It is quite difficult,
But oh what a glorious challenge,
To type a paper
With a cat on your lap.

Icarus I

He was the sun,
you see,
bright and beautiful.
He was warm,
though I never knew
(or will know)
the feel of his touch.

He burned,
an almost pure fire,
shining that the dark around him
fled.
He shone,
though dark of hair
and slim of frame,
he was so bright
I had to reach out to him.

Yet I am water and air,
slipping through cracks
and dipping past the blows.
I might soar up
to touch the sun,
but I will always melt with failure
and tumble away
from what was too good
to ever be mine.

Which attracts more,
the sadness or the weirdness?
And which will make them stay?

Which ties souls together
With thicker and tighter cords,
the laughter or the tears?

Already starting to fail,
feeling the pressure of fulfilling goals.
I need to fill the holes
in a ship already leaking.

The year is still young,
still new and bright.
I can write my way
to success I know.

It is easy
to slip into his orbit,
a sun that shines,
for I can already feel him
circling me.

It might become
what Sirius could be
if its halves were equal,
that bright star.

Perhaps I'm slipping in too deep,
Too close,
when I can hear warnings to stay out.
But few come from my own mind,
So I tread closer
to a heart beating next to mine.

Perhaps this time,
curiosity will kill me.

Music is Poetry is Music

Music is poetry,
And the opposite is true.
It needs time
To break time,
To give you a breath of immortality.

Minutes still tick by
As you are lost in words and scores.
For you though,
Time does not pass
While in that little piece of writing,
Or beautiful moment of score,
A year could pass
While you feel it a day stretched on forever.

Gathering up
strength and will,
 the discipline to go on,
As yet another semester commences,
As more friends prepare to leave.

Organizing frantically,
Putting things away,
Hoping that by bringing order to my surroundings
Will bring order to my life.

A long road stretches ahead,
Slowly covering in snow
As I fight my way
(Protected by a car)
With my friend by my side
Back to school.
Time's running out
To do everything,
To be a responsible adult.

So many moments,
I am silent.
It's no drama,
No melodramatic ennui
That closes my mouth in
Some sense of poetic justice.

Nah.
I've just usually found an appropriate musical lyric and have to stop myself from re-enacting
                                                                                                                     [the whole musical

Walking quickly,
With no thought to anything,
I passed the window.

My steps faltered.

I turned,
And was frozen by awe.
The night was dark,
Streets lit by solitary lamps,
For clouds had rolled in without
My noticing.
Their fury had turned to ease,
Releasing neither lightning
Nor furious rain,
Rather snowflakes,
Falling in soft clumps
Like lazy leaves settling onto the earth.

People Hurt

People hurt you.
You start to think
That maybe you'll be okay,
just fine-
And then someone does something,
Says a few words
And you're right back at the beginning,
Still hurting.

It was going to be okay,
I'd put the moment behind me,
And then he wanted to talk.

The heart was going to heal,
to move on,
And then he asked to write me.

She lost her temper.
She forgot my scars.

Little sticks
that add up like straws until
One more
is
Too much.

But everyone hurts you,
just like how you'll hurt everyone.
Fair's fair,
But that means we try to be a better human.
Better humans seem to hurt less.

The first gathering of the New Year
felt like something from the past.
It looked like high school,
But perhaps with less innocence.
Funny how time marches on
but we do not.