Poetry

I've been on a poetry kick lately. It began with a poetry reading a...month?....ago Wait, wait, wait. It actually began when that one time my mom told me to write poetry and I put those two poems up on here. From there I began sharing my words with a few friends, whose enthusiasm sparked my own and whose compliments gave me hope for success. Then there was the poetry reading, and finally a friend who writes more often than I do, and probably about cooler things.

I want to share some videos by poets who blow me away. Their words and their performances are amazing and I love what they do and who they are and just everything about these poems. Enjoy!

Also, check out my friend Dave's blog here

The Most Amazing Slam Poet

by Peter Nevland

Love Poem
by Rudy Francisco

My Honest Poem
by Rudy Francisco

Ick

Ick
It's that feeling in my gut
The bitter taste in my mouth
The rank smell in my nose
The white noise in my head
This foreboding of something unwanted
coming towards me
It's that worry that I've misplaced something
the worry that I've missed the picture
that I've been blinded to the fault
of what really is
and not what I want to see.
It festers and grows
ravenous and insatiable,
eating out my insides,
seeking out that sliver of peace
I hold within me.
Unsure of how to face it
I lie here waiting for the light to come
and show me what I could not see before.
Or maybe what I would not
nor wanted to
see.

The After Effects

Remember that really fun mocktail birthday party? Well this is what your hair looks like after having it curled, teased, put up so beautifully by an awesome friend, and then after you run around looking pretty for 3 hours go dancing for another two, followed by hot cocoa at 7-11, and then youtube videos snuggled up on the couch until *cough 2am *cough:

Just another Friday night in the college life of my friends and me. Was the 'fro worth it? You bet, I had great hair alllllll the next day on Saturday :)

Mocktail Birthday Party

Mocktail Party- a reason to dress up fancy and drink sparkling cider and eat key lime pie, yep key lime pie

Oh and to use our fancy, cool cameras to take awesome photos...

Levi in the wonderful armchair that graces their living room along with the wonderful record player that was very much in use on this memorable evening

The birthday boy, Morgan, looking dapper as always

The beautiful Jamie and me bonding over pina colada drinks and all too similar past experiences

Oh Sam, looking right at home

The adorable couple JJ and Nicole; adore and respect the heck out of these two!

Kali and a new friend Tiffany suddenly realizing they've met before...in Seattle?

Laura and Ryley's wife being camera shy, but making a great photo with all those wonderful colors

Cake pops!

Never fails that these boys always get photos of me either in mid-sentence or eating something

Yes, the snake was rented as well

Don't forget the other cute couple- Jamie and Morgan

Yes this was a fixture on the coffee table. Yes you can rent, rent! animals from the Bean Museum on BYU campus, so of course the boys needed a lion head

Ryley

It took us five tries to get a "serious photo" (be like pioneers everyone!), Nicole is still about to laugh but we finally managed one!

photography by Max Daines

It's a "big sweatshirt" kind of day

It has been a miracle that I haven't been sick yet this semester, especially since there were a number of weeks with late nights and not the greatest nutrition, but I survived thus far. Until last week. Last week may possibly have been the week sent from the devil's spawn in hopes of thwarting my all existence into total chaos. It is my absolute belief that college professors have a meeting before school begins, before the syllabi are printed off, before room assignments are even made, where they decide which week they want to make every student absolutely suffer (besides finals week of course). They must chuckle quietly to themselves as they parry back and forth trying to get all of their midterms to fall into the same week too. It is a murderous business that they bandy with.

And so last week consisted of a test in my Family History class, an exam in British Literary History (which was no small feat- you try memorizing which Romantic poet said what in which poem and why on earth why!), on top of which we also had a 5-page paper due in the same class, plus another paper due in Creative Writing (which may be the class I work my hardest in and try my best in), and don't forget the take-home exam that was due in my Mission Prep class. My "aha" moment came last week on Saturday around 4pm when I had that 5-pager due at 6pm and I had yet to begin it. I realized there was no way I would finish it by staying at home, so I trudged up to campus, locked myself in at work (great place to study, no distractions with everyone coming in and out like at the library) and wrote straight for an hour and a half, wherein I finished the paper and ran upstairs to drop off. That was my "aha" moment when I remembered "Oh yeah, this is why I chose English" :)

Once the stress finally died down of that wonderfully hellatious week I guess my body decided to break down too. No more need to force myself to stay healthy and active. Now here I am on a beautiful fall Tuesday morning with gunk in my nose and a scratchy throat. The body aches are starting to set in too, but I am pretending that I do not feel them, if I do they just might actually become real and begin to take over my already viciously exhausted body. It is a sorry state of denial, but oft times believing you are sick is the only reason why you truly are. So I am telling myself it is only a little cold, something trifle and easily taken care of with insubordinate amounts of water, orange juice, lots of vitamin-C and a ton of Emergen-C. I should probably go buy some of all that then, hmmm...I've only got water at home...

And so this beautifully treacherous fall day was begun with pulling out my "sick" outfit- the biggest, old-school style Brigham Young University sweatshirt I could possibly own. It has survived five winters of Utah cold, one semester of a sinus infection and tonsilitus, a Christmas with a cold so bad that I had to take horse-sized pills of anitbiotics (so big I had to cut them in half to swallow), several runny noses, a number of despondent days after break ups, and a great amount of lazy days watching movies and procrastinating the need-to-be-done homework.

Yep, it's a "big sweatshirt" kind of day

Sleep

I don't sleep well anymore; if at all. The nights are hot in our AC-less home. Mosquitos creep through my screen-less window invading my slumber with obnoxious buzzing in my ear. I wake up with countless red spots. Both from them and spiders that find their way in between my covers. My blankets are usually in the most absurd, tangled mess about my legs. Pillows crammed in between sheets or tossed onto the floor. My dreams leave me with a sick feeling in my stomach and my head throbs from the tossing and turning and endless array of thoughts that pervade my already exhausted brain.

Waking up is not so much a chore as it is a lunge from a world of nightmarish fog into a world of walking pandemonium. I spend my days wanting nothing but rest. To lie down; to collapse into that cocoon of peace and serenity. But when night does finally fall and my mind realizes the lateness of the hour I find myself begrudging the task ahead. It's worse than a task, it's that attic in every house that everyone avoids because cleaning it out would only create a larger mess. I sit at my desk condemning my bed with hateful stares. He, who should be a friend, has become my enemy in my search for tranquility.

Once I can no longer find anything with which to distract myself, I crawl up onto my mattress and feel it bite back. Determined to fight against my aching body and tortured soul, he provides no warmth or comfort. When I finally nestle down in it is only under deceptive terms. He laughs a wicked cackle and then shifts just so that my muscles lose their relaxed setting and I'm thrown back into a rolling mess of blankets and frustrating mind games.

I fear going to sleep. I don't want to know what cursed nightmares my mind has in store for me. What masquerading dreams it will weave. Once upon a time I had to listen to music every night to help me sleep and it is suddenly as if those wretched days have returned. I try to fall asleep to those soothing notes again, but constantly wake up fearing the sound is too loud or in annoyance to go slam it off.

My mind and heart wage an epic battle within my soul and my ability for comprehension is almost obliterated. I walk as if in a state of constant war within my body. I don't understand it. I cannot understand it. In the end though, I feel as if I don't want to understand it. I pray this time will pass and things will measure themselves out and smooth away. But what denial is that. What grave misunderstanding do I hold in my hands. Ignoring it makes it bigger. Pushing it aside makes it stronger. Leaving it alone makes it wiser.

But what is it? What starves me from sleep?

I know these people

And I like their music. They are just a fun band to go listen and jam to. And of course the most talented people show up to play at their open mic nights at their home, christened the Avocottage.