Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Power of Duende

Written 1/10/12

At a concert you listen to a singer.
She sways as the words flow from her body,
You sit in your chair wondering where her
Passion comes from, what is this thing
That makes you feel the words she is singing.

At a museum you walk through the halls and
Stop at a painting,
This one really caught your eye, there is great
Detail and feeling in this paining, this gives you an
Idea of what the painter was trying to paint, what he felt.

At a reading, a poet reads his poem aloud,
The metaphors roll through your head and paint
A picture, they give you a feeling, you wonder how this
Poet could write something that could make you
Feel so deeply, by his words.

Could it be a muse? An Angel?
It must be Duende,
For there is no greater power.

Christmas Untitled

Written 1/9/2012

The fake needles scratch

the skin as you put the tree up.

The glitter ornaments shimmer

as you turn on the colored lights

for the first time this december.

Ornaments of different shapes and

sizes drape from the branches.

Presents start to stack under the

tree, different types of wrapping,

tags with many different names.

There's excitement and laughter as

you watch family open their gifts.

Ham with mashed potatoes, corn

and pumpkin pie fill the dinner

table, family talks while you eat,

When over and more time has

passed it's time to put t he past behind.

You pack up the ornaments, the

tinsel, the lights, and as the needles

scratch the skin one more time there

is a feeling of sadness.

For christmas time is gone,

But it will will come again next year.

All I Want To Do


All I Want To Do
Is be done with papers
and tests and take a
break from school,

Is be closer to being done
paying student loans back
Instead of not started,

Is be the kind of person
who once starts something
finishes it shortly after.

All I want to do is
love, and be loved,
and keep loving and
being loved =)



Rain drops fall on my
head and my hair gets
damp with the smell
of rain around me.

I cover my head with
a newspaper but eventually
even that starts to soften
and more rain falls upon me.

It's not that I don't like
the rain, it's that it
surprises me with it's
awful timing of coming.

If the rain could maybe
give me a warning every
once and a while, maybe
I could have my umbrella.



Alone in my room I
feel joy.

Alone except for the
feeling of lonliness.

I'm sure you know
what it's like.

Being alone. You've
been alone.

When I've left you and
forgotten your pages.

I apologize for leaving you,
I know what it's like,

To be alone, as you have.



White and small,
Cold and Wet,
falling and stopping.

I like to watch you from inside,
But leave me be,
I'm driving.

I'm not always safe when you're around.
I'm scared of what will happen.



Hello happiness, I've left you so far behind.

My mind is filled with need and wants and

I can't focus anymore.

Why does this world have to be money oriented.

Nothing can be done without it,

People are living on the streets because

They don't have it.

Why can't we pay with kindness and emotions?

I Can Feel You


Tonight I can feel your presence,

Almost like you never left and your

Still standing close, watching my every move.

I hear your whisper and I'm scared

Because I know it's not real and

I'll loose you once again.

But tonight, I'll keep you here,

I can feel your presence.



My mind fills with blankness.

I'm blind to see all i knew before.

The words and the definitions I memorized.

This test time will be worthless without that.

Information somewhere in my mind,

The mind which is blank and full of nothing.



Soft whispers fill a classroom,

something is coming,

the smell of corndogs cooking in the cafeteria,

the sound of the band playing down the hall.

A bang outside the room,

Mr. Feller looks out the glass of the door,

the hall is empty,

‘What’s that’ asked by a high pitched voice.

Something sweet fills the room,

it becomes cloudy and we cannot

- see what’ going on anymore

it’s like blindness all around.

We’re all down on the floor crawling,

‘what do we do’ someone asked,

no answer from Mr.Feller-

fear fills the room from the students.

A few minutes pass.

Mr.Feller clears his throat,

the room clears, all faces are seen again,

No voices are heard,

except Mr. Fellers soft whisper ‘what was that?’



Violins start us out, slow and sweet.

The vibrato gives chills to its listener.

The horns join in with a sweet melody,

They play together in harmony.

We catch an oboe in a solo,

The flutes and clarinets join in.

Suddenly we’re unaware of what’s going on

Around us, we’re sucked in.

A voice starts singing and it’s beautiful,

Charming and it takes us on a journey

Through a song we’ll want to stay with,

And never want that moment to end.



Tattoos are cool one day and

then they’re out the next. Seems

like everyone has one these days.

Piercings are in one day and

then they’re not the next, Seems like

everyone is getting their nose pierced these days.

Bellbottoms were cool in the 70’s

and then they went out of style.

Now it seems everyone’s got a pair.

Fads are in, then out, then back

again. What new fads will wee see next?



Beads, there are so many.

They make earrings and

Bracelets and necklaces

And sometimes even rings.

People use thread and

Wire and different metals

To make jewelry that

beads are used for.

But what else can beads do?

Spill all over, get lost in the carpet,

become a pain in the butt when

you can’t find them. But beads

will be beads, and they’re

sometimes nice to look at.

Help Me Teach


Help me teach her how to read

to teach her how to walk.

Help me teach him how to swim,

to teach him how to talk.

Help me teach them how to eat,

to use forks and spoons and such.

Help me teach them what they’ll

need to know, so when they’re

grown up and gone, they’ll be

taught all they’ll need, to live.

Warm Days


The leaves are gone,

The air begins to chill,

Suddenly I miss the warm days of summer.

I know snow will be falling soon

And I’ll be looking back on those

Days bathing in the sun on the beach.

Snow is pretty and it

Glimmers in the sun as it falls

But then I have to wear

A winter coat to keep me warm.

I don’t mind my winter coat.

But after Christmas has passed

I’ll be looking at the falling snow

out my window,

Wishing for those warm days once more.

Round and Round We Go


You’re stupid, you’re smart.

You silly ho, how could you do this?

I love you, I hate you.

Don’t leave me! Please stay!

Hands intertwined while lying together.

Yelling and Screaming.

Get out!

Kisses and fondling.

Things thrown in anger.

Watered flowers, chocolate candies.

Misunderstandings and wrong things said aloud.

Pictures and Cards hung on the walls.

Laughter and tears.

The beginning, the end.

And then it starts, again.



Cold and white.

I can’t feel my fingers,

I can see my breath in the air.

I can’t feel my hands,

my nose is stuffed and I keep sniffling.

I can’t feel my arms,

My nose is red and wet from my breath.

I can’t feel my toes,

I’m moving my legs around frantically.

I can’t feel my legs,

I breathe quietly in the white darkness.

I’m numb. I’m numb.

All is black.



Blood Red covered her finger nails.

They were as long as a nail you’d

use with a hammer, dangerous.

The way she walked around you thought

She’d killed someone.

Maybe she had.

She didn’t say much, she was one of those.

Just sat on the couch in isolation.

In her own little ward,

not paying attention to the world around her.

Imagine If


Imagine if you were able to fly.
As free as a bird, your wings taking
flight to anywhere you want to go.
You could feel the wind on your face,
clouds just above you, sun shinning.

Imagine if you had fins, like a fish
or a mermaid and you lived underwater.
You could eat seaweed or fish
and your hands wouldn’t prune after
being in for too long.

Imagine you were a flower
Just shedding your beaty to the world
hoping for rain when your thirsty and
soaking up the sun. What if you
could pick which one you were.

Imagine if you weren’t you,
and you could be who you wanted,
where you wanted, with not a care
in the world but that moment.
It’s fun to imagine, huh?



Redness fill my cheeks as I get embarrassed.

Odd elevator music plays as I ride to the 9th floor.

Yellow teeth pass me on the street.

Grapes fill the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

Beethoven plays on a record in the other room.

Interesting quotes fill the newspaper.

Vintage skirts fill shop windows, once again.

Don’t Smile


Smiles, they’re everywhere.

Especially in Minnesota when

your walking down the street

and you see someone, they smile.

What’s up with that?

Then there’s the clerk at the grocery

store, and the lady at Walgreens

who seems to happy to be there.

And the guy at Perkins who greets you.

For once I’d like to see someone not

smiling while greeting at Walmart,

or the drive thru guy at McDonald’s

not to say ‘Have a nice day’.

Something different, something new.

But for now I smile back at all of them,

In my own world, sometimes because

I want to, but sometimes because I have to.

Heaven In A Hot Shower


Hot heaven cascades down your back,

the water causing dew on the mirror.

You don’t want to get out

because you know

it’s cold outside the shower.

It’s 10 pm and it’s been a long day.

It’s time to relax.

The soap on your loofah suds up,

You smell the aroma of your bodywash.

Shampoo soaks your hair clean,

getting out the dirt of the day.

After the shower a new adventure.

A new beginning.

Jean Claud


We called him Jean Claud.

He sat on the table near our window.

His green leaves with yellow spots

stared at us while we ate

and watched television.

We watered him, we loved him.

He still sits on our table

by the window. I’m used

to him there now. What would

I do if he just withered away.

Mmmmmm probably just buy a new one!



Howdy Cowboy Tom yells upstairs.

Want to ride with me Tom moves through the house.

A fake horse and galloping.

Feet make noises on the wood floor.


I get out of bed.

It’s a new day.

The Movies


Darkness, comfortable seats,

Popcorn and candy, a coke with ice,

big widescreen in front of us,

millions of pictures before our eyes,

screaming, laughing,crying-

People around us switch their crossed legs.

The salty taste of our buttered

Popcorn fills my mouth, I’m

feeling satisfied on our

decision to have this night out.

No where else I’d rather be

than here in the darkness.

Ask Me


Ask me why I cried when you first

Said you loved me,

Ask me why after six years we’re

still not married,

Ask me why I hate when your

mom texts me,

Or why after we watch a movie

I crave popcorn.

Ask me why I’ve stayed after all

this time,

Why I’m still here and not gone.

Ask me why I want you to ask me,

Ask me why.

Cleaning Time


The smell of pinesol fills the air

as the mop water splashes onto the floor. I relax as

The green scrubby sponge clears the crumbs

from the counters, removing the

Pink stain that was there for six

days straight, some jelly or juice

that one of my stupid roommates spilled.

I watch dust go into the air as the

sun shines in, the vacuum loud

and barely picking anything up.

I pick hairballs off the carpet

that have been left by any of the

four girls that live in the apartment.

I throw them into the already full

garbage. Great, another thing to do.

But once done all will be well,

and I can once more relax and

enjoy the cleanliness of my apartment.



I can still remember that day-

When I kissed her cold cheek

I was more scared than words can say,

Shaking, I felt myself getting weak.

This was my last chance to say goodbye

They pushed me near her bed

As I kissed her I tried not to cry,

I couldn't believe she was dead.

To this day the smell of old furniture

And spice reminds me of her,

Watching Wheel of fortune together, her nature-

I won't forget the fun we had together.

I loved her and I still do.

Grandma, I'll never forget you.

Time For Me


When will it be my time,

to tell them my story?

When will they see my rhyme,

makes sense to my gore.

How can they judge me now, here on the street,

They make assumptions about my life.

I wish they could just read my mind,

Explanations are easier that way, sometimes

words just don’t come out right.

I could write them my response

can they read my writing?

Call me crazy, but I know

they just won’t get it now.

Who killed this body,

The gun shot through the leg,

Broken shoulder and ribs, blood on

The cold face, who killed me?

A Day In The Life


The garbage truck outside woke me at 5am.
I’ve been up since then,

lying here waiting for sleep to take

me back but I stay awake,

So cruel.

Work at 7am so I get dressed.

I put my wheat toast in the

Toaster. I push the toast down,

nothing happens. It’s

Fucking broken.

I go to work hungry I try

to stay awake while my boss

lectures me about posted notes.

Who cares, I say to myself,

He’s so boring.

I come home from work at

4pm. Nate greets me with a lick

on the hand. I missed you too boy.

The day is almost done and I’m

I get into bed and move the covers

up over my hands. So warm and

quiet. My eyes start to close

and I can feel myself being pulled into

Sleep, finally.

Robber (Yet Again)


Freedom wasn’t busy that night.

She walked right in and right out.

She was two thousand dollars richer.

Gun point.

Hand it over.

Fresh wod of cash, two.

I love the smell of money.

She leaves.

Clerk calls 911, but what can they do

Freedom doesn’t have a camera.

She gets away.

She’s a smart woman, but

She doesn’t know that it’s going to

Catch up to her.

He's Alone


He turned and looked behind him.

He didn’t know why but he felt that

he wasn’t alone.

He walks along the curb of

5th street and turns to open his car door.

He was alone, but he didn’t feel alone.

He starts his car and puts his

foot on the gas. What would

cause the car not to want

to move? He gets out.

In front of his tires there were

bricks. Bricks.

He removes the bricks and gets back

in the car. He is alone, but

he doesn’t feel alone.

He drives home and turns the

car off. He waits. He didn’t feel


He moves quickly to his front

door. what now?

His mind is freaking out as he puts

the key in to unlock the door,

He feels a hand, he turns,

He’s alone.



The black pen scratches words onto the empty paper. The page fills up with things you don’t understand, but you wish you could.

You’re tired and you want to give up, but your stuck. You have to finish it before you can turn it in, before it’s due.

How long will it take until you finish the task? Why must it be so time

consuming? Why must it take up so much of our social time?

The answer is unknown, but so clear. You’ll know someday.

[Last of her]

This poem is an imitation of a poem by Lightsy Darst, the format doesn't come out quite how i wrote it here.
Written 9/2010


Look at her body


Lying in the grass by that old oak tree


She never had a chance

to see the world

lucky to be alive while she was


She knew a man

He knew her in ways no one else did

she wore her heart on her sleeve

when she was around him

but now she’s silent [nothing left].


I wish I could have known; I could have

saved her; If only she could have known.


One Endless Sky

Written 9/2010

The rain falls from the endless sky of blue,

Rain freezes and becomes cold white snow,

Flakes fall from high above and stick like glue,

In daylight you can see its shiny glow.

The stars are twinkling in the dark night sky,

The massive moon dappled on the ground,

Sunrise lights the day and makes you cry,

The sun filled with beauty; one big mound,

Fluffy clouds fill the blue open space,

Wind moves leaves on the ground below,

Looks like rain is going to ruin this perfect place

The quiet nothingness gone; no longer mellow,

The sky is now filled with an endless pink,

Staring at it really makes one think.


Written 9/2010

She let me go right off the edge,

The wind blew sand right through my hair,

As if she pushed me off the ledge,

She left me with an evil stare.

Winter Follows Fall

Written 9/2010

Wet drops fall from the sky

Landing on branches, and hitting

Sideways on the glass window upstairs.

I can hear the drip drip of the water

Falling from the gutters, leaves

Rustling in the yard, in the wind.

What will happen once the leaves

Have all fallen, the ground covered

In maroons and golds of fall.

Fallen branches and white specks

Falling from the cold air, the start

Of a new season, the start of winter coats

And heavy boots, the start of Winter.

The Professor in the Fall

Written 9/7/10

The rake scrapes the cement and scoops

up the red and yellow leaves,

with a clank on the ground.

Wool pants seem like the perfect choice

because it’s windy, but when you go inside

the school building, you feel

the sweat bead on your skin.

The irritating black gnats that land

on your shirt while walking outside,

you hit your shirt, leaving a black smear.

Withered grapes in the dry fields,

that make for no good taste

in an alchoholic wine.

You turn the television on

And slump down onto the couch

To find

--the new nothingness of fall.

I Don't Know

Written August 2010

I don't know how i should ask,

Or what i should act like,

Or where it should be.

I don't know how you'll be feeling,

Or if you'll be ready,

Or if you'll need time.

I don'r know if love is enough,

If this will last,

Or if it's meant to be.

I don't know if i should ask,

Maybe I won't, Maybe I will.

I don't know.

Winter Has Begun

Written 9/2/2010

The first snowfall comes down upon the cold ground:

white flakes hitting the ground and making a thin white layer on the concrete.

Think of the smell of winter, the cinnamon in the hot apple cider,

the mittens on children running around building snowmen.

Imagine the sleigh rides you can take at the winter carnival,

the ice sculptures perfect and frozen as you walk by enjoying the art of them.

Even the rosy pink cheeks of people walking by gives you a smile on your face,

their heads poking out of their puffy coats and thick winter hats.

The cars stuck in the mounds of snow that cover them after a storm,

the tire tracks left in the parking lots after snow has fallen,

the sound that the snow makes as it crinkles under your boot

when your walking, the feeling of the flakes as they fall on your face

as you look at the sky, white clouds, frozen water, falling

right before your eyes.

Living Lilac

Written 8/28/10:

The sun shines

on the light color purple

as the lilacs move with the wind.

What does it mean to be a lilac?

to be recognized by your color,

the vast purple, and the smell,

so familiar and yet so

beautiful and sweet.

To live peacefully,

only to be gawked at, taken away,

to grow and die, to come back

when the weather is nice,

to sleep away the winters.

The smell of sweetness,

flash our pretty purple color

to the Bees,

and then to disappear.