Tuesday, May 4, 2010


Around 2007 I see him again
Around 1994 my daddy and I sing and dance til the sun goes down and my brother is born
Around 1985 my mom finally met my dad over cheeseburgers and fries with friends
Around 1990 they decide to call me Rachael
Around 2000 I fly... and break my arm
Around 2004 my love of cats leads me to a cat shelter where I name a poor burned up kitten Prince Noodle
Around 2007 I turn 17 on Easter Sunday
Around 2005 I hide in Borders with Garrett and share my first kiss
Awkward and giggling

I am their namesake


Slightly strawberry blond hair
A small lady
Possessing a gentle soul
Making troubles seem silly
Brushing tears away
Mornings with toast
Smothered in butter
The scent of coffee
Thick with sugar and milk
Evenings of sweet laughter
and the scent of new found recipes
Beautiful costumes sewn with almost effortless care
Hours spent roaming the desert
Pictures of cactus blossoms
A mother and grandmother
Taken all too soon


Quiet humming
A soothing voice
Stories told reflecting a childhood long past
Simple chores made out to be games
With tales of loved ones gone or passed
Nursing a cup of hot tea
The never ending flow of words
Which teaches proper behavior in the life to come
Words seamlessly sewn together to draw in the mind
Caught up in the tight silver bun at the nape of her neck
Sparkling blue eyes filled with knowledge
She taught with patience
Through firm lessons and sly smiles
In more than name
Proven with her live love and actions

Monstrous Loving

They creep through the silent shadowed doorways of night
Through glowing orange eyes the love that she feels for her partner in crime is nearly tangible
When viewing his muted green eyes you can see the lies that he lives
She wonders if this feeling that makes her sick to her stomachs is a disease
Maybe it is
Love among monsters is tragically beautiful
When bats flutter through her is she dying?
She wonders
When her cold heart speeds?
She wonders
And as she wonders they continue
On through the darkness of a moonless night
The shadows in silent doorways
The screams left behind

Fear = Hatred


Eight legs
Eight eyes



Love Poems

I know too many love poems love songs loved ones
I don't know how to write my own
I won't pretend I do
But the love that I give and the love I receive I cannot give homage to
Were I shakespeare maybe then I could find the words
But alas we all know it
I am no great poet

Saturday, April 17, 2010


Poetry is emotion
It's that piece of you that you let out for all the world
It can say an infinite number of things or nothing at all
Poetry is beauty.
It is ugliness.
also death.
Poetry is love, hate, and everything in between.
Poetry is emotional.

Over the next week or so I'm going to be posting old poetry and such from my first ever creative writing class, I'd titled the anthology "Popsicle Poetry"