Guitarist

A punk, self-righteous and with a message.
On a hot night with stars that gleam bright.
In a field, on a stage, spot lights burning.
A concert for thousands, yet so intimate

Just for the hell of it.

Angel's Twenty

Soaring over soft seas,
The sun winks teasingly
From behind cotton clouds
The air is icy; the sky is deep;
The stars shimmer brightly like miniature cities.
Above the world, it is silent.
Gliding through the silky sky, as if in a dream.
Here, the colors show their brightest;
Ribbons of pink and gold lead the way to
That endless horizon.

*******
Engines roar onward;
The lights blink furiously around
The chill of the night has passed;
The scent of leather and fuel remains.
Through the dirty glass, the pilot stares.
He hopes to catch that horizon yet.
The radar is angry now; he holds her steady.
He talks to her gently to stay on course.
Ahead his eye catches the glinting of silver.
His heart leaps to a pound.
But he keeps her steady as the
Silver flashes again and again.
Ready and waiting, the pilot glides on
At Angel’s Twenty.

Cutting Loose

Sometimes things happen, and I can’t do anything about it.
I’ll try and try, but it’s no good; it turns out wrong all over again.
I guess I’ve come to grips with that; how nothing in life ever seems fair.
I’ve done what’s left to do, and now I just have to leave.

She looked at him, and he looked at her.
She could sense the distance between them; but there was still something left to feel. Something left that was unspoken.
Whatever they had was now broken.

The door snapped shut and she was gone forever.
He just sat there and stared at the walls; he felt like it was all a dream.
An endless dream that had been haunting him for months.
He heard the car sputter to life and the motor fade into the morning haze.
He opened the window and breathed in the fog, a smart-alec grin across his face.
Now he was free to roam the streets again; to follow the 'shit town lights' to independence.

He stepped out on the pavement, walking down the street.
He stared at the converse sneakers that covered his feet
And smiled.
As he walked deeper into that mist,
He started to sing all the tunes that he’d missed.
The ones he couldn’t sing around her, because she hated them.

He followed the shadows to the end of the Bay.
He heard the echoes of music somewhere along the way,
Realizing how much he’d missed it; how much time had been lost.
He watched his reflection twist and bend.

He left the Bay the day after.
He packed his things and drove off in a cloud of exhaust
With the dog in the back seat
And the guitar lying beside him.
He never looked back.

Lexi: A poem about my dog...

Always running about

Sniffing things with that inquiring snout.

A tail that curves and bends;

Ears that stick up, and pointed at the ends.

Eyes of amber and a little wet nose;

Runs in a frenzy, not caring where she goes.

She doesn't bark, but she'll let you know

Wherever it is she wants to go.

*So cute, right? She was really starting to annoy me that day, so I decided to use that as inspiration....

First Assignment: Poems

Hey. I have to type up some of the poems I turned in for my creative writing class. Here's the first one:

Friday Night at Juanita's

The sun sets over the street;

In a convertible car, with the wind in my hair.

There is the smell of rain, the stink of cigarettes that comes

With the flash of light from a match.

A half-moon glows dimly above;

Orange reflects brightly off of white-rimmed sunglasses.

Crumpled papers scratch the sidewalk in a breeze.

Fireflies float about like tiny beacons.

Excited voices buzz together in a dull murmur.

Motorcycles rest in their places, chrome gleaming.

The riders sit atop them, leather jackets loose on their shoulders.

Heavy doors open.

A pool of ruby-tinged light appears on the ground.

The calm has now lifted;

We swarm into the club, a waiting what we traveled so long to see.

Stars glitter and fade above

As music blares throughout the night.