On the first day of christmas my teacher gave to me
1 essay

On the second day of christmas my teacher gave to me
2 major projects
1essay

On the third day of christmas my teacher gave to me
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the fourth day of  christmas my teacher gave to me
4 journals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the fifth day of christmas my teacher gave to me
5 binders
4 journals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the sixth day of christmas my teacher gave to me
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 joournals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the seventh day of christmas my techer gave to me
7 laptops
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 journals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the eighth day of christmas my teacher gave to me
8 calculators
7 laptops
6 pencil bags
5 bingers
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the nineth day of christmas gave to me
9 work sheets
8 calculators
7 laptops
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 journals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

On the tenth day of christmas my teacher gave to me
10 mircoscopes
9 work sheet
8 calculators
7 laptops
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 journals
3 text books
2 major project
1 essay

On the eleventh day of christmas my teacher gave to me
11 math problems
10 mircoscopes
9 work sheets
8 calculator
7 lap tops
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 journals
3 text boooks
2 major projects
1 essay

On the 12 day of christmas teacher gave to me
12 test tubes
11 math problems
10 mircoscope
9 work sheets
8 calculators
7 lap tops
6 pencil bags
5 binders
4 journals
3 text books
2 major projects
1 essay

Movement, as if weighted in a quickly thickening mire
Pain so unrelenting, as if pierced with blades of fire
Snapping like a bass line in each gesture; in each breath
Whispering of days to come, more eminent than death
Tugging at the strings, further crippling the dance
Bleeding out chaotic rhythmic complication unromanced
Leaving me to wonder whether days like these will end
This lunacy of hope…is it real, or but pretend?
Wading through such torment, longing for the chance to smile
Hoping that each instance sweetly lingers yet a while
Adding laughter to the madness, leaching pleasure from the pain
In the knowledge that such sufferance was not survived in vain

When I was in the fourth grade I thought of it. When I was in the nineth grade, I wished for it. When I was in the tenth grade I dreamt of it, but now I am in the eleventh grade, and I continuously beg for it.

I am pleading with whatever God there may be; to allow me to receive my one and only true release from this never-ending misery. An escape from my growing insanity.

This is it. I refuse to continue praying for better brighter days, because it seems like The Divine will not answer those prayers for me. Now my prayers have changed. The end of my days. That's what I pray, beg, and plead for. That's what my heart, soul, and mind needs. This, maybe, God can answer for me.

Highest point of the construction
Site. On this job, it's the roof over
The nineth floor.

Horizon whispers of the sun.
I thank the skies for not raining
Right now.

I thank the buildings that make
Up the skyline for the work they've
Provided.

I thank the one I stand on this
Very moment, for the food it puts
On my table.

I've been too hungry to take it
For granted. I face north
And thank my home for its shelter,

For each memory that ties itself
Unto it. I thank the city of Oslo.
She has given me much. Taken too.

I turn to where I just might see the
Lights of my girlfriend's apartment
Building. Hoping she's sound

Asleep, enjoying the extra room the
Bed surrenders when I leave after
Spending the night.

Perhaps stretching out across my
Side; hand on the still warm
Impression on my pillow,

Thinking sleep now, girl. You know
He'll be back tomorrow.
I tip my hard hat to the fact,

And descend back down the ladder.
The sun is almost up, and no
Building ever built itself.

One day
he'll marry me
and not just out of obligation

itll have been ten years
since the beginning of my nineth
a decade
lets make it milleniums

i am loved so wholly
my feelings have no holes

The seventh of the nineth
Seven past nine
Such a coincidence
I've been wanting to write all day

Today was a good day, I remembered
Some things made me cry, some things made me mad
Some came back and some never surfaced
I forgave, but still I can't to forget

Seventy nine less tears than last time
Seventy nine less memories

You won't even recognize the meaning

I will always love you and miss you

But today tought me well

Red coats
First one personal
Second one coincidental
Third one
Fourth one
Fifth one
Sixth one
Seventh one
Eighth one
Nineth one
Tenth one
Seeing red coats everywhere
Red coats are taking over
When will the pink ones start

All in, do nothing, or do this

line by line imagine-ing, the verb behind what if,
the quest ion, sparking attention at the mention

cognosis troubler, bull in a china shop,

bringer of missile launching knowledge to fight with
a fuzzy visioned ****** breed of Andre stature,

pinged, 'im. Right between the eyes...

imagine doing that on the nineth at Pebble Beach,
with a nine iron, poised to

smack
a pink and white Ping classic purchased on Ebay for six bucks.

-- can't get that picture,
-- never had the feeling of whacking ball after ball into the desert, for the helluvit... if you missed that

you must have a metaphor of your own, for aiming at nothing,
and hitting dead center every time.

Monday, the nineth,
a special day for you,
even when you are not with us,
during this day, I want to thank you
for all the wisdom you gave,
for all the things you taught me,
for all your will and sense of humor
that made me laugh everyday-
consider me, my uncle,
as your living legacy.
I will complete all the things
for which God didn´t let you
enough time.
and tonight,
while i´m holding a candle,
that i´ll light in your memory,
I´ll just whisper to the little flame,
happy birthday, my uncle.

On the first day of Christmas
The Lord gave me a gift being a blessing to write

On the second day still inspired that went into the night

On the third day, I didn’t take the gift light

On the fourth day, continued to write with no plight

On the fifth day, joy all the way

On the sixth day, we had a snowstorm, and got out my sleigh

On the seventh day, fun being travel in a getaway

On the eighth day, thankful in every way

On the nineth day, rest and sleep

On the tenth day, dreaming of sheep

On the eleventh day, surrounded by family and friends

On the twelve day, the holiday slowly wined down, and came to an end