Thursday, August 14, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Farewell to Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway's solution
Is really simple.
As life is taking him into trouble
And trouble and more trouble,
He still finds himself in the sun
Before he ate the bullet of his
favored gun.
I was really shocked, but at the same time pleased to be a member of Ms. H's blog group. I was organizing my old stuffs moments ago when I found my reading journal. It was the last project we had in our American Lit., and nostalgic memories came rushing to me. This one is a poem(?) that I included in my journal. -jb
Is really simple.
As life is taking him into trouble
And trouble and more trouble,
He still finds himself in the sun
Before he ate the bullet of his
favored gun.
I was really shocked, but at the same time pleased to be a member of Ms. H's blog group. I was organizing my old stuffs moments ago when I found my reading journal. It was the last project we had in our American Lit., and nostalgic memories came rushing to me. This one is a poem(?) that I included in my journal. -jb
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
WE'RE TWO MONTHS OLD TODAY!!!
Happy 2nd Monthsary, blogfellows!
Keep those creative juices flowing.
Carpe Diem! - Miss H.
Keep those creative juices flowing.
Carpe Diem! - Miss H.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Letters -- revised on May 27, 2008
By Kimee E. Santiago
**I revised the poem, "letters"; i meant it to be communicated this way, not only as a nostalgic poem about snail mail. i realized the first draft needed a few more hints, so here it goes. =)
Hey.
I got your e-mail.
They’re more like notices
Getting shorter as they come
Like I am a transaction.
I’m sorry it took me a day
To respond.
Had to go through the letters
You used to send me. I keep them in a
Bundle, Dear, by my pillow.
Tied loosely with the rosepoint sash
Of my lingerie unwashed
Since you left.
How much do stamps cost now?
I knew you better when
Your illegible cursives would
Stroke me gently and lift my skirt
Then I would feel how you went
Through your day as your
Loops and tittles sigh with
The release of your pen.
And I would lean back, weakened
with the pages consumed by your presence.
Before resealing your letters
I’d taste you in the flap.
**I revised the poem, "letters"; i meant it to be communicated this way, not only as a nostalgic poem about snail mail. i realized the first draft needed a few more hints, so here it goes. =)
Hey.
I got your e-mail.
They’re more like notices
Getting shorter as they come
Like I am a transaction.
I’m sorry it took me a day
To respond.
Had to go through the letters
You used to send me. I keep them in a
Bundle, Dear, by my pillow.
Tied loosely with the rosepoint sash
Of my lingerie unwashed
Since you left.
How much do stamps cost now?
I knew you better when
Your illegible cursives would
Stroke me gently and lift my skirt
Then I would feel how you went
Through your day as your
Loops and tittles sigh with
The release of your pen.
And I would lean back, weakened
with the pages consumed by your presence.
Before resealing your letters
I’d taste you in the flap.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
I Shut Myself to Oblivion
by: Shanna
I shut myself to oblivion,
slammed the door
and blew the tiny spark
of the dying candle away.
The light out there
has been radiant,
But its flares,
its prickly kisses
hurt.
Then I heard
some faint moonlight spilled
around the doorframe
Then the pitch-black silence
was shattered
into a wild syncopation
when I heard the thud
of my newly-awakened heart.
I shut myself to oblivion,
slammed the door
and blew the tiny spark
of the dying candle away.
The light out there
has been radiant,
But its flares,
its prickly kisses
hurt.
Then I heard
some faint moonlight spilled
around the doorframe
Then the pitch-black silence
was shattered
into a wild syncopation
when I heard the thud
of my newly-awakened heart.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Letters
By Kimee E. Santiago
May 14, 2008
Hey.
I got your e-mail.
They’re more like notices
Getting shorter as they come
Like I am a transaction.
I’m sorry it took me a day
To respond.
Had to go through the letters
You used to send me. I keep them in a
Bundle, Dear, by my pillow.
Tied loosely with the rosepoint sash
Of my night gown unwashed
Since you left.
How much do stamps cost now?
I knew you better when
Your illegible cursives would
Stroke me gently and
Then I would feel how you went
Through your day as your
Loops and tittles sigh with
The release of your pen.
And I would lean back, relieved
With pages consumed by your presence.
Before resealing your letters
I’d taste you in the flap.
May 14, 2008
Hey.
I got your e-mail.
They’re more like notices
Getting shorter as they come
Like I am a transaction.
I’m sorry it took me a day
To respond.
Had to go through the letters
You used to send me. I keep them in a
Bundle, Dear, by my pillow.
Tied loosely with the rosepoint sash
Of my night gown unwashed
Since you left.
How much do stamps cost now?
I knew you better when
Your illegible cursives would
Stroke me gently and
Then I would feel how you went
Through your day as your
Loops and tittles sigh with
The release of your pen.
And I would lean back, relieved
With pages consumed by your presence.
Before resealing your letters
I’d taste you in the flap.
Hair in my Skirt
By Kimee E. Santiago
May 14, 2008
I tug at a stray thread
Dangling from my skirt hem.
It stretches, as the cloth
Ripples with resistance.
It breaks to coil into a frizzed
Ringlet and announce
It is hair, not thread.
For a year of wears-and-washes
My skirt kept a secret:
It has life stitched in it
Peeking into me, into a spot
Most honest and pure.
May 14, 2008
I tug at a stray thread
Dangling from my skirt hem.
It stretches, as the cloth
Ripples with resistance.
It breaks to coil into a frizzed
Ringlet and announce
It is hair, not thread.
For a year of wears-and-washes
My skirt kept a secret:
It has life stitched in it
Peeking into me, into a spot
Most honest and pure.
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