Final Moments of February

I've been reading love poems
And I'm suddenly afraid
I'm doing it all wrong.

I'm afraid
So afraid
That I'll mess it up;
That I'll lose you.

I'm afraid
So afraid
That you don't understand
How much I love you.

My love has to be enough.
It's all I have to give.

God gave me love,
I lift it to you in these hands,
My hands, that can hold little
But overflow with love.

Let your gentle lungs
Inhale my honest breath
From tongue to lips to air
Sound unseen.

I must trust that you trust me
Though I'm so afraid.
But I will trust,
For nothing can be greater than my love.
--2.28.10

Lo Demas No Importa

Te amo.
?Por que estaria en un lazo
Con alguien que no pienso
Es el amor de mi vida?

No estaria.

Entonces, ahora,
Tu eres el amor de mi vida,
Y nada puede cambiar este hecho.

Mi amor,
No se preocupe.
No hay necesidad de preocuparse.

Tu eres
Tu eres
El amor de mi vida
Hoy, y manana.
Lo demas no importa.

No se preocupe.
Lo demas no importa.
Te amo.
--2.28.10

Fairy Tale

I want
The fairy tale
Back.

I want the romance, sweet kisses
Date nights too cool for a couple of dorks
Who happened to fit in each other's shoes.

I want rooftop rain, walks on the bridge
Streetlamp silhouette of two souls
Sitting, lost, on a rock in frozen February.

I want trying so hard, holding hands so tight
Hugs that last all night so we know
We'll wake up next to each other in the morning.

I want surprises and honesty
I want to share the beauty of this world with you
I just want love the way I thought it should be
Once upon a time.
--2.27.10

The River of Nostalgia

The River of Nostalgia
Its current is swift
Dip in one toe
And you're a lost cause.
I'm a good swimmer
But I still might drown
When it's you
That's pulling me along.
I've been fighting for days
No I've been fighting for weeks
No I've been fighting for years
And the River's still winning.
Maybe I should have burned the pictures
The River's drowning the smiles
And smashing me against rocks of despair
Leaving me tangled in rushes of fights
Fishes full of lonely nights
Driftwood carrying the days I wanted to die.
The River of Nostalgia
Just reminds me how fast time is moving
How long I have behind me
And I wonder how much further I can go.
--2.27.10

Not a Valentine

I want to

Attack you.

Because I keep trying to

Love you.

And you won't

Let me.

This is why

Human love

Is imperfect.

This is why there has been

In this, my life,

Heartache.

For the last

Two and three-quarters years.

--2.17.10

And It's Beginning to Snow

Today is... one of the only snow days NYU has had in the last 13 years. In fact it's the first time NYU has closed since 9/11. (And today we only actually closed after 12:30.)

Upon the announcement (from our office administrator, Jean) that classes had been cancelled and we should all go home, everyone in my classroom exploded in screams and hugs and jumping up and down like seven-year-olds. I just looked and felt kind of bewildered. The world seemed suddenly unreasonably loud. My fellow classmates were falling on each other in embraces. I happened to be standing at the other end of the room gathering my stuff to move to my next class when the announcement came, and I was soon very glad to not be in the small throng of people congregated around the door. As the day has gone on I've been glad for the extra time to actually get work done, and I'll go to bed at an hour that is considered normal by most people, and I might even watch a live tv show, but I don't like missing out on studio classes.

Dear Colleen,

I read your blog post and we should talk about it.

Colleen talked about liking this weather because we are forced to stop by something we can't control, and that's a reminder of God's presence. I agree with that, but I have always really liked these sorts of situations for the adventure of them. I like being caught in something with a group of people; feeling like we're all a part of the same thing. Everyone I rode the NYU bus with today was trying to get back to their dorm before the storm got worse. We were fleeing a rapidly emptying campus to the safety of our rooms. I've had the same experience when I've been in shows in buildings that have lost power (twice, actually), or when I'm trying to perform with a group of people during an epic rainstorm and the roof doesn't have soundproofing so you pretty much have to scream Annie Get Your Gun to actually be heard. And, not that this was a good thing, but when there was a gun threat at my school my senior year, the adventure of trying to figure out what was going on and if I would actually go to school the next day was exciting. So today, escaping a snowstorm (that wasn't nearly as epic as it was made out to be) was a little adventure.

I used to make up adventures walking home from my junior high. It was a little less than a mile, but in that time I would pretend to be on some epic trek that always ended at my house. This is incredibly dorky, but sometimes I would narrate it out loud, usually in the third person, explaining why I had the things I had in my bag in relation to my expedition. Other times I was a Laura Ingalls Wilder-esque schoolgirl heading home to help with chores after school. I've never wanted to live in a small town or on a farm or a legitimate prairie, but I've always enjoyed pretending I do. Don't ask me why. I'm imaginative.

Soon I have to find a summer job. Oh boy. It'll happen. It will. Somehow. For now I'm going to focus on reading the rest of The History of Sexuality for my Confessional Culture class. Which is awesome, by the way. Religious studies minor? I think so. Seminary? If I can figure out how to afford it... which will start with a job, I guess.

Melancholy Morning

So this poem and the two following it are the result of an assignment for a class. We had to write a short statement about what we think love is about, and then we had to write three songs (lyrically) in the style of three other artists, using that idea but forming it to the way these artists write. This is written in the style of Radiohead:

I was wondering the other day

When I'd find what I was looking for

Whatever I was looking for

When I found it I would know

I didn't know you'd look like you

But I'm sure you're what I'm after

I can hold you in this night

If you relax into the rhythm

Searching, reaching

Searching, reaching

Got to find you

Letting go in the process

It'll happen when it happens

I'm meant for you

So you will find me

And then we can get lost together

I'm meant for you

So you will find me

And then we can get lost together

--2.1.10

'Cause This Is Home

Written for class in the style of PJ Harvey:

Saw you across an East Village rooftop

Knew then the night would be heartache or bliss

Your heart could be far away

But look at the buildings

Aren't we seeing the same thing?

Don't we both feel the raindrops

Our skins might touch

I'm bare-shouldered in the wind

It's this rooftop

Where we're standing

It's the rain

Slamming on windows

It's the wind

Blowing between us

It's your eyes

Flashing in mine

Tell me stories of your past

Let's slide across the Brooklyn Bridge

Go home together

'Cause this is home

'Cause this is home

'Cause this is home

'Cause this is home

--2.1.10

There Is A Chance

Written for class in the style of Antony & The Johnsons:

In your eyes I see

The light reflecting from mine

We're frozen in a moment

As we're running out of time

Each half full

There is a chance

We won't fit together right

This is beyond need

This is souls kindling

Trusting that fingers interlacing

Can keep the spark from dwindling

We can't find the answers

We can only feel the truth

Ancient wisdom blooming forth

In the place of rusting youth

Each half full

There is a chance

We won't fit together right

But there's a fear of breaking

Of faith failing the certain

And living instead with heartache

Divided by ruthless, savage curtain

Veiling eyes

Stinging the soul

Leaving the world

Without bodies made whole

Each half full

There is a chance

We won't fit together right

--2.1.10