He was...

The guy who was annoying,

audacious,

the guy that I used to depict

so clearly.

Now is fading away.

I had an inkling that I liked him,

but now I rebuke him.

He was rude,

and a slovenly little kid.

He was a

lacking, lackadaisical lackey,

whenever I think about

that menace to society.

I bet he pilfered from everyone,

time, love, friendship.

Great, I lost a whole year of life,

definitely not conscientious.

As I embarked on a journey called

"Surviving School,"

a profuse number of times,

I tried to help him

stuck on his notebook.

Trying to create a serene environment,

so that he wouldn't be distracted.

He rankled me each day,

"retard" "stupid" "ugly"

"go to 'em stupid"

Self-absorbed,

never self-conscious,

always attempted to be prudent.

And always failing.

I can't recall if the teacher

ever confiscated anything.

I didn't meet his father

but I assumed he wasn't a

mutiny like his son.

He was the heart of evil.

See Ya, Wouldn't Wanna Be Ya

See ya suckers,

Gotta stay in this crappy

thing they call a school.

I get to leave

this retarded dorm...

in fact the whole school.

Not surprising though or

the first time either.

I bet people in

shows like The OC

don't have weird dorms.

Actually they don't even

live in the dorms.

Ackley kid (my roommate) is staying,

with his mossy and

horrible teeth.

"I wasn't too crazy

about the guy"

Old Spencer wanted a goodbye,

his bathrobe strung my eyes.

Put some clothes on man,

you're burning my eyes

with a ratty bathrobe

and a cough medicine stench.

The rustle of papers

falling from his grasp, onto the floor.

This is the fourth

school I flunked,

but I don't care.

See ya suckers!

Remember Me?

Sophie Kinsella overflows emotion in Remember Me? This is the story of a young woman who has had the worst day of her life. She’s outside of a bar, her boyfriend stood her up while she’s waiting for her ride, and everyone has gotten a bonus at work. (To show the financial year was better than expected.) However she didn’t get the bonus due to lack of qualification…missing one week of work. Everything has gone downhill until it gets even worse. As she hails a taxi and tries to get its attention from other customers; she slips on her cheap boots down stairs. The next thing she knows she’s in a hospital bed…three years into the future! From the old crappy life to the glamorous life of being skinny, rich, and having a wonderful husband…but is it really the dream life?

Remember Me? is a story with drama and comedy that will get you hooked in. Alexis (Lexi, the protagonist) has a bumpy life ahead of her after skipping three years of her 20’s (no one wants to miss those years) and can’t remember a thing in between. She’s now skinny, rich, with a great husband…and a secret affair? Last thing she remembers was being called “Snaggle-Tooth” and having the worst job in history. But when she wakes up, not only is she stuck with the life “Lexi” created, she’s nicknamed “The Cobra” for being snappy and a “bitch-boss-from-hell” from her friends…or should I say old friends. In three short years, her life has completely changed, she owns a gorgeous car, she lives in a huge house and it should be a perfect life. Her husband is perfect but doesn’t consider her feelings; on the other hand Jon (she was having an affair with) cares for her, but refuses to continue until they have something to link them together…a memory. This book is something you will NOT want to put down until you’ve finished, I’m not saying its short (389 pages) but it’s packed with juicy conflicts and emotional scenes that’ll kick the night raw.

My Brother

is a sheep, a boxer dog,
a lion in a jungle.
The dragon in the cave,
the phoenix in the sky,
the monkey in the trees.

He’s the quarterback of the football game,
the star of the show,
the host of the game,
and the con-artist at the gas station.

He’s the con-artist,
and yet he blurts opinions out
bluntly.

He believes in having fun,
loitering around the mall, doing nothing
at home, but he still finds the stairs
ascending to the sky.

Small words can turn into
funky colors of all shapes,
simple pencils and pens can turn
sharp and bouncy.

He taught me to keep going,
to keep treading in water,
to listen to his suggestions,
to watch him be a narcissist.

Because of him I lock
the emotions deep,
turn them into writing and there
I long for when I can tell you
lots.

Rerun

I get home and I do my homework, like always. The kitchen door is open, the windows are open and covered with a thin layer of cloth, the coffee table is full of junk that I haven’t used for a while, and my desktop is waiting for me to use it like again. The drawer full of discs opens with a small pull, and magically I see a whole world made of movie cases and discs. I take one while I linger around to see the back, is it good? Will it be enough to please me? Can this also be another favorite? The DVD player works it’s magic, and just like pop goes the weasel the disc chamber opens…waiting for its command. A smile comes across my face while I place the unscratched disc into the chamber entrance. Up goes the TV, and down goes the watcher onto the couch.

The scenes pass one by one and I watch like an owl watches its prey. "The End" comes onto the screen and yet the movie plays again. I laugh with an affable smile and watch the interminable movie until I run out of time. Yes, I like to watch reruns again and again. Even I don’t know what impels me to watch them again. My brother goes on a tirade asking how I can watch it so many times even though I already know what happens. It’s fun to watch them even if you’re bored; once you watch it for the first time you can skip to your favorite scenes. I think it also makes you feel better when you're despondent, reruns may take up time and may get boring, but it doesn't mean that they aren't as good as the first time you watch a movie.

The Sage

All the kids screamed out of delight “Yay! Its break time!” The grass was glittering with dew, the sun shone high and the snow covered what looked like grass. The kids were herded bad to the classroom. Time moved slowly with the ticking of the clock, the moving of pencils, and the crying of kindergarteners at the lunch table. I might have been a recluse when I first moved to Macedonia, but then a sage came and spoke wise words. The words reverberated in my head and eventually I made great friends.

The day ends with shouts from teachers, “It’s the last day of school so quickly get in your bus or cars!” The cars start moving along the pavement, bus doors slam shut…oh wait, there was only one bus. Then things went amiss. My teacher the one who taught me the first grade closed the bus door. I waved goodbye, no respond but footsteps fading away. What had happened impelled me to question her actions. Did she see me? Did she ignore me? Was I abhorrent to her? The questions were interminable, until I came to a profound conclusion. Oh…maybe she hates me! Today was the last day of school! How could you not wave goodbye on the last day? I became despondent and said to myself “She just didn’t see it.” trying to comfort myself. (I know, pathetic right?)

I just thought that I’d never see her again, she was always nice and positive even though my class only had four people. (Including me.) It was a fun year, she was an affable person. She wasn’t irascible, she never had to entreat anyone in class and I just wanted to sum it up with a nice goodbye…I suppose I should’ve said goodbye before it was time to leave. Even though I eventually got over it, it haunted me to the very last minute it could. Like a tirade given by some guy I didn’t even know, and my tremulous arms were at my side. Yes…I don’t like it when I can’t say goodbye or when others don’t say goodbye, that’s just part of who I am.

Karma is Life

The tearful thoughts,

the bottle is empty,

the hearts aren't pumping,

the family tree is shattered,

the tears are landing.

Life's not fair,

karma's a bitch...

what have I done?

The memory of the digital camera

is blank,

the slates are black

and the rims are colorful.

The mind is blank,

pictures in my father's room

spark my curiosity.

Who were they?

What were they like?

Were they nice?

When will they come visit?

Never...

Though my dad knew them,

I sure didn't,

my dad always refers to them.

"My dad worked really hard.

My mom made better sticky rice,

it was delicious."

13 years of life

with pictures.

No white hair,

no greeting,

no saying "hi grandma and grandpa"

just a life

of sorrow,

of regret to be born sooner,

the crying, choking Clementine calls them forth,

with a boo who

but no answer...

This is dedicated to the grandparents I never got to meet.