Glaciers

Well, I tend to add

To the evil

Might you be entertained

by my poem

Enabling the emotion

The feeling

Which of course

is nothing but a fleeting lie

for its inconsistent state

But I love painting the

Ballerinas in your mind

Might they twirl

And breathe

Blue lights

into your eyes

The truth hurts

a lot.

Rant. (A break from poetry)

I haven't written a rant in quite some time, and now after reading the news, I feel a couple of things stirring up inside of me that can only be relieved through writing.

Numero uno is that of Grades
What is everyone's obsession with grades? I say this in the context of when I'm reading a story about a child who was molested by someone they met on the internet, or someone who committed suicide the first thing the journalist will mention is, "_______ had straight A's and came from an upper-class family. Why on earth did this happen?"
Last time I check grades didn't exactly buy you circumstances or made sure you weren't subjected to life's tragedies. So why is this even mentioned? What significance is it that so and so had straight A's and their parents could afford this and that?
As we can clearly see it didn't buy them street smarts or happiness!
Do we as a society focus too much on grades, and their true meaning?
What should be mentioned when something of such horrific nature occurs is maybe that the person was a great painter, or musician, and how awful it is that another human being was harmed when they had so much to offer or didn't realize it in the first place.

It cheapens their 15 minutes of fame into a statistic. Numbing us as individuals, and reducing their death to that of a Halo 3 point system.
________ was struck down by __________.

Death is a cheap thrill in America.

Numero Dos: Bi-polar disorder, and ANY psychological disorder for Children.

Time, and time again our news is just plastered with numbers of the rising percentages of people being diagnosed and parents spending on things related to psychological disorders amongst children.
Am I the only one who realizes that the urbanization of our country just might have to do with the fact that little Jimmy in Kindergarten can't sit still?
That may be the fact Dear Mother provides endless amounts of processed foods, and television to said child might have an impact on their being as a whole...

What do I know right?

All I know is when I eat to much crap and lay around I notice I get a little wound tight...

I'm 19 years old for Pete's sake, are my high fluctuations of mood when I've consumed high amounts of sugar and caffeine put me in line for the bi-polar/add/ADHD train?

Maybe, if I get off my happy butt and run around for two hours I'll chill out?
MAYBE your child who has 10 times the amount of energy I can no longer dream of possessing needs that too?

Or, a quick attitude adjustment.
I'm not here to cheapen the psychological field, and I'm quite sure there are a few cases in which a child isn't in a normal state of consciousness. But, seriously people?
I find most of this to be the 'Blame Game.'

"Oh, my child has ADD so it isn't my fault when he is screaming and throwing a tantrum in the aisles of Target."

The responsibility of the parent has been shifted to that of the child, not even the child! But! the poor innocent creatures disorder.
Let's pop a pill to that!

Numero Tres: Facebook/Twitter/The internet/ Technology

I will be the first to state that I am a nerd, and LOVE technology.
Not many people know exactly what a GUI interface is, and why Mac is superior to Microsoft because of its formatting.
Anywho.

The real problem is the isolation of our communities.

Technology is slowing causing people to regress to an isolationist state.
Yes, you are now texting 20 people, and messaging 30 more on Facebook
But is this really communication?

Communication is body language and speaking.

The two can't exactly be separated...
So we have to try and provide an alternative to the batting of the eyelashes (so to speak) and create emoticons to provide some sort of clarification to what exactly we said.

At least on the telephone you hear voice inflection...
Now, I have to capitalize my words to make a strong statement.

This has reduced our conversations to be short, and sweet.

I think this is what has killed poetry honestly.

Poetry doesn't provide short cuts in its communication.

No 'LOL's' or 'BTW's' there...

I didn't sign up for a job with cubicles, but it seems the world is already assigning them anyway...



Rant over.

Untitled #21

All she had to latch on to was the things

She created

Nothing more than pious drama

That was doted on at every spare moment

I couldn't blame her

As she applied a layer of eyeshadow

To her already purple lined eye

Waiting for the call

Waiting to be wanted

Waiting for nothing

So I indulged her

Hoping my obvious state of superiority

Wouldn't leak through my smile

I hated myself for this

But it gets harder every day

When I'm realizing

That spilled milk

Is meant to be crying over

By those who can

Untitled #20

I was searching for some tragedy

To shoot up in my veins

My eyes to roll back

My blood to turn red

Hoping to act as a catalyst

A median in fact

That'll allow the relation

To Relate

Infiltrate the void

The cliches' we hold dear

Might my existence

Be devastating

Enabling the healthy

To hear.

Untitled #19

We all come to that point

When insanity is no longer

Our comfort blanket

The iniquities of the world

aren't blamed on the Devil

Starting to realize this

Invidious wave eroding away

The most pleasant little beauties

We know

Might our oceans submerge that last

Bit of paradise

Causing everyone to actually love

And realize

That abnegating oneself

Is more than a blank check

Untitled #18

Sometimes it gets hard to espy,

but the killer of me never wanted me to die.

Blinding me never altered my cry

The iniquity of my sorrow

Well it gets harder to convey

Continually trying to demolish

The hearts that tell of today

Impossible is the sword

Above the walk way

On the Arch

That as much as I turn

It won't rip open my heart