Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I don't really care for thinking up a title

Why does the story always end like this?
You're both tense, worried, stressed, tired, etc, whatever
WE KNOW, yeah we know, don't think we don't
we notice when you lash out at us but then,
then you reprimand each other for lashing out at us,
and then what happens? you both go quiet.
You make fun of her parents.
You defend yourself and your parents.

Then someone does a silly thing that affects no-one
for example: mommy pours ketchup on scrambled eggs,
daddy picks a fight over that, why????????
he says the little boy is old enough to ask first,
is he so spoiled that he cannot eat eggs without ketchup?
then it all goes downhill.

Eating habits are questioned, spiteful remarks spat out
family offended, feelings hurt,
someone storms out of the room.
Wait, where do we fit in?
Oh that's right, we're sitting there, quietly eating.
I am trying not to cry, my sister is eating
feigning a smile, my brother refuses to eat,
tonight he is not hungry and so mommy tries to get him to swallow
but she is still angry. She lashes out with her temper
she raises her voice, she threatens to take away tv privileges.
in his room daddy turns the tv up louder and louder,
laughing too hard, too loud, and too long.
I sit, trying not to cry, eat my food, clean the kitchen,
help until my siblings are clear of both tempers, then
then I hide in my room.
Under blankets and hugging my moose, I hear it all
the overcompensation efforts to seem strong on both sides,
the louder and louder clanking of pots and dishes in the kitchen,
the louder and louder volume of the tv in the master bedroom.
Half an hour, everything quiet now, I venture outside my cocoon
everyone feigning,like nothing happened
but feelings are hurt, egos deflated a bit,
nothing is really alright. I can see it,
in your actions, your words, your sullen silences.
Until you make-up, until you talk through it,
until the next time.

Monday, December 28, 2009

My oasis

The dinner affair has been taken care of.
Two college applications 89 percent complete.
The beginning stages of "goodbyes" have begun.
I am ready to escape.
I gently hug my plush moose to my heaving chest,
I prop open Conrad's Heart of Darkness on my lap,
I lose myself in the heart of Africa and the search for ivory
while my fingers get lost caressing my moose.
Utterly lost in the swirl of Marlow's stories
and in the comforting warmth of my moose, I escape
everything: worries and pain are but alien words now.
Coming to the little tuft of hair on top of his head,
just between his horns and his little ears,
I am brought out of my literary reverie
and to the sweet memory of the meaning behind my little plush moose.
The day you gave it to me, how happy I was,
oh how I love this moose, it reminds me of you,
my little moose comforts me like you do.
I lose track of time, forget my worries,
I smile, lost in my oasis.

Mrwrwrwrwrwrwrwr

My quietly observant, strict Roman Catholic, conservative, celiac grandmother sweetly sits next to me on my bed,
only a few moments ago, to begin saying her goodbyes.
She tells me to take care of myself, wishes me luck,
mentions that she may not be here for my graduation,
slips in a slight about a pretty prom dress, preferably red,
and burdens my conscience.

She begins to tell me all her worries about my mother:
she's getting too thin, she look emaciated sometimes you know?
she stresses out too much,
have you seen her skin? she might have arthritis.

My father: he's gained so much weight, his attitude towards help,
he needs to get some help, his anxiety,
you know there exists an AA type thing for obesity,
he refuses help and you know,
your mother got real sullen about this subject too.
Not just about his weight, I know there is more stress
that has nothing to do with you going off to college,
he needs help, sweetie, you know?

My brother: he spends absolutely too much time playing those ....
those games, his hands appear permanently holding a console,
he's gonna have social issues in school, you'll see.

She fails to mention my sister, and looks at me sideways ...
she says she doesn't really know how things are these days between young kids,
boyfriends and girlfriends, but if I'm to have "relations" .... she blushes ...
you know, I should just be careful not just with pregnancy but ...
she goes quiet and shuffles her feet, you know, with diseases.
Um apparently this is a really personal decision to make and she feels she is not one to preach or give anyone advice on when is the "best" time, but ...
you know, just be careful, honey.

She hugs me, unsmiling now, but not quite frowning.
She is pleased with her first goodbye, but I know more is yet to come.
I am left sitting alone on my bed with all her worries mixed with my own.
My own worries heightened by hers and her prodding,
her simple "you know?"s, god enough!!!
I think about all of this without you telling me,
I don't need to hear this from your point of view.
Now I'm overflowing with too much emotion, half of it not even my own.
Music is quietly playing, I wish it were blasting but it has to be subdued.
Why? Because "the show" is on and no one likes "my" music.
So I am left to stew in my thoughts ....
I'd like to go running right now, but it's too dark and too cold.
So I settle for quiet music and literally turning my back on my family while they eat and talk and smile those fake smiles because they all worry about each other and no one says anything to the person they SHOULD be talking to. No, they come to me and spill their worries like sand escaping through fingers.
And I am left coming here, to enjoy the beautiful sound of the clanking keys so fast and furiously

Untitled and undated (#27)

What else does one do when you finish the PSATs an hour a half earlier than everyone? You sleep, normal people would sleep, but nooooooooo, I doodled and wrote poetry for an hour and a half


Sitting, wondering, staring at your face,
your hands move backwards, slowly down.
Enslaving me here until sand runs out,
taking pleasure in my pain and misery.
STOP STARING AT ME!
Your hands have stopped, why?
Just fifteen minutes more and I would've been free.
Hurry, hurry along now little hands,
when is my time up? Ring bell ring,
release me from this internal hell,
allow me my freedom now!
In a trance, you move slowly as ever,
TOO slowly, you must rush
forward in time, allow me my freedom.
Boredom sets in
insanity
I'm talking to a clock!!!

How do you do it?

How do you do it?
Everyday I fall in love with you again,
your eyes I am lost in, and you,
you are lost in my thoughts.
Butterflies somersault in my stomach
and set off fireworks
at the mere thought of you,
cliche but you should know it's true.
Eye's opening wide,
knots in my throat,
why does it always feel like the first time?
I could lay with you forever,
you make me feel safe,
melt with every kiss,
I just know I love you.
how do I know?
Why me? Why you? How?
I don't know, so answer me this.
How do you do it?

Finally Quiet (#9)

Silence is beautiful, nothing heard ...
Yet always there remains something that
whispers words softly.
Breathing absent, the Heartbeat gone,
even your Thoughts are gone.
In a blank room, empty, no one else,
just you and the silence;
a light shines, above you angelic choirs
just for you and the silence.