Monthly Archives: March 2011

Thoughts that interrupt my study tyhme

I always do things the hard way. Even if it’s not my intention.

Does this make me a masochist?

It’s like subconsciously┬áI attract and like the trouble I get myself into.

Also, being able to relax has never come easy to me and about 8 times out of 10 those I trust the most betray me in some way or the other…. but I guess that’s human nature or something. I know I’ve done it a time or two. Blegh. Today’s been a weird day. I feel things shifting. I hate that. It makes my body ache.


Strangers words. Not mine.

“A Stranger came – a Stranger met –

They passed, and for aye-

Yet one, perchance, remember yet

Those moments passed away.

They woke a violin sweet and vain,

He never thought to dream again.


And you lone cloud, whose passing shade

Floats on the summer wind –

Soon from the sun-lit heaven shall fade,

And leave no trace behind –

Thus, in the hour that bade them part,

His memory vanished from her heart.


So be it still – the days are past

Of reckless, wild desire,

Yet must be cherish to the last,

and love – what all admire –

And bear, through sunshine and through storm,

That gentle heart, and lovely form.”


– Henry Howard Brownell


Deep sea love. (Deep. See love.)

It’s about floating with the fishes.

We see the waves but do they even know what waves are?
What kind of lives do they live……..the fish?
Would we trade our lives for theirs?

It’s about the clouds. They tell stories.
We see the stories but do they even know what stories are?

It’s about a glance, a stare, a touch.
It’s about the words?

Come on words. Have your way with my mouth.
Come out true. Lets mingle
I wish I could fly, or maybe not.
I wish I could make up my mind, or maybe not.

We all exist in this world, only not together………..

My heart


Pulling out the needle and thread again. Time to mend, time to mend.

Mend, mend, mend. Erase, erase, erase. That’s how my life is these days.

Oh thoughts. Oh, thoughts.

Your thoughts hide under the leaves where the bugs feast.

Enchanted forests of poppies where dreams are created and die as well.

I lay in the tall grass and realize that I’m the creator and the creation of myself and everything that surrounds my beautiful life.



Then and now.

Sam Cooke

Gavin Degraw

Maya Angelou

I’ve been reading poetry pretty much all day. Here’s a classic by Maya Angelou:

“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”