Opinions? 

( Man, it's been so long )

Tags: poetry

( It Takes a Village )

Tags: school stuff

( The Hunger in Utopia )

Tags: school stuff

I have a confession to make, I love young adult novels. ( Read more... )

Tags: school stuff, twilight series

My thoughts on Ginia Bellafante's NY Times article in which she states that no woman would watch Game of Thrones if not for the illicit sex. ( Not Just For Boys )

Tags: schoolytime
Current Location: mchomeytown
Presently I am : ahhhhhhh

 
Funeral poem from Four Weddings and a Funeral.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden (1907-1973

Tags: goodbye
Presently I am : goodbye grandpa

 The assignment was to write the biography of WIlly Loman (from Death of a Salesman) from his pov, his son biff's or his wife's. 


( My father was a man of many faults )

Tags: school stuff

 If you've read The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins (or if you haven't and you just have advice, opinions, criticisms) I'm looking for feedback on a short story. 

The assignment is to rewrite the story told from her husband's perspective. 

( Read more... )

Tags: poetry
Presently I am : accomplished

 There's so much I wish to tell you. So much i don't allow myself to say. It's the yesterdays that haunt me. that run me screaming throught the hallways of my own dreams and wish ill upon me. 
but i know better. i know there's nothing to be said or done to forget you or me or the moments when you remember I exist, which aren't very many but I hold out hope anyway. I type and breathe and try to believe but there isn't anything left to believe in about us is there. You shok me awake from a dream only to leave me shivering on the doorstep of reality and expect to play fair from now on but you don't seem to realize there isn't much I believe in anymore save for me and you and the hope that it wasn't all an object lesson in understanding. because I don't understand. I don't get how you should feel about me one moment and forget I exist the next. 

 This is me. Single and "not" lonely on a Saturday night. The band was awesome. The moment came and passed while the jager pretended friendship. It was neither friendship nor love and the world kept spinning no matter what Janet said. It wasn't like I couldn't fake Mrs. Whatever. See people got this feeling that I cared and after..well after...I just couldn't muster caring. 

So I served Margaritas instead of epiphany's. I never expected to fall for him. I'd spent quite a bit of time without the company of a heartbeat and learned, just as I had when I was "living' that people are notoriously unreliable. I could pretend I didn't spend the night waiting to see if he noticed me but I refused to give him that satisfaction. 

He used to notice me. 

This is my life. the moment before happening. 

There's never anything that's enough for me. I'm so used to second best that even when the moment comes I can't remember why I was supposed to object. 

I'd like to pretend that it doesn't matter. But it does. This is the moment I exploded. But that wasn't the beginning. The beginning came long before now. 

now. if yesterday was a sestina, today is a haiku. 

See. I don't mean to be me. i just am. Me. But if you'd prefer I'd be happy to be me another time. If you'd like me to be not me please call within sober hours and you'll be duly introduced to an automated voice. 

this is the moment I try and find the part of me that's still alive. the part of me that wants to care because otherwise there's a bottle of whiskey that's calling to be tested. 

So give me something mother fucker. Some kind of hope because I've gone without for long enough that i've forgotten what it's like to dream.