tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47274390489195949872024-03-07T21:37:21.225-08:00Make BelievingsSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-89685253155448123622012-11-25T21:17:00.000-08:002012-12-03T17:01:26.048-08:00nesting our way to reach airplane wings<br />
don't know where we're going, hope<br />
it's far away<br />
<br />
life streaming in holusbolus<br />
don't mind the sun's glare, he's always been<br />
on a warpath of coveting the livingSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-25351978814962259982012-10-20T22:12:00.001-07:002012-10-20T22:12:53.570-07:00Uncertain lonelyUntil I remember you<br />
have gone. To find<br />
Somebody new. Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-74331564498651661722012-10-20T20:41:00.005-07:002012-10-20T20:41:49.505-07:00a richness of marten,<br />
an obstinacy of buffalo,<br />
a romp of otters,<br />
and a shrewdness of apes<br />
<br />
a listing of numbers,<br />
a listing of beats,<br />
a listening of <br />
<br />
lost sometimes in the dark conventions of a heart<br />
<br />
S - a Capricorn,<br />
I - a Taurus,<br />
J - a Gemini,<br />
Tyler's a Virgo<br />
<br />
[M - a Pisces, but only just; C - an Aquarius]<br />
<br />
thinking about how I always loved you<br />
and never in the way you wantedSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-84773598184947884222012-10-20T20:40:00.002-07:002012-10-20T20:40:36.497-07:00You're hard to run withtelltale, my pulse in my fingertips<br />
buryable and shot with sienna shot<br />
with bittersweet blush<br />
<br />
giveaway widened eyes<br />
eyebrows high before you can slow<br />
them up, slow them cool<br />
<br />
toes tapping typewriter time<br />
tossing rhythm about, a plaything, the running cadence<br />
of your breath, of your bloodbeat, of pavement underfoot<br />
<br />
we can't see past the pathway bends<br />
and I don't feel compelled to know<br />
this time<br />
<br />
<br />Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-54322279418359399192012-10-20T20:36:00.002-07:002012-10-20T20:36:53.040-07:00Friday Rosea young man gave me a rose (on Friday)<div>
after the laughingest time I'd had with him</div>
<div>
<i>it's going to die, anyway</i> he muttered (as an excuse,</div>
<div>
as an introduction) to the rose</div>
<div>
<i>everything dies</i> was my consolation in exchange</div>
<div>
it's the best flower I've ever been given</div>
<div>
made sweet not by scent but by</div>
<div>
lack of expectation, </div>
<div>
lack of anticipation,</div>
<div>
the goodness-just-for-goodness that was</div>
<div>
his motivation</div>
<div>
I perched it in a teacup in the windowsill at home</div>
<div>
</div>
Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-62678914039284177022012-09-12T22:31:00.003-07:002012-09-12T22:31:48.043-07:00For ConsiderationJust some things to think about, not really poetry, but still material:<br />
I guess everyone needs validation, but compliments from you are a special treat.<br />
Everyone wears pajamas at some point, so equality.<br />
Journals are even an unfair account, because you cannot possibly write down everything, and also they can be self-conscious, although they shouldn't be. Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-60068295522582297932012-08-14T13:35:00.004-07:002012-08-14T13:35:56.749-07:00Fragile #2here we have the mystery of flamingos<br />
a half-way love far in Germany<br />
and the pleasant scent of lemon<br />
all balancing precariously on the very tip of my tongue<br />
I don't know which direction to push Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-42421793491730628292012-08-11T19:46:00.004-07:002012-08-11T19:46:46.968-07:00Fragile #1there is a certain symmetry<br />
approached-but-not-limited-by<br />
butterfly wings,<br />
egg yolks,<br />
and sailors<br />
a delicate/filmy/encompassing symmetry<br />
<br />Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-34769846246307137502012-07-27T13:59:00.001-07:002012-07-27T13:59:30.558-07:00Fragile #4I can't feel my toes when I run in snow<br />
but my lungs come alive<br />
and my heart glows in my breath<br />
I think that's all that mattersSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-6786135878976396832012-07-27T13:54:00.003-07:002012-07-27T13:58:29.301-07:00Sandmaybe I like to walk on sand for the glow that uncertainty gives me<br />
the smallest grains of stone slipping away beneath my feet<br />
maybe I am tired of being so certain<br />
soft imprints on a beach full of cutting shells, broken glass, nigh-perfect smoothed rocks<br />
you can't tell what kind of footprints, only that something walked there <br />
the one who holds certainty for everyone<br />
not made inconsequential by the size of the grains<br />
well, have <b>you</b> ever tried to sweep away the beach<br />
small things don't make lesser problems<br />
and I've tried being the uncertain one [ha.]<br />
the same way tides wash away marks, the place my trust should be<br />
fills in with sand and weltschmerz<br />
[a word which here stems from<br />
strain forever placed on the reflexive<br />
persuasion, unflinching assurances,<br />
like a muscle taxed too long in one hold,<br />
afforded to those surrounding me] <br />
credit is due, because twice or thrice I have<br />
let my hidden guards down to be met with a cradle<br />
high-beach sand, dry, packed, purified by wind, steadied by grasses <br />
safety net cradling a line, It Will Be Okay<br />
brief respites of rest to re-center, re-cross, re-construct<br />
splinters of time where I can balance on the shifting ground of<br />
support that is almost sufficient<br />
an almost-perfect spiral shell, a sad surprise of blackened sea creature<br />
more often I hold myself<br />
caught with the knowledge that best is sometimes not enough<br />
making me remember to keep pushing<br />
so much like playing tag with the tideSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-50375798238515460182012-07-27T13:51:00.001-07:002012-07-27T13:51:34.783-07:00it's always this choice, the same<br />
there will be no dodging<br />
there is a tantalizing bribery of natures<br />
to be presented at the end<br />
sweeten your disposition to sweeten the deal<br />
selling out for a lack of danger<br />
exactly the size for folding in of selves<br />
an implosion of valueSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-63297233499084865142012-07-10T17:03:00.000-07:002012-07-10T17:04:50.516-07:00Utah landscapeslavender fields<br />
<br />
shimmery-salt-dirty lake<br />
<br />
golden stubble acres strewn with cows/llamas/sheep/horses<br />
<br />
sagebrush studded <br />
brown dirt <br />
desert juniper blessed miles<br />
hills<br />
<br />
Utah lake, Utah cloudscapes,<br />
inescapable sunset eyecandy<br />
<br />
blue, bluest blushing brilliant<br />
sky, open freedom skies<br />
<br />
altogether a little<br />
raw around the edges<br />
and under the surfaces<br />
shooting raw into our<br />
hearts, our veins, wrapping<br />
wild around our spines<br />
<br />
dry dusted summer skin<br />
<br />
cool windy wild canyons<br />
<br />
lucid star slipstream towing a luminous hopeful moonSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-36055825282297170252012-07-10T16:44:00.001-07:002012-07-10T17:05:04.471-07:00Moore, OK, 2:30 AMtoo bright<br />
too <i>much</i> light<br />
asking unravelly yarn brain<br />
snagged on my request<br />
warm red winter sweater<br />
cold grey metal fence<br />
metal request<br />
trying to furnish warmth<br />
uncomfortable, itchy parallels <br />
<i>don't do this, don't just</i><br />
<i> no more patterns</i><br />
17 and never even ever<br />
wasting wishes on petty things<br />
war in the world and<br />
occupied with this?<br />
focus on this?<br />
<i>too much</i>. too much.Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-9830198328888979842012-06-26T11:54:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:54:01.865-07:00once upon a time<br />
(when you are swallowed by despair and exhaustion<br />
and stumble into waterflow)<br />
when you can't see because of dark and blurred extrapolations<br />
you will discover, perchance:<br />
<br />
when your ability to will<br />
yourself to stand is overshadowed by despair<br />
when your balance is broken<br />
down by the keen edge of too many hours alert <br />
you will lean into the tiled wall of your shower<br />
maybe you will slide down gently,<br />
(so-slight friction on so slick a surface)<br />
pretending that the wet on your face<br />
is water, just water, tap water<br />
maybe you will not<br />
maybe you will just stand<br />
an abject angle<br />
slowly carefully recovering<br />
because it is enough, a wall, <br />
enough to have learned the simple generosity<br />
the honest-undemanding support<br />
offered by a wall<br />
into which you are able to lean<br />
no questions or favors asked of youSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-24816089611770403902012-06-16T16:02:00.003-07:002012-06-16T16:02:56.831-07:00In the same vein:I feel whole,<br />
better,<br />
alltogether<br />
no wandering<br />
lost last pieces<br />
of me<br />
no chasing,<br />
no taming,<br />
no trying or timing<br />
<br />
<br />
right as rain<br />
bright like rainbow<br />
bowl balancing<br />
two feet down on the ground<br />
but head<br />
wrapped up in cool smooth clouds<br />
<br />Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-30650662500344656492012-06-16T14:39:00.000-07:002012-06-16T14:39:01.896-07:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“This is about my someday daughter, already stung stained with insecurity begging, ‘Mom, will I be pretty?’ I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap listick and answer, ‘No, the word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing, but, you will never be merely pretty."</span>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Katie Makkai</span>Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-85401330885525609352012-06-16T14:37:00.004-07:002012-06-16T14:37:40.392-07:00head tipped back<br />
hands wrapped around rope<br />
falling dreams<br />
and summer things<br />
sun/shade<br />
light/leaves<br />
metaphorically-allegorically<br />
and how I want eternitySunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-89626154547871180232012-06-16T14:32:00.000-07:002012-06-16T14:32:39.957-07:00the things I want to say are crowding hidden in the air<br />
hitting nerves and drawing sounds out<br />
like a tight-tuned tinker's toy piano<br />
and the beauty lost as fumbling past edges you glint on by<br />
and how the joy you feel is never more than the pain<br />
pain as currency, Pain as more alive<br />
living lies in lieu<br />
a debt we pay for happiness<br />
I will not shun the scythe<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></h4>Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-73436948067531992782012-05-10T22:08:00.000-07:002012-05-10T22:08:28.717-07:00Things To Read<i><br />
</i><br />
<a href="http://prosody.lib.virginia.edu/materials/poems/though-i-am-young-and-cannot-tell/" target="_blank">Though I am Young and Cannot Tell</a> -<i>Ben Jonson</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2010/08/05" target="_blank">Morning Song</a> -<i>Marcia F Brown</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/storm-72/" target="_blank">Storm</a><i> -Sally Plumb Plumb</i>Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-83147649514443125182012-04-30T09:13:00.003-07:002012-04-30T09:13:55.664-07:00two days in<br />
chin up, eyes down<br />
blink your eyes and<br />
do not miss her<br />
think of all the things you see<br />
when she gets back, we will take tea<br />
i am wide and narrow<br />
write to-do lists to stay slowSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-56474838937144330012012-04-30T09:11:00.001-07:002012-04-30T09:11:30.955-07:00The Picture of Dorian GrayThe studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.<br />
<br />
(an excellent way to start the first chapter)Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-46309867309942129972012-04-01T19:56:00.002-07:002012-04-01T19:56:38.535-07:00On Fri-the-day in Physics<br />
we spent all trying on movie scripts<br />
cutting them down, wrapping them around our calves like<br />
shin-guards, tight and vaguely reassuring<br />
And have I read it? just the first<br />
You tell me juice instead of grey<br />
I wish you best but do not say so<br />
<i>a woman makes a cup of her heart, </i>and in that way I hear<br />
how he came home to<br />
a surprise celebration of Gerald<br />
(tunes with mountains and bears)<br />
the hell's bells man, what a sweet sound<br />
they were<br />
some kind<br />
of astoundingSunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-29342613147599148502012-03-13T22:42:00.000-07:002012-03-13T22:42:13.824-07:00Ninoryck root we made sandwiches with our hair-<div>trickling braids-down-our-backs</div><div> no plant blocking sunlight</div><div> plugging lungs</div><div> licking egg-whites</div><div> lined up linoleum</div><div> lotion with lanolin stolen from lambs</div><div>lion-gold tresses dirtied yellow at the ends</div><div> (and I long for softrounded</div><div> pencil chalk draw-</div><div> ings oozing out ink</div><div> ink bred from sin)</div><div> dull knife pulling hand</div><div> slick snick-snaring mayonnaise </div><div>matching up with our very own teeth</div><div> we slept willy nilly king</div><div>-style medley up our dreams</div><div> with oil etchings</div><div>carving sweet ninoryck</div><div> (and it was a good breakfast</div><div> to be had at morning 12</div><div> knowing like the moon did</div><div> that for a dance of wheels</div><div> a crown may glow)</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-34914376741266670742012-02-23T22:04:00.000-08:002012-02-23T22:04:09.925-08:00Fibonacci and Why I Love WaldenThis is all old stuff. It was for a math final, of all things. <div><br />
</div><div> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>197</o:Words> <o:Characters>1124</o:Characters> <o:Company>Walden School</o:Company> <o:Lines>9</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>2</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>1380</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Psychoses</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Sleep</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Evades my grasp</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">I'm left to wonder and wallow</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">In my mind, echoes and hollow</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Mix together </div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Fuse</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Can't</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Place in order</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">My thoughts or things inside them now</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">I have to name the why and how</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Of things long since</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Gone</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Babylon</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Oh, Babylon</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Lush gardens soaking rooftop sun</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Rich markets trading silks, gold, silver, perfume, frankincense and myrrh</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Oh, Babylon</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">With secret riches gleaming</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">In your city streets so teeming with vibrant life and luxury</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Oh, Babylon</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">My heartstrings twang at thoughts of you</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">And the sorry ages that will pass after you are dry ruins</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Scribe</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Dark</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Dry and</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Welcoming,</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Empty passages</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Beckoning for me, papyrus</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Knowledge lining halls,</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Scrolls filed,</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Full of</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Lost</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Words</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Gang Rumble</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Midnights</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Aren't kind</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">To those who trade blood</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">To make a living, to survive</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Switchblades</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Flipping wide</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Spilling wet scarlet</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Onto rough, uncaring concrete</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Unheard</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Half-formed pleas</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Crying 'No, not me,'</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Ignored because they should have known</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Dreams</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">My fears</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Collected</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">In the air, condensed</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Congealed, and beat me into pulp</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">I lay suffocating on the ground as Hope looked on</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">She gave me a broken smile</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Getting into fights</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Wasn't her</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Style</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Fairy Tale</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Raven-black, snow-white, bloody red</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Princess hair, skin, lips</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">If she knew</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Would she</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Still</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Bite?</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;"><u>Saturday</u></div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Ann</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Broke up</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">With Markus</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Mint-cherry ice cream</div><div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">Chick flicks, used kleen-ex on the floor</div><!--EndFragment--></div>Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4727439048919594987.post-65124519298642080082012-01-29T15:54:00.000-08:002012-02-04T14:47:30.892-08:00KSFor K:<br />
<br />
As I was sitting,<br />
legs lotus-folded (like human origami)<br />
Listening to your message<br />
Thinking how your wry wit always<br />
sends trickles of glory into my laugh<br />
<br />
As I was listening,<br />
ears cold without the warmth<br />
Of your conversation to heat them<br />
I wished for your kind of company,<br />
like a museum in the rain<br />
<br />
And I was thinking<br />
I don't know what this means<br />
<br />
I was searching for evidence<br />
like a deaf man for music<br />
Or perhaps more like a dust mote<br />
looking for home<br />
<br />
Perhaps more like a map<br />
Embossed vellum with names of<br />
Places etched meaningfully<br />
With red dotted trails leading<br />
Looping and folding back into themselves<br />
Except the X is absent<br />
<br />
I was looking for meaning<br />
in the ideas we'd shared<br />
And here is the truth, I do not<br />
twinge with dolorousness<br />
I do not keep souvenirs of you<br />
<br />
You will find no evidence of the time<br />
(chalk-dusted fingerprints on cold glass)<br />
Spent with me until you<br />
(hush and behold the mystery)<br />
reach to discover moments<br />
(hidden and higher than most)<br />
Stacked tall in my memory<br />
(tip the shelves in the library, it all tumbles down)Sunshine Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02556458562078280663noreply@blogger.com1