When Everything Falls In Place

I once heard of a 20-year old Mayan man who was born deaf, never aware that there was such a thing as language. He lived his whole life in a murky daze, thinking that the movements people made with their mouths was some kind of alien way of communication they'd made. That day he realized the concept of language, that he'd lived nearly two decades in vain, he was moved, moved to tears.
            His story is the essence of life change. The way I imagine the man felt is the way I feel. Something that I thought made sense, I now realize was only a small piece of the truth. And now, the sun seems brighter. The songs seem livelier. And the smiles are happier.
            If only I'd known earlier, I think. But now that I know, this is the best feeling ever. And I'm glad I'm feeling it.

Bears & Chairs

There once was a girl named Claire,

Who loved to chew gummy bears,

One day a find,

She changed her mind,

And now she eats her chairs.

written December 18, 2007 for a Poetry Project

In Love with Lotion

There once lived a boy by the ocean,

Who daily applied his floral-y lotion,

It smelled of flowers,

To enhance his powers,

Causing girls to run with sickened emotion.

written on December 18, 2007 for a Poetry Project

Stalker

I know you know who I am.
I know that I don't know you.
And, you know what?
I trust and believe every word you've said.

And I know you don't want me to find out who you are,
But that's far from the truth.

And I bet,
You probably think the mystery of me not knowing who you are is me suffering,
slowly eating away at my curiosity and inquisitions.
But actually, to be quite frank, your identity is just kind of there.
Waiting to be revealed.
And I don't mind, if it takes its own sweet time.

I hope you know that.
No, I'm not that easy to string.
You won't leave me hanging, hungry - as you hide.
I know, time will tell.

Fleeting Feelings

Found Poem from Extremely Loud & Incredible Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

I didn't believe in things that couldn't be observed. I believe that things are extremely complicated.
I felt that night, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone.
I invented. I invented. The more I found, the less I understood.

If life was worth all the work it took to live, what exactly made it worth it?
A friction began to arise between Nothing and Something. We got worse, surrounded by Nothing.
The world is so big and small, in the same moment we were close and far.
How could such a lonely person have been living so close to me my whole life?

But I knew in the most protected part of my heart, the truth. It's simple, like a mountain is simple.
I want you to be happy, I want that more than I want happiness for myself, does that sound simple?
Anyway.

I am leaving. I turned around and walked away, I didn't look back, I won't.
I am gone, I am no longer here.

But now I am alive and I can't stop thinking about how I hadn't noticed before, even though I was trying as hard as I could to notice everything:
I'm Happy! That whole time I was happy!
And I could not believe I laughed. I had everything.

And the mistakes I made are dead to me. But I can't take back the things I never did.
I'll never write another word again.

With Love, Your Father. 

Written on January 5, 2010  for an Independent Reading Found Poem assignment, for the book Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

Rain

It’s that time of year again. When Christmas comes to Seattle. It’s like love rains from the sky and sticks to the roofs in illumination. Lights atop every single roof, making the night mystical.

            It puts you at peace. It makes you wish that time would stand still, that this minuscule moment could last for more than mere seconds. It feels as if there could not be a time of more warmth than this one.
            And all the distractions melt away into a puddle of contentment, like the pools of rain water - weightless and resting on the pavement. Because tonight the vast sky sends down rain, not without reason, but as a reminder that rain is not all gloomy, that tears are not all shed in sadness, that things that fall down are not all bad. In fact, rain creates beauty on a windowpane overlooking strings of dazzling lights, and tears can fall in light of a moment of pure joy, and things that fall always fall for a purpose.

- completed December 28, 2010
(The idea behind this poem, especially the last line: "things that fall always fall for a purpose" was written in the idea of Jesus coming to Earth. God decided to send his son as the lowest of the low - falling from power. Jesus was no king or person of status, he was an ordinary man who sought to seek the sinners, the people who realized they were unworthy. And it was all for a purpose.
But you are encouraged to have some other interpretations and inspirations from the line. :)

Clowns Juggle

I go to the circus
and see the clowns
in their bright suits
juggling away

They juggle
like it can ease
life's problems
as easy as
that

But juggling is
hard
It takes practice
practice
and more practice

If only
we could control
our lives
like the clowns
control the bright balls

written on September 28, 2009 for a free write in Mr. Green's English class