30 March 2010

this is how i feel.


If only for the cross-breeze,
[with its iconic sound
and the blissful sense of chaos,]
I'd roll that window down.

If it was warm,
or stormy,
I'd still roll that window down.

I'd rather not face rain, though.
It's not that it won't sing--
it's actually quite full of
pieces of some everythings,
some in-betweens,
and also filled by hungry, grieved nothings.

But I don't think it'd be useful
to bet wet again so soon.
The clouds might disagree.
Last night, they hid the moon.

But even if it does rain,
(perhaps especially,)
I'd still roll down that window.

I still need that cross-breeze.

*STREAMOFTHOUGHT:* earlier i was discussing utah weather. i'm very much in love with the variety. i'm pretty sure it keeps me sane. i don't normally type poems. in fact, usually i can't type a poem. i just do better with a pen. i see green blurs on my willow. i view the tree right through that window-- the one willow i can see-- as my tree. right now there are lots of blurs. i wonder where my glasses went. i often have long titles. they usually mean more to me than i mean them to. or maybe they mean more to me than i mean them to mean to other people...

I'm done.

a post i'm posting late

(Today is actually the thirtieth. But this belongs on the 25th.)

Olivia Cherie Juárez Knudsen.
Oliviack, maybe? Maybe.
She's older, and she's wiser.
She can raise her eyebrow, too.
(Like, really, though. She means it
when she raises it at you.)
She quite enjoys her major.
(A designer-- graphic'ly.)
She's GOOD at it. I've seen her
work with simplicity
and show so well whatever
she meant to get across.
(Kind of like that eyebrow
which just tells you it's the boss.)

There's lot's more to her. She's the oldest, of course there is. It isn't hard to tell, though, because she's very real. And very much her own character.

Olivia, I love you very much. Happy 25 on 25, even though that's sort of old news. I still think it's exciting. Sorry I didn't do this when it was your actual birthday. We'll just say I was busy helping you celebrate, okay?



Love you,

13 March 2010


I've been doing lot's of Beatles appreciation recently.

I remember, way back in the earlier half of my life, A Hard Day's Night played when we had to clean, and we'd just get stuff done and sing along to that album. A Hard Day's Night, speaking of the song this time, was my theme song. Olivia used to have me sing it. Carmen sangNorwegian Wood, for the same reason...

Those guys were among the elite. Their music has such variety, and it's pretty much all successful.

But I, being myself, am a sucker for their lyrics.

For instance:
From DON'T PASS ME BY, a comical example:
I'm sorry that I doubted you.
I was so unfair.
You were in a car-crash,
And you lost your hair.
You said that you would be late,
About an hour or two.
That's okay, I'm just waiting here,
Just waiting to hear from you.

From WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS, a poetic example:
I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping,
While my guitar gently weeps.
I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping.
Still, my guitar gently weeps.
I don't know why nobody told you
How to unfold your love.
I don't know how someone controlled you.
They bought and sold you.

From HERE COMES THE SUN, a feel-good example:
Little darling,
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter.
Little darling,
It feels like years since it's been here...
... Little darling,
The smile's returning to the faces,
Little darling,
It feels like years since it's been here.
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's alright.

I love the stories told in Rocky Racoon, Ob-la-di Ob-la-da, She Loves You, and other songs.

This is the song I've had stuck in my head for a while:
I'm not generally a fan of covers of The Beatles' songs. But this one I like.

Anyway, there's the rant for today.