new year \\ new poems

starting off the new year with writing a poem about my deepest fear, and how to conquer it.  a swell beginning, me thinks.

Run For Your Life

My blonde hair and brown eyes
so wide.  Your hand reaching
out, your arm dissolving the

distance.  Between you and me,
I wasn’t scared of anything.  Even
when the dark engulfed me and

the monsters lingered in my closet,
I knew I could run to you.  Brave
is what you made me.  Now

dark seems peaceful as I lay here,
moonlight sneaking past the blinds.
My head against the pillow,

thoughts as tangled as my brown
mane.  I close my tired eyes and try
to remember that solitude is not

the same as loneliness.  Independence
is not shameful, a man does not make
you beautiful.  Brave soul, don’t forget

that you are never alone.  And when
you fear that you are, start running.
Don’t stop until you’re home.

a.s.

definitions

You are not a mark on the measuring tape encircling your waist,
Nor the size of your jeans that you are ashamed to reveal.
The flashing digits on the metallic platform beneath your bare feet
Do not define you.

You are not the tag in your shirt or the name that is printed on it,
Nor the sum of the bills that you used to purchase it.
The garments hanging neatly behind your closet door
Do not define you.

You are not the visible pores dotting your face,
Nor the tone of your skin that you are not comfortable in.
The reflections in the clouded mirror on your bathroom wall
Do not define you.

You are the songs you play over and over again
And the album you always go back to when your world is crumbling.
The lyrics written on your heart and the notes floating in your head
Are what define you.

You are the people you have listened to at 2 a.m.
And the fingerprints impressed upon the souls you have touched.
The hugs you give when you cannot find the words they need to hear
Are what define you.

You are the laughter that fills you up completely,
And the shining eyes flickering with dreams on the verge of unfolding.
The beautiful, miniscule details handpicked by your Creator
Are what define you.

I'm all over the place

Christmas lights dangle, twinkling softly,
Even though it’s only mid-September.
A disheveled bed is the centerpiece
Of this lovely catastrophe that is mine.
The sketch of a boy and his elephant
Hangs proudly above my pillow.
Purple Chucks are on display in the floor,
Laces askew and one falling atop the other.
Stacks of books and CDs everywhere,
Tiny towers proclaiming their importance.
Yesterday’s outfit is now a collapsed heap
That Mom will surely complain about. Oh well.
Bits and pieces of memories blanket the wall
To your right, an open scrapbook for all who enter.
Concert tickets, cards, newspaper cut-outs, quotes,
And photographs, each with a story all its own.
Opposite the twin-sized and its poster-headboard
Is a masterpiece, black and dusted with chalky remnants.
Lyrics flow across and around, a maze of thoughts
That comply with my own. I guess
I hoped to read the writing on the wall.

what i was made for

I wasn't made to piece together vibrant outfits that catch the eye,
Or focus cameras to take photographs.  I wasn't made to
Wear thick eyeliner or red lipstick or high heels that click as you walk.
I wasn't made to run miles at a time, or drink fancy coffees of all different flavors.
I don't carry a moleskin, sketch what I see, or enjoy only indie music.  I wasn't made
To read magazines and pose perfectly for pictures or be pretty.  I was made for
Running after little 2nd graders with curly hair named Apollo, and laughing
The good, deep kind of laugh that you feel in your soul.  I was made for dreaming of
Kenya and the people I will meet there and how I will hold them
In my heart.  I was made for 2-hour phone calls with Kathryn rambling on about
Relient K and our college plans that will soon be reality.  I was made for taking
Goofy pictures on Photobooth and schmoozing over Chris Hemsworth with Shan.  I was made for
Talking to Andrew about every topic under the moon just because.  I was made
To write letters to Chelsy and let her know she's not alone.  I was made to sing along
With Matt Thiessen as Life After Death (And Taxes) plays and claim him as my best friend
Even though he doesn't know my name.  I listen, I hug, I wipe tears, I tell stories.
I wasn't made to impress people;
I was made to love them.

beliefs

I believe in black checkers, Slinkys with kinks, jeans fraying at the bottom,
clothes from Goodwill, wishful thinking, the last two swigs in the milk jug,
off-brand soft drinks, bruised fruit, buggies at Wal-Mart that thump as you roll them,
clean-up on aisle seven, Bazooka stuck to the bottom of your hightop, beater cars,
dull razors, bent can-openers, flat tires, the boy sitting alone at lunch, kind words, bear hugs,
bad hair days, chivalrous men, pretty faces hidden behind frames, blue collars,
pennies found face-down, broken mirrors, garage sales, books with missing pages,
happy endings, scratched CDs, vinyls, Relient K lyrics, The Middle by Jimmy Eat World,
Jesus, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, second-string, kids picked last at recess.  Dark horses prevail; run with them.

Here's to my notebook

Here's to my notebook
Unimportant it seems
But it's where all of my thoughts
Are held together at the seams
There are memories of smiles
And pages with tear stains
There are doodles in margins
Quotes, lyrics, and refrains
Never titled dear diary
No greeting whatsoever
Just ramblings and stories
That will stay there forever
You'd find inklings of sadness
A few traces of wit
It's where mismatched puzzle pieces
Come together and fit
To some people it's gibberish
Making little to no sense
But I understand all of it
This poem, hence
Talks of dreams and of failures
Descriptions of him
Sometimes random, sometimes sloppy
Far from proper or prim
More than just pages
It's my dear, silent friend
That listens to my laughter
And helps me comprehend
So here's to my notebook
A novel still being written
Who needs a boy?
I've got you, and I'm smitten.

p.s. sorry for just up and disappearing for a week.  spring break was much needed, but it feels good to get back in the swing of things. 

in other news, i participated in one day without shoes on tuesday.  read my friend katie's post on it here. :)

A gust of wind

poetry and i are becoming close friends.  and i'm kind of liking it.

Life is like a gust of wind

That only some can feel

While there are some who spend it faking

There are some who make it real

They take note of every detail

Every breath and every smile

These people are the ones who tend

To make life worth the while

They embrace the sun with open arms

And let their hair flow in the breeze

They hear the song of laughter

And see the dancing of the trees

They are the barefoot runners

Racing in the sand

Ocean waves around their ankles

While holding someone's hand

They turn up the radio

To dance right in the lane

They live life with a mindset

That sometimes seems insane

Yes, their kind is very rare

The rarest of them all

While the world sighs and hangs its head

They keep on standing tall

You complain that you have little

Though they have less than you

You get angry in the bad times

And they help you see them through

The others, they don't feel that gust

Or all life has to give

So let your hair down; feel the wind

This is life; it's yours to live

p.s. my pandora's being nice to me today! souvenirs by swtichfoot, nothing to lose by mat kearny, i just haven't met you yet by michael bublé, and soul sister by train? yesssss. #pandoraforthewin!

poetic prayers: a collection of writings.

For L
Hey Daddy, it's me again
I wanna ask a favor -- for a friend
You know he's really dear to me
So keep him close so he can see
With Your eyes, beyond this world
Keep his heart from being twirled
Into tangled, confusing knots
Let him remember truth he's sought
He tries so hard; let him succeed
He'll follow You, so take the lead
Down the path You've laid for him
An eternal one that doesn't end
Keep him strong, keep him firm
Standing solid in Your Word
I'm asking You, I know you will
You love him more than I do still
Give Your guidance, You direct
When the roads all intersect
Keep him alert, always aware
Keep him close, this is my prayer.

For Z
My Jesus, You know he's in my heart
But even if we are apart
Let him stay so unashamed
Only glory in Your name
Let his eyes sparkle because he understands
You have a greater, Master plan
That goes beyond imagination
A different thought; Your own translation
I know I haven't prayed for him
But I'm glad I am 'cause now I'll send
A blessing of joy, hope, and peace
One of love and sweet release
Of freedom ringing loud and clear
Running like the wind, no fear
Give him strength and desperate desire
To know You more, to lift You higher
His laughter is the song of grace
You put that smile on his face
And I'm so glad you did, dear God
Glad he's not on a road that's broad
If it's Your will, show him my heart
And read our story from the start.

For A
A, oh how dear she is
She rarely takes, she mostly gives
But God I know that's she's in pain
Take it from her, make it plain
That miracles can still occur
That our hearts can still stir
When You work, hold nothing back
Give her everything she lacks
Strength to endure the awful ache
And assurance for her heart's sake
I love her, God, and so do You
So show us all that You can do
We know You can, we know You will
If we ask, if we are still
If we give You glory, praise
Give us hope and give us faith
But give it to A, most of all
Hold her up, don't let her fall.

Thank You.

For S
You told me to pray for him
I don't know why, but this I'll send
I know he's hurting -- I long to take it
Please, dear God, let him make it
Through this thunderstorm of life
Through the pain and through the strife
You love him and so do I
He's so strong; it's in his eyes
Keep him fighting the inward battle
Against the world, against the devil
You know the war's already won
That he's Your child, Your beloved son
That beast is just mad his life's forever
That they won't live in hell together
Don't let him whisper dreadful lies
Let him look to heaven, towards the skies
Can he see it?  Can he feel The Light?
Breaking through his darkest night
Save him, Father, when he asks
He has a future; he's not his past
He's forgiven, beautiful, new
One of Yours, the chosen few
God, he's made for more than this
Don't let him give way to death's kiss
Keep him standing tall and firm
Store in his heart, what he's learned
Don't let him be fooled by satan's show
He's worth more than he'll ever know.

love,
anna.

prayer. focus. i thought this was the perfect way to begin the new year.