Monday, November 18th

• The room goes dark,
  the only light to be
  seen is a small flicker
  from the TV screen.
  Shuffling and whispering
  echoes the room.
  A light tap on
  the shoulder a
  brush on the lips.
  It's dark but not gloomy.

• The glow of the
  moonlit path.
  The wet touch
  of a tear drop
  running down your
  chin.
  Running, running
  into the unknown
  hoping they
  don't catch you.

• Clouds in my house,
  because I have no ceilings.

Monday, November 11th

• The ticking of a clock,
  60 seconds seem like
  light years.
  
  the distance it takes
  to get to you
  is one I could not manage.
  
  You pulled the pin
  on my time bomb,
  so close your eyes,
  and brace yourself.
  
  Up up and away.

• Right where your significance
  becomes less significant,
  
  Right where the light,
  peaks through the pines,
  
  Right where the snow capped mountains
  cap the captivity,
  
  Is where I find myself now.

• Silver bead clings to the pink muscle,
  Confusion of all parts. Bewilderment.
  
  Why am I related to you? Who am I?
  
  I wish I could go back to being your
  little innocent girl, who was satisfied with
  only a twirl, right up in your arms, out of harm.

• Which of us, in his ambitious moments, has not dreamed of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical, without rhyme and without rhythm, supple enough and rugged enough to adapt itself to the lyrical impulses of the soul, the undulations of the psyche, the prickings of consciousness.

Baudelaire, "Paris Spleen" 1836

Monday, October 28th

• Leaves flutter by like
  snowflakes in a breeze
  the smell of the air
  is fall. But the feel
  is winter.

• Looking.
  Watching.
  Seeing.
  
  Stars.
  Blur.
  Thinking.

• Cowboy killer kills her
  as she whispers vapors
  of lives.
  My teeth clamp a
  cancerstick
  as my mind sorrow
  spits tears from my
  mouth

• I shouldn't have gone.
  Why did I go?
  It was awesome.

Monday, October 21st

• The curve of his lips,
  Missed but not forgotten.
  My fingers graze over the smooth contours
  As my arms wrap around him.
  
  Time to let go.
  
  
  
• A clouded mist
  forms across
  the skyline
  creating a facade
  of a never-ending cliff
  
  Thump, thump, thump.
  
  Pearls of rain hit
  the windshield
  as I drive into nothingness.
  
  
   
• Sitting
  Waiting     Nervously
  The News is in:
  We're going to Fruita.

Wednesday, October 16th

• The sky blue
  lights flicker
  the monitor beeps
  in a steady rhythm.
  Life so delicate
  is held in the
  tips of my fingers.

• The cold air
  sting on my
  face as I exhale,
  seeing the steam
  of my hot breath
  hit the cold air.

• Leaves
  upon
  leaves
  upon
  leaves.

• A sparkle of light,
  as the sun descends,
  the night awakens.
  I'm drawn to it
  and renewed by
  my small association
  to what I find
  to be extraordinary.

Monday, September 30th

• Pain flooded me
  like a tsunami,
  an injury of my own idiocy.
  
  You are the memories
  I'm letting go
  unloading the box
  from the top shelf.
  You no longer
  have a piece of me.

• Her smile was a working
  crescent moon, and the
  freckles that framed
  her upturned eyes
  were the stars of the
  vast galaxy of her face.
  
  With the glow of the
  television cast upon
  the contours of her face,
  she looked at me and laughed,
  a sound as bright as hope
  in the dark
  and twice as brilliant

• Burning embers
  of the sun's
  rays came down
  
  I ran and hid like
  a cockroach,
  fleeing the light.

Wed., Sept. 25th

• As if the room
  could swallow me
  whole and erase
  the pain of the
  inevitable, betrayed
  by the promise
  of tomorrow.

• Sparks ignite the
  night like the
  red burning
  embers of
  charcoal.
  
  The warm
  touch of your
  supple lips
  against mine.

• Darkness shadows
  the room like a
  vulture lurking
  over its desert
  prey.
  
  but a small shimmering
  light still flickers,
  keeping the shadows at
  bay.

Monday, Sept. 16

• the moonlight
  sneaking in through
  the cracks, the
  cold gloomy air
  the warm
  touch of being
  wanted.

• darkened theater,
  the floor slightly
  sticking to my
  shoes.
  Two hours of
  flashing images.
  A story of what
  we once were.

• The twirling of
  satin magenta
  fabric.
  Laughter &
  giggling fill
  the air.
  We all want
  to find the
  perfect one
       don't we?

Monday, September 9th

• There could never
  be enough water
  as I lick my desert lips and I
  feel my skin turn red.

• Fluffy blue strands,
  shining in the sun
  were melting sweet.
  I wrapped my hand
  around the bleached cone.
  This wondrous taste as so magical.
  Fluffy sugar.

• Tongues licked the sky
  as my teeth sank into
  the cracker, my taste
  buds rejoicing at the
  gooey texture and
  melted chocolate.

• Sprinkled and scattered
  like the dust on an old
  piano. Shining brighter
  than the fluorescent
  lights in every class.
  The stars are like home
  before.

TR Showing/Telling

#1
My heart catches every instant
drumbeat. The face is cooled by the onset
of the vanguard. A subtle feeling of 
melancholy starts to enter the soul.





An approaching thunderstorm.
#2
A pure drop of water
falling form the sky, only
to collide with the still
calm pond. The flat
water line snaps
into furry, the spike of a 
heartbeat monitor...




There is a lighting strike across a mid-day afternoon sky.
#3
An all consuming black hole, constrained to
this small space. A pit.




Flat surface of the door; it has no features or characteristics.

MWF Showing vs. Telling

#1.
laughter & sweet kisses
on long summer nights
thick accent torturing words
ring softly and force my smile

all that is a memory
thousands of miles and seas separating
but twisted metal remains 
as a reminder around my neck.



my necklace

#2
sitting on skin
like a clear, thin cloak of glue
dried on fingers of restless school children.




the heat in the trophy hallway
#3
bearing the weight of thousands
finally giving into the pressure
bearing our sorrows and joys
and accepting who we've become




the cracks and divits in the trophy hallway of AHS.

Monday, August 26th

• Bottle shattered, someone swung,
  missed. Village Inns' lights
  twitched. "I'll have a flaming
  Doctor Pepper," laughter.

• We are so very disillusioned--
  a man's heart is skewered,
  the gore craving masses go
  wild.
  
  His face has been
  stripped to a raw mess of
  flesh, blood and skull and
  we are eating it up, moony-
  eyed, washing it down with
  
  overpriced beverages and
  salted popcorn.

• The gummy strands
  of cheese as I
  pull the chips
  apart.

Monday, May 13th

• Somewhere beyond
  the muffled murmurs,
  we sat and ate
  like everything was
  okay.

• Primped and
  preened with
  definite
  discovery.

• Days away to walk
  the line.
  A paper, a letter, a
  goal in mind.
  Yet another piece
  of tree carcass sheet.
  I'm drowning
  generating paper
  piece by
  piece.

P.6 Monday, May 13th

• The wind silently shakes
  the leaves.
  It's hot in the open, but
  the weather cannot be
  controlled.
  The sun is setting, but it's
  hard to be tired without
  moving and the wind is
  cooling.

• The bark of the oak
  tree separates and
  widens.
  The cow unsuspecting
  of its crucifate.
  Bright yellow luminescent
  eyes appear through the
  leaves.
  Silence continues in the
  dark field.

• Red rose petals
  darkened with black
  rain drops sticking
  onto the back
  the sun makes it
  vibrant for all
  people to see
  red rose petals
  darkened with
  black.

P.3 Monday, May 13th

• Sunlight spilled through
  the cracks in my windows....
  Blue sky followed me
  wherever I went.
  The dew-touched grass
  sifted through my toes,
  as melodies of nature
  filled my ears.

• Starting the mower
  Cutting the grass
  Edging the leftovers
  Sweeping the pavement
  Collecting the money.

• The bird plummeting
  chirp turn to panic
  the wings flop
  no luck
  thump.

• The night was quiet
  and dark, but we
  were loud and bright.

Monday, May 6th

• Girls ran about in their dresses
  Guys in their crinkled
  white shirts and slacks,
  and I wonder
  is this all there is?
  
  The music continued
  on, but I still
  stuck.

• Chocolate cascading
  down a liquid
  wall of milk
  chocolatey goodness,
  
  The peaceful rhythm
  disrupted by a square
  of pound cake twirling
  in the boudnaries.

• Standing in the ruins of another
  man's MySpace page--
  an article about birds
  in the amazon,
  sleeping like a baby because
  the internet is warm
  and people aren't real.

Monday, May 6th Period 6

• The mysterious
  man walked
  through his
  own world
  looking for his love.

• A blue goose, on the surface
  of marsh, juggling 3 very
  large and thick worms.
  The goose has a goose
  body and head but human
  hands and legs, behind him
  is a portal to another
  universe, it appears as an
  upside down triangle blacker than
  black, no light enters
  or escapes.

• A meadow,
  green and alive with trees.
  Silent as a buzzing bee.
  Tire swing hanging off a
       branch,
  Black as night, on the ranch.

Monday, May 6th Period 3

• The black starry night
  came alive as the
  fire was born
  and danced around in
  an ominous glow.

• Papers beigng ripped apart
  frustration growing.
  
  Holding in pain and tears
  allowing only bravery
  to shudder with a dying mind.
  
  The works of art
  being thrown away.

• Big, ripe, red strawberry

Tuesday, April 30th

• Worn out, tarnished,
  old dreams feebly struggling
  to catch a spark and
  erupt into flames.

• Waves crash among
  the shoreline of
  her eyes.
  Capturing the glistening
  descending
  sun.

• Because cats.

Monday, April 29th

• My mom sings awkward
  a capella
  while I silently bash
  my brians in with a plastic
  fork
  because there is too much
  salt in my macaroni.
  
  As I watched this man
  eating Cup of Noodles
  flavored like chicken,
  his beard consumed his far
  and his hair tied him to
  the coffee shop chair.

• Face is glazed over
  and it hurts.
  Like the shine that covers
  a red apple,
  I am
  anesthetized
  and synthetic.
  This hurts.

• Spring walks
  into Colorado's
  raging wet,
  cold, party
  fashionably late
  brightening up the
  room, creating
  smiles.

• Sometimes the grass
  proves too cold for a
  bare foot in the
  springtime.

Tuesday, April 16th

• Swerving through
  the glistening endlessness,
  gliding past
  the neverending corruption,
  
  innocence.

• Joy floods
  the heart,
  and spills
  from the
  eyes.

• Dustbowls swirl
  to the beat
  of electric shock
  & numbed patrons.

• The longing
  of non existent goodbyes
  clicking down
  catching in your throat
  aching for words.

Monday, April 15th

• tears threaten to spill
  over my lashes
  the dam
  is about to break
  unleashing a black
  streaked waterfall.

• seeing the bright, shiny
  aura given off by
  a majestic pegasus
  only to find out it's
  a horse with a
  bird on its back.

• The hispanics up
  against the wall,
  pain behind unwavering
  eyes.

• The skin peels
  back off the bone,
  as his face cheese
  grates on the road.

Thursday, April 12th

• glass shatters
  to silk.

• colored tubes
  writhing
  giggles
  a frenzy
  nightcrawlers.

• muffled.
  chuckled.
  light hearts fall.
  smelling poetry
  and the hot boy's
  call.

• The aching melts
  away as light
  rains down
  creating a
  shadow on
  the past.

• Spiraled gusts
  through northern gullies
  wander,
  as I wonder,
  what made me?
  Why am I here?

Monday, April 8th

• A trail of mucus
  flies through the air
  as an overzealous
  mastiff
  pummels me to
  the ground.

• Sunshine stands
  on the back of
  a cloud, waiting
  for the rain to
  settle down.

• Suffocated by love.
  And small black cats
  sleeping on my chest
  roll onto my neck as I sleep,
  and I stop breathing.

• Burly Mountain Men
  Sitting In Individual Bathtubs
  placed in a circle
  discussing politics.

Tuesday, March 19th

• Journey of a lifetime
  worlds colliding
  a time made of together
  viewed from pixels
  but emotions travel
  through signals and systems
  waves of plankton
  jumping to the sounds
  of waves
  euphoric bliss
  nerves send signals to shock.

• blue and
  white drift
  together till
  you're too dizzy
  in your own
  shoes.

• Blood runs through
  my veins, like
  the water out
  of a fire hose.
  Pressure that
  could burst
  a boulder.

Wednesday, March 20th

• A vessel
  with a heart beat
  drifting into nothing
  no medium
  for waves of sound
  to travel,
  lost.
• Gum,
  blackened on
  concrete by
  trampling feet.
• lost in the sauce
  faking my way through
  monday and friday
  sleeping
  for days.
• The cold, steely bone
  of my bicycle
  sings when it makes
  contact with my
  awhile.

Tuesday, March 12th

• Long term goals
  can't be stopped
  by everyday problems.
  
  Music is the loud, but
  silent escape to
  Nothing, but ideas.

• Twinkling starlight and I
  control the gleam of the moon.

• Pretty Light's
  bounce of the smoke like bumper car's,
  music and patterns allow the rainbow razor to shave
  the skin off the third eye. Brain with
  Vally of color dripping paint that seeps out of my eyes like tears.

• Crimson regret leaves
  ribbons of imprisoned tears
  tarnishing once sparkling
  sapphire eyes.

Monday, March 11th

• A man, to the right
  of me at the stoplight
  staring at something.
  Holding his head,
  asleep but still crying.

• The greed fell like
  a poisoned Juliet.
  
  The lone wizard
  with nothing but
  everything looked
  up to send
  him down.

• Butter surfs the pan
  and burns
  a toasty ring

Tuesday, March 4th

• Arm floaties
  on Venice
  souls.

• An empty mind
  a perfect neglected nook,
  overlooked and forgotten
  collecting dust and cobwebs.

Monday, March 4th

• Drugged
  by her kaleidoscope anesthetic,
  I'm stained
  with crimson hues.

• Curling iron
  with any hands
  so I might
  curl iron with
  mighty hands
  Not a curling iron
  I ain't no girl
  I'm a man.

• The rainforest
  began in my mouth
  as I stared
  down overlooking
  the mound of
  3 circular patties.

• That moment
  when you kiss someone so passionately
  that you get light-headed.
  And then you literally forget
  How to walk
  So you end up stumbling around
  like an idiot.
  Until you finally fall down on the floor and pass out
  Because it's midnight
  And you still can't breathe.

Tuesday, February 26th

• the crushing weight of casual
  goodbyes, consuming
  every aspect of my being.

• living in
  between the
  sheets,
  day, to day.

• The hot steam
  collides with
  the huge
  snowflakes.
  Just talking
  is enough.

Monday, Feb. 25th

• Sun swept across the
  cushioned car seats,
  wind beneath feet,
  shimmering wet
  pavement of promise--
  It's all out of control.

• Heavy snow
  falls secretly
  and in silence,
  erasing color
  from the yard

• High-centered, snow locked,
  withered, frayed snapped
  tow strap,
  soggy cold toes
  puddly floor boards
  spinning, rubber burning
  tires.

Wednesday, Feb. 20th

• The giddy stare of animalistic 8th graders
  Sinks into my crumbling shoulders,
  Denim jackets, Kohls' t-shirts, and
  Sketchers' Shape-Up are
  In a Rage.

• Sitting in an uncomfortable lawn chair,
  I absentmindedly assist the
  already peeling black paint to
  liberation.

• The halls are empty,
  The silence is overwhelming,
  As I scream back-
  Alone.
  I am enveloped in the empty sound
  Infinite.

• Smashing ripe fruits to a pulp,
  A tornado of flavor,
  and color.

Tues, Feb. 19th

• Wasting body,
  revived in Heaven.
  
  The breathing out of old
       photo albums.

• Cold seat
  In hot heat
  eyes glass
  can't feel my feet

• The screaming
  echos
  till it rings
  in silence

• Warmth raging
  through chilled
  oak veins

Wednesday, January 13th

• Sitting in class
  staring through the
  smart board into
  a world that
  never was.

• She braces, as the roaring
  airplane and the runway
  are reacquainted once more.

• Chimichanga in
  
  Chimichanga out
  
  You don't want to know what's inbetween.

• The somber
  sounds of a sleepless
  sorrow.

• Eyes stitched shut,
  Body lay limp,
  The feeling of self
  Loathing is abundant,
  Taco Bell Hangover.

Tuesday, Jan. 12th

• Sun bursts
  through cracked
  white doors

• I'm like a
  baby's bottom
  
  Smooth
  And sometimes
  EXPLOSIVE

• As she ate
  chicken noodle
  soup and
  sobbed,
  she revealed a
  heart,
  a life,
  that has been
       robbed.

• Fortified skyline,
  clouds dipped in gold
  returning,
  becoming home.

Tuesday, February 5th

• The warm sun shines
  on my cool white
  skin.

• Lipstick stained coffee
  cup, out of place in
  the native lands of New Mexico.

• I couldn't see.
  Ringing in my ears.
  
  Is the movie over?

Mon., Feb. 4th

• The mountain grew
  in a parallel to my pain.
  "Back again I see,"
  as she hands me my
  TacoBell

• A dog
  A frog
  A log
  the sweet swamp
  music sound
  A velociraptor.

• Fiery tears of rage
  rolled from her
  eyes. Disappointment
  forced its way
  up her throat only
  to be shoved back
  down by the hatred
  she felt for him.

• I'm quiet and wild
  like dry ice.
  

Tuesday, January 29th

• Soaking wet
  with everyone's
  sweats.

• Sunlight kisses
  The night sky
  Waking
  in its
  Path.

• Tear stained pillow-case.

Monday, January 28th

• Wind blowing
  rain falling
  was that me
  crying?

• 3 slightly bruised
  peaches sitting
  around a pear
  who is revealing
  what the opposite
  of cinnamon is
  to them.

• Surrounded in greasy pies,
  my lion of a stomach
  roared for a tasteful slaughter.

• The Mexican food
  made the treacherous
  climb up my throat.
  I managed to send
  it back down with
  an avalanche of
  saliva.

Wednesday, January 23rd

• the words put my heart
  to a halt & it shatters
  at the thought my
  little sister is friends
  with Lucifer.

• suspended in space,
  underwater stillness.

• The cold mother's
  legs trembled under
  the weight
  of all eyes on her.
  Hair blew against
  cheeks, eyes watered,
  and the crowd roared.

• The explosion of
  shiny specks the
  size of dust mites
  that covered her
  sleep chamber like
  the stage at a Ke$ha
  concert.

Tuesday, January 22nd

• Hope whispers
  through the
  rusted barbed wire.

• Wind whispers
  into the ears
       of shadows.

• Chunk paint
  globs

Thursday, January 18th

• The frost tipped
  glaciers,
  of her light
  strangled oak eyes.

• Frosty eyelashes
  blinking glittery
     goodbyes.

• Chattering
       paper
     silk.

• Cha cha long strong
  strides cutting through
  the beautiful white ice.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

• A man's flab
  seeking freedom
  from the tight
  knit shirt 

• Sleeping warm yellow puppy
  smells like old socks.

 

• The hum of
  the machine.