Poetry Corner (some old/new poems of mine)

Jerusalem Child

Thousands of years
Millions of days
An infinity of wooden crosses
blood stained nails
Jerusalem child
Ain’t a child no more

You knew, they knew
(Or so they say)
It was December twenty fifth
A single solitary sun and moon
And star interaction
There’s straw in the manger,
There’s God in a baby boy?

Plates of your flesh
Laid out on a table
And cups of your blood
Lifted to my lips
Jesus, I don’t understand
Help me understand

Just a truth--no past or beginning
Nor future or ending
Just rumors spreading
Perpetuating already


The Wind and I

In empty rooms I hear the wind whispering to me
I can almost understand and then it flies away again
It is my best friend
The worldly wind

When I sit in a steaming bath, the wind swirls around
It sings a lullaby, to chase the hate from my head
It helps me mend
The powerful wind

Sprawled on the sand, at night on an empty beach
The wind is still at last, and my spirit rises to the stars
We dance at the universe’s end
The wind and I

Secret Soul

I have a secret
It lies below the glassy
Surface of my dark pupil
Receding into the maze
Of woven dendrites and axons
Buried deep into skin
It roams the heart
Let it linger in my soul

It has a secret soul
Who whispers soothing sounds
Through a mouthful of fangs
It lies below the windblown
Surface of my dark consciousness
And entwines itself with
The sacred spirituality
There it will remain
In my Heart of hearts

And there they will last longer than
My will, my secret and its soul
Until the day they seep out my pores
Hovering in the air besides the ears of many
Whispering soothing sounds
Through a mouthful of deceit
Like an eerie ghost in a graveyard of my life

Trailer Park Blossums

O brilliant purple sky,
And deep green ocean,
please grant us
Your kind, safe noises,
But till then, wink.
Because together
you've walked,
Treading on nothing but
atoms and thoughts of
Your passionate moments,
With some uncomfortable
jack in the box surprises.
The years of your youth flew
Several yards past the
Spoken and understood,
leaving angry storms in
their absence (though age
really does suit you).
And there have been so
many trails refused,
Sulky and disappointed, but
ever drinking in the
Cheshire grins, knowing that
it all will soon be repeated.

The Voices In My Head

I’m a sorry group of voices in my head
We’re all disenchanted with the world, as it is
This will probably change within hours
We’re bipolar to the extreme, Doctor said

I don’t pretend to understand us
Nobody should be asked to try
We’re a silly group of compulsive obsessives
Don’t get too close, we’re highly infectious

To stop the madness would be to stop the sky
Disenfranchised, disenchanted, excommunicated for sure
Psychotic, eccentric, genius, we’re all misunderstood
We will live on, fascinating the senses, confusing the masses

Untitled

The fog in my head expanded exponentially
It spread to cover the whole room and further
I think it covered the whole universe, eventually
I cried out for someone, anyone, Mother?
No one came. That was a-ok. The cold didn’t bother me.

It happens when I sleep in on dark days of winter
When the house is a shell of lonely to fit the weather
There is music in the gentle wind, dancing in the Lands of Hinter
There is tea in the kitchen, a pot on the stove, and quite a void of ether
And no one’s here. But all is one. The cold doesn’t bother me.

The Flesh and Spirit

This is a poem by Anne Bradstreet that I like:

In secret place where once I stood
Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was call'd, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other Spirit, who did rear
Her thoughts unto a higher sphere.
"Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on
Nothing but Meditation?
Doth Contemplation feed thee so
Regardlessly to let earth go?
Can Speculation satisfy
Notion without Reality?
Dost dream of things beyond the Moon
And dost thou hope to dwell there soon?
Hast treasures there laid up in store
That all in th' world thou count'st but poor?
Art fancy-sick or turn'd a Sot
To catch at shadows which are not?
Come, come. I'll show unto thy sense,
Industry hath its recompence.
What canst desire, but thou maist see
True substance in variety?
Dost honour like? Acquire the same,
As some to their immortal fame;
And trophies to thy name erect
Which wearing time shall ne'er deject.
For riches dost thou long full sore?
Behold enough of precious store.
Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Affects thou pleasure? Take thy fill.
Earth hath enough of what you will.
Then let not go what thou maist find
For things unknown only in mind.

Filial Piety

When I first started blogging about nine months ago, it seemed like a big mysterious world of unlimited possibilities. It seemed like nothing but good could come from this experience. Little did I know of the danger that can come of freeing yourself on the screens of faceless, nameless people. Worse, on the screens of very real, very personal people.

Everything that I have written in this blog, I have written with one purpose: to understand myself better. Consequently, I think it has improved my personal voice. I haven't written these words to hurt the people that I love the most. In fact, this blog has been mostly for selfish purposes, with only my benefit in mind.

We all hurt the ones we love the most. It has happen so many times before, to a countless amount of people. It is not uncommon. But no matter how many times a mother, father, sister, brother, friend, fill in the blank gets hurt by thoughtlessness, it never dulls the aching pain they feel.

What can you do when this happens? What can you say to make it better? What ideals should you compromise to make them feel good again? How do you know what's right? How can you trust yourself after something like this has happened?

These are things that I need to think about. I am slightly fanatically attached to my values, and I think that this behavior lends itself to a certain amount of selfishness...or uncompromising behavior? I can't think of the right word. But when I feel that something is right, I will not bend. So what's right, what's wrong? Do you trust yourself or the one you love?

I guess I have a lot to learn.

NIN show!

Hahaha great picture, right?

NIN was fantastic. I was a small part of the sweaty, thick mass of people dancing to industrial metal. The show was one of the best that I've ever gone to; Trent Reznor has a really strong stage presence, and the set of songs that they chose really kept the energy high (great for dancing!!). I really just let myself get caught up in the music, and got that priceless high that you get from a [good] live show.

Speaking of highs...someone next to us, and someone in front of us lit up that ubiquitous joint. It was hardly noticed because the smoke blended in so well with the gray masses pouring from the smoke machine. It was really funny to see these stoned guys getting pummeled in the pit. Of course I didn't partake in the revelries, because I don't do drugs.

The friend that I went with was sick, sadly. But she still went and had a great time. She is a platinum blonde with a deep love for the gothic. Very lovely stereotype breaker. We got shirts :)

Hello my imaginary readers!

Just giving you a recommendation for a very silly read...

I love:

sunshine
coffee
berry tea
acai
ocean
surf
good friends
emails
no homework
movie marathons
music
cute dj's
undiscovered bands
dried flowers
.7 lead pencils
poems
fat novels
short stories
fluffy reads
storms
getting wet from rain
warm showers
soft beds
foxes
hikes
water
milk chocolate
health food
live music
smelly hippies
dirty punks
freedom

I hate:
fakes
gossip
math homework
stinky shoes
labels
stereotypes (though I tend to stereotype people)
cliques
politicians
fame
dirty rooms
heavy backpacks
pop songs
stupid radio stations
fifty cent
sexists
opressors
rebels without a cause
addictive websites
the internet (love/hate thing)
monday mornings
afternoons
p.e.

I believe in:
spirit
courage
respect
friendship
faith in self
love of self
love in general
punctuality
freedom
magic
the Is
invisiblility
wants
writing your own future
understanding
tolerance

I don't believe in:
lies
hate
wants
selfishness
self depreciation
undependibiliality (huh?)
"can't"
restrictions
stereotypes
faux intellectualness (what did she say?)
time

I love

aww

rockabilly kids.

Dear Person #1,

I am Lindsea, in case you don't remember. I have a very strange family. It's strange both in its composition and its general personality. To start from the beginning, I was illegitimate, as some people call it. I call it unexpected (I had a big arrival). My mom and dad weren't married, and even though my dad proposed, my mom thought it best that she didn't get married to my father, who was more interested in partying at the time. This was ok for him to be interested in. I don't blame him or wish that things had gone any other way. My mom raised me in Kailua, the sunny little windward town, and she made our living from being a Private Investigator. My dad helped out a bit with child support, but mostly we were broke. This didn't stop us from having a blast, and as a child, I never was in want. In fact, anything I wanted to do, my mom would make it happen. I had the most idyllic childhood imaginable. My mom and I are best friends.

I love my dad, but to be completely honest he is a bit crazy (mostly in a good way). My theory is that he took one to many hits on the head during his NFL days. My dad and I are more like friends than father and daughter. We go out partying together, and he takes me on lots of trips. I have two godfather-esque people who are good friends of my dad that have had a big influence on my growing up. One was Hunter S. Thompson, one of my dad's best friends. I knew him from birth, and he was one of the sweetest, most fun person that I have ever met. Now that I'm older, I read his books and realize what a genius he was, how he had this persona that he would hide behind, and how he wasn't afraid to state his mind and be and individual. I feel that I have followed his example and become an individual. The other person (or really, a family) that influences me is my godfather Joe Kennedy and the entire Kennedy family. I stay at their house in Hyannis, Mass. every summer. They have taught me many life lessons (such as the benefits of spontaneity), and given me examples both of how I want to become, and how I don't want to become.

From my dad, I have two half-siblings, a brother, Nate, and a sister, Dione. Dione lives in Manchester, England, with her husband and three beautiful children. My brother lives in Diamond Head with his wife and his son, Roary-John. I would have to say that I'm closest to my sister, though I can't say why exactly. We never really were close, it just recently happened on a trip to San Francisco when we were driving to Stinson Beach. Relationships just evolve as you get older, I suppose.

I also have a step-dad. I love Mark so much. He is more like my "dad" then my dad is, though he is much younger. He taught me how to surf, and introduced me to lots of good bands. He also took me to my first punk show! I have seen many more since then. He's a baker and used to own a pizza restaurant but there was a fire and it burned down. Now he is a sales representative for Hawaii Flour Mills. Soon he hopes to open up his own restaurant/bar in Chinatown. My mom, dad and stepdad are all good friends.

One summer my mom and I went on a road trip from California to Ohio, and back in our big black Jaguar. I was the navigator, and we just drove and drove. If we wanted to stop, we did. If we wanted to eat, we did. If we wanted to shop, we did. There were no limitations and so many adventures were had. We drove through sunflower fields in Kansas, red rocky formations in New Mexico, chilly mountaintops in Aspen, and any other possible thing you can think of. I think that's where I truly got to know myself.

I entered Punahou in sixth grade, after going to Le Jardin for 8 years of my life. It was a scary thing, going to a new school, and to be honest, it wasn't one of the best experiences (at the time, at least). In my old school there were about forty kids in the grade and we were all friends. I wasn't used to being teased, and at Punahou I was. I didn't really care at first, but then it got worse, so I just decided to ditch everyone and go read in the library at lunch. The year finally finished and I was a better person for it. I finished Remembrance of Things Past by Proust this summer and he has this quote about how the best times of his life were when he was suffering. It's kind of true. When you look back on times where there were hardships in your life, and you obviously got through them because here you are looking back on them, you get this sense of happiness. You think, "Well, I went through this horrible time, but I grew from it, and now look where I am." I'm glad things went the way they did.

There aren't any specific high points at Punahou, it's more of a continuous high point. I feel so lucky to have all these opportunities. The extracurricular! The classes! The teachers! The campus! I can really feel the school guiding me in my growth of mind and spirit.

Other than the usual school stuff, I am the editor in chief of the Ka Wai Ola (the literary magazine), Art Editor for the Ka Punahou (the newspaper), staff writer for Aware magazine, and guest writer on a blog called Eco-Geek. I also paint (acrylics and water colors) and draw (oil pastels). I really love to read, and I am addicted to the written word. I have a blog that I write in about every other day called Love and Logic. I make films during my spare time, and I love movie marathons. Favorite genres: foreign, indie, cult classic and documentary. And music. Live music is like miniature enlightenment, especially when I can feel the bass in my internal organs! I'm a music collector/addict, too. I obsessively download new bands. Favorite genres: new wave, avant-lo-fi, dark wave, DIY, riot grrrl, psychobilly, French chanson, indie, neofolk, metal, jazz, techno, brit rock, world, acid rock, and funk. As for sports, I paddle for the outrigger. I'm not a very "Go team!" type of person, but I enjoy paddling because you're not focused on beating the other team so much as your focused on staying in time with your crew, and focusing on your own strength. Paddling has actually taught me an important lesson that I hadn't really understood before. That lesson is that you will get nowhere if you try and paddle faster than the other girls, you will only move forward when you can learn to paddle in time with them. It's not winning that matters, but it's being in sync with your true self, nature, and your fellow human beings that really makes the difference.

So, this is a taste of who I am (at least the parts that fit into this letter). I can't wait to get to know you better.

Love,
Lindsea

Semi National Cool Day! (sort of)

Meet me in Cognito, baby
Of course we'll have to color our hair.
The best thing about life in Cognito
Is that everybody's nobody there

Meet me in Cognito, darling,
Sure, some may thing it's rash,
But you'll look chic incognito
With your fake nose and Groucho mustache

Meet me in Cognito, baby,
We'll soon leave our pasts behind us.
The present is always a mystery,
As the future never fails to remind us.

Once we're alone in Cognito,
We'll remove all of our clothes very fast,
But though we be naked as jaybirds,
At no time will we take off our masks

Cinderella went incognito,
And it's said that she had a ball.
It's always midnight in Cognito
By the black clock at the end of the hall

We're destined to be clandestine,
Incognito is our very last hope.
I'll meet you where the sun don't shine
With a fake I.D. and some dope

So do join me in Cognito,
You know that I'll never tell.
We'll sneak in the back door of Heaven
And stroll unnoticed through Hell.

Incognito
Incognito
There, every day's a surprise
Incognito
Incognito
Where the truth tells the all the best lies

If you won't meet me in Cognito,
Baby, I'm apt to go out of my head.
But if you really can't handle incognito
Meet me in Absentia, instead

The One Who Is Missing is missing,
He can't run but He certainly can hide.
His ghost car is parked in Cognito
Do you think He might give us a ride?

You play the game incognito,
You risk paying a very stiff price.
You'll bet the ranch on Number 13
Though that number is not on the dice

No news is good news in Cognito
Addresses are damn hard to find.
The queen of spades runs the mailroom
And all the postmen are legally blind

Just because you're naked
Doesn't mean you're sexy,
Just because you're cynical
Doesn't mean your cool.
You may tell the greatest lies
And wear a brilliant disguise
But you can't escape the eyes
Of the one who sees right through you.

In the end what will prevail
Is your passion, not your tail,
For love is the Holy Grail,
Even in Cognito

So better listen to me, sister,
And pay close attention, mister:
It's very good to play the game,
Amuse the gods, avoid the pain,
But don't trust fortune, don't trust fame,
Your real self doesn't know your name
And in that we're all the same:
We're all incognito














I love you