First Day of my Life

There was a time on my mission when I made up songs in the shower. XD A lot of them had a sort of Ingrid Michaelson-ish beat. My companions thought I was singing "worldly" songs, but really I was making up songs about missionary work. This is the only one I wrote down, though it was probably later, because it made more sense in the shower, I know. Haha. Anyhow, It's called, First Day of my Life. By the way, it was probably just after the earthquake and just before my last transfer. :) Thus the foreboding plane and future life. Haha. And slight trunkiness.

6 o' clock. Wake up,
to put on your makeup.
Sit up, scan the scene
to remember where you've been.

Today you'll start a new life
The kind of made-a-promise life
Gonna be a great life!
Talk to His children life!

Day one, Week three.
Changes. Cry time.
Lift your eyes to heaven
to remember time!

Today you're in a new life,
Serving others for their good life.
Fall in. Leap out.
Following the best life.

Making changes, all sorts of re-arranges.
I just hope you make it a good one
Won't always be there to help you,
because I've got other promises to keep.

One and a half or two years,
hope not to get on the plane years.
...because then you're gonna wake up
just to get your makeup,
start another new life.

No one else has changed life.
Graduate from school life,
Make another great life.
Write another card life.

Lift-them-up-with cheer life,
kiss your mom and cherish life.
Family type.

Hope you don't ruin it.
This'll be my 3rd life,
not that type of feline
that wastes the other 6 lives.

It's gonna be a good one!
Gonna make a promise one!
This time I'll kiss you,
made it past the "miss you!"

Gonna be a good life,
guess I'll make a good wife.
Make it to the best day
In the first day of my life.

A random tidbit

Noise
falls like rain
on my cotton sweater
And winter
starts like fire
melting warmth
into ice.

Hope
flowers like riddance
in my withered heart.
And spring
starts like sleet
to wake its
sleepless head.

Twilight-Induced

So, sometimes songs kinda half-form themselves in my mind. And... this morning, I woke up with this question on my mind:

Is it Twilight-induced?

Now, you all might laugh at me... you should, 'cause I laughed too when this question became a song. I've been trying to write the rest of it, but I'm sort of failing. Here's what I've got:

I promise I'm awake by nine AM,
but I don't want to get out of bed.
I'm too busy thinking of how
you used to mean nothing to me.

Is it Twilight-induced,
the way you're always on my mind?
Is it Twilight-induced,
the way I think you'd be a vampire?
(Yeah, I think that one is.)
It was Twilight-induced.
It was Twilight-induced.

Is it Twilight-induced,
That your skin is pale?
It's not ice cold.
(I kind of like that it's not ice cold.)
Is it Twilight-induced?
Is it Twilight-induced?

---That's all. Lol. I think the last stanza is by far my favorite. The rest is kinda... lame. Yup.

Seriously, though. That book/film is making it really hard for me to want to study lately. I just want to curl up in my blankets all day and daydream. It's pretty much my favorite. Pride and Prejudice did this too me too. :D

Oh, and yes, I read the book a long time ago, but I just saw the movie for the second time last night. I've decided that it gets better the second time. You learn to appreciate the cheeseyness. <3

It's also affecting my need to make Q'antesn less romantic. In other words, I'm having a really easy time writing the happy, romantic parts--- but not so much the main bulk of the story, which is really quite depressing and... un-romantic. Heheh.

Sometimes it tastes like
sand
in her mouth
And her eyes
and her ears
itch.

Media Collections

The CDs are stacked
in blue
and
yellow.
Their contents are assorted
Vivaldi,
Mozart,
Banjo triumphs,
and
Enrique.
I'm so sorry that I can't help you,
for their contents are
s at ed
c er
t
and don't quite make sense.

(browse, if you'd like.)

Girl #904

He never liked her,
can't she see?
He's waited so long for Girl #3.
And she's only girl #904.
His hand sculpts a world
she longs to see,
but his eyes are puddles
of indecision.

His lips
taste like slurpees
but only in her dreams.

I see her try as
she begins to fall.
Can't he see
she's waited so long
for someone
to tell her
what love is anyway?
And her eyes are streams
of baffled hope.

Her hand
feels like laughter,
but only in his dreams.

On a Napkin

Thrilling in the quiet spaces,
I fill my heart with you.

...but you mean nothing more to me
than green bugs and rainbows.

I adore you.

Girl Talks

Contemplating the things that matter
to me is like opening Pandora's cursed box.
I've got too much to sort through
and too little time.
I'm a ticking time bomb
and the explosion isn't mine.

Dendrites and Kisses

A silver Ford swerves past me.
I glance,
and find images
that race through my brain.
Like fire
my mind raises up against me.
I shudder.
How can you
invade my thoughts?
Am I condemned to always think
of you?

Your smile
is like candy to my sugar tooth.
I wish it wasn't.
I wish it wasn't.
I want to forget you. I want
to rise
against the storm of life and say
"At least I tried.
At least I was denied."
At least
I kept that first kiss
In a jar for safekeeping.

I think
I lost
the jar.

Black Widow

From where I sat, the screen appeared a bit
distorted.
I sat there still, surrounded by smiles and
bitterness.
They laugh, as the screen
demands.
Suddenly, a shout is
heard.
I lift my shoe and leap back in
suprise.
She sits, confident in her
ebony shine
like the miserable widow
she is.

A Mirror Image

I wondered once why life affects me this way.
I look at you.
Your face is a smile!
True,
it may occasionally retreat,
but why does it never turn over and frown?
Always
so
happy.

Save me. Tell me how to change it.
The way I see it,
The world is a bit jaded
More
than enough to make gone your teeth.
I can't help sometimes but feel it
Wanting
you
miserable.

It's awful, the way it builds up inside.
And then you smile.
"Life is just sad for awhile.
Keep
trudging through obstacles
like torrents of rain,
and you can
just be
happy."

Coming of Age

Imagine.
The light shines
like the emerald eyes
of the lingering crocodile.
With the tick, tock, tick,
tack-tock.
In a rythmic invasion
of time and space.

Breathe.
What life never told you was
that its good for more than oxygen.
It helps when you're around.
Like a vacuum I might suck
it in and empty it again.
What you steal is rightly yours,
though it wasn't true before.

Embrace.
Childhood slips away like
morning dews on a summer day.
What you thought was there
was really gone before you
had a chance to taste it.
I take a sip, but the taste is like
grape juice turned to wine.

Forever changed,
but essentially the same.

Living in Sand

What was the last thing I heard?
Was it an offer?
There is trouble in your voice
though I can't hear it.

It's like I'm living in sand
and you give me your hand.
I'll take it if you let me make this
more than it was
and less than it could be.
Rising from the dust of the Mohave.

Explainations left in the dark,
like something's missing.
I've risen; I've become
what you needed me to be.

So now I'm living on land.
Make me believe and
I'll climb to the peak if you
let me find release
in the wind of the storm
rising from the oceans of indesicion

And you.

Be the Girl

Posted on myspace blog (April 12, 2007)

I was sitting in my joy and wondering
what he was doing. There's nothing
wrong with thinking he might be thinking
of me too. She thinks its fine, why don't
I try? I might insist, I'm just not that kind of girl.

I'm not the kind of girl who knows what she's doing
I wanna be the one who catches you looking
into my eyes, yes they are blue, silly.
Why can't I say that you're nothing more than witty.
I'm such a fool, my heart would tell me.
I wanna be the girl who goes for it anyways.

Everyone else knows where they're going.
My eyes might smile, but my feet feel far behind me.
She says I should run back to find you falling
To pick you up. Can I? Couldn't I?

She can't believe that I saw him coming
She can't believe that I felt like running
From the corner of my eye I saw his eye catch mine
we both looked away, there was nothing to say.
Life is drifting and I'm too busy
to be the girl who chases your pretty face.

I want to be the girl you hold so close
I want to be the one you never leave
in the dark. I can see you looking for a seat
If I was that girl I'd wave and you might come
and see that that girl's deep inside of me.
And in love isn't all we could be.

But I'm not that girl (yet)
I'm waiting for a better net
one that doesn't require a detour
I'm too busy to let that her out,
She's shoved aside for that is the art of
Shy....

She's Shy.
But she wants to be the girl who holds the key to your heart
And she wants to waltz her way across the delicate arch
In love. Yes the girl wants to fall for you.
But I can't do all that she wants me to
And I say you don't really want me to.
But I still wanna be the girl.

Painted Valentine

He painted the sky for me today.
God took up his brush
He dipped it in a dark azure,
then lit the sky with brighter sunshine.
The clouds he arranged
with perfect whiteness,
but still let them linger
to play with sunbeams
and shadows.

A tree framed His painting for me.
It's bare branches reached
into the sunlit brushstrokes,
a stark contrast on this day of love.
It was then He sent my Valentine.

His name was Wind.
I knew it well.
He whispered by,
but did not tell
Then as I paused to admire my gift,
he surprised me with a chill embrace.
And then he left me with a kiss
and a chill down my spine
that I'll always miss.

The Trees

The trees grow tall in her forest,
tempting her sweetly with outstretched branches.
She'd never dared to climb them;
it was strictly forbidden
and decidedly fearsome.

As time flew by she grew fond of the oak tree.
He was taller then some and stronger than others.
She was fond of this strength and the grace in his branches.
He seemed to her a wonderful challenge to start with.
She placed a single hand on his welcoming bark,
but found it to smooth for inexperienced feet.

She grew wary of the tree from a few failed attempts.
Tired of failure, her rosy face fell to her knees.
She cried for awhile, but returned to her feet.
No other tree seemed surmountable
Searching through aspens, pines, and maple trees,
She found naught that could give
her the pleasure she sought.

She returns to her happy little cottage,
discouraged to see other treelings about.
Not one could she climb, but all around
She saw squirrels scaling some
and some nestled in others.

So much for that, she said with a sigh.
One day, when my legs are longer
and my hands grow stronger
I'll find a tree and
he'll be just right for me!

Chill Over Red Mountain

Another day dawns over a
red mountain face.
A chill is upon us,
the sun has turned away.
He travels in silence
as winter grasps her gentle throat.
The earth grows stilll;
all life retreats
into warm hideaways
and there await
another new day.

I Know

I know you're far away;
so far away I can't even
breathe you in.
I can't sit sideways to see
what mood you're in.
Sometimes I wonder, wander
Think around as I ponder
who you are
and what's too far.

Well, I know I don't keep you awake at night.
And I know that I am not your
favorite mistake.
And I think you might not yet consider
my pondering eyes,
yet somewhere deep inside
am I the one thing you can't hide?

I watch as they all join hands
and embrace
And I watch as he traces
the lines on her face.
Then I wonder, wander,
think around as I ponder
who you are
and what's too far.


I'll admit sometimes that I've doubted you,
and that sometimes I haven't even wanted you

Because I know I don't keep you awake
I know that I am not your favorite mistake
You might not consider my pondering eyes
Yet somewhere deep inside
Am I the one thing you can't hide?

So I'm thinking of you
Are you crying tonight?
I'm thinking of you,
has she broken your heart?
Though I'm not there
I hope
someday
I can help you mend it.

But you're so far away
I can't even breathe you in
Why can't I find you today?

The Fencepost

A fencepost on an empty street
It sits and waits while their fingers meet.
No one else ever leaned against it,
No one else ever made it cry
A wooden post left of the mail box-
Leave it there where all can see.

Sometimes a cat might scratch upon it
Once her mother weeded 'round it.
The days grew long and still it stood there,
A monument to that first touch.

A hallow pole replaced the fence post.
Just the other day, her father tore it down.
He raised there up a chain-link prison
In hopes that it might keep her in.
But that fence post found its way
Into the junkyard of her heart.

Sometimes a cat might scratch upon it
Once her mother weeded 'round it.
The days grew long and still it sat there,
A monument to that first pain.

A white washed fencepost re-erected
Not too far from the spangled banner.
He glanced into her clouded eyes
Within them he thought he caught a glimmer.
And they spoke for hours about dinner,
Before he caught her crimson lips.

Sometimes she thinks about that fencepost,
About her mom who weeded 'round it,
But that day she finally might discard it
Will make a sign to that new love.

Crush II

A friend and I parused
Through an aisle at the mart,
We both wanted sodas
In aisle seventeen.
Indecisive as always,
I paused at each one,
But I just could not choose,
And no soda chose me.

There are plenty to choose from,
She said with a sigh,
And I giggled quite briefly
And struggled ahead.
Some shelves full of Coke,
Pepsi, And Sprite,
But none of them really fit me
Quite right.

Now,
What finally caught my eye was a label:
An Orange Crush sitting at an odd angle.
I was offered a taste,
And I took one quite gladly,
But my time was soon spent,
He slipped away with my distraction.

Well months have now passed,
I return to the market.
Now forgetting my soda,
I sit in rows of strange neighbors.
I came for nothing but milk
And the necessities,
I glanced up to see him
In the midst of the sea.

I gasped and a turned.
How I could stil remember
That taste that I tasted!
When at last I was convinced,
I turned back
But he slipped away,
lost.

I still see it sometimes,
My sweet Orange Crush.
Maybe one day there might
Slide Orange Crush
To the tip of my tongue.