Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Her glasses-Preview!

I'm working on something that will take me a LONG time to write.
Here a tid-bit :)

Her glasses are fragile,
She is fragile,
Built of sowing needles and sweaters,
and the feathers found inside her favorite pillow,
She is the 8th natural wonder of the world.
Mostly constructed of tea, and mugs,
and the number of hugs she gets in one day.

Monday, September 16, 2013

"Love You" by Shane Hawley

This poem. 
This fucking poem.
I love it so much, and I am sure you will too. 
Shane Hawley performing "Love You" 

Our Wisdom Years

Blogger needs to figure this out. I've had huge problems being able to post. I'll be sending a letter soon. 
Anywhooooo, Here is a start to one of the first  political poems I have ever written Not sure where it is going yet.

Our Wisdom Years

Too many people are measuring worth with time,
As if this time is any different.
As if a clock counts in dollar bills and respect,
Respect doesn't hold hands with age.
It has to be earned.
It has to be burned into our skin,
Cut into our tongues so we can speak loud enough,
Only be proud to say something worth listening to.
There is no need for ignorance as a petition,
There are already bigots signing bills and passing laws that put limitations on imagination,
Who restrict our rights to education and to love.
That sway the crowds to the motion of an ocean polluted with hate,
With discord,
The dissonant sounds of generations losing sight of survival,
Losing their grasp on the reality of a car door,
Too often us children are being dragged and sat down in societies dentist chair,
They’re having their wisdom years pulled out from under tongue,
It is so sour to hear the sounds of innocence being pulled from ones mouth and mind,
The cutting of childhood from gum line leaves scars,
Only noticed when you smile,
And your smile has always been beautiful,
So show it more often,
Show them you’re proud to be young,
And that our innocence is not ignorance.
We've had it rough.
We've been told to grow the fuck up,
Given a rifle and jacket 5 sizes too big and told to fight someone else’s war.
Since first grade we've been handed sack lunches and prepackaged words from our parents,
Sentenced to listen to the repetition of how we should act, how we should act, how we should act.

We've had it rough,
Been given technology instead of love,
Brought up by a computer screen with lungs,
Ask.com only has so many answers.