goldenaurora85

Just thought I'd post up a few of the poems I've written lately.


( Sestina: The Sailboat )


( Ars Poetica )

I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've paid some dues
We've been to hell and back again
Through it all you're always my best friend
For all the words I didn't say,
And all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way


Eh, what can I say? I'm in a funk. Too impatient for my own good at best, and a ridiculous mess of tangled hair and strangled sobs at worst. You'll understand this Lizzie - and no, nothing else has happened. Yet.

Despite yesterday's snowfall and the ridiculously chilly weather this week, spring is definitely here. The doves are nesting in the tree outside my window again, and are therefore waking me up at tthe crack of dawn with their cooing. Trees are uncurling their silky green leaves, and the magnolia and cherry trees are in full bloom. Daffodils smile at me from the garden.

And now for the following, which I shall put behind a cut because it is ridiculously crude and possibly offensive, but utterly true. Normally I wouldn't say such a thing, but I need to say it to someone and can't, so it's a present to livejournal. Don't cross the cow field if you aren't prepared to step in the shit.

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( Jen's Ridiculous & Inexplicable Crudity. Prudes beware. )

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Kind of puts me into a bit of a panic. I want it to be spring, despite my love for winter. It's time for a change, and spring is just right for that. But knowing that it's now April has me going crazy trying to decide what courses to take next fall, if I should take something over the summer, and how my grades this semester are going to turn out.

Actually, spring makes me queasy, to be quite honest with you.

Enough of that, though, for the time being. Other things to think about. For instance, we're having a 50th wedding anniversary party for Gramma and Grampa on Saturday; I've been promoted to unofficial choir director status and henceforth have all of Danny's old songs and responses to learn for Palm Sunday and Holy Week; and I've got to get up to school today for a 1:30 meeting to decide the title of the new literary publication I've been suckered into editing for. Blah.

I'm truly holding out for June - I want it to be my birthday and the summer so badly I can't even believe it. Other than this? Not much. Ridiculous relationships and the like. I seriously don't think my standards are too high, either, but maybe it's because they're my standards. All I really want? Here's the laundry list of my top ten most desired things:

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1- Be comfortable with me.

2- Don't keep talking if there's nothing to say. Just being with someone in silence can sometimes say far more than filling the air with uselessness.

3- Make me laugh. School is rough, life is rough, and I've been to therapy due to circumstances not easily forgotten. I don't care if you tell me a corny joke, or some funny anecdote, or fall flat on your ass, or tickle me. Just make me laugh.

4- Never make me cry.

5- Take me out on nights I don't need to get to bed because I have school the next morning. The rest of the week, leave me alone. A quick phonecall / brief e-mail or two is fine, but don't bombard me, don't suffocate me, and remember that I need to breathe.

6- Don't try to possess me in any way. I am not yours.

7- Teach me something new, and let me teach you something in return.

8- Groom yourself. I don't care if you aren't Brad Pitt's long-lost twin, but appearances to matter to me. Be clean, floss, and deodorize. But if you go so far as to wax your brows, I just might laugh.

9- Play an instrument. Or if you can't, be able to talk about music. Different kinds of music, I might add, not just rap or blues or heavy metal. Likewise about movies. Watch them with me, whether it's Die Hard for the 80 millionth time because I love it, or Pretty Woman for the 80 millionth time because I love it.

10- Accept me for who I am. Never attempt to change me, or ask me to change myself.

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Personally, I don't see a problem with any of these things. I think they're very reasonable wants, but if anyone disagrees, please say so. I'd like to know what I've been doing wrong.

There are times when I truly believe I should have gone in for psychology, rather than bio. I think we can all safely agree that I indulge in analyzing people - particularly myself - far too often, and that I enjoy it far too much. Even if it leads to revelations that later shake my foundation and cause major upset.

Maybe it's because I feel that I am crazy. I know, I know - "crazy people don't know they're crazy. Crazy people think they're perfectly alright." But what if that isn't true? I mean, I'm not talking about the crazies who think inanimate objects converse with them, or who murder people because the seagulls are too loud. I'm talking the eccentric crazies, the crazies people meet and become friends with everyday and never really know they're friends with a crazy.

I reiterate - maybe I overindulge in self-analyzing because I feel that I am crazy. Things happen, and everyone handles those things differently. Some people turn out okay, some don't. And some walk the fine line, skate on the edge, and don't know which end they've emerged at. Personally, I feel I'm the latter.

What a lot of people - the sane, okay people - don't realize is this: It is possible to be reasonably happy and to still believe what I believe. You don't need to be biopolar, or manic depressive, or suffer from multiple personalities. I think I am reasonably happy. I don't suffer from general, inexplicable sadness more than a few days a month, which is normal. I have friends, which is normal. I participate in school and in the community - again, normal.

But I am crazy. This is the result of many a musing, of many self-analyzings. And this is the reason why I continue to self-analyze. I have this obsession with digging deeper, a ridiculous need to rip myself open and disect the causes and the consequent results of my craziness. Why do I do what I do on a day-to-day basis? It's funny, really, because the more I dig, the crazier I feel.

It makes sense in my head. But then again, you're reading the words of a crazy.

I've become severely lax in updating my poor livejournal. Although in my defense, it isn't really my fault. Nothing major has been going on and I don't really want to turn this into a play-by-play of my everyday dullness.

So instead I have another poem to post, although I don't really see how it could be a poem. The assignment was "Chronology," meaning we had to break down someone's life, an object's creation, blahblahblah, whatever we could think of and signify each event by dates. Personally, I see it more as prose than poem.

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( A Condensed History of Leila )

Another poem, this one was an "Ekphrastic." Strange word, I think it's probably Greek, but it just means a poem about some form of visual art. I chose Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, as seen below.

Clickie the linkie to see the piccy...

Poem is behind the cut, as follows:


( The Birth of Venus )

Your Birthdate: June 7

You are an island. You don't need anyone else to make you happy. And though you see yourself as a loner, people are drawn to you. Deep and sensitive, you tend to impress others with your insights. You also tend to be psychic - so listen to that inner voice! Your strength: Your self sufficiency Your weakness: You despise authority Your power color: Maroon Your power symbol: Hammer Your power month: July

Another poem ... an epistle this time, which is just a fancy word for a letter. Personally, I don't know how a letter counts as a poem, but here's mine. Opinions?

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( Septic )-----

The latest poem, due in twenty minutes ... subject was "Write your own obituary." Lots of fun (insert sarcasm) but easy enough to do. Does it sound like I wrote it in seven minutes?

*****

Friday

I was born on a Friday.
Abandoned, broken.

I should like to die on a Friday,
if only for old times’ sake.
Wind in my face and sand rough
beneath my hands as waves roll
across the beach, never-ending.

Wait until the last lovely strokes
of color fade from the sky,
until moonlight shines,
looking like diamonds afloat
upon the surface of the sea.

And they will say, Death
was peaceful. Not like life.

*****

Not much new lately to update on, at least not much that I feel like updating on. Went out last Wednesday with Rob for sushi, and to the movies with Danielle on Friday. We saw 16 Blocks with Bruce Willis, and commiserated over the stupidity of the male race (sorry, Bob).

Anyway, I've been taking a break from writing things lately, but I just came across an old bit of fanfiction I wrote a while back, and I figure I'll stick it up. Not HP-based - it's the mutants instead.

*****
( Read more... )

*****

So although I know the Kell-y has this one, let it be known that I did not steal it from her! ... I stole it from someone else. lol

~~~
Four jobs I've had:
• Funeral / other-special-events singer at St. Anthony's
• Counselor at High Rock Park summer day camp
• Part-time nanny
• Bio lab technician (so it wasn't paid ... I still got to play with cool things)

Four movies I can watch over and over:
• 1776
• Stigmata
• Pirates of the Caribbean
• The Fugitive

Four places I have lived:
• Melvin Ave.
• Victory Blvd.
• Bloomfield, NJ
• WinterClove Inn

Four TV shows I love to watch:
• Lost
• Grey's Anatomy
• Amazing Race
• American Idol (another one for the guilty pleasures list ... lol)

Four places I have been on vacation:
• Cancun, Mexico / the Yucatan Peninsula
• London, England & surrounding points
• Rome, Venice, & Florence, Italy
• Quebec, Canada (I'm very international, aren't I? Next up: either Ireland or Germany!)

Four of my favorite dishes:
• Mac & cheese
• Sushi (particularly California and tuna rolls)
• Ravioli, tortellini, or manicotti
• Lobster

Four websites I visit daily:
• Hotmail.com
• google.com
• LiveJournal.com
• fictionpress.com

Four places I would rather be right now:
• Floating down the Grand Canal in Venice
• Lying on the grass in the middle of Stone Henge
• Disney World
• Australia

No classes today, and yet I was still up at the damned crack of dawn. Was in need of a shower before I took my poor little Slytherin mobile over to Ford to have them fix my dashboard panel wiring at 7:00 am. Dad drove me home, and though I desperately wanted to go back to sleep, I could not.

Why, you ask? A 9:30 funeral mass to sing for. Which meant getting to the church at a quarter to the hour to brush up on the songs a little. And sing Will decided he just wasn't going to show up to set up the church, Father John and I rushed around like chickens without heads at 9:25 to get everything together in time. Annoying, but it scored me an extra ten dollars.

Other than that, I've been cranking out another poem for class, due in five minutes, and sent on its way. It's crappy, in my humble opinion, but what can I say? I had absolutely no brilliant wording for this one. "Create A City." My problem is, I had really strong visuals in my mind, but couldn't get them out on paper. So it is what it is, and there's no changing it now.


( Come With Me )

~~~

A List of Guilty Pleasures
(I'm bored -- do I really need a reason?)

1. Alan's Hands
They aren't long and slender, but they're constantly moving. Watch any of the man's movies, and he's always doing something with his hands. Frankly I, for one, find this fascinating.

2. Accents
Clipped British, Scottish or Irish brogue, Southern twang, Brooklynese ... accents are exciting, and sexy beyond all measure. I agree that it's nice to have some eye candy, but I like giving my ears something to lap up, too.

3. Skating With Celebrities
Why? I despise pretty much anything on FOX 5, but for whatever reason, I'm drawn into this show. Probably because I have a secret obsession with Lloyd Eisler.

4. Snarky Bastards
The sarcasm, the disdain, the silky smooth verbal attacks, and of course the oh-so-dignified tantrums when things go awry. If there's anything out there sexier than an accent, it's a snarky bastard with an accent. I secretly love the allure of trying to "tame" this character, as well as the ultimate failure you just know is coming your way after said attempts to tame. Give me a snarky bastard, and I will be happier than a pig in ... well, you know.

5. Wuthering Heights
When in need of a heartbreaking, chilling love story, where do I turn? To Ms. Bronte, of course! To the snarkiness of Heathcliff, to the passion of Catherine, to their doomed love and lives!

6. Simon Cowell
This one confuses me, too. He's not all that attractive, he's only happy when he's making money, and he leaps fantastically and with such ease back and forth across the fine line between snarky and shit-mean. Still, I can't help but feel drawn in by him.

7. Villains
They're slick, well-dressed, and impeccably groomed. Not to mention that they're just so much more multi-dimensional than the hero of the story! After all, who doesn't admire the riches, or long for the uber-cool weapons. Who can resist thinking that Darth Vader is just too awesome for words? And there's always the fact that they usually (a)have accents; or (b)are snarky bastards.

Mid-way through the week and I'm exhausted. Thank God I only have Calculus tomorrow -- no poetry class means my weekend officially starts at 10:00 am, although I still have another poem due by Friday afternoon. "Create a City." Sounds ... fun-ish, I suppose.

Had a memorial mass last Saturday to sing for -- all in Latin and il bello italiano -- and then I took the sibs ice skating. I confess, I am horrible at it, but I just love it so much! Sunday I watched the boys for Mary from 9 to 3, then headed over to Dad's for the night and Monday ... with Jackie in tow. It's funny and a bit disconcerting how my sister likes coming to my father's house with me, although this was the first time she's slept over.

And Sasha just loved her! We blew up the air mattress and stuck it next to my bed, and the kittens were playing tag ... going under my bed, around the mattress, over Jackie's legs, and back around again. It was so adorable. I'll be heartbroken when they're not little babies anymore.

Other than all of that, nothing much has been going on in the last few days. Paying bills, trying to decide over where to look for a job, going to classes, and being bored in general. I'm so dull. Although the boys are coming home on break this weekend, so that should liven things up a bit. I already have a long-awaited and much-anticipated sushi night with Rob planned out, so yay! Anyway, must be off.

Until later, mon ami. Kisses!

Happy Birthday, Alan!

I can't believe the man is sixty already. How time flies. I still love him, anyway.

~~~

( Read more... )

The Darker Side ...

Swiping from Kelly /Again/ - Click Away & Lemme Know What Y'all Really Think of Me

Not a very eventful weekend here at Dad's, but restful, I must say. Escaped the madhouse early Friday afternoon and got out here just before my stepmum, which gave me a bit of time to play with the kittens. We got Sasha about a month ago, and Dad picked up little Tazzie last Thursday evening.

Sasha, being the territorial female bitch that she is, was very adamant about not letting Tazzie use "her" toys, "her" scratching post, "her" litter box, etc. But by Sunday morning they were playing together, chasing each other around, and being downright adorable. I have to get Dad's camera disk loaded into the computer so I can post some pictures ...

Anyway, heading home in a bit (it was fantastic to have today off, especially considering we got about three feet of snow) but I'm posting up another poem I wrote for class. Requirements? Five stanzas, each one about one of the five senses, and no rhyming.


( Sepulture )

Another semester, another settling of the weights back onto my shoulders. But somehow it doesn't seem as burdensome this time ... yet. Right now, I really enjoy the classes I'm taking so far. Genetics and Botany are going well, and I think I'm really going to enjoy the labs for those two. I'm even doing my best to keep an open mind about Calculus. And Poetry is fun, although ...

My professor is insane. In a good way, though, I'm finding. She reminds me, to a certain degree, of Physics Comito, although she has that literary-craziness that only truly artsy people can possess.

No tests in her class, which is excellent. We have to participate and analyze the poems we read - it's an open discussion class - and write 12 poems based on different things throughout the course of the semester. The first poetry assignment was called "Word Bank," and we had five words that were mandatory for the poem: eclipse, face, hallway, chicken, and fuck.

I'm sticking up my poem - any opinions, anyone?

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( White Trash Fantasy )

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Leave a list of fictional characters in your journal that you would love to get a message from. It is your friend-list's mission, should they choose to accept it, to write you an in-character "letter" from a character on that list. Then they post their own list in their journal and the process continues!

1) Severus Snape (Harry Potter) ... um, duh?
2) Han Solo (Star Wars) ... again, duh?
3) Minerva McGonagall (Harry Potter) ... Lizzie, you made me love the old girl even more
4) Scar (The Lion King) ... of course, he'd have to dictate rather than write
5) Scarlett O'Hara (Gone With the Wind)
6) Sawyer (Lost)
7) John Adams (1776) ... snarky in colonial garb, yay!
8) Elphaba (Wicked)