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Last Updated: 5/18/2009

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Gender: Female
Status: Single
Age: 18

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[12 Jun 2009 | Friday] 1:36

Current mood:  angsty
Category: Writing and Poetry
it has been so long since my last post I am ashamed of myself...  please read and enjoy.  i was inspired by my pastor's sermon to write this.  i hope it speaks to you.

Pain as Wine
 
5.31.09
 
There is a fine wine, bottled up until aged
Placed in a dark cellar:  It is called pain.
The wine has been tasted, bottled, and dated
From the past, stomped on, not an instant wasted.
 
Some drink this wine with each of their meals
Toasting every wound that never healed.
Sipping the drink letting it rest on their tongue
Closing their eyes as each memory is hung.
 
Others toast with friends over hors d'oeuvres
Feeding together as the taste they observe.
Together they stew and together they steep
As down their throats the aged wine seeps.
 
The wine is stored for next generations
To uncork and partake in those same sensations
And as the taste is reviewed, memories are unearthed
And the wine’s value has reassumed its worth.
 
Bottles in a cellar and stacked one by one
Pain never resolved; wrongs never undone.
Who’s ignoring their hurts?  Who is drunk on their wine?
All is bottled away and then left to time.
 
 
Currently listening:
Dignity
By Hilary Duff
Release date: 2007-04-03
[21 Jan 2009 | Wednesday] 20:13

Current mood:  bouncy
Category: Art and Photography
I went.  I think I walked 10 miles.  It was SO worth it:
 
http://flickr.com/photos/detailswe4sake/sets/72157612773071265/
[12 Nov 2008 | Wednesday] 6:58

Current mood:  blah
Category: Writing and Poetry

My 6th Sense

*inspired by a reading of The Scarlet Letter, where the main character describes how, because her affair was exposed, she all of a sudden can discern the wrong in other people as if it's an extra sense.  She is described as being able to judge beyond the smirks and gossip of her supercilious peers and see that they're not much better than she is, and that it's but a matter of time before they get exposed and shamed like she did...

 

I acquired a sixth sense when my sin was exposed
And how to use it, I've yet to know
But it's an awareness, some feeling or sight
That makes me see as the souls of men fight

I wake up each day, and others can see
My sin that was exposed publicly
But in their eyes, my sixth sense discerns
The sins that, like hell-fire within them do burn

I look around as people ridicule
I'm a pillar of shame, a bastard, a fool
Formerly dear friends now whisper my name
If but to disparage, but to defame

But my new sense of sight, or feeling or smell
Is a form of sense that helps me to tell
That I'm not alone, I have many companions
Whose sins are yet to be seen or abandoned

Silence is worn on the face of my foes
Who know they're in wrong; and that I'm not alone…
I see in their eyes, the pain I once suffered through
Morning in tears and nighttimes in stew

Men celebrate their discovery of my sin
But now I'm blessed to see what they hold within
No longer do I see my condemners, my judges
But I see their souls' closets, their own sins, their grudges

From men in power, to a man on the streets
I see the transgressions in all I meet
Who, looking my way, see that I recognize
A man of integrity from a man living lies

No sinners can hide from me very long
I discern quickly, and I'm rarely wrong
And when our eyes meet, no matter where
There's a knowledge in each and we're both aware

Though I was put away, to live as if in a room
There are others around me who too share my doom
Who live their lives in hypocrisy
Who, through closet bondage cannot live free

This odd discernment is uncommon to man:
Some unearthly awareness that evil's at hand
Imparted through sympathy, or a look from the eyes
Some sin is leading a man to demise

It makes me look twice, as I walk through a crowd
At the knowing look in the eyes all around
I have a friend there, or he's sinned like me
Or her lifestyle's lived in regret and misery

My eyes see through souls, my thoughts hear their voices
I smell their demons; feel the pang of their choices
I taste the blood from homicides forbidden
That I see on hands; to me it's not hidden

When I sleep, their faces emerge in my head
As I dream of them living, and then of them dead
People see my wrongs, and I see theirs
But they have no clue, they're unaware

My sixth sense works so well, sometimes it scares me
How I can discern those who, like me, are sinning
Those who do wrong behind their closed gates
And emerge with their cloak of snoot, perfection and hate

Emerge from your closets, you workers of doom!
Your sin's no good inside your heart's room!
Confess and be free, don't let wrong condense
Lest it give soul to my new sixth sense…

Currently listening:
The Best of Anita Baker
By Anita Baker
Release date: 2002-06-18
[16 Oct 2008 | Thursday] 21:00

Current mood:  breezy
Category: Writing and Poetry

Show Me a Poet
By Chimaen

 

Show me a poem that's written and appreciated as art

A prose that bears eloquence which has flowed from a heart

Show me a true poet, whose words flow gently from his mind

And, in turn I shall show you a close friend of mine.


Too many of today's "poets" confuse poetry with rhyme

And they spew words on crumpled paper not caring if they're sublime

They let the issues of their life determine what their pen so rudely rambles

Instead of letting inspiration marinate, letting their souls and words unscramble


Not enough respites are taken in these thought-deprived days

Too many write and rote until their writing starts to splay

Repetition means monotony, yet they think they're on a roll

Their words are yet amassing, but not coming from their soul


Show me a poet that knows to write well of life's situations

And can sort his words and curb his thoughts through the process of frustration

Yes! Impatient poetry avoids this process, which brings gold

And gives pig iron instead of steel from his mind's most precious mold


Show me a poet who is tact, whose work comes rarely, unrenowned

And I'll show you life's top student whose words ring quite profound

Whose words are tame, and not perverse, and come as few for waiting crowds

And never writes a vulgar thing, unless his heart allows


Show me a poet who knows the old writers' works' mystery

Who dedicates himself to studying and emulating the history

Of true poetry and prose, the beauty of a hidden song

Show me a poet such as that, and I'll not find him in the wrong


Show me a poet who is tender, whose words aren't clamoring like brass

Whose patience allows the clear exuberance of his deep feelings like glass

Show me a poet who takes the time to form a humble piece

And I will go as far as to say that the man has a friend in me.

Currently listening:
Nu Thang
By dc Talk
Release date: 1995-01-10
[10 Jul 2008 | Thursday] 14:03

Current mood:  artistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

Life is a gaunt, colourless woman of exposed ribs-

Body mangled, hair askance, stringy, and unruly-

Pushing a crowd of encroaching enemies away

Into a rainbow.
     -7.9.08

Currently listening:
Carry On
By Patti Austin
Release date: 1991-10-29
[01 Jul 2008 | Tuesday] 21:24

Current mood:  enthralled
Category: Writing and Poetry

As a child I sung
Thum de dum thum
As I walked by rivers
With my hair round my thumb

I dreamed of names
Such as cleo and james
To name my dollies
When I'd play my games

And I'd walk right along
(The rain'd sing my song)
And I'd see sun paint
Smiles on the sad throngs

Who can be a poet?
Can anyone know it?
For those who are great
Harvest what sowed it.

Do dreams grow on trees?
Can they be more than they seem?
Wishes feed on to realness
Just as diamonds when they gleam

You and I are pronouns
In the future that is unfound
And for ourselves we wrote that paragraph
That is yet to be unbound

I'd go along with thinking
Will my ships go without sinking?
And I'd then awake
With still not an inkling.

 

 

*just something i threw together...

Currently reading:
Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast
By Robin Mckinley
Release date: 2005-07-26