Hera can snore

Saturday. . .

looking for my muse in a early morning thunderstorm, I watch the morose clouds creep closer from a 2nd story window . As a laughing tyrant the dark mass, that appears to have blotted out the sun, cracks and snaps sending tremors through my body and quavering the earth. A sound, like the clamor birthed from a quarrel between Zeus and Hera, so loud that trepidation begins to collect before the next strike. Anxiety blitzes my mind, I fear that if the next crash of thunder is at all deafening as the last the sky itself will open. . . and then what shall we see ? The sun, stars, god almighty still asleep, counting sheep,snoring powerfully...? Seconds pass haltingly...Then a mighty blast, boom, and a burst later. . . still no ruptured sky, no answers. The storm soon subsides and I finish my bowl of top ramen...

If i were a tattoo

An older piece to kick off the weekend. A personal favorite inspired by the many marks we all carry, on our bodies and in our hearts. Please critique and comment as you like.



If I were a tattoo I would be a pink butterfly with green dots . I would fly around her ankle, secretly and gracefully. Beating my wings to cool her feet on hot summer days. To brush off the sand on long beach walks on the warm west coast. In winter I would be hidden under wool socks, but only to burst from my cocoon in spring where I would be accompanied by ankle bands toe rings and flirtatious flip flops. Attracting attention from all the boys.

If I were a tattoo I would be a forgotten name etched forever on his arm after a hazy weekend in Vegas. I would sit high up on his bicep . Every morning he would speak her name, loose it from his lips regretfully, in anguish, wondering who she is. He would look for her face in every crowd. And when he hears her name being called out he would wonder - "what if?"

If I were a tattoo I would be a golden dragon twisting around her neck like jewelry. I would watch the world pass by from her shoulder. Protecting her from being hurt. Set out on her mantle of flesh as a beacon. Calling out to random strangers at bars who offer her drinks she politely accepts rejectingly. I would be there for her always protecting her secrets and collecting her running tears. Comforting her , watching with her, the world pass her by like a discarded half-empty pen.

If I were a tattoo I would be a beating heart with barbed wire coiled around it, beads of blood dripping down. I would bump and swagger upon his chest in pain. The wire protecting him from his fears and doubts. Never letting him be hurt again. I would remind him, restrain him, bind him forever to some forgotten contract.

If I were a tattoo I would be a silver and gold ring wrapping around his and her fingers. I would look like spun silver and silk gold, holding together soul mates. I would never fall off or be forgotten. I would be remembered always cherished always. My ink would never fade.

Seasons

Seasons pass as we grow old . The fragile winter thaws into jubilant spring and summer sings it's swan song as it drops into decayed fall. We who were once so young and unparishable now find ourselves fallen into ruin and disrepair . Our new years resolutions continuously left in a wake of dead leaves, powdered snow, fresh mulch and hot beach sand . With each step we take towards our demise the more we appreciate tomorrow and cling to today . The sun tastes brighter , sky smells blue-er, and the earth looks softer. The touch of a song is stronger and the sound of a valley more symphonic. We watch leaves fall in the mirror, the gathering of cobwebs in our minds, our weathered faces. The rust in our hair, silver gray. We look out our windows into so green fields , and revel in our pasts reflected there. We pass on into the hereafter and the seasons grow old.

Flight of the dead

I had a busy day, feeling a little sick, didnt have time to write anything new so I brought up this piece from my personal stash. It was something I wrote at 3am after getting in a small bit of trouble. Enjoy.

Flashing lights
a blur of birds in flight
we shed our immortal coils and are human once more
like wrecked ships with tattered sails lined up on the foggy shore.
We fade one by one
like ghosts evaporating with the rising sun.

A morning drive

The mountains and hills kissed the clouds and the sky soon blushed a purple-red-orange . The morning dust was shaken from our bodies as we rolled toward the burning horizon, a song twisting in our ears, something about love. Down an empty highway passing vacant parking lots and superstores in silence. No words found or needed to describe our invisible bonds. The river to our side could not be as deep as our souls or as wild as our hearts .

The red balloon

I am the red balloon you let go when you were young. You walked around with me tied to your wrist for what seemed like years but was only hours ... The sky so big and blue , calling to you . Telling you to fly. But you, young and afraid could not. You gave me a kiss , the sun checked it's reflection on my surface, and you cut our ties ... Letting me go forever. As you watched me float away past the clouds you hoped someday you would see what I saw , go where I went. Beyond gods eyes . Just a red speck in the Sky to most, to your eyes all hopes dreams and possibilities. A simple object defying gravity, refusing to be weighed down, to heed its call.

Me

I am a college student who just wanted to start a blog as a place to post his writing and thoughts in general. I love feedback and hearing other peoples ideas. I enjoy discussing deep topics and debating big questions. I am currently a psychology major and a philosophy minor. my goal in life is to make at least one person smile every day. If you have any questions just let me know, otherwise I hope you enjoy my blog.