Pandora’s Box <>


Wish I had something to eat

Anything would be a treat

My hands are trembling to and fro

Body doesn’t know which way to go

There are no decent distractions in sight

My body’s going to have to fight

Nightmares are spinning but I’m wide awake

My heart’s going to rip out of my chest,

How much more can I take

I decide, this time, I’m going to defeat it

This is the time I will proudly say, I beat it

To no avail are my wishes, for they

burn up in a cloud of dust

I must leave, I MUST

before I pass out on my classmates

Taylor or Adrian

So I glance at the clock

Thirty minutes

Inside my adrenaline is pounding

The alarms are sounding

Run, leave, escape, my feet are stuck

I tuck my pen around my fingers

They swell the longer the pen lingers

Then, I almost cry out in agony and pain

My blood begins to drain

Out of my head

and down it goes

I feel it rushing past my nose to my toes

now I ask or rather plead for help

My speech is not concise but a yelp

I begin my walk of shame

with nothing and no one to blame

Out the classroom across the strange soggy carpet

down the staircase my pace so fast

The Pandora’s box of terror and fear

no longer cloudy but crystal clear

me taking refuge in

the nurse’s office

I lost the battle no one can win

because once Pandora’s box is unlocked

It takes a certain spell to lock

her and her trickery back in.

Ode to Photographs


Photographs, oh the things you capture

You have seen everything and been ever where in the world

Capturing as you go

Brutal murder scenes

Complete and utter rapture

You capture a smile

You capture the old, discolored newspaper pile

You capture a person

Stuck in denial


Photographs capture

A moment and keep it for you

Whenever you are miserable and lost

The sapphire box of old memories will

Draw a memory back for you

Running straight

On the track

Back on memory lane,

Embedded deep in my brain


Photographs assist my meeting people

I never could; relatives from distant lands

But I still can’t

Because if humanly possible I would


Photographs of

Exotic flowers and wicked witches

With mystical powers

Pictures of places

Paris, Prague, and Rome

All the way to Australia till

I get back home


The simplicity of a photograph is overrun

When a holiday comes

My mom overdoes it a bit

1000 pictures in an evening

My smile is as tight and fake and insincere

As a man’s apology



You capture


You capture


You capture


You completely stop time

With no reason or rhyme


Photos when we forgot

You help us remember like that

First kiss, or first snow fall of the season


Photographs sometimes people

Use you for wrong

Pornography, loss of privacy

Pure treason

And morally wrong.


Photographs you keep my eyes wide awake

At night

Filling my live dreams to the brim

With delight, pure dynamite

Old yearbook scribbles are only


With a photo, a face

To go with the comments in

An arbitrary place on the page


Photos never go out of style

Here they lie in a pile

I pick one up and

Although some depict horror

Such as war

Something that Americans can no longer ignore

I pick out a photo of a girl staring in the sky

Letting the day’s woes pass her by


Thank you photograph

For all that you do

Start, end a conversation

Ruin a marriage

Trigger a memory

Ruin a friendship

Trigger an emotion that triggers

An emotion stronger

That segways into a moment-

Admission of true love


Songs have been written about you

Millions of green pieces of paper have been exchanged

For one of you

A quick, fickle but true fact

America is tainted by pictures mistaken as facts


Photographs you

Take a gift and wrap it

The icing on the cake


The only things I have left now

Although beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Guilt is in the eye of the photo holder


This is an ode to you photos

Our mind’s eye is in love with the

Creativity you stir


I can pick up an aged snapshot

And see an old friend who has long since

Dismissed me from view



So I will take the good with the unspeakable

The healthy, with the untreatable

The ones in love along with the dejected

Oh photographs

Let me count the days

The angles and ways

You change me each of these passing days.

The New Cold Wars: Can we Stop the Wheels from Turning?


I feel so hot (Not that kind either)

Although I just showered, dressed, and brushed my hair

I’m immersed in this awful sweat

Running my hands under frigid water does nothing for

There has been nothing to make me feel cool yet

I type out these haphazard words, sentences, and pages

while outside the walls of my home war rages

America is in three wars I believe, three more than

I want to conceive.

I’m delirious, dizzy and spinning through time and through space

I feel lost in life like I don’t have a place

Everything is different that what I had thought

For what it is worth I loved him a lot

I belong at Shimer college with my friends all around

For I know they won’t bring me down.

Again the cold and bullets I sweat

Getting better for tomorrow?

Not an option yet.

My poem is confusing

It is taking all my current thoughts

Friends, love, love lost, my cold, the wars, the new cold war

I cannot seem to untangle my thoughts

I better get better if I am to find what is lost.

And recognize we could be on the brink of a new cold war.

The one I battle, cuddled up on the couch can be won.

What can be done so that the other wars are over?

When does their hardship end>?

I complain about this cold, but I will be fine in a few days.

What about the world?

When will it find solace?

I recognize there will always be conflict, but

will there always be suffering of that magnitude?

I ask everyone citizen of this earth —

What can be done against such adversity?

Ode to Crying


This is an ode to crying, like in the blazing sun

In a world where

Emotions are a mask for

The true one

While sadness is

Hard to diagnose,

Even though you can feel it in your bones

Thanks crying for being an obvious red flag

That something’s wrong

Out of place

Lost for a while

Or perhaps lost in time or space

Crying, you show courage

Even though you are humiliated, mocked

Keep on crying

Give it all you’ve got

Bottle it up, and then explode

For when people

Go into a lasting shock

Thank you crying for your

Salty appeal

For the wounds

You rip open,

Close shut, and miraculously heal.

Everyone has unique cry

It is a part of them as shy as they could

About it







Vary from a quiet sob

To wailing eardrum crushing…

Crying is an art –

Painting a picture

For the dumb, oblivious,

And the smart

That she loved him from the start

Now she is mangled in knots,

Broken apart

He sees her breakdown,

Take that cell phone

Aqua razor

And break it to bits

Like hitting it with a tazer

But she just flung it against the wall

Creating a sound of breaking metal

And an expression on the fall

The fall on this face

It ends now he decides

They reside each alone

The sadness in her heart

Now presides in his too

That’s what crying can do,

Bring out the best or worse in you

Crying you’ve teamed up with shaking

And lost contact with privacy

I have a bruise the shape of a baseball

From shaking and crying,

I expect an apology from you

But weeping, crying

When I can’t stop

Starting to burst, pop

Then you’ve gone too far.

I know I have to paint the picture

But break eardrums to, sounds like someone

Just lacerated and murdered my soul.

That’s something we could work

On me and you

Less crying,

More laughing?

This is how I felt, but no more: I love me for me!


Because I’m overweight, I eat next to nothing for breakfast. Or drink ensure. (Not anymore)

Because I’m overweight, trying on dresses for the SGA banquet was a plea with God, that said —“Please help me find something that doesn’t make me look HUGE.”

Since I’m overweight more than half my closet doesn’t fit and I ignore that half, even ignoring the shoes that exist there, just so I can avoid the beautiful clothes that make me look like someone who has quit on life.

Like a fat camp failure. (No offense to anyone)

But I eat okay. I exercise. I obsess about food. Even fruit.

Sure I am human so I make mistakes.

The truth is my medicine makes losing weight nearly impossible.

But, Because I’m fat every mistake is like a crime.The punishment life without parole in my body. That is punishment enough…

Suddenly, I started losing weight. Just stayed busy and it started coming off…I don’t feel fat anymore.

I feel society created something in my mind that I constantly compared myself to.

No more.

I don’t need a man to validate my feelings.

I love me for me. =)

I don’t mean to be harsh, but Horrible: Horrible Bosses 2


Horrible bosses 2 was a movie I agreed to see reluctantly. I would like to go back in time and unsee this film. The word in the title explains this movie best and simply : It was horrible. The characters are crass and predicable. The plot
is so strange and does not even entertain. It makes you laugh probably its only redeemable quality. It is unnecessarily vulgar at times. It is not a strong movie. Even the over the top humor is inconsistent. Also, this movie has an identity crisis is it a comedy or action? That struggle to play both sides is a reason that this movie wasn’t good. I am struggling to put into words how much I disliked this movie. I was fair and unbiased. I laughed. Even after seeing the first installment, I gave it another chance with this sequence. I agreed to this over other films.

I cannot with good faith recommend this movie.

I wish my review could be longer, but it is simple. Poor acting, poor plot, over acting, and general discomfort created for the viewer. Maybe there exists an audience for this view.

I am not that audience and I recommend strongly to avoid this film.

Spawn of Satan


Spawn of Satan

I sit uneasy

I stand tall

I pull and press the cold torment in my hand

My dirty jean apron is tied

My cloudy red bucket nearby

The music in the distance is the only soothing thing

With the gray clay

I fixate my mind on a small perfect vase

And for a moment in space

It exists

I glace over at my tools

At my damp pick and my filthy needle

My hands bone dry

I make three coils

They are stacked on the wheel

Oh Coils I hate the false joy you bring

It makes my heart sing

A lovely but misleading tune

Makes me look like a loon

So I work work work

Faster, concentrate

I combine you into one piece

Low and behold like rotting mold

On my toast


You infuriate me

I plot ways to clash swords with you and win

Yet outwards travels the clay

Like a Mayan Temple

You, coils torture like a bully

You get inside my mind

You mess with calm

And create the perfect storm for madness

Maybe I stabbed my hand with the chisel

But so many failures of the toll of the coil

The toil of making circles makes me

Dizzy and you collapse my senses

Like a bully

You always reemerge

More hurtful

I stack and combine three more

It is woman verses nature

Maria against the coil

I will spin you around and make you puke

But again I have to start again

With what strength I have left

I stand up

I sadly but angrily crumple and thrust

You into the bin

Evil coil

You make my blood boil

You make me bleed my own blood

I have nothing to show for all these hours

Except your victory

And some blood

I curse the day you were born

Circles represent forever,

Perpetually they go on

So Forever I wage battle

Guerrilla Warfare

My fist smack and the table rattle

Until I collapse

Or you melt

Spawn of Satan

I want to take it


I want to take it

Away from your hand

That power only you have over me

It’s one I can’t stand

I want to take it

And twist it and turn it

Take it deep in the woods and burn it

I want to stop feeding your powers

With a beaming smile and joking conversation

I want to take away your smile’s sensation

I think I’ll bend it

Reverse it to you

So that way you’ll feel it

You’ll love me

The way I love you

I mean,

If it can’t be destroyed

I wish it changes its spell

The powers of heaven and hell

Clash before my eyes

My only prize

Is knowing I’ll see you again

But this is a double ended sword

The other end is your powers

Your purple pixie dust

That activates when our eyes meet

It’s the best pleasure in my life

And the worst torment at the same time

A paradox – that’s your true power

You have my in rapture one moment

Then captured by tears the next

Unable to breath, swallow, or move.

I want to take it, shatter and break it

There. Now it is done.

Now, It commands me no more.

Gone Girl, Lost soul


The moment the first sentences were uttered by Nick about crackling his wife’s skull to read her thoughts, I realized this was going to be different than I had that and that thrilled me. This statement would seem to automatically imply his guilt in her disappearance. The brilliance of this movie is the pace and the suspense is carefully calculated and sprinkled carefully throughout the film. The scenes of their love that twist into a hatred so strong she actually attempts to frame her own husband of her murder, shows the real crazy inside the very fiber of her being.

This movie will draw out emotions in you that you didn’t know you had for Nick’s apathy towards the situation that turns to anger when he is found as having a mistress and being framed. The forgotten victim in this movie is Margo, Nick’s twin sister who at one point gets arrested as an accessory to murder. I truly cannot explain but would strong encourage the watching of the movie and the read of the book. The differences are small, but the movie pulses blood through your brain in a way I have never experienced. At one point when Neil Patrick Harris who plays Desi appears to help Amy with her plot (he is unaware) the film gets even more dark than I thought it could ever be. Read the book maybe, but definitely go out to see Gone Girl. Just don’t go alone if dark movies aren’t your usual cup of tea. They aren’t mine so I went with a friend and that was helpful because there was a scene that caused me to literally jump out of my seat.

If you want to know how it all ends, and trust me you do, go see Gone Girl. It’s an examination of the human mind that may make you question your faith in humanity. It’s up to you to restore it.