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