Final (other poem- Irish curse)

To the lady in the food industry who banished us from her diner

I hope you get eaten by a carnivore.
And be denied food when you wanted more.
May you find a ticking bomb in your bed,
And may you find your mother lying dead

May you get in a car accident on the highway
After you are all alone on St. Valentines Day.
And may you lose your dog at a park,
And get eaten by a big white shark.

I hope fall head first into a well,
And be crying as you make your way to hell.
May you swallow a fly when you ride your bike,
And be around too many people you really don’t like.

You’re an evil, evil lady, I thought you should know
Me and my friends will never ever let it go.
You’ll be a story told at every party we attend
And may it be your down fall, your bitter end

Final (other poem)

The days are getting longer
And I need to get out of the quick sand.
I’ve been sinking, and sinking,
For the last four years, and it’s
Time for the final stretch.

The tippy top of my head is sticking
Out of the debris, and it’s the last chance
To escape. I’ve packed my bags, and
My toothbrush is waiting patiently
On top of the sink. It’s the last thing to pack.

My escape plan has been finalized
And when the first ray of light
Shines through my window in the morning,
I won’t be there to see it.

And I will pass the high school, and
I will not turn back.
And I will pass the corner pizzeria, and
I will not turn back.

And I will pass your house, and
I will think about you thinking about me,
And I will not turn back.

And I will think about you staring outside your
Window waiting for me to appear outside
Like when we were kids. But you and I

Both know that those times are done, and
You and I both know that even though
I will think about turning back, I won’t

Do it because even though you are slowly
Sinking into the quick sand of the small
Town lifestyle, I have found away out,
And it’s in Los Angeles.

Final (sonnet)

The morning sunlight comes through the wind pane.
She rolls out of bed after a long night out.
Walking to the sink, she thinks about the rain.
Brush in mouth, she could have lounged about.
Looking for socks, she thinks about the snow.
Pouring coffee, she could’ve gotten frostbite.
Read the funnies, she does not really know
Look for keys, what excuse will she recite?
Stumble to the car, I’m too tired, yo.
Cruise down the highway, she dreads what might occurred
Mosey out of the car, should I have inferred.
Drag my feet to the door of the school
Maybe I should just forget about the cruel
Nothing could be worse than the day before

Final (villanelle)

Let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made,
And we should dance with the trash left out on the street
Running through the night, maybe we were too afraid

To make some lemonade,
Out of burned out dreams and smelly lunchmeat.
Let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made.

We should take this song, that has been overplayed,
And the remembrance of the past and make it sweet.
Running though the night, maybe we were too afraid

To rebuild this burned down arcade
That’s hidden in the shadows the backstreet.
Let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made.

Sprinting down the boulevard, tossing hand grenades
Over our shoulders, our worn down sneakers were hitting the concrete.
We thought; let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made.
Running through the night, maybe we were too afraid.

FInal Project Proposal

For my end of the year project. I want to write one (or two if I have time) short stories about music videos. I have yet to pick the song/s, but that will be the first step. I really liked write a short story about the music video that we did in the beginning of the year so I really want to do another one. The end.

villianelle

Let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made,
And we should dance with the trash left out on the street
Running through the night, maybe we were too afraid

To make some lemonade,
Out of burned out dreams and smelly lunchmeat.
Let’s make something beautiful with the mess we’ve made.

We should take this song, that has been overplayed,
And the remembrance of the past and make it sweet.
Running though the night, maybe we were too afraid

To rebuilt this burned out arcade


(not completed....)