The coursing beat
Picks up my feet
Urging me forward
I tap my fingers
Swing my hips
And taste the lyrics
With moving lips
The slow notes calm
A soothing balm
For overworked nerves
My music feeds
My ear’s diverse needs
My music speaks
When I don’t know what to say
My music keeps me going
Through life’s every fray
Music listened
Is an expression
Of what I believe
Of what I want
Of feelings and ideas
It represents me
My music
IS me
So, I wrote this last night. Inspiration is unclear still, but it seemed apropos considering it’s my birthday, even if it’s a little depressing. So much has happened in this year alone, I feel ninety instead of sixteen. New school, new city, new friends, LOVE (which wasn’t something I had to deal with at my last school). I promise at some point here I will get around to everyone’s pages. Recent personal happenings are keeping my schedule a little erratic.
Cheers from the new old lady 😉
There was a time so long ago
When my feet touched nothin’ but rainbow
I skipped
And I hopped
I ran
And I danced
Me myself and I
Needed no romance
The sky was blue
And the grass was green
Everything I had
Was all I could need
No worries
No pain
No cold hard truth
My worst hurt was when
I lost a baby tooth
Reality was too big
For my naive eyes to see
My world was so small
I bounced of its walls with glee
And my feet touched nothin’ but rainbow
Colors shimmered and scattered
With my every footfall
Dropping down like painted tears
Of course I thought they were only rain
Tears are for those who have experienced pain
That rainbow was once so wide
I had to run a mile to the other side
It slowly shrank
As I grew up
Until I was on tip toes
And then one day
POOF!
I fell down
Off my rainbow
Like a bird from its nest
It had just disappeared
And so childhood’s fog cleared
I knew not where to go
Having lost my compass of a rainbow
For a while I was lost
And I probably still am
It’s much harder to find one’s way
On crude, solid land
My pot of gold exists somewhere
And I’ll keep on looking
Even though life’s not always fair
Whisper, whisper in the dark
Poison arrows hit their mark
Shredding me up inside
Soul debris in constant collide
The chance to know starts to entice
Thirst for knowledge, such a vice
That slippery gray truth it will
My soul and sanity slowly kill
Like an addicted cat I want to know
That thing that taunts my eyes to and fro
Don’t tempt me, damn curiosity
The end to this torture I cannot see
It’s pure masochism, I suppose
This desire for a truth that nobody knows
Oh Converse, oh Converse shoe
Nowhere is where I’d be without you
We’ve been everywhere together
And braved all sorts of weather
You’re dirty and you’re torn
And blissfully well-worn
You never go out of style
And make long walks worth their while
Long thin laces that never come untied
You make me go all starry-cross-eyed
My feet feel guilty in other shoes
Days without you are simply the blues
Stay with me and I’ll serenade you with verse after verse
I swear to be faithful for better or worse
– This is the poem I had on my blackout page yesterday. I decided to post it again for those of you who may have missed it and also because the protest may be over, but the bill is still in existence and that is unacceptable. My poem is applicable to this bill, but also to all other forms of censorship. As an avid reader, the banning of books has always been something that is especially wrong to me.
I was planning on choosing one quote as a representative for my feelings on censorship, but I could not choose, and here they all are:
“You can cage the singer but not the song.” ~Harry Belafonte, in International Herald Tribune, 3 October 1988
“The paper burns, but the words fly away”. ~Akiba ben Joseph
“Censorship is telling a man he can’t have a steak just because a baby can’t chew it.”
― Mark Twain
“When you ban a book you ban an idea, and that’s communism.”
– Andrea Z. 🙂
Hold back the curtain
Don’t let the wretched thing fall
Come to freedom’s SOS call
Ideas are truth and they are free
How dare they hide them so the people can’t see
Writer’s, join your hands
Preserve the freedom of this land
We are the backbone
Of every revolution
We are the first ember
Of a raging fire
Sing with this written choir
Raise our standard ever-higher
Quills raised and held in an iron-tight grip
Ban the despot that is censorship
– This is a poem I have been needing to write for my entire life. It’s my first step to healing the wounds my father has inflicted upon me. You can grasp much of the situation from my verses, but I will tell you more. My father has never provided for me. He does not pay child support or medical bills or anything. My brave, strong, and amazing mother has done everything for me. They treat her like crap, him and his female dog of a wife. He tries to make me feel guilty about not coming to visit him and about asking him to pay for my school trips.
This is, I realize, a very angry and vengeful poem and I hope someday I will be able to write one that is not as much so, but that day seems eons away from this one.
Not once did you apologize
For all those lies
The endless stream of excuses
A brilliant rage in me induces
Fake paternal love
Is the poison arrow shot
By a cruel hunter at a naive dove
Someday I will make you pay
For treating my mother and I this way
You have no right to chide me
For pointing out the truth
You are an irresponsible child
And make me look like an adult
By never doing as you should
I’d shoot your foot if I could
When I am older
I will rain down on you
A thousand legal boulders
One by one they’ll crush
Till of you there’s naught but mush
Even then I will not have my revenge
My ire will someday fully be released
And all you’ll be able to do is cringe
Words flowing
Thoughts stirring
Mind whirring
Pencil writing
Nail biting
Eraser clearing
Lines smudging
Self editing
Idea combining
Hopes climbing
Intense debating
More erasing
Writing is
So frustrating
Verse Not Prose 