Ticks and ticks

I couldn't help but to notice today, when my head felt heavier than normal, rested in the palm of my left hand, that there was a soft ticking from my watch that reminded me of the time I used to share a bedroom with my grandmother back in my middle school days and our separate twin beds were on either sides of the room. A baby grandfather clock sat on top of the dresser, its reserved ticks shy within the glass dome. Only early in the morning would I hear the ticking, when all was quiet and she had not yet waken me to go down the stairs and make pancakes together.  

On Hurdles

There's this game I like to play, its called QWOP (you can play it here). You have to try to move the runner's muscles with the keyboard letters 'Q' 'W' 'O' 'P' to make him run and the race is a 100m sprint. It's pretty difficult to move him and his body contorts in what seems like very uncomfortable ways. Someone tells me that there will be hurdles somewhere not too far down that road. Me, I'm struggling just getting past the 5m mark so I know that when I reach the hurdle I'll probably kick up my feet too high, stumble backwards and gash my head open. But I'll still be really happy that I made it that far. 

Paper Crane

Paper Crane

I didn’t even cry

I didn’t even cry

when you stepped your foot down on me

this time you did so well

flattened me

an old piece of gum 
turned to black 
on the sole of your sperry-topsiders

No, It didn’t hurt much.

Though, my creases

you’ve ironed them to the ground.

Your weight just overbearing—

my heart I’ve been protecting

has now been squashed.

My wings can no longer move

and my neck, you’ve turned into

ugly crooked shapes.

You’ve undone me alright

and my favorite pieces

you’ve worn their edges soft.

No paper doll am I.

Please take notice where you’ve put me

Pick me up and fold me

once, twice, five and six.

You’re really good, you know

all the steps by heart.

Voilá! You’ve made me functional again

my wings can flap my belly puffs out proud

for you and your table top.

You give me a head tilt and slight smile

prop me back up there where I belong

beside my friends Kate, Robbin and Sam..

Untitled

This is one of my favorite Ingrid Michaelson songs and the first one I learned to play. She has a new CD coming out!!! I Can't wait! but in the meantime, I shall listen to her many other cds. 

Old Suitcases

     


I found this on AdelynSTONE's Blog: Redecorating by repurposing (Amazing!)
I needed to share this.

Sky is womb, she's the moon

Video blog entry I guess. (The audio is very soft--might need earbuds to hear)
This is a song by Bon Iver called Flume. Its got great lyrics :)


I am my mother's only one
It's enough
I wear my garment so it shows
Now you know

Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon

I am my mother on the wall, 
with us all
I move in water, shore to shore;
Nothing's more

Only love is all maroon
Lapping lakes like leary loons
Leaving rope burns -- Reddish ruse

Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon

//Bon Iver

Empty House

 

 E m p t y   H o u s e

//Priscilla Ahn

A Poem from a couple of months ago

Dirty dishes

I hear the engines roaring downstairs.

They do every now and again.

The stale air lifts the smell of gasoline

through these shy windows—the Burks, they must be off again.

I swirl the last of my cereal into the sea of sugary milk

a new addition to my pile of dirty dishes 

and coffee-laced mugs.

The room seems small now       and rather grey

The couches,

dusty old things. Their color faded, fuzz.

If I wanted to I could probably dig up a couple of things;

knick-knacks and photo frames,     

a crumpled up tissue or two.

But I’d rather just look out at the streets.

The women with their barking dogs and helpless babes,

and the occasional jeep pulling into the raucous garage.

If I wanted to, I could go upstairs and

rest these blank eyes,

but I fear there would be no dream awaiting me.

So all I can do is sit here at this tea stained table

and remember how you hated when I didn’t do the dishes.