted a place dedicated to my fledgling attempts at poetry.
2. When writing this poetry, I didn't want to be hampered by my thoughts of, "what would my friends think when they read this poem?" So I 'neglected' to tell the people I see regularly about this blog. (Also, partially because I don't think they really care.) So you boardie friends, consider yourself among the privileged, because I told you about this blog! ;)
3. I like writing blogs.

So I'm not that great at poetry yet. I just started doing it seriously a few months ago, and ended up signing up for a class called Writing Poetry this quarter at school. I've learned a lot from that class, and maybe this way I can keep those skills I've learned in use. Anyway, don't expect this poetry to be very great. I like to sort of wing it when writing poetry, because I think whenever I try to use a real "form" like a sonnet or whatever, it sounds really weird or cartoony. :P So you'll see a lot- if not all- free form.

You may also see a lot of Switchfoot references. For those of you who may have discovered this blog who don't know me previously, Switchfoot is my favorite band. EVER. In fact, the title of this blog is taken from a Switchfoot song, and the web address is from a quote by lead singer Jon Foreman. So if you don't like SF, you better not tell me! ;) Another great musical influence of mine is Anberlin/Stephen Christian.

Well, that's about it. I just recently discovered I could watch the show Lost online for free, and since I've never seen it, I decided to start watching it a few days ago. I am officially addicted now. I'm about 2/3 of the way through season 1, pretty fun stuff.

Anyway. Peace and blessings, all! God bless.