The Ice Inside your Soul


When the civil rights movement was under way one woman, Rosa Lee Parks, was doing something she found to be a normal and necessary part of her day- riding the local bus. In the same way that William Palmer found going to the church in Russia to be normal and furthermore necessary in his journey, she went along her day until something changed it and her life forever. Rosa Lee is remembered and known by so many people as someone who started the fuel behind the civil rights movement. She was asked to give up her seat on the bus because of the color of her skin and rightfully so in those times, for African Americans were not allowed to sit in the front of the bus. By taking a stand, she perhaps did not realize that what she was doing what an existential visit of her mind and thereby subconsciously as well as literally saying “I count as a human being as much as anyone else on this darn bus and my being black has nothing to do with the way you behave towards me”.  It is difficult to imagine that someone would have to question who they are in such a profound manner because of the ignorance of others. It is perhaps shocking for us in the 21st century to think that just because of skin color one would be shunned, displaced, and furthermore considered less a person than anyone else. On this Earth we as humans do not have to like one another, but we do have to respect one another in order for the world to not fall into utter chaos. It is such a tiny thing to ask for but in the case of the civil rights movement, people were swept away by the simple color of one’s skin as thus had bitter, black hearts when it came to African Americans. To this day racism thrives in the minds of the ignorant, who fear others that are different than them. William Palmer was also disliked (though  not on the same scale) because he was Catholic was denied communion and through themes of religion discussed the profound effect that had upon him.

The diction of this essay is quite formal with sentences such as “George Horsley Palmer, and Archdeacon Palmer of Oxford, was one of those earnest-minded and devout men, forty years since, who, deeply convinced of the great truth that our Lord had instituted, and still acknowledges and protects, a visible Church—one, individual, and integral—Catholic, as spread over the earth.” (Newman). The words “earnest-minded and devout men” are only a sample of the formal diction that goes on throughout this essay. The essay is one about attempting to join churches so it makes perfect sense that the form would be an essay that Cardinal Newman wrote about William Palmer and his epic journey to Russia. Palmer discovers the Russians resistance and utter despising of him and his methods. It is an essay displaying what a down to earth honestly good human being Palmer is and how one piece of you does not make up your entire identity although the Russians felt that if you were Catholic you were not one of them.

“How Mr. Palmer’s appeal for such recognition of our “Anglo-Catholicism” was met by the ecclesiastical authorities of Petersburg is the main {viii} subject of this volume,” (Newman) is the content of this essay. In the way that Rosa Lee Parks was met by opposition Palmer was denied communion, which is the most sacred part of mass. He wants desperately to be recognized by the church however the Russians say “We know nothing about Unity, nothing about Catholicity; it is no term of ours; it had indeed a meaning once, it has {x} none now. Our Church is not Catholic, it is Holy and Orthodox; also”(Newman) … They are completely serious in their convictions and beliefs that not only will they deny him communion, but never will the two churches have even a faint chance of being united for they know nothing about unity. Their stubbornness is understandable but the way in which they receive Mr. Palmer is unacceptable and cold. They treat him horrible and our author cannot help himself but gush over what a wonderful person Mr. Palmer is.  The tone is straight forward explaining to us about Mr. Palmer troubles.

It is an intricate, complex topic and it is one that is always met with resistance. One’s sexual orientation, skin color, or religion are often brought into question and I believe that the things that people cause us to consider to change about ourselves is often the most interesting thing about of you. In life we are plagued by people daily who are trying to change that interesting part or part that makes us unique and stand out from the pack. Newman eloquently describes it as “at least part of that ancient teaching which they so proudly claimed as their own peculiar prerogative.” In the end I would say to them, “Who do you think you are? Running around leaving scars? Collecting your jar of hearts? You’re going to catch a cold from the ice inside your soul.” This line from a popular song by Christina Perri illustrates my point beautifully. Those in the Russian church, or even those attempting to stop Rosa Lee from getting her seat on the bus are going to do just that, catch a cold from all the negatively that they are spreading. Cardinal Newman and William Palmer understood that it was in fact too much to ask those individuals to change what is in their souls. However, they did become friends and “In consequence of this mutual good understanding, Mr. Palmer made many friends in Russia, and had no reason to regret his going there. He liked the people and country, and returned there again and again;” So really, despite the differences the theme here although the church could not be unified is unity of people.

(Thinking of him, It’s) Burning Fires


Agony pain burning fires
In my brain
In my body
In my heart
I can’t put the fire out
Water doesn’t work
I thought I could drown it in tears
I thought I could suffocate it
With my sweater
But instead
It suffocates me.
Smoke, fire, flames bursting through my heart.
Suddenly an explosion.
My heart’s a million tiny pieces
Shattered, scattered.
I finally put the fire out
Superhuman strength appears
Strong resolve to survive
but the damage of the fire
It is overwhelming
It’s burning pain I can still feel
The shock of the smoke
Collapses my lungs
The sadness of joy turned into sparks
Sparks of absolute agony
The fire was uninviting
Truly it was the deepest level of hell
I felt pain in places I didn’t know I could
Now the charred remains will get off this train
After class
After talking to Ethan
After help from Heidi
After wisdom from Janet and Glendalyn
After tea with Bella
I walk to go shower
My charred self
Recovering what I can
Abandoning the rest
And recalling how high the flames got

And praying that no one can hurt me that deeply again…
Knowing they could.
Off to shower, drink coffee and pretend everything is fine.
Until it is.

Thank you for being so small, but doing so much


Oh, rusty rotten nail
The Christmas lights you once thrust
Into delight
The ones that gleamed and sparkled late into the night
Your job of holding up joy and nostalgic memories had ceased
Your need has decreased
But your value is not lost
On the pure white column
You were hammered into
A sickening orange glows
Into the earth you go
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Thank you for being so small
But doing so much



I clean my room
Every single paper and piece I’m going through
As I listen to snow patrol
I realize
I’m unplugged
Unplugged from the ball and chain
That is my cell phone relationship
I should do this more often
It’s not staring at me
Swallowing my time
Sucking the life out of me
I feel so much calm
When I’m

Quote for the Day


“Poetry means being kind and unbiased to everyone – even the devil himself. Because where you find God you are not more than a crawl away from Satan. Using words we can judge that distance.” -Author unknown

Who I am to humanity


Someone who cries and yells frequently, a lot

Someone whose blood is a boiling pot

Someone transfixed with what’s not

I’m violent

I’m bossy, mean

Obsessed with homework,

What I can’t have

I, selfish

I cry myself to sleep

I’m hypersensitive

Agreeing to anything is a leap

If someone screams not a peep

From me that is

You see my feeling big as the sky

Shoot them down with your hunting rifles of words

I just let the harsh remarks fly

Inside I die

I spy

I comply

I buy it

Buy into the lies

I’m a racist and a feminist though no one knows why

I’m incapable of love

I am scared of everything

I can’t sing

I’m Polish but too prou-

Wait slow down

Erase all that

Scratch it out

Burn it so I can feel the affectionate flames that compel me-

I want the ashes of the troubled “perceptions of me by humanity”

Burning in the fiery pits of hell!

This is who I really am

(No rhyme this time)


The complete truth

A hopeless romantic,

Who is thus romantically hopeless

I am assertive

No one will be walking all over

Me with their stinky shoes

In fact no one can touch me

Unless well, let’s see

I let them.

Maybe I can’t perform so well

But my memory bank for music and theater

Is phenomenal, swell

I love movies and music and fine dining as well

I am tolerate of all races, religions

I am concerned for the future of the world

I care for others more than myself

I’m a very Polish girl

Loves to see the sun swirl

I’m not afraid of everything

I love nature, simple things

But I’m scared of

Planes, trains

Stalkers, heights

And anything that bites

I fall asleep to my i-pod

Not tears

I’m incapable but of being loved in return which I guess is worse

I don’t buy the hype

I’m not that type

Of Woman

I’m passionate about my hobbies

I have a deep love for the world,

But am on occasion cynical

But Mostly I’m Maria.

I’m completely unsystematic and sometimes nerve wrecking.

I am what I want to be and no one or anything else.

I’m appreciating things while you still can.

This is who I am

Face it embrace otherwise

Turn around and walk away



We have to earn our keep. Keep changing, rearranging, loving, learning, crushing, turning, spinning, frying, trying, multiplying, and eventually dying. Eventually we just had our turn. That is why we make the most of every day. Do what you what. Go the extra mile. Choose your destination, your season of love. Choose what you want to wear who you want to become. Choice is very powerful, and dangerous. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and stagger ahead into the unknown.

Judge Me


<revisting high school ponderings>

no matter
where you go where you are
people are judging you
your clothes
your make up
your hair
your purse
everything is being analyzed before
you even speak to the person
i noticed as i went to shake someone’s hand
i already judged them as a jock
because they were built and wearing Abercrombie
i thought was not so judgmental
but as the day wore on
i figured out even if I never said it
I was.

And that sucked.
Now when people JUDGE ME
I get mad but realize i was judging the person
next to them anyway

I’m trying to figure out
why we judge people
and why some things get in the
way of ever knowing someone