The Graveyard

Beneath the creaking willow tree
My lonesome lover lies
Beneath the flowing mosses
Is where my one heart dies

Alone and yet forsaken
The wind to scratch my cheek
No face for me to slyly scan
Or hand for me to keep

Why my love did you so go
And leave my heart with rage
Why did you abandon me
Alone to face the age

And all I have remaining
Of your intricate brown eyes
Is a softly creaking willow tree
Neath which a white cross lies

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Hello my darling little love, and how are you? , I ask.
I find that it's just slightly hard for me to stay on task.

Your face invades my every dream, both waking and asleep,
and though I know you are the same, this silence you still keep.

Why, my love, do you not search these eyes, so unlike yours?
You cause me to spend every moment fighting silent wars

Do I love you more than you so very much love me?
And, if so, how is that wrong? what horror would that be?

I do not doubt the way you feel, the words you softly speak.
I fear the way your actions fall, opposed to how I think.

Splendidly

Splendidly, splendidly calls the day,
The sun exclaims “I’m here to stay”
But fear I won’t of harmful rays
For you are ever with me

The heat wears on, but still I shiver 
Your softest smirk and laughter linger 
And I can’t help but smile as well 
For you are ever with me.

A Celtic Song

softly upon the dewy grass
our feet play games with ladybugs
they twist and twirl and lighty fall
and flatten down a grassen rug

the jig I dance is not exclusive
shared by the sun, and by the wind,
by the fawns, the butterflies
and by you, my dear old friend

we laugh and dance,
they dance along,
while the blue sky sings
a celtic song

and the green of my eyes
matches the summer trees
while yours gleam brighter
than the sunlit bees.

and our laughter joins
the birds' sweet songs
and it's exactly like
we're singing along

and the wind catches our hair
and it carries it around
as it does with the sweet scent of summer
and every glorious sound

while we laugh and dance,
they dance along,
and the blue sky sings
a celtic song

and as the sun sets down
we grow quite tired
and we lay upon our flattened grass
and stare up into blackened mire

slowly, stars blink on
small sparks of glory
and we find laughter again
at a remembered story

and one shoots across
and we shout, and wish
did we wish the same?
perhaps at similar-ish

either way, the night grows cold
we sleep upon our grassen sheet
a necessary joy, for on the morrow
we will start again with dancing feet

we will laugh and dance,
and they'll dance along,
while the blue sky sings
a celtic song

Madame Monet (What Say You To Forever?)

A poem inspired by ‘Madame Monet and Her Son’ by Monet

“What say you to forever?
How would we fare together?
To lay side by side and stare at the sky
Blinded by the sun, but seeing so much.

To speak of everything, yet say nothing
To share a smile or a look and understand the deepest thought
To know the comforts and discomforts
To be as one

For now you are a mystery
Veiled, far away, seen through a mist
Our future is a dream, and a hazy one
The wind, exhaled as a sigh of longing, blows it away.

I stare for a while
I see us
I see our family
I see the future

But it is probably not the future
Dreams are dreams
And they are blown away, changed, redirected
Waves, tossed about, never certain of their course

Those fleeting dreams
Those quick snatches
Those ever-exaggerated scenes
Those.

Wind through the grass
While the sun beats down
And my hair blows in my face
As we laugh at ourselves

Then the mood is somber
Then I stare at you, tears threatening
Then you stare back, and we know
Then again… we don’t really know anything.”

Here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again

I want to go swimming.

Oh yes, it's not even march yet. Yes, it is snowing up north still. Yes, yes, and YES it is technically still winter. But that dadgum groundhog (whom I almost called a gopher) saw his shadow. Or didn't... whatever he saw (or didn't see) he said it would be spring. He said it was coming. And we all know, random gophers are always correct.

I mean, spring is here. It's been in the high 70s. We are in spring. But the trees are still brown, the pool still cold, and the sky is still gray.

oh dear. I long so for spring. Summer actually. Semester, get over with.

Ah well.

Are those new leaves or
are they simply old, dead ones
I just cannot tell

~LS

Spring

You stare at the title of this post, and your heart starts beating faster. not that, you think, anything but that. I can't take more of her pining, it's only january. Will I have to put up with this until april? it was hard enough last year, I don't think I can do it again this year!

have no fear. I am not here to moan and groan about the lack of spring. I have a fancy new coat! I want it to be cold!

*sigh of relief*
 
I just wanted to show you this wonderful poem by Emily Dickinson. :)

A Light Exists in Spring, Emily Dickinson

"A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament."


<3

Oh, by the way, I really want to go swimming...


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

;)

LS

Facts

There are some things in life that we know for sure. No doubts. Things like: the sun will always rise in the morning, and the moon will do the same at night. Every morning we will be rudely awakened by beams of gold, and every night we will be serenaded to sleep by beams of silver. This is something we will never question, never worry about... never even consider it becoming non-existent. We can see the sun every day, we can see the moon every night (even 'new moon' we can still see its shadow). Everyone in our history has been able to see the sun and moon. It is an 'unquestionable' fact of life.

It is a part of time; time is the same. We know time will pass. No one exclaims at the fact. No one is surprised by the changing of seasons; no one is surprised to grow older. Saddened by it perhaps, but it is expected. We don't see time, but we know it is there, always moving, always passing us by.

If these things, things that we can and can't see, are accepted so readily, why isn't the existence of God? Why, when he is so plainly visible everywhere and in everything, is he not believed in by every being on this earth? We can accept the passage of time, the rising and setting of the sun and the moon, our own mortality, the life of the things around us... yet we cannot readily accept God. Even the strongest Christian has doubts on occasion. I can bet you have never gone to bed thinking; 'I wonder if the sun will rise tomorrow. I wonder if it will be a new day, or the same one. I wonder if next year will come. I wonder if I will ever die.' You know these things will happen. The same way, I can bet you have gone to bed at least once thinking; 'Is God really real, and even if He is does he really love me? Was it really Him who created all of this?'

Truly, it is sad. God's presence in creation, His ultimate and unconditional love for us is visible everywhere, in every tree and every cloud, in every smiling face and every angry one. He is the one who makes the sun rise and the years go by, the one who changes the seasons and carefully crafts wrinkles onto our faces. He is always there, always loving us; wayward, sinful us!

Sunbeams will always fall in the morning, and moonbeams will always fall at night. If these things are true, how much more is it true that God will always love and care for us; always be there.

Hebrews 13:5b - 'I will never leave you, nor will I forsake you'

Job 37: 5-6, 14-16, most of 38,  "God's voice thunders in marvelous ways; He does great things beyond our understanding. He says to the snow, 'Fall on the earth,' and to the rain shower, 'Be a mighty downpour.'
¹⁴Listen to this, Job; stop and consider God's wonders. Do you know how God controls the clouds and makes his lightning flash? Do you know how the clouds hang poised, those wonders of Him who is perfect in knowledge?
Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm. He said: Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this. What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside? Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle? What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed, or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth? Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and a path for the thunderstorm, to water a land where no man lives, a desert with no one in it, to satisfy a desolate wasteland and make it sprout with grass? Does the rain have a father? Who fathers the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens when the waters become hard as stone, when the surface of the deep is frozen? Can you bind the twinkling Pleiades? Can you loose the cords of Orion? Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? Do you know the laws of the heavens? Can you set up God's dominion over the earth? Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water? Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, 'Here we are'? Who endowed the heart with wisdom or gave understanding to the mind? Who has the wisdom to count the clouds? Who can tip over the water jars of the heavens when the dust becomes hard and the clods of earth stick together? Do you hunt the prey for the lioness and satisfy the hunger of the lions when they crouch in their dens or lie in wait in a thicket? ^42:1-2Then Job replied to the Lord: 'I know that you can do all things, no plan of yours can be thwarted.'"

~LS

The grass is always greener...

Winter's ice loses its glory,
We tire of cold and white.
And with heavy hearts we count the months
'til flowers are in sight.

We cry with joy at the first warm breeze
And the tidings it may bring
For we know the grass is always greener
In the first few months of spring.

O to be a bird

A little ditty type poem I wrote. I had the title 'Oh to be a bird with wings' in my head for a while... it popped into my brain when I was swinging, you know, like on a playground. It is quite wonderful. I finally actually wrote it the other night... and ended up with random haikus. :D ah, the dear japanese influence!

"O' to be a bird with wings
And fly over you flightless things
Up I would soar to see the sky
I'd go until I was so high
I couldn't see the ground

I dream and dream of this
Until it turns into a wish
I continue to wish to fly up there
Where you can feel the wind in your hair
And the bugs in your teeth...


Oh to be a bird
Then I could fly 'cross the world
across the wide sea


Though I suppose being a bird
You couldn't say a word
You wouldn't be understood
You'd be expressive as wood

And I suppose, being a bird
No wits would be assured
You could be as dumb as a rock
To think would be... a shock!


I suppose, a bird
Cannot eat hamburgers, such
A sad tradgedy!


I think I like my life
Though it has a bit of Strife
I'll be content with walking
Thinking, eating, living, and talking!

I will be happy with myself
Put that dream upon a shelf
And I'll love my fellow flightless things
despite our sorrowful lack of wings


I am glad I am
not a bird, for how very
restrictive and sad"

Crossroads of... destiny? Perhaps... well, no, destiny works!

Lately I've been driving a lot.

The problem with this is that I am not good with directions. I'm too easily distracted.

I keep getting lost. I keep ending up at the intersection of 'Procrastination' and 'Work' and I have to make a choice but I can't decide.

The main issue is the time of year. I still have a lot of stuff waiting for me on 'Work' but the same goes for 'Procrastination.' I look down 'Procrastination' and I see flowers, rainbows, and butterflies. I look down 'Work' and I see storm clouds, dead trees, and zombies.

See, sometimes, when I choose to continue along 'Procrastination' I end up getting *some* things done, just not the things that count.

If I would just make myself turn onto 'Work', I would find the key. Because it turns out if you take 'Work', you end up on 'Freedom'. 'Procrastination' keeps crossing 'Work', but 'Freedom' is freedom.

I mean come on, rainbows and flowers make me sneeze anyway. And storm clouds and dead trees are so poetic and inspirational. I can do it: I can choose 'Work'

I think I'll just get on Interstate 'Sleep' and go until it ends. Then I'll wake up and get out of this metaphor nightmare. :D 

;)

~LS

HISHE - Author's Note

Wow. This was SO GREAT TO WRITE! Hahah. I think I am in love with this. Seriously, if the show ended this way, I might kiss Bryan AND Mike. ;)

SO to end any confusion, ‘cause I didn’t go into detail very much (this had to stay a one-shot!)

Katara and Zuko had fallen in love, but they were keeping their relationship a secret. Zuko told off Mai, but Katara was too chicken to tell off Aang. At that point, their plans were to go to Ba Sing Se with everyone else after the coronation.

THEN Zuko talked to his dad and found out info about his mom. They also found out that Ozai was planning a rescue of himself, that he was firebending-less, but still devious and powerful. With that kind of threat, Zuko couldn’t leave to find his mom.

PLUS Katara was STILL too chicken to talk to Aang.

SO they thought out this really elaborate plan.

Katara kills Ozai, but makes it look random. With Ozai she left a note to Aang.

They leave to go find Zuzu’s madre.

THEN Aang becomes disenchanted with Katara.

This solves my three main problems with the series.

#1 – the Kataang ending
#2 – Ozai being alive
#3 – Zuko not finding his mommy

WOW that was long!! Haha ok! Bye now! :D

PS -

The poem I used in this is awesome! it fit so amazingly

It is 'The Flood' by Robert Frost.


"Blood has been harder to dam back than water.
Just when we think we have it impounded safe
Behind new barrier walls (and let it chafe!),
It breaks away in some new kind of slaughter.
We choose to say it is let loose by the devil;
But power of blood itself releases blood.
It goes by might of being such a flood
Held high at so unnatural a level.
It will have outlet, brave and not so brave.
weapons of war and implements of peace
Are but the points at which it finds release.
And now it is once more the tidal wave
That when it has swept by leaves summits stained.
Oh, blood will out. It cannot be contained."

eeeehhhh I love it so much!

Spring...

"now winging selves sing sweetly,while ghosts(there
and here)of snow cringe;dazed an earth shakes sleep
out of her brightening mind:now everywhere
space tastes of the amazement which is hope

gone are those hugest hours of dark and cold
when blood and flesh to existence bow
(all that was doubtful's certain,timid's bold;
old's youthful and reluctant's eager now)

anywhere upward somethings yearn and stir
piercing a tangled wrack of wishless known:
nothing is like this keen(who breathes us)air
immortal with the fragrance of begin

winter is over-now(for me and you,
darling!)life's star prances the blinding blue"

~e.e.cummings

Poetry

Here is some random poetry I wrote when I was bored today :)

"Splashing, lapping, waves
Beautiful water, dancing
Swirling, healing them"
~Water

"It burns, it smolders
it explodes, with passion. Fire,
bright and beautiful"
~Fire

"Light and whimsical
cool and warm, ever-changing
Air: peaceful and calm"
~Air

"Solid, firm: The earth
stubborn as a solid wall
rocky, and dirty"
~Earth

yes, I'm an AtLA geek. get over it.

Green

"All I see is green

the green of the leaves,
on the spring trees

the green of the grass,
fresh and cool

the green of the brush,
stickers, holly, boxwoods

the green of the weeds,
rearing their ugly heads

the green of the ivy,
creeping slowly over the trees

the green of the water,
covered in scum and reflections.

the green of my envy
for, he loves her, not me"

Aangsty poems are fun to write! I'm not actually envious, or anything, it just fit!

This one is more of a song...

"Floating and bobbing,
quite a sight to see
they sway and they sigh
they engage in curiositu

Filled with air
round as the sun
clear, and glassy
infected with fun

Blow them up
Pop them down
Create, Destroy, Create, destroy

Blow them up
Pop them down
Create, Destroy, Create, destroy

Bubbles
Bubbles
Bu-bbles

Careful now
don't you spill
or everything
be lost, it will.

Careful now,
don't you spill
or everything
everything...

we've had our fill of,

bubbles
bubbles
bubbles
bubbles

Blow them up
Pop them down
Create, Destroy, Create, destroy

bubbles
bubbles
bubbles
bubbles"


That all folks!

Butterfly Thoughts

Thoughts flitting about in my head, like trapped birds
Or butterflies, wings traveling at heartrending speeds
They go so fast, they're hard to catch
And when caught, hard to hold on to

I caught a beautiful butterfly, but I let it slip away
My fingers were too weak to hold its rapid wings
It was a wish, a want, a need; but now it's gone
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind it waits
 And plots, for the next time I'm insomniatic
Then it shall spring forth, only to get loose again

Fingers of the mind
Weakened by lack of sleep
And an overpowering number of thoughts

They cannot hold onto these butterflies
Strong and young and fresh as they are,
Not concious of life or the lack thereof outside of their own glorious
beings

These butterflies fall silent in the light.
One or two will spring forth, and bring the mind to life
But the great cacophony of fluttering wings is silent

Oh, for the strength and vitality of the butterflies
Oh, to be able to hold on to them, to grasp their knowledge
Oh, to remember my ideas, brilliant as they may be.
Oh that they would shut up and let me sleep.