Mister Radio Man

Hey there Mister Radio Man, can I tell you a secret?
Will you play this love song on your radio show?
He'll tell it's for him,
by just the words that I've wrote.
Mister Radio Man, I've never felt like this before.

And I'm dancing to songs

I've never listened to before.

And I'm singing like a fool,

running through the rain.

Mister Radio Man, can I tell you this story?

It'll only take a moment,

but I gotta feeling that this feeling is gonna stay.

Hey there Mister Radio Man, can I tell you a secret?

The way he smiles

I just gotta know,

Mister Radio Man, will you tell me if he calls?

I've gotta leave his arms,

but tell him I'll be back.

Hey there Mister Radio Man,

I just gotta tell the whole world,

that this boy makes me happy.

Mister Radio Man, will you let me do that

on your radio show?

Deming 313

the pictures are off the door
the desk is cleared of the abandoned paperclips, sticky notes, and bobby pins
the closet is empty
the boxes and bags strain at their seams.

I look at the room
that has been my home
for the past two years.

I have met my best friend,
cried myself to sleep,
sat at my desk for endless hours,
and laughed until I had to run to the bathroom.

I have made tough decisions,
easy choices,
and hid in my closet when I couldn't decide which was which.

I have stumbled into,
and out, of bed
and curled up on the floor when the bed
was just too far away.

I have talked
and listened
and I have done my best to understand.

I won't necessarily miss the 3 flights of stairs,
--and I know Dad won't miss moving me in and out--
walking down the hallway,
waving to the camera that has been the witness
to many a strange event.

I knew it was a good sign
that I got my lucky number my freshman year.

But this room is more than
what it appears to be,

and I will miss it like an old friend.

strong.

Sometimes you have to be strong,
when in reality
you're just scared.
And you use your strength
to hide the pain
from everyone around you
with "No I'm fine."
and "I'm just tired."

And you are the only one
that knows
how much of a lie
those words are.

little black words

A little black book
filled with words.

A little blue book
filled with ideas.

A mind,
a pen,
ink stained fingers.

Too many late nights
to the sound of pages turning.

But they're all just words,
words on a page,
and the ideas are just that.

And there are times
when nothing else
will ever make sense.

Cling to the words,
because that's all
there will ever be.

What I Found.

I cheated on you,
just to see if I could.
And I found something,
I could.

I found
no regret
and adventure.

Everyone treated me the same,
because no body knew.
It was my grandest creation,
this secret life I had.

I found my desperation
to be loved
in someone else.

And we reached
a sort of understanding
deep within each other.

We touched,
in a way we never had before
with anyone else.

Because we both knew
that to love each other,
to stay with each other,
would be too much for the both of us.

And so we would remain
how we always were,
holding each other's love
in our hearts,
like a candle lit briefly
but blown out by the wind around us.





   A short note on this poem: I have never cheated on anyone I have been with.  However, through different character creations I came up with this girl.  She could be anyone, male or female, at any point time. I love the dynamics of human choices and despite my personal objections, this is one of my favorite poems.  Simply because it is innocent and honest and can be read a thousand different ways.  I hope you enjoy and understand why this was written.
   (I usually don't explain my work, but I feel this piece needed to be explained.)

What my Brain looks like.....

Doodles I did during class and a meeting.... (sorry they be backwards)

Frederic

The beginning of a character introduction for Frederic (the title character for my newest story).  I'm currently working on Rasha's journey to Frederic, but I wanted to get down some ideas for his introduction.  This is still a very rough sketch for him, and most of it inspired by one of the horses I work with at school.

   The horse was fire in the flesh.  His coat soaked in the sunlight and it rippled over his muscles like silk.  He tossed his mane proudly, flattened his ears and charged her.
   Rasha rolled out of the pen and watched between the planks of wood as the horse tossed his head and ran around the ring.  He was full of spirit and was by far the most gorgeous horse she had ever seen in her entire life.
   She smiled and climbed back through the planks of wood.  The horse watched her from the other side of the ring, his ears still flat against his head in anger.
   "You're not as tough as you think you are," Rasha told him.  The horse's ears snapped forward and he looked at her.  She laughed, "Yeah, that's what I thought."  She took the rope from her belt and let it run through her fingers, smoothly looping it into a neat coil in her left hand.  "Come here beautiful."
   She could feel the eyes of all the hostlers on her, but she kept her eyes on the horse, looking away whenever they made eye contact.  Rasha moved towards him, keeping on her toes and watching every muscle, trying to predict what his next would be.
   The horse charged, his ears flattened again.  Rasha threw the rope over his ears and looped it over his nose.  The horse stopped in his tracks and turned to charge her again.  But Rasha grabbed the rope over his face and twisted it.  He stopped.
   Keeping one hand on the rope around his face, she threw the free end over his neck and tied it under his chin.  She pushed away hid open mouth and jumped lightly onto his back.  He leapt forward, Rasha kept her hands firm and her legs light on his body and soon he had calmed.  She turned him to the gate, "Open it," she told the man standing there.  His trot was swift and smooth out of the city and as soon as they were in the open fields Rasha released her hold on him and they set upon the land, racing the wind.