The advocate

When all in life is broken,

when there is a hole in your soul-

wounded by the wretched attacks

of a criminal that broke through

to your weakest point.

A child is dead-

the parents: weeping

over the key element of their lives

now lost.

When the cameras roll in.

The microphones shoved in their face

a blur of faces

shifting in and out of focus

they scream and call to them,

“Speak! Speak! Tell us everything!”

When all they want to shrivel like a raisin,

the hungry reporters lapping at the juices of their pain

sopping up the mess around them in pictures and words

that will never even begin to describe their disdain.

Anguish.

A woman walks in

places her arm around the mother

and shields her from the light

with a mighty roar,

she silences the predators

pushes them back

and protects the victim.

She explains with compassion:

“You do not have to speak.

You do not have to show.

You can hide,

you can mourn.

Write the way you feel-

you can send it out

and maybe then they’ll leave you be.

Deny what you wish.

Say only what you wish.

They can not get to you

unless you let them.”

And so they have someone

someone who can protect them.

They have a friend.

step-silence

Why do these late nights

have me dreaming of something that I don’t want?

Of something that I need-

To let go?

Why does it haunt me so?

Why can’t I just forgo

My plans for the life I knew wouldn’t exist?

Why do I fall apart

And let it break my heart

When I don’t even want what never was?

Why do you haunt me so…

I could walk away- lord knows I’ve tried.

I can’t count the times you’ve made me cry.

But this deafening silence is killing me.

Why couldn’t you just say

You were afraid to try?

What’s wrong with being man enough

to say goodbye?

Mad scientist Henry Higgins

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve posted on here, huh? Been busy with school work. But alas, I come to you with work from this very school. But it should be fun. Right?

We recently finished reading “Pygmalion” and oh my grammar I loved it.

The prompt was an inquiry; “is Henry Higgins a fairy godmother, or a mad scientist?”

Henry Higgins is a mad scientist in my view. Much to the standards of the film “Young Frankenstein.”

My bad.. it’s pronounced “Fronkonsteen.” Both Henry and Fredrick are quite pompous characters, not afraid to announce their talents to all just for the sake of boasting.

They offer their help even if others don’t have an issue with their life already. They act like excited little girls. After dressing their new barbie doll in the latest fashion, it’s time for “puttin on the rits” and flaunting your new favorite toy.

Although they have tough outer shells, they are capable of love, admiration, and general caring. Both look at themselves as a sort of father to the friend they had made.

So in conclusion, Henry Higgins is a mad scientist. A crazy, flamboyant, lovable, sadistic mad scientist. Thank you.

The Warm

The summer sun is warm on my brow,

An ode to the comfort it brings me

But its sweetness leaves me wondering how

its tender, luminescent touch could be.

The gentle kiss of a single ray

can, no matter what, make me feel at home

As it travels on slowly, day by day.

Though friends are lost, I am never alone.

He shall return with his golden face

After the passing of each horrid storm

And enrapture me in his grand embrace

and then make sure I have come to no harm

Through the changes, he is the one who stays

when all of the others have parted ways.

My beautiful girl

A young child runs,

her tiny toes clenching the grass beneath her feet.

She closes her eyes,

feels the wind rush against her smooth skin.

The air whips by her ears

her golden locks flying like the mane of a majestic lion

she twists and turns,

flopping on to the ground like a fish without water

but is embraced like a mother cardinal’s wing

by the scent of burning coals

She lifts her head sees her father by the grill

sighs and inhales the aroma once more

With the ground as her pillow,

and the thick summer air as a blanket,

she sleeps in blissful smile

Things I’ve learned from Spongebob

As I was watching this show, along with my younger siblings, I sat there and pondered it’s value… Then, I pieced this together.

A song in your heart

No matter what, when life gives you rain, you’ve got to learn how to sing in it. Forget you have any worries, forget that you have any woe. Put a …

The realms of fantasy

Across lands and time, we can venture into the marvelous realms that are created by the purity of imagination. Into worlds beyond today, or even past. Our lives modeled around the worlds we wish we could be in. We believe that we are powerless to change what we are in, and we venture into these childhood friends.

These companions that never change, although we evolve drastically, beginning to morph into reality, working, bills, responsibility, (We, as humans, threw this onto ourselves long ago.) we secretly yearn for the magic that surrounds that our favorite fairy tales. We long to be the elegant princess that ventures through the enchanted wood, meeting princes, talking trees and creatures, singing birds and such. We obsess over the need to escape to become the fearless pirate with the swash-buckling crew that is forever faithful to our command, salty sea-spray upon our rugged chins. In a way, we desire to become the children of never-land remaining lifelike and energetic. Yet here we are, being sucked into the life we are forced to live in.
I believe that we were closer to this “magic” when we lived in simplicity. When we had the lives of kings and queens. When every forest was either considered dark and scary or enchanted and bountiful. When there were knights and peasants. When other creatures were considered equals and human beings hadn’t yet began to believe that we were meant to be the dominate species.

Aren’t you ready to dive head-first into imagination?

Imagine this:

Your hand stretches out onto an old shelf. The leather binding roughly caresses your skin. As you pull the covers apart, the sweet aroma of the yellowed pages tumbles through the air, creating a pall of mystery. Within the pages you slowly seep away from the chair you sit in, into the world of which you have chosen. CHOICE. 

The troubles and woes that surround you are gone, even if only momentarily… but they are gone.  An escape.

It seems humans are always looking for an escape. Why ignore the obvious one?

It’s your choice though.. stay within this world- the epitomy of greed and deciet,  or submerge yourself in a new a delightful realm.

Ramblings of a mind at 3am

Within his mind, one may find,
that he knows of my love for him.
He understands that before dormancy,
O!- the tears I shed.
for I wish nothing more,
then to run my fingers through the hairs on his head.
And he knows that I can  only- at  ease – rest,
with the hallucination of my face buried in his chest.
and my mind plays terrible little tricks…
taunting me with his voice,
beckoning me, pleading I come to him.
and my mind decides that when I am lonely,
just to tear my heart a little more,
to give me the false desires and hopes,
of seeing him waltz through my open door.
and the trick the most vile,
is plaguing me with memory,
of his sweet, endearing smile.
and how can one escape such madness?
such interpretations are unclear..
when you feel so far away,
from the one who holds you dear.
The eyes that stay within your thoughts,
keeping you from dreaming
for more than is seeming
is here- the land teeming
with shadows of day dreams,
the puppets of society – marionetted
and the beauty of love’s written poetry,
giving insight to thoughts silhouetted.
Thoughts of fingers intertwined,
of moonlit whispers, “You are mine,
No beauty surpasses thyne,
for it is now clear to thee,
how obviously you belong with me.”
Musings of arms holding tight,
of midnight murmurs sounding of “good night”
and “perhaps, one eve, our dreams shall resonate true,
once I may hold you close,
for my heart already belongs to you”
and that’s my favorite thing he knows.

Life

Life.

It gives you a long road.

Turn left.

Turn right.

Bright sunny day.

Dark, grueling night.

When your car runs out of fuel,

and all that’s left to eat is gruel,

When the rain begins to downpour,

and your heart has been thrown on the cold, dirt floor,

look for the rainbow that hides in the storm.

Everything will be better than it was before.

When life gives you lemons,

it’s hard to make lemonade.

just add your sweet, sugary happiness

and all will be okay.’

You may have friends

that help you through,

but remember that you are

the one and only you.