Realization

Everything in my life is centered around lists. There seems no greater feeling than crossing off a lingering item on one of my many lists. I see no shame in this habit, except for the fact that I realized it's not only little tasks that I wish not to forget, it leaks into the way I live. I have these checkpoints set up in my mind on how I want my life to work. I have to finish college, get a job, get an internship, get married, ect.... it's never ending. This cyclical process, or maybe more linear, does give me something to look forward to, however it also damages the excitement in living. I never seem to be living mentally in the present. The present is just a task I need to fufill in order to move on to another task, or memory, or moment. I never allow myself to fully engage in the present moment. All these pretty colored post-it notes are invading my life and I need to claim it back! I must make the promise to myself to not worry and dwell on the future, but to take part in what is before my eyes. I need to live and love and linger in the moment.

Stop Pretending You're a Fisherman

I can feel the current rush
cold and alive next to my body
The colors down here are so alien
amazing, undescribable
My pores open and accept the floating
and weightless power
My lungs can take a break
I am free and alive
alone and ready to venture
and then,
I feel a tug
a harsh pull
a painful tear at my skin
The scenery begins to spin backwards
I am in reverse
I am captured
no longer free
Your painful and repeditive hook
is back
either I fight
or you win
either way, this is messy
leave me alone
to swim in this serene place
and you can go hook someone
else
please?

Into The Hands of Mrs. Grass

I will keep braiding my hair
In three flawless sections
Until my innocence
My childhood existence
Floods back
Until I am embraced by the warm hands of Mrs. Grass
And igloos
And forest forts
Lined with one layer thick of bricks
And prank-phone calls
And chasing the geese down the beach
Out of breath
Gasping for air
Gasping for the future
But now all I want is my blonde hair
And crooked teeth
And big blue eyes
Taking in everything with eagerness
Ready to grow up
Now all I want is my miniature hands
With fingers I had to grow into
And toes all dirty from never wearing shoes
Gravel and dirt under my nails
Chicken-pox
And bubble baths
With my plastic Noah’s Arc
Floating and tumbling in the waves of foam
Hand in hand with my mother
Creating music with a spoon
With underwear on my head
And a big feather
With a heart ready for anybody
And everybody
Creativity spilling out my naïve head
All around
Creating pools of imagination which reached my ankles
Now all I want is to drown in that pool
Let it rinse my aging mind
Refresh it
Give it hope again
And love
And a youthful spirit
So let’s go back in time
Let’s just keep braiding my hair
Tighter and tighter
In three flawless sections

Dreamland

I met them all in dreamland
A foggy town
Sometimes colorful
But always perfectly clear
Always startling
Awake in a panic
Never able to fall back
But their words
Their voices
True to tone
Always ringing in my ears
Silk curtains
Iced tea
It was brown
Rusting jewelry
beaded dreamcatcher
roasting fire
heavy eyes
And seeing them
Meeting them
Makes everything better
Makes everything real
Even though it’s far from
But I’ll take what I can get
I’ll take dreamland.