so there's this guy.
and i sit next to him in English.
and we're...friends.
buddies.
we make each other laugh.
so OF COURSE we don't "like" each other like that.
but for some reason, our elbows...
always seem to run into each other.
after the first bump we always move the elbows quickly apart.
and hurriedly say sorry.
but somehow those elbows
keep magnetating towards each other
and the second time they touch...
we don't pull them apart quite as fast...


Anonymous
3/28/2006
11:58:49 PM

From "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggers:

I tried about a million times to fix you, but it was so wrong for me to want to save you because I only wanted to eat you to make me stronger, I only wanted to devour all of you, I was a cancer--Oh but I do this for you. Don't you see I do this for you? I have done this all for you. I pretend that I do not but I do. I eat you to save you. I drink you to make you new. I gorge myself on all you, and I stand, dripping, with fists, with heaving shoulders--I will look stupid, I will crawl drenched in blood and shit, I will--Oh look at those birds, on their stiff tiny legs and--There is nowhere I stop and you begin. I am exhausted . . .

what does it fucking take what do you want how much do you want because I am willing and I'll stand before you and I'll raise my arms and give you my chest and throat and wait, and I've been so old for so long, for you, for you, I want it fast and right through me--Oh do it do it, you motherfuckers, do it you fuckers finally, finally, finally.



I realize this doesn't make sense if you haven't read the whole (very long) book. But oh my god.

A Pamphlet For Modern Living

Turn up the blaring TV screen
And bask in the quiet of the din.
Sleep often and forget the dreams
You’ve hidden all your worries in.

While showering, turn up the heat
And hum a bland repeating song.
Please move by rote - keep up the beat.
Try not dwell, and you can’t go wrong.

For lengthy thinking is the bait
That modern workers must avoid.
Every sense you must satiate,
And there is much you can employ.

Ocean noises are a must
(electronic or otherwise).
City noises can adjust
For thoughts that fear and sympathize.

Scented candles: use with care
to fill the nose and empty brains.
Pangs of love can be repaired
With faster cars and faster trains.

Now in your hands are all the means
To free your mind from human sin.
Sleep often and forget the dreams
You’ve hidden all your worries in.


Anonymous
3/19/2006
11:31:36 PM

Crucify me

I kneel to pray
I close my eyes
I fold my hands--
you fill me
behind closed eyes and between clasped hands
And then I return to catch the end of a Gospel-

"Praise be to God"

another message missed for you.
--and death's sweet time comes biding
and swings the souls on his chain like keys
I know not
what souls
are they
but that when we whisper of "heaven"
we speak of two places--
you are the only heaven I know now

"Forgive us our trespasses"

Forgive me, O God, for I have sinned
And sinned
And sinned again
-against what God, I know not
but by you, the god of my idolatry,
I have done no wrong-
in darkness
I offer
my prayers
to you
you who took the form of man
because you love me

"And lead us not into temptation"

touch me with your fire and scourge my Mother Earth
and driven back will we both be
to once when our gods were one and we were one and the earth and fire were one
I yearn for you--
No stale taste of wafers is your flesh
but the rich wine poured from the heart--

"Amen"

This is my body, which will be given up for you
Crucify me
that my blood may mix with yours
and point our way
to heaven

My dear I don't mean
To sound rude or obscene,
But I'll wind your Victrola
If you know what I mean.

------------------------

I'm quite far from miffed,
But to return such a gift?
I'll finger your rosary
If you get my drift.


Anonymous
3/18/2006
04:59:16 PM

Short Story Finalist!!!

*does a little jig*

Do you guys have any idea if they've announced the winner for Senior year? (enloe by the way)


Anonymous
3/17/2006
04:59:48 PM

Okay, I wrote this haiku for English and it just cracks me up too much. *ahem*

Night
It is dark. Dark. Dark.
It makes it hard to see things.
Plus there are vampires.

But my friend thinks I should make the last line, "Like vampires." That's funny, but not 5 syllables, oh well!


Anonymous
3/15/2006
06:37:21 PM

Apocryphal Revelation

The horizon exhaled her final hues
While night did don her blacks and blues
And as prismatic wards did purr
Summer awoke new adventure

You peered up at that dark sheet of night then,
Far too young to criticize anything beyond the phosphorus fields of fireflies
And how they hovered like fallen glitter from the Milky Way’s arts and crafts table
But that was too far from your driveway, a white spine of suburbia

I talked to you yesterday, when the air resembled blurry things of shadows (and their shadows)
You told me of how you looked into the eyes of stratospheric patchwork.
You told me of how you saw eternity.
You told me of how you screamed.

Now you sleep with a ceiling of above you,
No longer lofty ambitions.
And a blanket of restless sleep and panic,
Alarm clocks instead of teddy bears.
You sleep knowing where Adam came, and how far Adam has to go.


Maverick
3/14/2006
06:33:00 PM

Improv Poem.. and irritation.

In a great land so very far away
A child laughed and fell in the hay
And as he hopped, and jumped about
From his pocket some silver did fall out
A goblin then, who was hiding in the grass
Snapped it up, though his demeanor was crass
Zits and all, the goblin made his escape
While the saddened child, proceeded to go ape
And the ferocious matriarch shouted from the door
Get away from my child, and bother us no more!
With a wink and a howl, goblin sullenly fled
But returned with an ogre and orc in his stead
In reply to such a voracious attack
The mother slew them all, with a magnificent smack
Wiping grease from her cheek, and the axe in her belt
The child was amazed and yelled as he felt
Then the mother turned 'round, and swallowed her kid
Nobody was to know just what she had... did. (bad grammar)
She leaped towards a tree, and climbed its branches
Trying to constantly rhyme is hard... Ranches
I feel that this poem somehow didn't hit
In fact it has turned to a pile of shit.

There's something disgusting about projects for class
Especially from Language, makes me want to eat grass
We overanalyze the books, get the characters wrong
I'll never read Medea now without heaving a long
Deep sigh, because, I know now that Hera
Was the real villain, while steadily nearer (neara?)
Lurks the trial date for our dearest Medea
I'd rather do an in depth report about Chia

I'm so grateful that the Medea trials are over.


Anonymous
3/05/2006
09:31:25 PM