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i lay beside you

place my hand on your nape

i press and move to your shoulder blades

your skin is as smooth as its color

going down your spine

placing my palm on the small of your back

i glide to your hip

move back up

feel the muscle of your arm

the touch of your flesh makes me sigh

makes me want more

your pleasurable exhale

warms my shoulder

tingles me

to satisfy you more

you turn your body to mine

and we sink

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This poem was published in the Sagebrush Literary Review Spring 2009 edition.

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the flag holds and squeezes her

until she can't breathe.

the symbol of hardships and dreams and prejudice

and other deep words;

what a tiring life it must be.

red and white and blue swallow her

as she weeps over the fantasy of the land of the free

weeps for the ones dead

the ones struggling for equality

the ones oppressed

the flag taunts her as it

strangles the arteries of her heart

the bombs bursting in air long ago---vanished.

forgotten.

her voice is drowned by the chief drum.

the flag teases and provokes that there is always

someday,

yet she continues to battle,

fighting the perilous fight.

October Forest

This is a poem that I wrote in the fall of 2008 and was published in the Sagebrush Literary Review Spring 2009 edition.

October Forest

Clear, crisp autumn morning.

The cold came in the night before

and the incumbents have already been prepared.

They are prepared every year.

The sunlight sparkling off the jade leaves,

the feathers of plants

is blanketed by fresh dew.

With every light breeze, they fly--

the dead ones lie on the earth

cracking and rustling with every step.

The ones that are still animate cling to themselves,

praying the wind doesn't take them away.

All the trees are huddled together

seemingly looking for warmth and comfort,

Their thick bodies and arms are unbothered,

too dense to feel the bite of cold,

even though they crowd next to each other

as if nature is embracing them like children.

The morning sun swiftly peeks its face

between the branches and leaves

seeing, wondering, hoping that

everyone is still there.

On the Road to the Sea - Charlotte Mew

I'm analyzing this poem for a class and I really like it. Thought I would share :]. (I tried to put the spacing, but it isn't posting it as such. Nothing much I can do about it.. oh well.)

On the Road to the Sea
by Charlotte Mew

We passed each other, turned and stopped for half an hour, then went our
way,
I who make other women smile did not make you--
But no man can move mountains in a day.
So this hard thing is yet to do.

But first I want your life:--before I die I want to see
The world that lies behind the strangeness of your eyes,
There is nothing gay or green there for my gathering, it may be,
Yet on brown fields there lies
A haunting purple bloom: is there not something in grey skies
And in grey sea?
I want what world there is behind your eyes.
I want your life and you will not give it me.

Now, if I look, I see you walking down the years,
Young, and through August fields--a face, a thought, a swinging dream
perched on a stile--;
I would have liked (so vile we are!) to have taught you tears
But most to have made you smile.

To-day is not enough or yesterday: God sees it all--
Your length on sunny lawns, the wakeful rainy nights--; tell me--(how
vain to ask), but it is not a question--just a call--;
Show me then, only your notched inches climbing up the garden wall,
I like you best when you were small.

Is this a stupid thing to say
Not having spent with you one day?
No matter; I shall never touch your hair
Or hear the little tick behind your breast,
Still it is there,
And as a flying bird
Brushes the branches where it may not rest
I have brushed your hand and heard
The child in you: I like that best.

So small, so dark, so sweet; and were you also then too grave and wise?
Always I think. Then put your far off little hand in mine;--Oh! let it
rest;
I will not stare into the early world beyond the opening eyes,
Or vex or scare what I love best.

But I want your life before mine bleeds away--
Here--not in heavenly hereafters--soon,--
I want your smile this very afternoon,
(The last of all my vices, pleasant people used to say,
I wanted and I sometimes got--the Moon!)

You know, at dusk, the last bird's cry,
And round the house the flap of the bat's low flight,
Trees that go black against the sky
And then--how soon the night!

No shadow of you on any bright road again,
And at the darkening end of this--what voice? whose kiss? As if you'd say!
It is not I who have walked with you, it will not be I who take away
Peace, peace, my little handful of the gleaner's grain
From your reaped fields at the shut of day.

Peace! Would you not rather die
Reeling,--with all the cannons at your ear?
So, at least, would I,
And I may not be here
To-night, to-morrow morning or next year.
Still I will let you keep your life a little while,
See dear?
I have made you smile.

Pet Peeve

One of my pet peeves: people who waste electricity.

One Part of American Society

NOTE: Here is another example of how America's society is about pleasure.

We all know that tobacco kills millions of people a year. We, the general public, know the dangers and health effects it can cause. However, at the same token, these two characteristics also belong to alcohol: both tobacco and alcohol are required to place a label on their products stating many of the health risks each comprise.

Here is the difference: television commercials. We all know about the Truth campaign. Truth puts out commercials about the "truth" on tobacco, nicotine, and the tobacco company. Television commercials about alcohol do not provide the general public with the health risks drinking alcohol entails, but rather everyone having a good time. The only thing they warn the public in alcohol commercials is the consequences of drunk driving, by placing "Please Drink Responsibly" in the last few seconds.

Why is this? Some may say it is because tobacco is "worse" than alcohol. However, they can both kill you, and I don't know of anything that is "worse" than death. It is because alcohol outputs more pleasure than tobacco does. What is so great about smoking a cigarette anyway? You don't get drunk. You don't act stupid with your friends. You don't build up confidence, because we all know that alcohol is liquid courage. Because pleasure is such a focused part of American society, the media would subconsciously (or maybe consciously, but let's just give them the benefit of the doubt) relay the overall belief that tobacco is "worse" than alcohol to the public. In addition, that is why we would rather drink than smoke: because there is more pleasure in drinking than in smoking.

This was another example of how America's society is about pleasure. There are many other aspects to this society that I have concluded with, and this particular one was about pleasure. Just an example. Had to write about it lol.

Quote of the Day

"Cake is good, but you cannot have sex with cake." -Fez, That 70s Show