Monday, January 26, 2009

World Most Evile

This poem came from two inspirations:
Firstly, one of my all time favorite poems by one of my all time favorite poets - "The Hollow Men" by T.S Eliot.
Secondly, a fictional book mentioned in possibly my favorite fictional book of all time - "Secrets of the Darkest Art" in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows.

“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”
World Powers and War
Do not comprise this Earth.
A cry from the Hopeless
Sparks a fight.
An utter from the mouth of Poverty
Reeks havoc.
People of Darkness.
Nations of Sin.
What was created for Perfection
Has not one heart of good to claim.
Treachery, Scandal, Guilt and Shame.
Anger, Rage, Sorrow and Pain.
They creep over the globe like rampant vines,
Eager to choke out the light.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Identity Crisis

You can see my face,
You can touch my body,
You can hear my words –

But you don’t know me.

You can watch me as I cry,
You can feel my anger,
You can listen to me scream –

But you don’t understand me.

How can you get me?
When I don’t even get myself…


Touch me.
Hold me.
Burn me.
Break me.
I need to know you’re here, you’re there, you’re everywhere.
My love for you blinds me to your love for me.
Hurt you.
Leave you.
Loathe you.
Love you.

Kiss My Heart

You hold my stare,
And catch my breath.
Your hand slowly strays to know my hair.
I touch your knee, as you lean in.
Your lips on my neck;
Softly, Gently.

((How can I tell you about how you make me feel?
Your affection is selfless and sincere.
You never take, but always give.
Every kiss is like our first;
Always special, always true, always you.))

Your strong arms around me, pulling me in –
Pressed against you, I feel so small.
My eyes close when our lips meet;
Softer still, Gently yet.
I open my eyes and you’re staring at me.
My smile breaks our connection,
But your stare deepens our bond.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Don't Ever Be Ashamed

I wrote this sonnet during Spirit Week of my senior year after I borrowed some clothes from a family friend who is in the Marines. The day was "Army Day" and Andrew let me wear one his jackets and a hat; as I walked the halls that day, I felt so proud to be representing the men and women of the Armed Forces of this great nation, and everything they have fought and sacrificed for. Patriotism is not a shameful thing; people are fighting for freedom and justice on a worldwide level... the least we can do is support them.

Ev'ry sunrise you see could be your last,
Yet fear cannot find a home in your heart.
And back at home your family lives aghast
That you could die while you are still apart.
You defend our justice and liberty
And are willing to pay with your own life;
You sacrifice so that I can be free,
And you do it despite hardship and strife.
How can I thank you for all that you do?
A simple word is not nearly enough.
You're a Soldier of the Red, White and Blue
An American - built Strong, Brave and Tough.
Your service is honorable and true,
Worthy of respect and reverence too.
Soldiers of the Armed Forces, I salute you.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Rite of Passage

Why must you always tell me what to do?
How many times have I resisted you
And your stupid, pointless guidelines and rules?
Will you not learn? I won’t listen to fools!

You think you know what’s best for my life.
But clearly you don’t – just look at the strife
That we each hold the other to blame for…
This control is done. I want it no more.

And now that I am a legal adult,
I will object to your ageist assault.
I will no longer shut up and agree
With your petty expectations of me.

But now I have a voice and chance to speak
My own opinions and they are not weak.
So be forewarned of my anger and rage,
Because these bars won’t keep me in your cage.

You crushed the unique person that I was,
But you won’t keep me on the ground because
I don’t need you to know that I’m okay;
I am fine, no matter what you may say

I am just Shelby, and that is enough.
I like it this way; I’m calling your bluff
That to be “cool” people should be like you,
Because they don’t, and won’t, when I am through.

So thanks a lot, World, you really fucked me.
But I’m back with a vengeance…
Hope you’re ready.

A Cry from the Hopeless

My physical self is tired and worn,
My body - it yearns for comfort and rest.
I seek to sleep until the light of morn
Shines and wakes me from my slumbering quest.
My mind is so sick of thinking all day
For my thoughts are troubling and restless.
I long for a place for my head to lay
For a needed time of quiet recess.
My heart is broken from sorrow and pain.
My chest is heavy and aching with fears.
The sky of my heart is pouring down rain
That falls down my cheeks as cold, salty tears.
This is the last cry of one who needs aid,
Before my soul, into the dark, shall fade.

Origin of Love

I came from love, and entered into love;
Between husband and wife, between parent and child.
I caused the shift
From one-on-one to zone defense.
I am from 3022 Bard Ave.
It was the little, blue house with dark blue shutters and deep green ivy –
Creeping up the vinyl siding and covering the red brick –
With two great Oaks that looked like men, my guardians through the night.
I am from Barbies with mo-hawk hair and togas made from scraps of material;
American Girl Dolls and the original Polly Pockets for hours on end.
I am from a white, wicker basket filled with dress-ups –
Heinous representations of late eighties and early nineties weddings.
I am from a plastic Playskool kitchen and giant skyscrapers of MarbleWorks.
I am from summers spent at Kindleberger Park –
Watching and playing, cheering and eating
Concession stand hot dogs with tangy ketchup and zesty mustard, pungent onions;
Cold, chocolate malt cups that melted faster than you could eat it with the flat, wooden spoon.
I am from Primary Chapel at Calvary Bible Church with joyful teachers in denim jumpers and fluffy hair;
Awana Cubbies wearing blue vests and Sparks in the red.
I am from Fred and Julie –
From hard work and great food, from silly games and a listening ear, from big hugs and warm kisses.
I am from Millie and Joe –
Stern and loving, bickering and prejudice, unbelievable work ethic and familial pride.
I am from Shirley and Dave –
An angel and a comic, generous and available, thoughtful and true.
I am from Mrs. Atkins –
Her scary seized up arthritic hands and unforgiving eyebrows, but also her passion for teaching, for God, for phonics… for me.
I am from Drue –
His sensitivity towards weakness, his fierce loyalty, his lust for competition.
I am from Carly –
Her need for attention, her gift of writing, her intellect and insight.
I am from Taylor –
His patience, his crazy quirks, his unwavering backbone of faith.
I am from the Igreja Biblica Baptista Esperanca –
From a mighty God, an omnipotent and omnipresent Father,
A family which far extends my blood,
A hope for eternal life.
I came from love.
I entered love.
I will return to love.