So long since I've posted. It is very late, so it will be a quick post tonight. More explanation on my haitus later. Enjoy.


Unproclaimed Idol


Ignored as a child,
Forgotten as a woman.
No one noticed as she
Cried and ran.
She cried and ran
To a place as soft as satin
And as beautiful as lace.
Whatever she did no one did know,
Exept for the the penguins and little eskimos.
They stood and stared,
As she wrestled with loneliness,
That she defeated with dreams and hopes
Of something never before seen by us.

Heartbrokenly, she ran to this land,
Away from society and from all man.
The snow painfully melted from the warmth in her tears,
Of the repudiation of civilization for many years.
Then she rose as a beauty, so noble in passion,
That no one could turn away
From this new kind of fashion.
Millions flocked just to see what would happen
When the silence was broken by a tawdry laughing.
Then a man proclaimed with an aghastic tone,
"Tis just a boring girl, leave her alone."
So the crowd disassembled and went on with their affairs
And never bothered the girl for many more years.


This poem was written in my biology class, my sophmore year in highscool. It was one of my first few poems. I got the inspiration from a guy named Jim Ed(a name he made up for himself), who sat a couple seats behind me. He penned, on a torn piece of paper, a picture of a beautifully morbid stick figure standing in front of an igloo. The whole scene was baren and sad. Expereincing the picture was like waking up on a dewey winter morning only to discover that everything around you had died. At the same time, however, feeling a very peaceful calm. A fresh breath, a new begining almost. During my highschool years I watched MTV, and this was about the same time they started to change their structure and style more towards reality television instead of Music television. The stick figure symbolized the true talent that the world (ran by things like MTV) take and break, almost beyond repair, for the simple purpose of making a quick buck. They use the meek and peaceful talents as symbols of how real things could be if these big corporations didn't control almost everyone's lives. They use the symbols as expendable Jesus' and idols, to just throw them into dark, cold depressions of shock and exhaustion when the people start to discover that the idols are real human beings and not gods. I got the will of inspiration to write when the teacher took the picture from me as I was looking at it and then tore it to pieces. I was enraged. She tore up my first moment of truth to study phrases and words of things I still have never used my entire life. I, unfortunatly, believe I became a brilliant mind ruined by education, a.k.a. The System. As for Jim Ed, he walked out of class that day and never returned. Last I heard, he moved to California, but I dought he is still there. He was and always will be like the wind; free, invisible, yet influental.