Lunchtime

Dear Readers,
So sorry for my long absence! It has just been a crazy semester so far, so much so that I'm still trying to prune my schedule of anything excess. For example, I dropped chamber singers this week because it was much more stress than it was worth. But readers, I've been writing poetry! Although this is a requirement for my creative writing class, I can feel myself getting better and better at poetry - its fantastic! Sometimes I read my old poems and laugh at how much image I crammed into those lines, while now I look for the one image that will be convey my experience exactly. So readers, without further ado, I give you my latest poem; I'm not saying its perfect, but I feel pretty proud of this one. Let me know what you think!

Lunchtime, February 16, 2010

Today the black tar asphalt sizzles
beneath our tires.
I can’t breath; the air lies down upon us
like an old man slumped in his rocker,
but here I am, stuffed in this blue sedan, surrounded
by Snickers wrappers.

How can Allison and Kat not care
that my stomach feels
like an empty plastic bag?

If only I could reach up,
pluck the sun
from the egg-blue sky - peel back
the rich skin and squeeze the juice,
let it burst
from the packets of flavor wrapped
inside to leave tears of sticky sweetness
down my salty face.

Comments to a

Dear Readers,
I'd almost lost hope in my love for poetry, that is before I wrote this poem! Its just that my semester is absolutely crazy!!! I have no time for fun things like writing poems - I'm always reading for my religious studies courses, both of which are GEs which makes them annoying rather than fun. But readers, even though I don't even have time to be writing this, I wanted to share this small sonnet I just completed for tomorrow's creative writing class. I'm not a big fan of sonnets, so I didn't really have a purpose when I started writing this. But I think it turned out pretty well, so let me know what you all think!

Comments to a red rose

Once in these petals, soft as night, that blur
into my rusted gate, bees took their fill
of sweet white wine. The golden nectar
that drizzled down their legs fell on your frills,
your sweet red dress then stained with amber jewels.
I watched awhile on those blue steps before
the door leaned into me, the handle cool
upon my fingers. Winter comes in poor
disguise - your petals blackened in dismay,
pooling around the earthen pot set out
to catch the final boat of the sun’s rays.
And now, the stiff air that runs throughout
the rooms meets my lungs, tightens the gap
between our worlds - my present to unwrap.