The Girl Called Chartreuse

The Girl Called Chartreuse

Mischievous feet pattered about drowned blossoms
A cool breeze on a blistering, mundane night
An oddity running away to enlist in the circus
Sighs of Unborn Sunbeams

Bitter sweet; a nibble of heartache
A blatant surprise, unsheltered from gaping stares
Sprinklers throwing rainbows to the sky
A relaxed laugh tinted with colorful hiccups
Dreams of bubbling sunshine

Zingy, Twangy, a hint of sunrise
A crooked smile that radiates, blooms
Clinging to doorways on Jamaican lanes
Blooming trance of sun's rays

Elegant, sleek in the soft glow of night
Candy to the worrisome eyes
A small sprightly thing grown far too fast
A warm reminder of winter's unyielding grasp
The dying hum of sunset

Chartreuse

*Note: I did not take this picture. (....it works oh so perfectly though :) )

Procrastination...the end :) (hopefully)

I've done an awful job keeping up with this blog. My only excuse--Life becomes a little too crazy a bit too often. :) However, I *DO* have a few plans of what I can be doing with this blog throughout the next little while. So---i'm definitely not at a loss for ideas. :) So---I've grown to love photography as well as writing oh so much more in the past little while. :) I think my love of these comes from that inexplicable joy of making something beautiful. Anywho,,,along with my poems, short stories and other such stuff, I will be putting some of my photography on here too. :) Good idea? (hahaha...actually...I can't say that public opinion matters too much....i'm a bit too determined. ;) )
...hahaha...I thought this picture describes my poor blogging pretty well ;)

New Moon/ Full Moon

A simple text can do OHHHHH so much. Something so small and almost pointless seems almost larger than life when unclear, unrealistic, and more confusing than where it should. New Moon---a movie blown out of proportion added with one of these small unclear texts can actually turn into something quite hilarious. Take for the example, "Why'd New Moon come out on a Full Moon?": it's a simple text. It's not quite so when people respond:

"Jacob---drool---", or "Did you FINALLY go see it?!?!?", or "Really Jasilyn?".

A simple question perhaps confuses people the most.

Nanowrimo

Throughout the month of November, I was the happy participant of "Nanowrimo". With writing a hopeful 1,667 words a day in the month of november, one is to be able to finish an entire novel. My novel was all planned out before I got started writing. Heroes were created and found their way into my mind throughout several times of the day. Villans were also created, though not as easily, and were also a constant thought on my mind. I've always wanted to write a novel; it has always been my dream and hope. My story was set, and nothing could change it--or so I thought. My book DID start out the way I wanted it to. People were placed right where I wanted them; people acted how I had always imagined them. Then, the characters seemed to develop as much stubborness as me and decided that they truly weren't happy with how I was taking the book. Honestly, I don't think that I was the creator of this story. Elizabeth, Dawsney, John, Doc,....they are truly the writers of this story.

Silence

Silence revolves. Silence erupts. Silence grips at sliding pencils that threaten to mock its sound. Silence is the icy grip that clings to one's tongue. Silence mourns and cries foul play. Silence is beauty that spins and twirls and shimmers with brilliant light. Silence is a dark; silence is the light. Silence breathes a rancid foulness. Silence hurts and breaks and tears. Silence huddles, alone is shadows. Silence blinks and stares for ages. Silence howls and screams. Silence simply lives.

Humming Hands

Somewhere under an endless rainbow, gentle giants from afar sing drifting lullabies to quiet ears. Humming Hands strum lazily through groves of floral heat. Together, inspiration blossoms grow. They grow to sing, and sing for me. Joy will blossom but, like its roots, will die and wither away to the depths of watery graves. Rainbows have melted, tears have run, and empty strings remain the same.

My Eyes Were Opened Wider

Running thorough a puff of clouds opened up my eyes. While dodging stars and hugging moons, my eyes were opened up. Even wider they approached as I conversed while swimming in the jello. Learning lost when finding none, my eyes widened still. And jumping down a flight of stairs while blowing golden bubbles, my eyes were opened, and so it was when gold had flooded my even-wider dreams. My opened eyes saw dancing muffins in burning ovens, rainbows without an end, grasshoppers with tiny fingers, and band aids cut out of rubber trees. Small blue flowers jumping on a world of dots had opened up my eyes. My eyes found perky birds with sun-sized eyes staring at the moon. They found peach tree dust that swayed like a cantaloupe on a drifting boat. Jumping bears and dancing beans hopped like drunken elves as my eyes were opened wider. Wider yet my eyes did get as silver roses of maple trees had arms for thorns to choke a listless finger while bluish ribbon of endless size joined to break a bond. Splitting broken ends of a most unfortunate size widened my worried eyes. Lights from mountains and caramel from trees, had my eyes opened at first, but to it added swimming goggles of tightening force, jungles of mooing donkeys and glue of sparkling colors. My eyes were opened wide, and the sight made my eyes open wider.