the blur.

I turn my head, reaching for my glasses on the night table. A stream of light, coming in through the French windows, melts the motion of my fingers. I bask in the glorious blur of that light, allowing the early bird rays to lick my bare legs with their warmth. I glance around my room, colored in shades of the sunrise, thinking how beautiful the blur is. And how the second I put on those glasses, when all the details emerge from the blur and announce their names, it won’t be quite as beautiful anymore. There’s a certain charm in the unknown.

But I put the glasses on, anyway. 

©ace.

——

This is an excerpt from the novel I’ve been working on for… 4 years now? One year I’ll do NANO and just finish a full a draft, once and for all. 

I recently started working on it again and I know I have to revise my plot line at this point. I’ve grown as a writer and as a person so much since the idea first hit me in eighth grade. As I look back on some of my earliest attempts at executing the idea, they’re almost laughable. No, they are laughable. The writing sounds amateur, the characters are flat, and the plot is silly. I see that now. The novel is about coming of age when I had hardly “come of age” at 13. And sure, I’m not done “coming of age” but I’ve definitely got some more insight into the whole process, now.

I hope that one day I’ll have the balls to share this really intimate piece of who I am, because that’s what this novel (well the idea and the few pieces of it anyway) has become for me.

One day. Until then, I’ll prolly just keep posting excerpts on this blog.

the great reinvention.

Hair cut short,

curls that bounce just above the shoulders.

Head tilted toward the sky,

a gleaming white,

without the wire, 

without the inhibition. 

Skin like a silver screen star

glowing beneath the black screen stars.

In a vintage convertible slicing through

the open road and

the July night air.

This is the essence of

a license

and a full tank of gas. 

I’m waiting for the world

to lie at my feet.

I’m waiting for the great

Reinvention.

©ace.

new year.

and with a new year, 

i speak new words and invite

life into my lungs. 

©ace.

(gray) ladies and gentlemen,

My white china doll sits sipping her tea.

My dark gentleman ponders as he puffs his cigar.

Their parlor lacks a ceiling.

Doily snowflakes begin to fill the empty tea cup

and dust the discarded cigar.

Her lacy hands cut and light,

and his rough palms caress the teacup.

Their house is a shade of gray.

©ace.

——-

Wrote this yesterday for my AP Lit class. I love when we have a creative writing assignment, because we so rarely do. Even if I had to write an essay explaining it… 

I’d love to hear someone else’s analysis of this. It’s not as straightforward as my usual poetry. 

i’d be lying if i said it doesn’t hurt.

Last night I had this horribly bittersweet dream. It made no sense and yet, at the same time it made enough sense for me to be upset by it. 

I had a boyfriend. Or so I thought. 

The whole thing played out in scenes, like a short movie. First, there was this dulled flash of a rainbow and I was standing in front of the calendar in my room, only the month read “June,” and next Saturday was some ridiculous holiday called “Give your boyfriend a gift day.” So naturally, I was going to have to find a great present for my “boyfriend.” 

Another rainbow flash and I was talking to one of my friends in my room, which had been turned into some sort of daycare center. She was bouncing this little light-skinned girl on her knee, while thinking of a gift to suggest. The girl tugged at my ear and whispered a suggestion to me. I can’t recall what she said, but I smiled and laughed, and she joined in.

Rainbow flash and I’m sitting in my sister’s room, wrapping a big red box in a silky white ribbon. My mom was sitting on the bed watching me wrap it and asked why I was going to so much trouble. She suggested I just throw a party. I was immensely confused, but my sister seemed to think it was a good idea, too. I told them I didn’t want to; a party was unnecessary. I didn’t want to spend the day with anyone but him tomorrow. 

A few minutes later (in dream time, anyway) my phone buzzed and I saw this blurry image of a light-skinned boy light up on the screen. I’m guessing that was him. I opened the message and my face fell. I left the room and migrated to my room, which was no longer a daycare. As I felt the tears beginning to clog my vision, I saw the windows expanding and giving way to a beautiful sky line, lit up in oranges and pinks.

He’d told me he didn’t want to see me. Apparently I hadn’t even gone out with him on a date yet. Saturday was supposed to be our first date. 

Then I woke up. 

——

I know there are dream analysis books and what not, but I’m going to have a crack at this one myself. 

I feel like the little girl was light skinned because my boyfriend was light skinned, so she was meant to represent him. And whatever she said, I was never meant to hear, because it didn’t really matter. She was the innocent, ignorant bliss; she said something and I laughed at it, but I didn’t hear it. He made me laugh, made me smile, but it wasn’t real. 

The rainbow flashes were the motif gluing the three scenes together. A rainbow is fleeting, though beautiful, and doesn’t even seem tangible. Therefore… rainbow flash transitions. 

And of course my enigmatic “boyfriend” never appears and his face is all blurry in the caller ID. Then he tells me he doesn’t want to be with me.

I think this is all just pointing out the obvious: I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I want one. I want something I don’t even understand fully. Someone I don’t even know. Even if the heart break is inevitable. 

And then I guess I could look at this like so: Even in my dreams I can’t have a boyfriend. How nice. (I think you can tell which way I prefer to think of it as, haha.)

But I’ll be honest in saying that I woke up with a pang in my chest. This is deep fare to roll out of bed with at 7 am on a rainy Tuesday morning. 

nostalgia (do you remember?)

Do you remember

The heavy heat mingling with

Lightness in the breeze,

Rushing up through grass blades,

Meeting your bare toes,

Kissing your skin?

Do you remember

The twilight dressing you in

The glow of fireflies,

Igniting fire in your veins,

Pumping pure poetry to your heart,

Encasing it all in a suit of armor,

Melting metal to silk?

Do you remember

The cocoon of time easing you into

A lullaby state,

Rubbing the worry crease from your forehead,

Replacing it with that endless smile,

Nurturing the joy in your gut,

Barbecuing bliss into hamburgers?

Do you remember

Summer time?

Neither do I.

©ace.

carpe diem.

Finally. 

Finally, I’ve decided to start this blog. I’ve had this thing for months; it’s just been chillin’ in the “my blogs” sidebar, empty and waiting ever-so-patiently to be filled. I figured that 12 a.m. on a Sunday night in December is as good a time as any. Sure, it’s the middle of my senior year and I have ten other things I could and should be doing other than starting a writing blog, but I don’t care. This is about me… and my sanity.

I haven’t been writing a lot lately. Well, not for my own enjoyment, anyway. I’m hoping this blog will get me back into the spirit. My goal is to post something every day - maybe a haiku or some prose. Something simple. I’m done making a big deal out of writing. I’m done making a big deal out of doing what I love to do. And I love to write. 

So this is me, writing and loving it.