8th grade

The room held an ominous silence.

It was late. Most had gone home.

One day.

Fake money and plastic flowers

Scattered across tile

Where the darkness gave fluorescent lights

a creepiness.

And that finality

Known all too well

When the energy is built up so high

Just to crash

When hours ago

This room was filled with laughter and joyfulness

Gone so suddenly

Almost like dead spirits

Now all that's left

Are half filled racks with suits

And an empty hallway

Where Axe lingers in the air

And props scattered on the ground

The remnants of multiple souls

Or one collaborative soul

Which I now mourn.

Mind

Songs that float amongst the unknown thoughts of  the spirits alive. Truth hidden my society and recklessness smothered by souls trapped in the belief that there is a golden time which they have exited. Every time is a golden time my children, every moment is specifically important and historical, with meaning to never, ever be forgotten. Do not cherish winter more than summer, not fall's happiness to spring's. Every nonexistent moment you are alive, live. Force is a debatable role in all action, so let yourself be force by yourself. Let guitars sing you to sleep so the cold winters air can soak into your being like the baths of lava you have just left. Let stories you have never heard of be explained in the upmost detail, lengthened into individual odysseys. This is your inner being which is being revealed, the most unique thing to ever not be seen. Picture the air that is not, but the reality is we are all in the sky being sent on missions of greatest importance - each and every one of us. The universe is Not. You are Not. I am Not.

Solstice

Yes, we celebrated the solstice last night. We all sat together talking about our days, and then talking about what has happened to us in the last year, and what we were thinking of right now. We discussed the fact that it was the longest night of the year, that the sky was dark for the most time out of any other time in the year. That after this turning point, winter would begin, and the process of the days getting longer would begin. We went to our altar where we had candles and incense, and we lit and burned them. We turned out all the lights and sat together and prayed. It was silent, and dark. All you saw was the two little flames on the altar quivering. We passed around the singing bowl, tapped it so you heard a bell, that repeated steadily like a heartbeat. 

When this moment was over, we got up and began to talk. We talked about the elements, fire, water, earth and air, and how they made up everything in life. I began to drum, softly and consistently, I drummed for a long time. Then my father had his turn drumming to fill the air with wonderfulness. We waved the incense around and then took deep, calming breaths. At midnight we all came together and I drummed as long and as fast as I could, keeping the energy rising, and then it fell again and we sat on the floor, looking at the candles, still burning. I prayed to The Earth and Sky and Elements and Stars, and I was sitting on my living room floor, watching the flame...

Verse

 I wrote a poem during hall break on Thursday, December 4, 2008. For those of you who know of the current controversy, this has NOTHING to do with that problem. This was just something that suddenly appeared in my head.

Jealousy to die for lies within one's heart

Soaking in the holes of the soul

Settling in for a session of destruction

Poisoning, twisting inside and out

Sucking out happiness where more should be put forth

And killing, ruining, life ended that moment

Sorrow has no expiration date

Feeding off of itself and empty spaces

Empty spaces...

The words once said

"Take it in stride lest you be called jealous,"

One may use as just a moment's long ease

Breath of comfort

Exhaled into the fire

Pray now you may see brighter days

Brighter self to emerge

Freedom from this death

May the spirits grant it to you.

Luna

I once saw a dream crying to the moon because her heart was broken. The dream named Luna flew around the darkness of the light, letting the ends of her soul drip sorrowfully into the minds of those below. Luna flew to and fro until she could no longer breathe between the movement and her sobs. Moon inquired of her dear friend as to who broke her heart. Luna replied no one. But the Moon saw and felt the pain of many a soul who cried their eyes out to her due to heartbreak.  Luna began to rant - more like singing actually. A long, beautiful string of high pitched notes that blended into each other starting slowly, and then quickened in tempo. When she was done, she floated beside Moon. Again, Moon asked who had broken her heart. The Dream Called Luna replied that loneliness had broken her heart.