annaaa in a fairytaleee.

Stars and Denim

2013-05-12T11:30:00.001-07:00

Brand new chucks
Worn till they don't have soles
Till duck tape can't cover their holes
Never had a dollar till she got to college
Never had enough to eat
Never could get enough sleep
Door locked barricading herself in
Never gave her peace
Never felt safe enough to be

Always praying for morning,
Hiding from moonlight and its big bad wolf
Too young to be so angry

Tile floor never felt so cold
Shaking hands never felt so old
Suicde; she'd never be so bold

Youth:

2013-05-02T23:12:00.001-07:00

First drove on a dirt road
Up a cliff
One wheel spinning air
Man I was flying
Screaming like this is it:
Life.
Gotta love that goddamn
Adrenaline rush.

Gliding fast over concrete
White converse
sprinting down sidewalks
Asphalt streets,
dust fields where crops failed
Climbing hills
riddled with rattlesnakes
Lift me higher,
keep me up
Gotta touch that goddamn sky
Free fall.

The Bluffs:

2013-04-26T22:59:00.001-07:00

Half my poems are still sitting on a shelf
Waiting for a publisher to come and write a check
Waiting for magazine to come and pat my back
Half my soul still screaming through the ink
Smeared lines and blood stains
Mangling with the wrinkles in the paper
Twice thrown away
Twice smoothed across the table
Twice I'd given up
Lost the rhyme, the flow, the high
Like surfing perfect breaks at sunset
Was convinced I'd quit
give up on the dream
The word those words were gone had left
Weren't ever coming back
Till they did like swells along the pier
Smashing into wood
Crashing into shore
Drifting back and forth
Till they fizzled white along with low-tide
Sea spray and rip-currents
Pulling you away until your just but
Bright surf boards bobbing to the bluffs

White fences:

2013-04-21T11:09:00.001-07:00

There's a rumble
A great noise
That sounds like a South African stamped of rhinoceros's
Loud and frightful
Gaulish at nightfall
It disrupts the suburbs silence
White picket fences
Rose gardens, victory gardens
Survival gardens.
It's uncommon here
We've never experienced it here
The roar of helicopter blades spinning
The sound of boot heels running
Landing, parachuting, invading
I am among the lucky
I've never seen war invade the suburbs.

Rain Water Bins:

2013-03-13T23:46:00.001-07:00

The rain comes in swift
Pleats, our tin roof and water bin
Fills, tips and refills

Velveteen Curtains:

2012-12-31T16:48:00.001-08:00

The curtain falls
the face of a girl huffs
Her red checks are
like stamped on rose petals
smeared across cement sidewalks

The audience applauds
Encore!
the screams drape like a foxes fur
over her shoulder blades
settling in like thunder, hail, and rumbling gravel dancing over train tracks

Her body aches
toes bleed through pink slippers
stray hairs stick to painted rogue lips
mind races to the pianos tempo
starched tulle skirts pressed up and out
toes pointed, back arched, knees locked tight
eyes peeking between
the creases in the velveteen curtains
searching for the boy

The boy who made her smile
was a lair,
who said their affair was right
because it felt right
took her hand and jumped off
Huntington Pier with her
just so she could feel
the wind in her hair

Cycle:

2012-12-26T22:10:00.001-08:00

The air is thick and cold
the kind I ache for
endlessly, bitterly,
striking across my skin
freezing my fingers
turning me to dust
there's a bird
with pretty black wings
he doesn't know it
but I've named him Meg
there's a boy
whose all right for me
but I'll say nothing to him
and he'll never notice me
he wears a caramel sweater
and smiles at me before crossing the street
I could smile
should have, would have, ought to of
but I walked to class
and so goes the cycle.

Irons:

2012-12-19T15:42:00.001-08:00

She is heavy leaded
with sagging shoulder blades,
got mercury and acid from the 70s in her veins
brick factory from the Great Depression in her basement
Orange preserves in jam jars,
her six brothers weren't draft dodgers
They fought and came back from Vietnam
could tell you stories of kids strapped with bombs
that'll make your skin crawl
came home without parades,
people threw bottles at their heads
called the men 'baby killers'
Arthur was a marine
tied a rope to an attic rafter and hung himself
His sister went mad
was locked away
in some white padded cage
the doctors, parents, friends
stretched their arms back till the muscles clenched
and threw that iron key
straight into the Mediterranean Sea
the world forgot all about her
and the hanged marine

Wet Sateen:

2012-12-13T08:29:00.001-08:00

The rain is falling down so fast
it makes the sound of swirling melodies
tink tink tink
the wind is like the bass and drums
rushing, blowing through oak trees.

There's a leak in the roof I painted blue
drops hit the cast of iron
and the triangle sounds

God it's like a whirlwind out there
I spin and spin arms wide sateen slip
sticking to me like a second skin
It's brilliantly cold outside the air burns to breath
I write a letter leave it for the rain to eat

Dear world,
Never let the rain stop.
It's ink swirls and whirls dripping like mascara tears,
like the drapery of St. Matthews Ebbo Gospels.

Athenian Rhetoric:

2012-12-11T03:00:00.001-08:00

The weeping willow tree
is riddled with silver bullets
that stick out like scars
and tinsel draped over Christmas trees
My aunt Sharon has a metal cage in her back
cancer and a trailer in strawberry park
she's got a tormented past like I do
I suppose that why we connect
This worlds got such a rage to it
people never just walk to walk
lawsuits handled in courts
by the incarnated rhetors of the Athenians
a showpiece, men lying about lairs to those who know their lying.
Is it justified yet?

Sticks, Fists + Broken Bones:

2012-11-03T22:00:00.001-07:00

She cut the ties of anyone who had the power to hurt her. She wasn't running or forgetting, she was leaving, because the oppressed always get tired of being oppressed. She left the people who mattered the most to her, the ones who ripped apart her soul, she left and has never looked back. It was the easiest thing she'd ever done.

--This is an sample from a short story I'm working on called "Sticks, Fists + Broken Bones".

Favorite Quote:

2012-09-27T16:49:00.002-07:00

"All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know." - Enerst M. Hemingway
A truly good quote should make you think something different every time you hear it.

Invocation of a Goddess:

2012-09-22T11:38:00.001-07:00

Sing goddess the wrath of Achilles,

whose swift feet carried the Myrmidons across the Aegean.

Sing goddess the tale of Hector,

breaker of horses, whose glory of Troy still pulses today.

Sing goddess the song of doltish Paris,

whose arrow killed Greece’s greatest warrior.

Sing of Briseis who tamed a soldier’s heart

And brought peace to his lifetime of war.

Sing goddess that of witty Odysseus,

whose said to have lived in the time of great Achilles

And of the ruler of Kings, Agamemnon

whose brother Menelaus brought forth the Trojan War.

Sing goddess, forever the songs of fallen heroes

Of Swift Achilles, and Ithaca’s’ wily King

Of Poseidon’s tribute which brought down the gates of Troy

Of Helen, child born of a swan and god,

Sing of Patroclus who fell at Hector’s blade

Sing forever of their glory, lest they be forgotten

God help us all, against the wrath of Achilles.

Unpolished:

2012-09-11T22:50:00.001-07:00

Living in the shadow of my scars.
These pasts of ours define
just who we are.
Clinging to the memories that cut
so deep
Trying to survive in a world that makes
me weak
Letting those tears fall
cause my eyes are aching for it
This is the roughest part of me
Unpolished and unclean

We're All in A Jesters Suit:

2012-08-28T19:27:00.001-07:00

She smiles like its forced
Often lost between her world and ours
In avoidance with right and wrong
etched in salty tumlbled stones
Blighted fools in jester suits
Mayhap we know the worsts to come
Lest we be forgotten for last
Better charm those gypsies
With ale and stale coins abound
Necks bent down by a weighty sun
Villages of loved patrons
Docents to tell of lost kingdom comes
Still she smiles sweet
Full of malice, full of release
Vultures aim at hearty length
Lives smoothed by a loves sweet embrace

War:

2012-08-17T19:01:00.002-07:00

What is peace?

If not a showpiece

of bias blindness.

Brash in its malice

claiming chorus’ of soldiers

with drab camouflage armors’.

Promises dripping under pretenses of – due valor

a mirage of homeland glory

suspended among avid imaginations

bloodied and blessed in a – subdued bliss;

they lay dying

brothers in arms

at the very front line

a distant and blurry sight of

Gods pearly white – Crescent moon

they all smile

for it aligns perfectly;

to say goodbye.

What have you learned?

2012-07-18T20:01:00.001-07:00

I learned to forgive.
to let the bitterness of other people glide right over me
to sing for a crowd of beach goers even if they boo
to drink only when I'm happy
to pull off to the side of a highway just to get a perfect picture
to understand that my scars will never heal
to smile because they've made exactly what I am;
perfect.
I learned that people are unjustifiably mean
that we may live under the first amendment but that people should know, not to protest a mothers child's funeral
Because its inhumane. Because its wrong. Because he died fighting for you.
I learned to live and let live.
to write because its not a pay check but a way of life
to apologize when I'm wrong
to be okay with losing a friend when they don't accept your apology
to live surrounded by music and classical poetry
to keep hydrangea's in my bedroom because they remind me of Long Island
to live for small moments of sheer happiness and peace
And that the hardest thing a person can do is forgive.

What have you learned?

Livelihood | As Applied by an iPhone

2012-07-18T19:12:00.000-07:00

1. Nightly reading selection.
2. Scramble play; your not playing right if you don't switch languages occasionally.
3. I make a sexy stache lady. Perhaps I shall run away and join a traveling circus.
4. Palm Springs! Why oh why do I have to leave you?
5. Lesson 1: Do not wear bed slippers when you go muddin'. Lesson 2: When your brother tells you the crawl through a pit, do not slow your car to a stop. Keep the momentum or you will be calling you Dad at 1:00 am to come pull your loop-sided car out.
6. Budferd is not fond of neighboring cats. They invade his territory.
7. Full moon = Teen Wolf marathon.
8. Why is it that I always seem to wake up to this?
9. Make a wish,
hold it tight,
let your dreams fly.
Get down tonight.

Youthful Branding:

2012-07-17T16:28:00.001-07:00

Feel the wind in my hair
Feel the smoke in my teeth
Feel it rush through my lungs
As Last of my resolve breaks
Acid leaving me shaken
Some of us are branded for life
We leave behind our forgotten happiness
Shed tears of disrespect
We fall down in a constant disarray of lunacy
Hoping for blood
Praying for relief
A silver blade to take away
A teenagers bloated pain
Release me
We are carefully branding ourselves
Always aching
Wondering why people can disregard us?
We bleed
Can't you see?
This is your youth speaking.
Future leaders
Your tomorrow will yield scarred flesh
Hear us plead our case,
We come for peace.

Sands of Indian Wells:

2012-06-09T00:12:00.002-07:00

Blue haze of the salt water,

jubilant birthday cheers muffled

I plunge deeper, eyes on fire,

lungs beg for air,

I push up forward

rays of fading sunlight blind me

a brother is baiting a sister,

a mother looks to the father,

who looks on fondly

his father celebrates his eightieth birthday

It’s all I can do to keep from bawling

I sink underwater

and like a weight sit at the pools bottom

until my lungs ache, then scream

until I convulsively push upward

breaking the surface cleanly

gasping in air like its a heroin addicts next fix

I plunge back under and sink to the bottom

It’s all I can do to keep from bawling

Life:

2012-05-18T15:28:00.000-07:00

Senior students make big plans

to waste their parents money

blue-collar cotton farmers

scrap by to make ends meat

while China mass-produces polyester suits.

Lovely little cottages

tucked away against white frosted treetops

bathing in moonlight and yellow fireflies

a girls first broken heart

never truly heals.

A sad smile creases wrinkled eyes

screaming prayers for her loved one

cursing his name because he left

fifty years of marriage now she’s alone

memories of them in Bay Shore on VHS

black and white photo snapshots

“Oh God,” she cries

six gunshots rip through mornings’ light

a granddaughter clutches to a folded flag

they both see each others pain in their eyes

Life’s a bitch.

Tornado:

2012-05-18T15:25:00.000-07:00

Electric white,

light floods the sky

a strike of lightening attacks

cool sand twice

a drizzle of rain

falls in a pitter-patter way

the rhythm of two heartbeats

sounds as if it

pulses with the warning

of the tornado’s drum

Blond hair like a flash

of moonlight against

the grey sky

‘A storm’s a’ coming deary’ says the old man next door

her blue eyes never leave the ground

‘I’ve got to find my dolly, Sir.’

The morning after; a photographer

in dirty kakis and old Tom’s

finds his way to the heart of the damage

forever captures a piece of straw

that has cut straight through a metal telephone pole

the dirty swamp has washed ashore

a flash of yellow, the snap of the shutter

he bends to examine the stark colors

of red stained dirt, silver metal, blond hair

and a girl clutching onto her dolly

Childhood:

2012-05-15T19:28:00.003-07:00

'Tweet tweet sing the birdies'

My grandma use to say

Blue jay and red robins feed

From seeds in handcrafted bird houses my dad made

God blessed his hands he always would say

Days spent dressing my grandpa's thin hair

Shared breakfast on Sundays

Hot dogs and eggs

Tuna fish sandwiches cut in half

Nachos and ball park franks at Anaheim stadium

Walks around el dorado's duck pond

Drives down to mothers beach

Knott's Berry Farm in the summer time

Session passes to Disneyland

Where I spent every Friday night

Clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls

Chocolate dipped ice cream cones

Grand opening of California Adventure, I was there

A Build-a-bear at Christmas time

Tortilla factory gave free samples

A bug's life almost made my mom pee herself

Sharon's doing I'm sure.

Which reminds me, note to self:

Do not ride a Ferris Wheel with Aunt Sharon again

She rocks the boat

Bulsachika on Saturdays

Where I got stuck washing out wetsuits

Palm Springs the week of Memorial day

The pool that dyed my hair green

Where my grandpa taught me to swim

Where my father cannon balled me into the deep end

I was a grown up when I could play cards in the cochella room

The cliff house on the last Saturday night

Painful memories I'll never forget.

Why do childhoods go by so fast?

And whose to eat my egg whites now?

Compass:

2012-05-03T10:09:00.002-07:00

I was recently given the chance to review a poetry book written by Erik Hansen. I deeply enjoyed the rough scratches of symbolism and rigid nature depicted in his borderline prose debut. If you wish to read the review of this book you can find it here:

The Perfect Herald: Compass Review

Zealot:

2012-04-30T23:00:00.001-07:00

Evermore the love
of the zealots last goodbye

evermore the pain
of the pastors broken home

evermore the proud
hearted men who know no bounds
to save a damsel

evermore a Marine.