HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SISTER MUSE- you are 21, gorgeous!!

Well here we are, a year past- time has bled

Once again 'tis your day, Anna B. Liv-

Different yet all the same. What can be said

for peace and progress- what does a year give?

Unfortunately all things are not good

And this one night of the year marks again

whence the leering visage of finals stood

trying to barricade beauty and zen

But your 21st, it can't be suppressed

You my darling, you shall celebrate to

Soul's invigorating intoxicating zest

Wishing a beautiful day, babes, to you.

And the most colorful, magical year

To the girl with the words and the sad smile

perpetually dancing on mountaintops clear

Writing world's eulogy on bittersweet isle

She's poetry herself in brilliant flight

Spreads beating wings to our bright universe

In perfect harmony she tells of the fight

The turvy-topsy tale of life; our gift, our curse.

She spreads happiness over golden lands

I love you- always-

we need some adventure, take hold my hand.

<3

p.s. 

Would it be too much of an ambition

to make the birthday sonnet a tradition? ;)

she's the music

The 9-foot grand hangs suspended from titanium wires, a hundred feet above the mountain's crest. She stands with her hands lifted skyward, stretching her arms, back arched, watching the spectacle through squinting eyes as the sun pierces the sky in kaleidoscopic prisms. She sees it through till its gentle landing in the tufty alpine grass, meditating a gleaming sort of wonder, that two of the most beautiful things can exist in a single dimension at a single time. She pulls up the lopsided piano bench, smiles the most fundamental thank you to the person behind the wheel as the engine speeds away, and lowers her hands to the keys.

She closes her eyes as Chopin springs back to life, as the time is counted by the music- midday, beating sun to late afternoon to a violet sunset- and the Schumann concerto ushers in the stillness of dusk. The music is vitality, it shimmers, sparkles, shouts, speaks true conviction as words can't, and she narrates what it is to be alive from atop the mountain, and she is vitality, and the music is her.

you win some; you lose some

Since when do I savor
the curling smoke of a passing cigarette?

Momentarily relive the grimy charm of
Vans Warped Tour
and revel in it- just a smell?

My stomach in knots
My disposition, turbulent

Why am I always so turbulent?
Why am I passionate to the brink of chaos?

Sometimes I can't stand it.

Words burn in my mind
Why do I share my essence of self so
freely
when Social Construction dictates
I lie?

yes, I'm mad
so mad, I'm boiling
yet so tragically sad
tragically confused
Wait- but why then am I mad

Maybe I could handle saying
the words if I
got an apology first
Either way I'm an eternal fool
Who am I to embrace something
I know is true?

Happy 22nd to a girl of the universe- and thanks, also, for our beautiful friendship

Can I manage a few lines of magic?

Could they ever glimmer vitality

as the refracting moments, elastic

that we share in dramatic alacrity?

We embody a world we create

a winking kaleidoscope encompassing

Our wild dreams, free thoughts, true peace, soul mates

Save we have no compass, we're left puzzling

over smiles and blue summer dresses

At tea with fine china, I knock over

My cup and saucer, we laugh at the mess

A hundred years back in fields of clover

We whistle now in the great wilderness

From the depths of our being we proclaim

A tale of unimaginably vigorous

adventure: peace, love, happiness aflame

While you, my dear, suffer most beautifully

Because you are so inherently good.

You, a world in your own rite, truly

Soul, gem, waterfall, in perfection stood

We whistle and sing, as we always will

In dazzling conviction- You are my kindred spirit

and I love you like I love the mountains, till

time stops, but even then, without limit-

Happy happy birthday, Amara, my brilliant friend!

Here's to a year all the best- to discover, explore, transcend.

To a year of luck, happiness, prosperity, growth, truth, friendship, love, and of course, always, vitality. <3

energy

and then

from the telling words in a little 

book

of inspiration

I learned that energy explains everything.

Thoughts- 

mine and yours

are energy, but light and air.

and so are feelings

and so therein they are subject to change

but everything we hope to 

aspire now or ever

will manifest first as a thought

an idea

a colorful shaded tangential manifestation

a thing that has the force to

change everything

Light up the world

clear your soul

You just have to let it.

I laugh, but in admiration

The kid walks up to the projector in his baggy t-shirt and glasses, staggers to a halt at the front of the classroom, looks confidently toward the board.

He points definitively at the shape, and says matter-of-factly

This is a piece of Pizza
Here's the crust
(as he rushes excitedly for the words, running out of breath)
and this
(the square)
is the pineapple
and these
(the triangles)
are the pieces of
Canadian bacon.

But you need to describe it in terms of shapes, the teacher scolds wearily.

That's true. But I cling to the hope
that minds like this will not be tamed,
for it's apparent to me
that ideas drive progress
and that the creative perception
of a single third-grader
can contribute greatly to that
so-often elusive quality
the Good.

a quick note just to tell you

You are sunshine.
You are the rolling pastures
prelude to the mountains
And as we ride our bicycles
over the dirt path
Sunflowers brushing 'gainst
our bare arms
your silver bracelets jangle
the wind chimes.

You are this perfect day
and when the moonlight falls
you will be the solace of the night.

Finding Tranquility

She didn't know how long she rode on that bus, on a cracked upholstered seat, because a few glimpses through the hazy window lulled her into a delicate sleep. She woke at the jolt of the brakes, as by the pinnacle of clockwork, although it was the only stop.

She murmured a thank you to the passivity of the driver and stepped into the cloud of fog blanketing the rain-trodden earth.

She sat by the river, contemplating the face of abstraction that is the world, as the mist clung heavily to the air and the rain began to fall through the ethereal screen that separated the seen from the unseen, the known from the unknown, the felt and the sensed, and she clung wildly to her dreams manifested in the peace around her, the solace of that spirited place.

There was an infectious energy that she knew to be that spark of vitality, she could feel her own natural inclination toward ease, in being in tune with the subtle act of living, so blatantly passionate in its subtlety, and it was a dream, and she was finally right.

People

Why are people so hopelessly restrained
Giving meaningless justifications
as if all our prior words have been feigned
Flaming my temper, trying my patience

Why do they retreat into their dark caves
Hiding from the grand adventure that 'waits
It's too risky to live; to love, to be brave
So they trounce inspiration, beckon fate

They paint in rosy hues but see in gray
Flatten their 'dentities, become living ghosts
Live for one and throw the world away
Lose the mountain key when hope is very most

Life's too short to live in passionate lack
Throw yourself out there and the world comes back.