Sometimes I open my mouth and it all comes out in nonsense.

These are some lyrics I wrote by accident. If you figure out what they mean, let me know. I sure have no clue.

Sugar Cubes & Planetoids

Zephyrs sing the blossom breeze
To sunshine-painted apple trees in pacifist pastels
Of neon turquoise-pinky-greens.
The sun, it tumbles from the sky,
Climbing walls that ask it why--why it wants to shine.

Her shoes float clean above the sand
Clicking whispered rumors and talking to the sea
Of things unknown to fish or man.
She spreads her wings to orchestrate
The silence of all those who wait to find a chance to grin.

She measures time in sugar cubes and planetoids,
Flying to the moon and back by the gleam of a flamingo.
The world is spinning wild and free
To the tune of the ambrosia tree
Upside-down and frontwards like a macaroni sunshine.

Her dance under the mountain shade
Shows eagles that to be afraid means not a thing at all
To yodlers' purple canvases of sound.
Each tear she tries to purify
Tells tales of secret lullaby and softness of the lamb.

She measures time in sugar cubes and planetoids,
Flying to the moon and back by the gleam of a flamingo.
The world is spinning wild and free
To the tune of the ambrosia tree
Upside-down and frontwards like a macaroni sunshine.

Dancing aloud in rainbow hues
Sends waves of synesthesia
Into tired robins' eggs
That hatch out in fledgling laughter
And fall into the star.

She measures time in sugar cubes and planetoids,
Flying to the moon and back by the gleam of a flamingo.
The world is spinning wild and free
To the tune of the ambrosia tree
Upside-down and frontwards like a macaroni sunshine.


I swear I'm not on drugs. Mostly these lyrics (if you can call them that) are some of my favorite words strung together. Thought I'd share. ..The end.

Apparently I Wrote This Poem

I have no reccollection of writing this. But I kinda like it. So.

What will you save when the house begins to burn?
Is it the clock on the wall?
tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick
Work, Chore, Job, Give, Serve, Slave, Labor.

What will you take while the blaze starts to grow?
Is it the toys in the box?
zip, zoom, zip, zoom, zip, zoom, zip
Play, Run Fly, Hide, Dance, Laugh, Excite.

What will you need once the flames commence their climb?
Is it the wealth in the safe?
swish, clank, swish, clank, swish, clank, swish
Buy, Spend, Pay, Sell, Own, Keep, Covet.

What will you save when your house begins to burn?
Is it the old quilt lying on your bed?
breathe, sigh, breathe, sigh, breathe, sigh, breathe
Rest, Warmth, Sleep, Peace, Safe, Love, Home.

tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick...
and the fire rages.


Okay kinda morbid. So... have a happy day anyway! :)

Yes, I Wrote this as a College Application Essay

The prompt: "find 'x'." My essay:

I'm not a young girl frantically trying to finish her college application. That makes a terrible essay. No, I need a better story to tell, true or not. Find "x" is the prompt. X... x... marks the spot? And suddenly I'm not a young girl scrambling to write an essay. I'm the invisible observer of a pirate captain, on his last peg leg in life, searching for that final treasure.

"To the oars, boys, and no shenanigans in the landing!" the Captain growls. "Avast, lads, don't slack on the port side, or we'll be going in circles!" The rowers to port speed up, matching the steady strumming sound of the men to starboard.

"Blasted leg," the Captain mumbles, rubbing the bandage that hides the stump of his real leg and the wood and leather of his false one.

"Captain," the first mate, One-patch Tom, sighs, "don't you think we should be focusing on, say, landing and digging up the treasure?" Rubbing his good eye in frustration, Tom waits for an answer.

"Aye, lad," the Captain says, "you have the map?"

"Of course." One of us has to be responsible, and it's sure not you, Tom thinks privately. Not for the first time, Tom wonders if a mutiny might not be the best thing for the crew. Then again, the Captain is about to retire, and it would be cruel to bump the guy off now. With any luck, Tom will inherit the ship, The Black Sail, after he and the Captain chase down this last treasure. "Ready when you are, Cap'n."

Tom heaves the longboat over the side of the Sail, enlisting Evil Beard Steve to help him. The boat thumps into the water, rocking back and forth on the green waves.

"Coming, Cap'n?" Tom calls out.

"Yes, certainly, in a moment," the Captain replies. Tom sighs again; with the Captain, a moment could be five minutes or half an hour. Steve smiles at Tom, recognizing the cause for the sigh. To Tom's satisfaction, the Captain bustles over, shouting to the wind at large that he's ready to hunt down his treasure.

The boat grates against the sand, slowing suddenly, halting with a bump. Tom hops out, pushing it to the shore. The Captain sits up straight, grinning like a child, as the boat slides the last few yards to dry land while he rides inside it.

"Comer along, Capn'n," Tom says when the boat is secure. "We've got a treasure to find." Tom hefts the one and only shovel, knowing that the Captain won't be digging. This last treasure, and the Sail will be mine, Tom tells himself for the umpteenth time. I can get through this.

"Aye lad, of course we do! The great treasure of Big Hook Henry himself!"

"Yes, sir," Tom says, not mentioning that it was he, Tom, that found the treasure map to begin with, not to mention being the person who told the Captain about Big Hook Henry. One of the perks of being Captain, I guess. I'll be able to take credit for everything good that happens on my ship.

"Give me the map, Tom," the Captain commands. "I'll be doing the navigating here." Tom hands the Captain the map; it's not as though he needs it. I've studied it so much that I could probably see the whole thing by closing my eyes, he thinks.

"Well, this should be as easy as finding North with a compass!" The Captain exclaims. "Look, Tom, all we have to do is find this big red 'X' on the sand, and the treasure will be under it!"

"I don't think it works like that, Cap'n." Tom says.

"Of course it does, my lad! Look at the map!" Holding the map out--upside-down--for Tom to see, the Captain points out the 'X' marking the spot.

"Of course, Cap'n," Tom says, rolling his eyes. "Let's find 'X.'" The Captain starts climbing up a hill, heedless of the wind blowing through the brush.

"Cap'n? Where are you going?" Tom calls after him.

"To find 'X' of course! Where is your head today, lad?" Tom shakes his head at the whole silly business, but follows the Captain up the hill.

The hill allows Tom and the Captain a view of the whole island. It looks exactly like the map. There's the cluster of five trees around a spring of fresh water. There's the wreck of Big Hook Henry's ship. And there... Tom shakes his head again, this time in disbelief. There's the big red "X" painted on the sand.

"Come along, lad!" The Captain shouts, running--well, sort of limping, really, but at least limping quickly--toward the "X." Still in disbelief, Tom follows. I don't know how he does it, Tom thinks to himself, but the Captain sure has pirate's luck. Smiling, Tom carries the shovel downt the hill toward the waiting booty; the gold, the jewels, all from simply finding "X."

And that is how you get into college. I hope.

In Honor of St. Valentine

I tried not to smile too much. Even today, even on St. Valentine's day, I was still supposed to be a refined lady. But, oh, how I missed him! And to recieve a letter from him, today! Emma, little Emma, came running out to the mailbox to see.

"Oh, today I don't care!" I exclaimed. I ran toward my little daughter, scooped her up into my arms, and skipped, laughing, back into our smiling house.

"A letter from Papa?" She asked, her eyes gleaming.

"Yes, a letter from Papa!" I set her on my lap, smoothing her dress. Then, slowly, she and I opened the letter together--my end of the envelope torn as straight as I could make it without a letter opener, hers a series of small tears made by sticky hands.

"My darling Jane and dearest Emma," it read. Emma giggled and shrieked on hearing her name, but I read on. "Today I can think only of you. Johnson, from the bunk nearest mine, reminded me that Valentine's day is soon. To be away from my wife and little girl now, when I wish to hold them closest! If I were not here to get money for you, if my work here were not so that we could start our lives over, independent, I would run home into your arms today, and kiss you, and hold you tight, and laugh when you laughed and smile when you smiled. I would pick flowers all the way from here to Missouri for you, and when I saw you I would forget the bouquet and drop it so that I could get to you that much faster. I will return to your love soon. But for now, my beloved wife, wrap yourself tight in a blanket woven of mine. Kiss our little girl for me.

Love always and forever, from your hearts to mine and back again,

David"

Emma slid off my lap, running out the door.

"Emma!" I called after her, "it's time for supper, not to play! Come back please!" I could hear her little voice singing one of her made-up songs about flowers and Papa and horses. Smiling, I shook my head. "Emma, please!" She skipped in through the front door again, suffocating a daisy in her grip. She held it out for me.

"So when Papa comes home you won't be sad abaout the flowers. One every day to tell you 'I love you' from Papa."

"One every day," I said, kissing her sun-warm cheek, "until your Papa comes back home again."