raðljóst

raðljóst Jan 2013

Untitled

as i take you to the woods
trust me
as i walk with your hand in mine
follow
as i guide you through the dark
relax
as i hold you close to my heart
and remember
always remember
that i love you

sometimes my poetry isn't even good. others won't like it, or appreciate it, but that's not my point. i don't need to impress, I just need to get thoughts out or I might explode.

raðljóst Jan 2013

labels

sometimes it's tiring
to sit and listen
to our friends
who talk about labels
labels of clothing
labels of people
labels and labels
silly names for what
they want to be known for
hipster
geek
or
prep
but what do these labels serve?
the greed for attention?
our eyes drawn to
their facebook pages
their clothes
their hair and their
make up
but do we really see them?
we're blind to the souls
and overlook the spirits
of our peers
with selective sights
we look on the surface
and judge what we see
to be what they are

I am sitting with my computer on my lap and apple in my left hand while writing this. My "friends" are sitting at the table with me, and at the next table beside it in the library. A quiet place that once was, is now full of people trying to define themselves and fit in. They're so loud, and today, I am very silent. I am eating my apple and listening as I type this. Kate is beside me working on biology, headphones in to block out the rest, and a boy I don't know is trying to pass math. I find better company in the people who say nothing than the people who say so much but mean so little.

raðljóst Jan 2013

different waters

in the river of wishes the salmon march
with feet they have longed for
all year
and all night
and in-between times
they wished with great might
out of the ocean of desire the penguins fly
with wings that can reach far
and take them so high
so high
high as the top of the sky
from the depths of the contented sea the turtle swims
with what he was born with -
short
but strong limbs
tending the seaweed he eats
with delicate trims

five-minute poems commence now!

raðljóst Jan 2013

nobody ever said

nobody ever said
hey, let's be friends
when i sat by the fence
and did equations in my head
of how numbers formed
so perfectly
but i couldn't tell them
what it meant to me

nobody ever said,
hey, you're not bad
when i listened to the tress
in my fort out there
in the school yard
with moss tangled
with grass
in my hair

nobody ever said,
i promise you now,
that you'll be so lucky,
your parents will allow
your love to be honest
and open to trust
you can love who you want
and that is enough

nobody ever said
hey, you didn't do wrong
when i grew up nervous
and left home before long
to cross over that sea
and live over there
nobody ever said,
hey, girl, i care

nobody ever said
hey, girl, it's okay
your daddy is long gone
and your mom's here today,
crying all night long,
but earth asks you to stay
and live out you life girl,
it's brighter each day

"What nobody ever said to you"

I was moved by this suggestion.
I think I let some weight off.

raðljóst Jan 2013

stork

lean of limb
broad of wing
standing in a mirror
breathing in the wind

looking for a lover
only one in life
nestled with each other
sleeping before flight

I actually wrote this out about an hour ago really fast and got all my thoughts down but then I closed the tab by accident, got distracted, and forgot the poem. Not a good feeling.

raðljóst Jan 2013

not "artist"

sometimes they tell me, riley,
you're a true artist,
when you grow up
you should paint for money
everyday

can't say why you think that
i don't like painting,
not painting like that
and they call me an artist
and from inside i scream out no
not like that

i don't want to have to do this
don't want to make and share
this
not any of it,
not now

so i put down my brush
and i walk away from paint
and in my life i decide
what's important
what's important

and i tell you that i don't know
whether my brushes will paint gold
or silver
or bronze
they do what they want

and i don't want them to do it
not today
maybe in a week or two or four
but today
i am myself, not "artist"

So many people have pressured me into taking art courses I am not interested in, pursuing a career in art, and drawing photos of them. I don't understand why I should do something just because I am good at it. I don't enjoy it as much as they think, I guess. They say, "don't waste your talent, you have a gift" but at the same time their eyes are saying "you have to do this, we are choosing your future for you, you have no choice," but I do have a choice. I have a choice to learn other skills and do what suits me best. Of course I'll pick up the paintbrush every so often, but that is not my life.

raðljóst Jan 2013

adventures in sleeping

sometimes i think it's dangerous to sleep
after reading two hundred pages
of my favorite fantasy book

for when i started to wake this morning
i battled huge rodents
and tiny sheep

and the creatures that haunt my sleeping mind
are very hard to see when
i never want to look

i close my weary eyes and hold my breath
until the creatures flee and i kiss goodbye
the memories i don't keep

I don't know if I like sleeping or not. Lately I've had really horrible dreams where it's some huge plot to ****** me and know who the murderer will be and how they will do it but I can't convince any of my loved ones that it is going to happen, so I wait until the day and try to fend for myself. What's worse is that they're going to **** me, and then all of my family, so if I die I am the only one that knows what is going on, and no one will see it coming.
And tonight I dreamed about a wise mouse, some sheep, a call to adventure that made zero sense at the time, and something high above a cloud. It was very scary for some reason, though, and so when I stood up to get dressed after having my mother yell at me for some time to get ready, the memory of it was 95% gone and I was quite glad.