Piece of Peace

I started this after a church choir performance in the heart of the Christmas season. The first stanza is a verse of a song that we had performed that day.

Piece of Peace
Green and silver, red and gold
And a story born of old
Peace and love and hope abide
This Christmastide, this Christmastide

Choirs singing songs of praise
To our God, each voice we raise
Bringing Christmas joy to all
The young and poor, the big and small

Service ends, the choirs leave
Congregation may believe
So do we, for one moment
But soon enough we will forget

Go back to the choir room
Met with the sound of a vacuum,
Younger singers making noise,
And loud, pretentious choir boys

I hope we brightened someone's day
We are good at that they say
But you couldn't ever tell
From the way we talk and yell

If that's so, then is all lost
Once the exit door is crossed?
Somehow I do not think so
For somewhere inside I know

It's worth all that practice time
Worth each rhythm and every rhyme
For whatever small release
Comes from that short hour of peace

Frost

I started this quite a while ago, on a day when it was- you guessed it- frosty. At the time it was completely true, but I was busy and didn't finish it. I worry that the end, therefore, isn't as nice as the beginning, but that's up to you to judge

Frost
It never snows around these parts
Though we pray for it from our hearts
But it'd be easy to get lost
Within these forests full of frost

It's far too cold and far too bleak
For people to come out this week
So I alone may sit and swing
Free to do nearly anything

What a big deal a child makes
Of sugar coated frosted flakes
But frost alone, or flakes of snow
And no one dares outside to go

I love it, all pristine and clear
They're all afraid to come out here
But should they all choose to come out
Their noise and crowds would make me pout

Just sitting here is such a thrill
The world stays absolutely still
Because the frost has glued it all
How powerful, and yet how small

So many fear the solitude
But it brings me a perfect mood
Some joy and peace and almost pride
For finding what is just outside

A walk

I really love the idea of break. I woke up today, thought "oh no, it's Wednesday! I have to be up til noon!" and got dressed and ate breakfast in quite a hurry. Fortunately for me, it is actually Monday and I was able to go back to bed until 12:30, when I was so embarrassed at myself for sleeping so much that I forced myself to get up. I love break, though, because I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Of course I have some homework, but it's not too much and I honestly have not been procrastinating because when you know you can do whatever you want, sometimes editing a music essay or studying poetry for English seems fun (of course, I'm slightly biased towards the studying poetry thing...). Yesterday, I hung out with an old friend who currently lives 2,000 miles away- I met her at a mall that's 4 miles away from my house, but instead of taking the bus there, I walked with my dad. On a normal day, there's no way I would have had the time or motivation to do that, but it's really quite a nice thing to do. I love going on walks, it's freeing and it gives me time to think. Maybe that's what I love about all of break... I can just sit around and think.


A Walk
The window is open, though I don't know why
There's only a small patch of blue in the sky
And the air is so cold, coming in with the breeze
Off the shivering ground and the frostbitten trees

Papa asks me if I'd like to go walk
Is he crazy? I wonder, for I am in shock
That a sane human being would even conceive
Going out in this weather, it seems so naive

But daddy's not kidding and wants me to come
I pray my whole body does not become numb
As I put on two jackets and one winter coat
And put my mp3 and phone in a tote

We pass some bushes as we walk down the street
In August their blackberries were oh so sweet
I'd eat them as I walked to my driving class
Smiling and whistling as I would pass

When I was younger, I would call this "the woods"
And imagine old witches and thieves trading goods
I thought that old thicket of trees wouldn't end
And I'd talk to each bird as if he were my friend

We pass by a memorable church and I sigh
We went there a few times, my mother and I
I never learned just why she disapproved
Dad asks me a question and onward we move

There's the vet's office I like to avoid
It always seems to make my mother annoyed
A new set of bills or diet for the cat
When mom's annoyed, my sister's always a brat...

The middle school where my brother would have gone
If, at the last minute, he hadn't withdrawn
To go to that far away school, what a shame
Daddy points- men playing some confusing game

"Cricket" dad says- that I did not expect
But dad knows so much, I assume he's correct
We pass by a park that is vibrant and quaint
Like something Monet or Pissarro might paint

I want to sit there, although I'm not tired
Just because that small park makes me oh so inspired
But daddy keeps walking and so do I
I notice a little more blue in the sky

My zune plays Vanessa Carlton and I smile
I haven't listened to her in a while
Her music's so honest, so straight from the heart
This is what it means to truly create art

I used to beg to go to that big day care
But not once did mom allow me to go there
The dentist's office- oh it gives me the chills
And I never knew there were so many hills

We walk on a bridge where I drive frequently
I didn't know there were train tracks under me!
You miss so much when you are rushing through
In my own hometown, look what I never knew!

We get to the book store four miles from home
Daddy continues so I am alone
I've never liked bookstores, I go to the mall
I'll wait here two hours with no plans at all

My old friend arrives there eventually
But I've had a fine time just being me
Reflecting on people and places I've missed
But for a small while content just to exist

Success

People often ask me what I want to be when I grow up. I think I'm just at that age where it's the question to ask. That and "do you have your license?" Well the second one is a pretty straight answer, but the first one? I haven't the slightest notion. I know a lot about what I don't want to be, but crossing items off an infinite list of possibilities doesn't help me much.
We had guests over for Christmas and they were asking me my plans for life, so this is kind of my response to that

Success
They want me to want money
Then I'll have got it right
So I can be successful
And sleep smiling each night

But who defines "successful?"
And why should I please them?
Who makes guidelines for life that
Say what to do, and when?

I don't care how the others
May think or talk or sneer
I'll live by all my own rules
And make my own darn cheer

But how can I be content
With smiles all alone?
True joy is meant for sharing
Now laughing on my own

And it is ofen said that
The truest joy of all
Comes from brightening others
No matter big or small

So in my own self interest
I'll give up cash and fame
And live to make you happy
To win this "success" game

December 26th

Sorry it's been so long since I last wrote. My goal is still to write 31 poems in the month of December, although clearly I did not succeed at writing one per day. I had quite a nice Christmas and I hope you, the semi-imaginary reader, did too.

I wrote three poems last night, but I wasn't super inspired, so they're pretty random and not necessarily any good. Sometimes it takes a while to get back into these things... oh well

I thought of fabulous introductions to these while I was writing the poems, but now I have no idea... don't you hate it when that happens?

December 26th
If I could talk to him today,
What would our dear old Santa say?
After his annual day of stress
Upon that oft-allusioned sleigh?

I know the old man needs his rest,
But I doubt he would be impressed
By children tired of their gifts
Before they're even fully dressed

You spent six months begging for it
And it's perfect, you must admit
I'd bet on just a week or two
Before "it's just not the right fit"

A month or so and you'll be through
Because you yearn for something new
It's not your fault, for heaven's sake!
Just blame the wealth you're born into

And you may not live by the lake
Or lay out on the beach to bake
You're just an average family
Working hard for the dough you make

I hope that you've fooled somebody
With that rags-to-riches story
Perhaps you've even fooled yourselves
But it takes more to convince me

Well Santa overworks his elves
For toys into which each kid delves
But soon you'll call your lawyer friend
And sue about those North Pole shelves

For one small gift you'll condescend
In months when it's just not the trend
And try to send it back right quick
Though that would be a dreadful end

I cannot say I know Saint Nick
And now I'll bet he's used to it
But I doubt he feels very slick
On this December twenty six.

Periwinkle Skies

I really like this one
I don't like the conclusion, because I never do, but the poem is something I can appreciate. We're donne studying Robert Frost in English, but this one seems quite Frost-esque to me.
I didn't wear contacts to practice today and they ended up playing football for 45 minutes, which was really too bad because it would be very difficult to play a ball game with limited vision. While I waited for them to finish so I could run with a friend who was playing, I sat and "watched" and noticed things around me that I otherwise wouldn't have; the odd silhouettes of the trees on the deepening sky, the way birds moved overhead, and the gorgeous sunset. Not that I wouldn't have noticed these before, but I don't think I would have appreciated them nearly as much if I could have seen all the little parts that contributed. Sometimes it's nice to look at the big picture. A teacher at my school (though not one that I have) likes to talk about "getting caught up in minutia" and while details are very important in a lot of life, it's important to let yourself try to stand back and look at things. A day without contacts and clarity gave me the chance to do just that, and it's quite a relief.

Periwinkle Skies
My friend, I should apologize
For the poor status of my eyes
I cannot read that sign ahead
You must read it for me instead
Without contacts I cannot play
Your frisbee or football today
Alas! Your face, too, is unclear
I've misplaced my lenses, I fear

Yet I can see the midday skies
Still crystal clear, to my surprise
Your action scenes I cannot see
But grass and lakes are clear to me
Their vivid hues are beautiful
In great detail or as a whole
It's clear how much there is to find
Even if one is nearly blind

I watch a sparrow whilst it flies
Though I know not its shape nor size
It's just as graceful as it soars
To forests? Or to frothy shores?
I know now just what Monet saw
Color and movement, like Degas
Perhaps I can agree with them
Though all the others may condemn

It's no place for the rich and wise
Beneath the periwinkle skies
With so much in this world to love
Why bother too look up above?
But I know nothing better to
Spend this specific night to do
And why not, just once, give up fret
And sit and watch just one sunset?

I've lost all use of these old eyes
But I can sing you lullabies
Some songs that you will smile to hear
My voice, not sight, is crystal clear
There is no breeze, but quite a chill
The earth and I, we both sit still
And smile, and love the other one
Not minding that the day is done


I watch the moon begin to rise
Knowing I should say my good byes
But I could stay till morning came
And leaving now would be a shame
Perhaps those painters had it right
Vision is nothing in the night
And without details to look for
I love the scenery all the more

Strong

 I don't have too much to say about this one and I'm in a bit of a rush, but it's a little different from the rest because it's... strong, surprisingly enough. It's not about appreciation or being positive, it's about being strong. Yes, it is inspired by my life. No, I am not going through any sort of break up. No, it is not inspired by anyone who reads this blog.

 Strong
I'm sure I don't look strong to you
I'm young, I'm small, I'm feminine
I stress, I need, I cry--it's true
And yeah, I screw up now and then

Come cry to me, I'll sympathize
Since chances are that I've been there
Perhaps, like ma, I'll dry your eyes
And hold you close and smooth your hair

But listen, I am no weak girl
I won't do anything you need
Sit in your lap and be your pearl
I don't think I'm too hard to read

Somehow, though, you're just missing it
Can't understand that I am strong
This "friendship" thing just doesn't fit
And friend, it's time we both moved on

Well don't you understand at all?
That's it, we're done, I've hit the floor
I'm feminine and young and small
But I can't do this anymore

Goodbye, once-friend, I'll miss you too
But that patience is all I've got
And I'm relieved we're finally through
Will you regret it? I will not

Past

There is no news today. I sense it'll be an invisible week... but sometimes it's good to have weeks that are just "there." These are the days when I get my thinking done so that I'm prepared to go on autopilot when I need to, and trust me, next week I'll definitely need to. I sang for two hours today, outside of any choirs or formal reasons... I just needed to practice for everything and I did, for two full hours. These are the days I get my practicing done so that I'm prepared to perform very well when I need to, and trust me, with the Christmas season already here and concerts for 3 different choirs this month plus a solo competition in January, I'll definitely need to.
I took a trip today... to my middle school. I haven't been there since probably early 2008 and I'd missed it... well, sort of. Hopefully this poem does justice to my little visit.

Past
I went to an old school today, I've not been there in years
That life seems now so far away--I'm too old, it appears
The halls I once looked forward to, where I knew every face
It's odd to think of it as through, a truly changed place

The kids have so much energy--was I ever that small?
Old teachers try to talk to me, I can't relate at all
The sights and smells of that old spot are still familiar
But just nostalgia--I cannot imagine learning there

The kids I once wished to impress--I don't remember why
Perhaps because they were well dressed... Well they're as gone as I
And no one else cares anymore about our once-friendships
And three full years within those doors, with memories and secrets

I went to my old school today, hoping for times returned
Yet that life seems so far away for all I thought I'd learned
How awkward now, to think of how I wished it all would last
But life moves on, those days are gone, and now I'm glad they've passed

For Christmas

The second poem I wrote while sitting at the mall. No worries, though, this one's in English

For Christmas
"What would you like for Christmas, my dear?
Ask of me anything"
All that I'd like for Christmas, I fear,
Is what you cannot bring
A time every day to sit and think
And watch people going by
The courage to talk with anyone—
Deeply or just a "hi"
A friend who will listen and laugh and hug
Whenever I am in need
And someone each hour whose day I can make
So as to have done a good deed
To talk to amigos in Paris in Spain
Because it's been a while
And some spontaneity within each day—
That's sure to make me smile
The knowledge that somewhere in this wide world
Somebody cares for me
Acceptance by everyone of what I am
Just to let me be
A passion for whatever I may do
To make each moment glad
A hand to hold on my worse days
To wipe tears when I'm sad
"Well honey, I'd like to give you a gift
To bring your life some zest"
Great appreciation for all that I've got
That's certainly the best

Sentando, Mirando

Sorry for not writing... a lot...
It's been a busy weekend and I've had a ton to do this week, but the week was stressful and the weekend was quite the opposite. My friend had a birthday party today, and we went into Seattle and gave people free hugs. You have no idea how much a hug can do for someone until you go around giving them out for free, especially in a city as open as Seattle. I really enjoyed it, and it was a great experience as friends as well as a chance to make people's days. In any case, I was at a busy mall before my friends arrived, and I sat for an hour and just people-watched and thought about... whatever... because I could, because I had an hour. I wrote this little poem in the meantime and started another but didn't finish so perhaps I'll post it tomorrow
Unfortunately, this too is in spanish and will therefore be a bit difficult to read for those of you who... well... don't speak it :P

Sentando, Mirando
En esta silla—sentando, sentando
Yo veo la gente—mirando, mirando
A veces riendo, yo llevo sonrisa
Quzás esperando alguna sorpresa
Tengo una hora sin gente a ver,
Lugares a ir, ni cosas hacer
Pero estoy feliz mientras yo me siento
Y estoy segura del frio y viento

Waiting

Advent began a couple days ago. Of course, I didn't realize until mom pointed it out last night, but I was highly disappointed. Usually, there's no chance of me missing something so important to my holiday season, but when it started I was too busy appreciating Amiga's birthday and... Playing frisbee with the cross country team and... Learning Italian arias...
The thing is, advent has never really had a religious significance for me. To me, it's just another symbol that the holiday season has begun, with our big advent calendar in the hall and mini chocolate ones my dad's godmother used to give us each year. Nowadays, my mom scorns the way Christmas has been taken so out of its religious context and turned into a commercial holiday, and advent's significance as an excuse for chocolate is just another example of that, but I don't mind. We don't get chocolate anymore, but I like traditions, and I can appreciate a season of holiday wishes and sugar plum dreams, whether or not it has a religious context
Not that I don't celebrate the aspect of Christmas as a religious holiday, and I do think it's a bit silly when radio stations talk about "the true meaning of christmas" as spreading joy and love (as opposed to getting gifts) when really the true meaning is the birth of Christ and the rest is secondary, but I understand where the radio stations are coming from of course
I think I was going to write a poem about being too busy, but the Taylor Swift one should suffice for now
Last night, as I was studying for four different tests and trying to finish five different long-term assignments that I'd procrastinated on, I had a moment where I stopped working and just... Thought. I kind of do that a lot, which is probably why so much of my work gets put off to begin with.  In my somewhat random, not-so-positive, past-midnight state of mind, I realized just how much time I spend waiting, even if not directly in the form of sitting and doing nothing. Hopefully the poem will speak for itself on the rest...
Also, I want to know what you think of the "rhyme" scheme

Waiting
I'm waiting and waiting and waiting
For something--though I don't know what
Just waiting for this to be over
--whatever it is--to be done

You never would know just to watch me
In class or on runs or at home
I'm writing and running so quickly
As if hurrying to the unknown

And perhaps that is just what I'm doing
Just biding my time while I wait
While I wait for the great unexpected
Would I even know if it came?

When I walk to school it is freezing
And I rush while I wait for the warmth
But class starts and I wait for the next bell
Like impatience could make it seem short

I sit through consecutive lectures
In calculus, english, and gov
And stare at the clock all the while
Confused and just bored when they're tough

I look forward to something greater
But what's there to look forward to?
I know that tomorrow's no different
And I've nothing better to do

Perhaps, though, the hope is not in vain
If it can keep me satisfied
The thought that something might be better
Though I know not what, or what time

Sin Amiga

First Spanish poem! (First that you'll read anyway)
I've been really busy this week, which doesn't bode well for the rest of the holiday season because I just get more and more busy as it gets closer to Christmas, but I've been quite inspired. Sometime, I'll turn all that inspiration into real poetry, and then life will be... decent.
Quite a bit recently, I've realized how much I depend on friends. Some days I just need a hug, but sometimes I really need someone to listen to me for quite a while, without judging or getting bored or anything else. I found this poem in my spanish binder today and realized I hadn't posted it. I won't translate (Sorry... use an online translator if you're that curious?) but it's called "without a friend" and is just about the value of friendship, which applies to my life a ton right now as stress increases :P

Sin Amiga
Sin un trabajo, no estoy feliz
Me falta comida, ropa nueva, lujos
Siempre registrando, nunca encontrando,
Me siento frustrada, pero sobrevivo

Sin un novio, pues yo puedo vivir
Quizás estoy triste y quiero alguien
Tengo celos de chicas que los tienen
Quizás desesperada, yo sobrevivo

Sin música, ¡Ay, qué mala es la vida!
Me falta inspiración, alegría, consuelo
Me aburre la vida y odio el silencio,
Pero puedo cantar, y yo sobrevivo

Sin mi salud, tengo menos energía
Estoy llena de calor y después lleno de frío
Tengo mucho dolor, quiero vomitar
Aunque cansada, yo sobrevivo

Pero sin amiga, adiós, mundo bello
No tengo motivo vivir o reír
Dinero, novio, música, y salud
¿Qué son? Sin amiga me muero de alma.

Tránsito, the Traveler

If you have not read House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende, this will not make sense. My apologies. If you have, though, it should be interesting. In English last year (when I read it), our teacher gave us a creative assignment at the end of the semester. It was fairly simple and I can't remember all of the details, but we had to write something (I can't remember if it had to be a poem or not) about one of the characters that showed an in-depth understanding of the character. House of the Spirits spans a period of about 60 years and has quite a few characters who could be considered main characters, but as I'm sure to have mentioned earlier, I try to be a little original so I didn't do anyone who could be considered a main character at any point in the novel. I wrote a poem about the character Tránsito Soto, a prostitute who comes up quite a few times in the novel and ends up becoming rather successful and helping the Trueba family (the subject of the book) quite a bit at one point. Nonetheless, she can at no point in the novel be considered a main character, which is what I liked about her.

A couple friends asked me to post this one, so I will

Tránsito, the Traveler
Tránsito, the traveler
Soto, the thicket

Travel, the girl who changes much throughout her life
Travel, you move yourself by foot, peso, and pain
Travel, keep going though this job cuts like a knife
Travel, you’ll leave rather than get stuck in the chain

Thicket, untamed and still untamable are you
Thicket, they come to conquer you but you are strong
Thicket, you hide so much beyond your outer shell
Thicket, they see you as disgraceful but in truth it’s you they wrong

Travel, new scenery each year, each week, each hour
Travel, same vehicle through half a century
Travel, though female, your gender sustains your power
Travel, the woman that the rest aspire to be

Thicket, you started small, a couple dying seeds
Thicket, you grow until you reach immense success
Thicket, the poor girl works hard to fulfill her needs
Thicket, defy what’s there, grow tall and strong, progress

Poor girl, Chilean minds would scorn you with no thought
Poor girl, your gender, social class, disgraceful job
Woman, you thrive where all the weaker workers rot
Woman, you work, help, love, save lives, and never sob

Tránsito, the traveler
Soto, the thicket

Taylor Swift

I should explain.
I do not like Taylor Swift. I get that the personalities celebrities display in front of cameras are completely different from who they are, and I realize I'm nobody to judge anyone else's personality, especially if it is an intentional front (Not that only celebrities put up fronts... my goodness no). I just don't like her music. I'm not a huge fan of country, I don't like the way she sings, I don't like the message in her songs. I owe her a bit of an apology, though, because I also do not ~hate~ her, just her music bugs me, and perhaps I should not title this poem based on that fact. The other thing is that my sister loves Taylor Swift's music, which 1) means I automatically don't like it too much because I have this need to be different from my sister and 2) means that I hear it a lot. A lottttttttttttttttttttttttttt. Because she has speakers and I don't. Really, though, I just hear it a lot and I don't like it. It doesn't ruin my day, but it distracts me when I'm working (or trying to write a poem because... music in the background is already poetry and that makes it very difficult to think) and serves to worsen my mood if I'm having a bad day... which is kind of what this poem is about... kind of...

Taylor Swift
My sister's playing Taylor Swift
And I can't stand the noise
But I won't let it get to me
I'm cool and calm and poised

I have a test in calculus
To study for today
But Quotient Rule has me confused
Study though I may

Mom says I should take out the trash
And get the mail, and weed
"I'd love to, mom, but not right now"
"Oh honey, will you please?"

I have two new Italian songs
And one new Broadway tune
Plus choir pieces I should learn
Well, I'll get on that soon

And some kids in FPS club
Still cannot understand
I'll write them some curriculum
And teach it when I can

My friends are hanging out this week
And I hate saying no
But that's just why I'm overbooked
And hence I cannot go

I've got a gov project to do
And dad wants me to mop
Of course the speech I said I'd write—
No! Everybody stop!

I'd love to do each one of those
But all at once? That's it.
Too many pulls too many ways
And soon I'll have to quit

My sister's playing Taylor Swift
And I just cannot think
Where's the unfettered, smiling me?
For now, only in ink

The Moment

I won't use names on this blog, but I have a wonderful friend who I call "amiga," and will refer to her by that from here on out. Amiga cares a ton for a ton of different people, but she has trouble figuring out what she wants to do with her life. I guess all high schoolers do, but because she is such a good friend, I hear about it a lot from amiga. A few days ago she brought this up, and she was talking about the idea that "forever is now" because really, the "now" is what really existsWhile this poem doesn't deal with the philosophical idea that the past is gone and can never return, and that the future has not happened yet and therefore will not exist until the precise moment when it is the now (this is a bit scientific and I am... not... which is why I write poetry :P), it is inspired by the simple quote of forever being the now, and of course by amiga herself :)

The Moment
"I want it now!" The rich folk say
As all the others scorn their greed
But honestly, they've got a point
They know just what they want and need

Chipmunks spend the entire fall
Stocking up for winter's snow
But they're having no fun at all
And they've just let a season go

Running can bring me quite a rush
But oh! the training it requires!
Is it really worth all that pain
For seconds of fulfilled desires?

Perhaps there is no "overall"
"For me, it's been a happy year"
What matters, then, is always small
The moments and the nows, my dear

You cannot change your yesterdays
For they've already come and gone
Tomorrow is so far away
Not worth thought til today is done

"Goodbye forever! You'll be missed!"
They tell you, and perhaps it's true
But you'll be missed because of all
The minute, friendly things you do

Supposing you can't change the world
Or save a life, or rule the land
Then change a million people's nows
And change the world, you surely can

My Friend

My Friend
Do you remember me, my friend?
It seems so long ago
That I had to take leave, my friend
But I have missed you so

Do you remember how, my friend,
We used to laugh and play?
Could we laugh like that now, my friend?
Make memories for a day?

Could I show you a spot, my friend,
That I think you should see?
We could go there a lot, my friend
Hang out, just you and me

Could you show me a place, my friend,
You go when you feel bad?
A sunny, grassy space, my friend
I'll hold you when you're sad

You want to be good friends again
But how, you're just not sure?
Give me your ear and love me dear
Since that's what friends are for