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May. 4th, 2010


How I became a Nerd

1) I was predestined to be a nerd. Since the time when I could sleep on my own my parents put me in the family library. I didn't have hardly any toys, just books, lots of books.

2) In the 7th grade I was getting really interested in theater. Since I went to a small private school everyone was into sports, you were only cool if you played sports. When I decided to try out for the fall play instead of play volleyball all of my friends disowned me. But it's okay, because it was the beginning of my nerd self actualization.

3) As a freshman in high school I was actually pretty cool. I hung out with cool people, I watched cool movies with cool friends and was involved in cool activities...Then I joined robotics. It was complete social suicide. But I didn't care, I loved it, and I poured myself into it like nothing before! Finally I found people who loved the nerdy things I loved! I was free at last!
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Apr. 27th, 2010



I have been incredibly lazy with April Poetry this year
However, I cannot get this poem out of my head, I feel like it is everything I have needed to know in the past 6 months
I wrote it a few nights ago at 3 in the morning
Here is the edited and final version:

God is the wind
The roaring, tumbling, blue storm clouds
And the tiny white flowers that
Hang on for dear life
As the grass sways violently beneath the music

God is the vast blue
Explosions singing color over the mountains
And breath into your lungs

God is the spirit of crooked trees
That reach their arms for help
In the coldest of cold snowy nights

God is translucent
The underside
Of the dirty river
That begs for one more tired street song

God is in the stillness
The quiet
The deep crevices of nothing
That lurk our dreams and our tears

God is the wind
The roaring, tumbling, blue storm clouds
That cry an infinite ocean in your eyes
And look up in one final and exhausted

Here is the much longer original:
God is the wind
The roaring, tumbling, blue storm clouds
The waves that kiss rocks
And the tiny sound of stars in the night

God is the curls around the nape of your neck
God is the sundance, the language of birds
The infinite ocean in your eyes

God is the tiny white flowers that
Hang on for dear life
As the grass sways violently beneath the music

God is in the stillness
The quiet
The deep crevaces of nothing
That lurk our dreams and our tears

God is the vast blue
Explosions singing color over the mountains
And breath into your lungs
The sweet humming
And blazing hot sand
That echoes the mojave desert

God is the spirit of crooked trees
That reach their arms for help
In the coldest of cold snowy nights

God is the warm skin of flower petals
Beauty entwined penmanship
Of dew
Drop after drop
That falls from the leaf to the pond
And from the pond to our souls

God is transluscent
Dancing freely from wave to mystery
Setting the facts on fire
And begging for one more tired street song

God is the underside
Of the dirty river
The crunching of tiny gravel
The pine branches that itch our noses

For one more sip of sparkling cider
God is a feast
Awake with swaying conversation
Saturated in sweet and subtle glimpses
That say "Come"

God is the quiet one girl
With red hair with cold fingers and broken eyes

God is the creativity
Life in all shapes and sizes
Looking up
In one final exuberant breath

Apr. 13th, 2010


Can you hear?

April 8
I am so much more than you know
The world is hanging on threads
Of silver string
Entwined with one more day
And "it will be worth it in the end"
But I come and sit
In the shining hot grass
And let the sun
Kiss my skin

April 9
I let the rythm swing back and forth
The waves and the rocks
My chest and my soul
The lillies of the field
In your hands
Can I stay here
And breathe the dew of morning
And fire of night?

April 10

I know it's kind of scary
And dangerous
But the black is everything
Collapsing on the concrete
Is sweet release
And I'm gone

April 11
I like that the kitchen floor is dirty
Squirming and yanking
It feels like home
My hair is greasy
My nails are chipped
But this beauty
Comes from our souls
Breathing as one
Deep in the morning
And all through the night
It feels like home
And I don't even live here

April 12
Here's a wonderful memory
Sacramento, 2007
Wind in the words
Excitement crests
Something in me has awakened
I'm sweating, itchy, and completely exhausted
But as I lie in the grass
Letting my voice and muscles relax
I feel his arm on my shoulder
And quietly saying
"You are what we need."

April 13
They're lurking
In the sahdows
Behind the brick walls
Letting the fountain water
Camouflage their stunned eyes
And their opened hearts
That let the notes sail out of my mouth
And into their lives

Apr. 7th, 2010


Wind Musk

April 6
Kind of like musk
But with more wind
And kind of like sleeping
Except you have your eyes open
And you're living your life with
This exhileration
As if any moment
You would break into dance

April 7
I like your smile
And your squinted slit eyes
As you drink your hot water
And sit as you always have
Waiting or wondering
What in the world we are doing here
And why, why, why, we have never
Dug into the earth
And found
That the spring has sprung


Apr. 5th, 2010


April 5

Todo esta para manana
Y no sabes
La belleza
Para tu cara
Solo para tu cara
Con los dedos
El viento
Y todo yo deseo
En la profundidados de mi alma
Es para ti
Es para ti

Apr. 4th, 2010


Symphony, Worship

April 3
To do the unusual
The extraordinary
The one of a moment
Is attainable

April 4
Throwing my hands in the air
And looking ridiculous
Just might be
The happiness
We need

Apr. 3rd, 2010


(no subject)

April 2nd

I am the observer
I am the curiosity
To sit and ponder and question
No wonder kids hate science
When they sit and ponder and question
Benedict comes and stares thickly into our eyes
He doesn't ask why
He didn't silence his soul and take a bite
Of red yellow apple fallen from that famous tree
He just came and fed his fed up mind
And told Euclid not to draw circles anymore
Because it wasn't his property
But here we are
hiding in the bushes of sea grass
Watching Euclid draw his circles
But seeing only moons
Drawn in the sand
Because we are the observers
We are curiosity

Apr. 2nd, 2010

poetic girl

April Poetry

It's April again! Time for poetry, and poetry and the vast pages of poetry!

April 1
And the Empty space is
Filling my lungs with words
That you said
Long ago
When we were friends
But now
I open my drawer
And the envelopes
With blue and red ink
on the shoulders
Are filled with Empty space

Mar. 21st, 2010


(no subject)

How my fingers move when I type
And the way pull up my hair
The pictures I cut out from magazines
The way I write my t's and b's
The rhythm of my sleeping breath
My fascination with books on Mormonism
The way my hands move when I drive my car
My collection of fortunes from fortune cookies
The way I hold my purse
And how I tilt my head to the right when I sing
My teeth and my toes
And the way I vacuum
My voice when I read out loud
And how I know the name of every star
When my eyelashes stick together when I cry
My love for dinosaurs and things that look pretty
My calligraphy and my forehead
And my puppets
The way I take notes
And the way my tongue moves when I speak Spanish
How my feet move when I run
How my fingers seamlessly strum
My ears, and my pajamas,
And the ways my eyes smile when I laugh

He will love me.
For all of it
poetic girl

Under the Skin

I could
Have been
So much like you
If only I didn't like sunrises
Better than sunsets
If only I would stop looking
Through telescope lenses
And into the aggressive and hopeless fashions

And they're not glamrous
He doesn't smile alot
And she doesn't text like everyone else
And maybe they don't like basketball games
Or music where
The girl sings with her mouth
And not with her brain
And what ever happened
To classy
Or even genuine
When he breaks my window open at three in the morning
Becuase he can't sleep
I won't be angry
But I'll make tea
When you lie down at night
After all your makeup
is gone
And your beautiful dress is hung up
What will you feel?
Do you know the deepest desires of your own soul?
I pick at my nails
And I spend the morning making
Tiny sketches
I don't know if you can feel it
But I can
And I am not afraid
To play in the middle of the courtyard
To let the sky mess up my hair'
To let my feet get all dirty from dancing in the mud
To paint words on my wall with permanent ink
And know that all is free
I am free

I hope one day
You realize that you're missing something
And I'll be here waiting for you
To take off your shoes
And roll down the window
And let the wind
Play with your breath
Trust me
It's real

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