#realtalk

The worms from my eraser
crawl across my paper
from all my erasing
there's no escaping

gotta write this poem
before I can roam
and do what I wanna do
and that's be there with you

but its not the weekend
when I have time to spend
doing things for myself -
not reading from the shelf

or writing cafe ryhmes
about complaining times
trying to get the "A"
Its like my payday

but all eraser worms
turn into butterflies churned
in my stomach I confirm,
"this is all I learned."

I can't see the forest for the trees
my metamorphosis only Harold Miner sees
this terrible poem must end
so screw fourth period - its the weekend!

Fatties Should Not Wear Bikinis

I was peacefully catching the sun's rays when a sea monster must've washed up onto shore. It immediately began downing alcohol. The ground shook each time it fell over. I ran all the way back to my hotel, locked the 3 locks on the door, pulled the drapes shut, and hid behind the bed. Please don't wear a bikini if you are 5 foot 6 and 220 pounds.

Do You Remember?

I remember my first kiss... up on a hill overlooking the valley. Everyone told me I was too young to kiss a girl but thats just because I was ahead of the game.

I remember the look my dog gave me when she was going to sleep for the last time. Her eyes told me it was okay, that she understood, and she was able to rest. I'm sure she's God's best bird dog.

I remember when Santa was real. I could never sleep on christmas eve. I'd sleep in the same room with all of my siblings and play board games. 

I remember my mom tickling my face with her hair every week when I'd get bored in sacrament meeting.

I remember picking all of my grandma's neighbor's flowers for my grandma. 

I remember seeing the sun set at 12:30am and coming back up at 3:30am. 

I remember the first time I shaved. I asked my dad how to shave and what to do. He said, "you put the razor to your face and cut the hairs." I guess I did alright.

I remember when the girl crawled under our table in first grade and kissed TJ's leg.

I remember walking home from school every day. My brother was always my best friend. I remember my mom sobbing when he told her he wasn't going on a mission.

Lonely Chairs

This chair isn't the saddest chair I have ever seen, but I can remember the saddest chair perfectly.

The school felt no different after a good long Christmas break. Until I went to physics.

I sat down and glanced over to my left a couple rows of seats and noticed the empty desk. I stared at the empty seat. Every other desk was happy to have their student aboard but the empty desk seemed to be forgotten. The chair looked so empty and lonely.  I imagined how it would've been if the desk was filled. I wanted the seat to be filled. I missed how it was before the break.

I looked back to the front of the room trying not to think about it. The teacher began the class by making a new seating arrangement. The desk was filled, the student forgotten, and school went on just as it had before the break.

But I will never forget that empty chair.

More Blackout

How to Hide a Hickie

For Guys:
First of all congrats! I don't know why you'd want to cover it up anyways? I'd be showing it off? Unless she's a fatty. I've heard that icing it then putting heat to it and massaging it will make the blood dissipate out of it faster but who knows if that works? Maybe try breaking into your mom's or sister's make up center and do a terrible patchy touch up job that will probably draw more attention anyways.. I'd say your best bet is to walk around and when people look at you weird, just smile and say that she was hot.

For Girls:
This is easier for you gals. Wear a scarf. But if its the middle of July and 100 degrees outside, you could try covering it up with makeup instead. Or maybe try the icing then heat then massaging that I mentioned above but who knows if that will work anyways? Last resort and probably the worst idea - say that you burned yourself with your curling iron? I don't know the best option. All I know is you need to make sure to not let your dad see the damage.

A Letter to the Inanimate

Because people mostly suck.

Thanks for being there. 

My speakers - for muffling out the sound of the living.

My pen - for doing what I want you to do. And for not being afraid to leave your mark

My netflix - for stealing my mind from life.

My bed - we have the perfect relationship. But she can be a little clingy..

My clothes - even though you don't have much sweg, thanks for hiding me

My shoes - you've got sweg. And you're good to my feet.

My alarm clock - even though I pound you with my fist 4 times each morning, I'm glad you're there.

My shower - for washing and refreshing me after a long day.

My tooth brush - there's no way I could go a day without you.

My car - I feel like I use you too much.. 

P.s. - the grill has been short-tempered lately..

 

Blackout

Here's Different

I ate two sugar cubes at 11:30pm. It was the beginning of something different.


I never understood what people meant when they said that closed-eye visualizations were powerful. But after about 2 hours, when I closed my eyes it was like they reopened and I fell backwards at an angle and saw a city, ferris wheels, lights, and stuff. 

I remember I ate a lot. The food wasn't falling into my stomach though. But either way, eventually the pit was filled.

 The room changed colors like a room lit at night by a night light. Shapes changed shape. 

I got in bed and couldn't sleep no matter what I tried. I couldn't seem to close my eyes. But I was very.. very.. tired.

Gravity seemed to be orbiting me. I couldn't tell which way I was facing. I soon didn't exist, but I was still thirsty.

It took forever, but was very fast.
Time was hiding.
Order had died.

There are a lot of mysteries that life will never solve. We shouldn't ask who put us here or why. But we should be focused on what we must do while we are here.

The Point to Life?

I can't find an answer to that question. Does religion have an everlasting meaning?

We are born into a bottomless existence. We "live" on a tiny speck of space called Earth, which is also just a speck as well in the galaxy, which is also just a speck in the infinite universe. All you can ever become is worthless bones on a puny little speck of dust called earth. Does anyone else think human beings are just limited and death is unfair? What's the point of "Heaven", "Hell" or "Brahman" or any other thought up consciousness? I've never really understood heaven. What's the point of living in heavenly existence if that is also meaningless? I think whatever the case, it is very repetitive and meaningless. 

Since life is such an unexplained mystery, how painful is it that we are alive? As I've spent time thinking about all of this, I have started to think that religions are just there to help people become more and more ignorant to the fact that we are all meaningless. 

But what if you hate atheism as much as you hate religion?

So if someone doesn't belong to any category, then whats the point of waking up every morning? When you get to that conclusion it seems like suicide is the best way to stop your brain, no responsibility, no depression, no aspirations, worries or anything else. Isn't that the perfect drug? 

It is all so vain. Every natural human desire. Love, Sex, Art, etc. People getting fatter, people getting leaner, hunks and jocks vs artsy fags and then usual joes. Movies, learning, working, writing this blog post, socializing... Why?

I wish my friend would've never asked that question during lunch that day. My brain has been overheating ever since. I could've kept living in ignorance. And then died.

Why do we have doctors, laws, police, prisons, why do our bodies fail, why do we have anything. Because our "anything" is almost like a pretend land which feels more like nothing.

This whole life could just be a dream or a thought.

Should I just conform to the regular? And just "live it up?" Would there be a point to doing that?

Life just seems very repetitive. Are religions there just to help cope with the fact that we die and rot? What is the purpose of living? To continue the life of our species? Why? What are we living for? 

My Way or the Highway

Ever since the day I was given a name to be called by and a body to rent, people have been trying to persuade me. Everyone believes their way is the right way and the only way.

But its time to make my own choices.

Time for me to decide what the right choice is. 

Time to become self-dependent.  

Time to be vulnerable to judgement.

I've started to forget about my family, friends, teachers, leaders, etc. and make choices for me.

I've started to make the choices that I like; the choices that satisfy me.

I know myself better than anyone else.

I've started to leave my fingerprint. It's different than yours.

And it feels good

"We're actors in our lives, pretendin' to be who we want people to think we are.".

I read that recently in the book "Perfect Chemistry." It made me think of this class and how we have to hide behind pen names to be able to express our true feelings. We hide behind our pen names in fear of being discovered and known. We fear other people's judgement. We fear being different, but its impossible to not be.

Ain't Nobody Messin' Wit My Clique

I've decided recently that every school has the same cliques. We all say that we shouldn't stereotype people but its easier that way. You already know a lot about someone just by what clique they're in. So here is a list of the cliques that every high school has:

Preps
Goths
Geeks
Band Geeks
Book Worms
Hicks/Rednecks
Nerds
Punks
Skaters
Drama People
Choir People
"Special People"
Indies
Gangstas/Wangstas/Wiggers
Cliques By Sport
Tomboys
Druggies/Alcoholics
Cheerleaders
Class Clowns

Do Grown Men Cry?

Grown men don't sob

Have you ever wondered why?

There in the shower

the best place to cry

From start to finish

They go all through

The red eyes they have

Are from "soap or shampoo"

You never hear them

Understand how?

The shower's noise

And music up so loud

They go until forever

Until the daybreak

The water runs cold

"That's why they shake"

That Shiny Guy

Do we know the moon?

We constantly ignore the moon. He comes out each night as we go in. We ignore him as he scans the sky. 

He's far away. Was the moon cast out? Made fun of? Why did he leave us? 

At least he's consistent. I know he'll be there when the sun decides to quit. 

He is all alone. But I know he likes us. He pulls on the ocean and gives us waves, light in darkness, and watches over us while we sleep. What do we give to the moon?

We met the moon once. We landed on his face like an annoying fly. Then we stuck a stick in his eye and claimed him as ours.

But he went along with it. 

It's Time For A Change

Lately I have been feeling like nobody can see me. I feel like the world is passing me by. I feel like no one cares.

This has only just been recently. I don't feel accepted by the people around me and I don't know why. I try to include myself with them but I always feel like I am just a burden. Now that I am seeing it more obviously I only want to remove myself further.

I think I am just lonely. I can usually spend hours alone. I haven't gotten sick of it until now. All of my friends seem to be doing fine fitting in.. What is wrong with me?

Am I really a pain to be around? Or is it just me feeling that way?

I want to fix this. I want these days to go back to how they used to be. I want to be included. People hardly come up to talk to me. It changes my day when they do.. I feel like I'm just bitching and I'm sorry to whomever reads this. It's time for a change.  

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The Moments

Remember the first day?
Things changed, no longer play.
It was canyon fires,
a contiguous contour
welded together in loves every hour
the invigorating beckon of blankets
watching your eyes succumb to sleep
your sweet face, gently sealing me in a locket
remember them and forget the aftermath
they've gone by that's why its past
relive the moments they're the things that last

Market

covered in the shadow of the day
cloudy days bring rain
cloudy days bring balance
and everybody feels pain

you don't think about breathing
unless you're drowning
here comes the flood
now you feel a heart pounding

dust lingers int he corners
have we not covered them all?
covering everywhere
this great big ball

tragedy is the quarter on the ground
I pick it up every time
a pocket sagger laughs and tosses
another to be mine

Does the prideful mans back hurt?

Does the prideful mans back hurt?
will his eyes ever fall to the ground?
is he blind in his path of travel?
for what he is, for what he could have found

is a sorrowful mans throat swelled?
could he speak and recognize his own name?
does the mirror hide his happiness?
does he long into it for something that never came?

will a lost mans feet hurt?
never walking on the right path
do they long to be going somewhere?
or are they waiting for the aftermath

does a happy mans cheeks hurt?
his refuse to hide his yellow teeth
will the smile ever stop?
or be in the coffin
when he chooses to cease?

Can't Stop Love

Lust in scarlet

Dreams often dusted

Christmas to a child

Can't compare to my beating heart

To love a rose and resist

denial drops and all will crumble

A two mirror thought

compassion in my mind

no dam holds back the water

All yell warning

and distrust

I pity confusion

Don't stop love