Feelings Smell

Anger smells like smoke, boiling from your brain

Happiness smells like pine trees, like refreshers for your nose.

Fear smells like gasoline, you know it's there, but not everybody is alarmed

Surprise smells like rain, a burst of shock and awe.

Sadness smells like salt, teardrops from the oceans.

Annoyance smells like skunks, someone you just want to get away from.

Duck Pond

There are three duck ponds near my house that I have gone to.  One at the university and two at the local parks.  They each haunt me with memories.

The one at the university, is one I have walked past several times by myself, on my way to class, while I was a student there.  I walked by the pond as I walked from the social science building to the art building.  The pond involves several water fountains and a zig zag path leading to a round about sidewalk.  The sidewalk is covered in duck feces, which is pretty gross.   The sprinklers are usually on around the grass during my visits, so I had to choose certain paths to walk around it.  My grandparents and my mom took my brother and I to feed bread to the ducks when they were alive and I was little.  The pond seemed bigger when I was a kid.

The second pond is at Layton park, my hometown.  The park is a cross the street from my high school.  This duck pond is more like a river with rapids, than a quiet spot.  We move down the path in a south direction like the water does.  I spent many Saturdays walking around it with other kids while my brother had baseball games in the park.  I had a science field trip in junior high, where we had to walk around the pond and collect leaves for our notebooks.  There was two old benches with a waterfall made out of rocks, which has severly become decrepid over the years.  I had a art field trip in high school, where we had to take elements from the park and turn it into an art piece.  I chose a tree and I collected some flowers and grass and stuck them into the tree branches and into the knot on the tree.  My theme was Like flowers, life blooms.  My teacher took pictures of all of our projects and turned them into slides.

The third pond at Pioneer Park. I didn't go to this one a lot, because it is kinda far away.  I went there with my family and some of my cousins.  Another time on a field trip with my elementary class.  This park has a giant hill overlooking the pond, where you can sit and watch people paddle in their boats.  The park also has a carnival attached to it, with games and a ferris wheel.  This ferris wheel was featured in the movie, Charly, where a dying Charly gives her husband, Sam, tickets to ride with her when he gets to Heaven too.

Summer Camp

Pickup truck waiting for the storm to blow over.
Setting up camp and making a fire.
Especially cold for an August night.
Crisp air from that morning's prelude.
The pine trees are enchanted with sparkles.
Awaking to the sound of a chipmunk chasing a baby bird on a branch.
Only in the mountains, can you have so much peace.

Deep Sleep

Words float into my head when I dream.
I dream of the best things like deserted beaches and rusty hammocks.
I dream about going somewhere South and exploring ancient ruins.
I dream about my fears of sharks, dinosaurs, and snakes.
I dream about the love I'll never get and cry to make it real.
Then I wake up and forget everything,
Only to discover the secrets over and over again,
Each and every night.

So Many Souls

I wonder how many people I will never meet...
I wish I could meet them all
Putting a part of their goodness into me.

Serenity

My head is spinning
and it's going to shatter
into a million pieces.
My fingers bleed hungrily
for a piece of paper and a pen.
I'm having writer's block,
hoping it's not permanent.
I'd give anything
to have a pillow
and a blanket,
so I could sleep
and maybe dream
up some words to write.

The Industrious one

Goes by Beloved
My work friend
God's promise is her middle name
Lying in fear of tumors
She is brave

She Who Supplants

A girl known with a boy's name
Living in a sunny town
Watches gothic television shows
Recovering from a cliff-climbing accident

Sick to Death

Sick to death
Been there, saw that
Freedom is life's engagement
Bundles of lies and promises
Beautiful sweat
Silver chisels are forgotten

Hunting Experience

Snakes
Slither into the jungle
Whispering to the trees
Swimming in the river
Stalking their prey
Poking out their beady eyes
And their shallow tongues
Hiding in the branches till dusk

Shallow Tuesdays

Winter winds sound like cooking pans
Banging into the windows
And paint is torn from the cottages
I can't sleep
Because the wind is too noisy
To close my eyes
So I comfort my cat
Who is too scared
To poke her head out of the covers
To see if the windows are broken
I wish and pray I could be deaf

Nature's Pen

Nature's pen . . .
Takes the dullest word and makes it into a lurid sentence.
Writes poetry taste like summer's strawberries,
Too delicious to stare at.
Sways back and forth in the park's breeze.
Makes the wind tickle my cheek with its fingers, as it brushes my hair.
Dances in the moonlight to no particular melody.

If I Could Leave

If I could leave this place,
I would go to Ireland,
I hear it's nice in the spring.

If I Were an Animal

If I were an animal,
I would be a cat,
Staring out the window,
Chasing butterflies.

Raindrops

Raindrops
Puddles of purple paint
Flowing onto the paper
Making a rainbow of weather
More beautiful than any artist can paint
Crisp, cool, and brillant in the summer's breeze

Walking Home

Walking home on expanded roads and high cliffs,
Punishment for being to greedy.
A five minute race,
Mailbox is the finishe line.
Closing my eyes, pretending to be blind,
Counting the steps,
Trampling over daffodils,
The air grasps my throat,
Making my lungs ache,
Rain conquers my thirst.

The Funeral

The Funeral
to remember you this way
Singing hymms to you
Your wonderful smile
Picture frames of fuzzy memories
Hope is lingering to emptyness
Wishing for one more day
To hear your laugh
Hope you are happy

Picnic

My nose bleeds on my hand in between my fingers.
I reach for a napkin but all there are are paper towels.
Everyone stares at me like I'm an invalid.
I look into their eyes and wonder why they never get blood noses.
Maybe their noses don't run at all,
Because they're perfect in their sheltered lives.
A life full of silver napkins and metal forks.
Where chicken drowns in mashed potatoes.
And bees sip their kool-aid
Checkered tablecloths and picnick baskets.
Till their picnic is ruing by ants and my bloody nose.

Cloud

Sometimes I wish
I was a cloud
So I could look down
And see the greatest
Things in the whole world

The Yard

That empty yard
used to be full
of children, trampolines, and laughter.
Now I'm indoors,
looking out to the past.