whoodeleh hoo
soooooooo i turned in 3 of my poems for a high school peotry contests at UC. remember kids, April is poetry month! sooooo, give me hug or something. i dunno.
carlye's dragging me to sadies. i guess it has the potential of being fun.
of course with dances comes dress shoppin. i know sadies is an informal dance - will anyone be wearing a dress? i really don't want to ditch this image of me in a cute white dress, white heels and a black tie. *sigh* we'll see what comes.
anyway..
FUCK!! why the hell is this cut not fucking working?! sorry guys. fucken a....
Snow White
2/13/06
Another prime example
Of Snow White plucking the apple
And having all she’s wished for
‘Til the poison floods her brain.
Another great allusion
Of lust leading to confusion
‘Cause isn’t what it seems to be
What it really means?
What of it now my pretty?
Your face blue your dress all gritty.
You’re writhing on the ground because
You got just what you need.
It’s really a sad story
Ancient now, and bleak and gory
But not without a lesson
‘Cause Snow White thought she had it made.
* * *
Six Roses
Six beautiful roses,
Three white and three red.
Six breathtaking roses,
Every single one dead.
There stands Hope,
In her petals of white
Browning slowly but surely
Because of the light.
She was strong once,
But now her color is thin
And her leaves are so brittle
And there’s mold on her stem.
There stands Sorrow,
Almost brushing the ground.
She was never the reddest
But the deadest we’ve found.
The rigor is letting her
Stand on her own
But she just wants to be
Left alone.
And Forgiveness.
She hangs her white head too
'Cause her dried up old petals
Are sick of the view.
The bottom of the vase
For her’s just as dry
But she is the only one
Who hasn’t asked "why?"
There stands Anger,
Her rouge blackened with rot
And she was the last one
That we all forgot
Her stem is too rigid
To hold in the hand
Blaring deadly from the vase
She stands.
And sweet Innocence…
Whites and greens going dull
Fading just the way she did
As her reign softly fell.
She hasn’t yet really
Accepted her fate
So forever for water
She’ll wait.
Of course Love…
She made humans of us.
Now she turns her frail cheek
And remembers her blush.
Though nobody lingers
To wonder and see
How something so lifeless
Can still be so pretty.
Six beautiful roses,
Three white and three red.
Six breathtaking roses,
Every single one dead.
* * *
2/27/06
Writing doesn’t do no good
There’s nothing much to say.
I’m trying not to think of you,
Your aggravating way
Of winding around every thought
I take into my head,
Dictating my emotions, and
Turning my stomach to lead
The other night I had a dream
That the butterflies in me got free
Spilling from my stomach,
Taking thoughts of you and me.
They fluttered out with half my words,
And I never committed more sin
Than when I took the butterflies,
And stuffed them and their fearlessness in.
carlye's dragging me to sadies. i guess it has the potential of being fun.
of course with dances comes dress shoppin. i know sadies is an informal dance - will anyone be wearing a dress? i really don't want to ditch this image of me in a cute white dress, white heels and a black tie. *sigh* we'll see what comes.
anyway..
FUCK!! why the hell is this cut not fucking working?! sorry guys. fucken a....
Snow White
2/13/06
Another prime example
Of Snow White plucking the apple
And having all she’s wished for
‘Til the poison floods her brain.
Another great allusion
Of lust leading to confusion
‘Cause isn’t what it seems to be
What it really means?
What of it now my pretty?
Your face blue your dress all gritty.
You’re writhing on the ground because
You got just what you need.
It’s really a sad story
Ancient now, and bleak and gory
But not without a lesson
‘Cause Snow White thought she had it made.
* * *
Six Roses
Six beautiful roses,
Three white and three red.
Six breathtaking roses,
Every single one dead.
There stands Hope,
In her petals of white
Browning slowly but surely
Because of the light.
She was strong once,
But now her color is thin
And her leaves are so brittle
And there’s mold on her stem.
There stands Sorrow,
Almost brushing the ground.
She was never the reddest
But the deadest we’ve found.
The rigor is letting her
Stand on her own
But she just wants to be
Left alone.
And Forgiveness.
She hangs her white head too
'Cause her dried up old petals
Are sick of the view.
The bottom of the vase
For her’s just as dry
But she is the only one
Who hasn’t asked "why?"
There stands Anger,
Her rouge blackened with rot
And she was the last one
That we all forgot
Her stem is too rigid
To hold in the hand
Blaring deadly from the vase
She stands.
And sweet Innocence…
Whites and greens going dull
Fading just the way she did
As her reign softly fell.
She hasn’t yet really
Accepted her fate
So forever for water
She’ll wait.
Of course Love…
She made humans of us.
Now she turns her frail cheek
And remembers her blush.
Though nobody lingers
To wonder and see
How something so lifeless
Can still be so pretty.
Six beautiful roses,
Three white and three red.
Six breathtaking roses,
Every single one dead.
* * *
2/27/06
Writing doesn’t do no good
There’s nothing much to say.
I’m trying not to think of you,
Your aggravating way
Of winding around every thought
I take into my head,
Dictating my emotions, and
Turning my stomach to lead
The other night I had a dream
That the butterflies in me got free
Spilling from my stomach,
Taking thoughts of you and me.
They fluttered out with half my words,
And I never committed more sin
Than when I took the butterflies,
And stuffed them and their fearlessness in.