childish immortalitywe're so ocean weary -childish immortality by herbodyismycoffin
salt jeweled hair,
no anchors to plant.
i'll be plucking sand
from between my toes
we roll the windows down
in our cars and homes
to let the neighbors in,
to let the smoke out.
and by the way our
shoes slap the asphalt,
humidity stalling sore ankles,
you'd think we cause heart attacks.
but we'll never tell you
we're running from ourselves.
american dreamMy father was spoon-fed
the American Dream,
chin dripping Old Glory,
from the day he was born.
He regurgitates lessons
from past generations
about how fortunate we are here,
in the land of opportunity, dreams,
A bug immigrant grandparents caught
in the wake of wars and poverty
that soon infected their children.
That later blinded my father.
My mother - an immigrant
with anger in her veins and
the truth in her gut -
never got bit.
She saw through the lies,
the puppets on strings,
fighting them with words and expressions.
She pleads the first.
And for years we have tried
to remove the veil from his eyes
and awaken his senses.
He never sees.
He never sees how
opportunity turned to debt
dreams are in the forms of welfare checks
freedom has never been for the masses.
There is no more opportunity
when jobs cannot be created
and forty-somethings return to their parents.
There's no room for dreams
when money must be made
and the bills ar
I AmI am a genuine girl without regret
I wonder when my destiny was set
I hear only with my right ear
I see a family with financial fear
I want need to solve this horrendous debt
I am a genuine girl without regret
I pretend as if I do not know
I feel the dark hatred flow
I touch the smooth pawns of chess
I worry because it is my business
I cry with silence when I am upset
I am a genuine girl without regret
I understand there is a way of life
I say dance to your own drum and fife
I dream of eating strawberries
I try to create loving memories
And I hope I will not forget
Because I am a genuine girl without regret
tagged by cristinewakesuphappy."You can tell a lot about a person by what they write, but there are lots of other ways to get an idea of who they are. What they wear; what they read; what their room looks like; what posters they hang on their walls; what they keep in their bedside drawer. If you're like me, bored with answering the same questions, then feel free to jump in and show your watchers who you are in a different way. "
What's the story behind it?
Post a selfie.
Post a photo of your bed.
Post a photo of your bookshelf.
Post a photo of one of your more unusual possessions.
Post a photo of a favorite accessory you love to wear.
Post a photo of something you've had since childhood.
Post a photo of your pet(s).
Post a photo of your neighborhood.
Post a photo of your closet.
Post a photo of your shoes.
a short description after each photo would be sweet.
I love music. I write. I draw. I read. I breathe. I eat. I drink. I sleep (sometimes).
Yeah... so that's me in a nutshell.
Radiohead (favorite band), Arcade Fire, The National, Andrew Bird, Elliot Smith, Relient K, Regina Spektor, Coldplay, Sufjan Stevens,Bon Iver, Sigur Ros, Explosions in the Sky, Max Richter, Neutral Milk Hotel, Bright Eyes, TV on the Radio, Daughter...
this list goes on...and continues to grow exponentially
Whales drifted passed the window. Big, live, water planes in the deep and wide, wet and quiet sky. They glided by -- large saucer eyes watching, monstrous tails propelling. The whole dry world had sunk into the light-filtered blue. The classroom filled to the brim with salty water; air bubbles rushed back to where they belonged, back to the other side. She lay on the desks, eyes closed, arms crossed and hugging, alone save for the powerful beasts outside the window. What a vision beyond where she rested. If only she could press her hand through the barrier, through the glass…
Wake… they rumbled.
I want to, she whispered, her lips moving slightly.
Angie, wake up!
She took a deep breath as if resurfacing. Her eyes shot open.
“Ms. Tally was giving you the eye again.”
“Hmm…” Angie’s eyelids drooped down to half-mass. Johnny shook his head and pushed back into his seat.
Ms. Tally droned on about integrals while slowly drawing mathematical symbols in chalk with an age-spotted hand. No one knew whether her name inspired her interest in math or if it was only a coincidence. Regardless, it was clear the answer would not make her teaching any more engaging.
After the bell rang, Angie headed to her locker. She swung the door open and pulled out a notebook for English and History.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, zombie.”
“Shut up, Johnny.”
“You forget to take your meds, sleeping beauty.”
Angie slammed her locker and stared Johnny dead in the face.
“Well which is it, asshole? The walking dead or princess?”
He rubbed his chin, feigning deep thought.
“Maybe next time I’ll kiss you awake, princess.” He puckered his lips and made kissing noises.
“Fuck you.” She smirked and walked passed him, toward the classroom.
They had been friends since elementary school. She saved him from the cruelty of kids. In fourth grade he let his hair grow to flowing. Long blond hair and big, bright blue eyes. He was a beautiful little boy. Too beautiful. The kids had cornered him one day on the playground. One boy with short-cropped hair had a pair of scissors; Angie saw him sneak them from the craft table. She had considered alerting the teacher, but for the teasing to stop once and for all, she knew it had to be handled out in the yard. Kids had slowly gathered around little Johnny huddled on the ground, and short-cropped hair boy looming over him, scissors out and flashing angrily in the sun. After some taunting, the boy reached for Johnny with his free hand. Angie grabbed him by the wrist, “leave him alone” she had said evenly, cold. The boy straightened himself to his full height, his eyes level with fourth-grade Angie’s nose. He puffed up his chest and demanded a reason why. All those weeks of eavesdropping on her mother’s conversations had been material for creating her secret weapon. William plays with dolls? You mean like action-figures? Barbie dolls? Where does he…Ohhh right., Sara. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Cynthia… A weapon that required no violence but would leave the boy equally devastated, if not more so. She leaned in to whisper in Will’s ear. His eyes widened and his hands loosed at his sides, dropping the scissors; they didn’t make a sound as they landed in the grass. Johnny peeked over his arm, he had held up in defense. Angie and he locked eyes. From then on it was dynamic duo, two peas in a pod, best friends forever.
Ever since the diagnosis, their roles in the friendship had switched. Johnny was now the protective sibling. The enemy no longer loomed with scissors nor surrendered by blackmail. The cruel child hovered more like a dark cloud, untouchable in the sky. There were no secrets to lessen the shadow it cast. This cruel kid kept her drowsy, kept her life unpredictable in the worse way. But Johnny did his comedic best to keep the lights on, to keep her encouraged.
“You never answered me, Ang.” Johnny followed her down the hall and catching up to her, draped an arm over her shoulder.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Angie, come on.” He pulled her to a stop and turned her to face him.
“What?” She shrugged. “I’m tired-“
“Well, duh. That’s what happens when you don’t take your medication.”
Angie punched him in the arm. “Will you let me finish!” He winced with a smirk and rubbed his arm.
“I’m tired of being awake, forced awake. Sometimes it’s nice to embrace it, you know? Sometimes it feels like a gift instead of a curse. Johnny, I get these dreams. They are so…vivid. I enter into a whole other world. A better world.”
“Hey, what kind of world is better without me in it?” He whined with a puppy dog pout.
She chuckled. “Okay, not better. Different. Not quite as dull. Does that make sense?”
He nodded. “I get it. I really do.” He ran a hand through his long blond hair and with empathetic, ocean blue eyes woke her. “We’re destined to be different, aren’t we sleeping beauty?”
Her eyes filled to the brim, the world sunk into quivering tears. She pulled Johnny into a tight hug and he squeezed her close.