Personification in Reverse

Instead of objects described with personality, me - a person - in the form of an object, or two or three. (Well, we can at least pretend I am a person.) Written August '09.

"I think if I was a color out of the Crayola 64 box of crayons I would be goldenrod, although sometimes I wish I could be the robin's egg blue or go back in time and be the macaroni and cheese I would have been as a kid. I really am goldenrod though, somewhere between an orange and yellow that is the best color for drawing sunshine.

If I were an item of clothing I would be a knit cardigan sweater, although I would perhaps like to be a pair of blue jeans too. However, there is just something about sweaters that feels very comforting and comfortable. The same thing goes for that worn out pair of blue jeans that you hope never gets a hole in the butt, because you wouldn't be able to wear them, but you do wish would get holes in the knees, because then they would make you feel cooler.

If I were a scent I would be the mixture of sunscreen with chlorine that always reminds me of summer days. Or I would be the smell of a nectarine that tempts you for days before you finally think it is ripe enough to eat, and then upon cutting it open and eating the whole thing you realize you were too impatient and it would have been better if you'd waited one more day. But obviously you couldn't.

If I could be a sound I would be the crash of waves on the beach or the steady beat of heavy rain. I wouldn't be the thunder though, however powerful it's just not me. I would however be the sound of wind in the trees that whispers and makes you feel as though you could fly.

If I could be a sitting position, even though that may sound odd, I would be sitting Indian style with legs crossed - comfortable, informal, compact and kept to myself. I would also have a big pillow in my lap to hug and for your head to rest on or hide your face if you don't want to be seen. I'm all about being comfy and cozy, or just about sitting in the most awkward positions ever. "

Seed

Oh, my plant class has truly gotten to me I think. Lots of it is rather boring, but lots of it is cool. I love wandering around my town identifying trees and marveling at fall colors and the creations of God. As I usually write a poem or two when procrastinating papers, I wrote this one, a bit inspired by seed dissections and glowing, glorious sunlight filtering through golden autumn leaves.



The seeds of relationships are sown,
results unknown
and one begins to sprout.
It breaks free of the shell that kept it safe
in times of strife and harder days,
because it couldn't grow inside the walls of self for all time.
It sought more from the world-
in fresh air and spirit-lifting sunny rays.
With faith it looked to light and sky and deep horizons,
envisioning growth as a means to see a better, fuller view of life.
Without reaching, strong in courage,
it would never flower and achieve its greatest potential,
being all it could be as a loving family tree.

"Reflections" and super man band aids

I never really shared my goal to post once a week although this was initially my aim. I haven't met it consistently yet, because I prefer to post things I have written recently or older works that I once again feel are important to my life and current clarity. The role poetry plays in my life cycles and I didn't write any poetry this week, so I was sifting through old poetry files and came a cross this from a couple years ago.

I find it just as true now that I recognize myself more in the eyes of strangers when sharing a genuine smile than I do at any other time. It is kind of puzzling to realize that amidst all the search for self that goes on in the world, forgetting that search by tripping on a crack in someone else's heart ultimately heals your own. May we all trip more often and carry super man band aids.

"Reflections"

Who am I?
Do I recognize myself?
Is my image in the mirror really me?
I feel more like myself smiling into the eyes of strangers
than I do by looking in a mirror or with inflection.
Is that the right word?
It's not reflection but action.
“Smiling from the inside out.”
Forgetting to wonder about identity
by getting lost in work and service,
and in the process being your true self
or a better self.

Inflection - Introspection... same diff. Not really, but sometimes it seems wrong to change a poem two years later, because it changes the essence of the moment it captures, when the right words don't always come when called.

hatching heart

I am waiting for my heart to hatch
out of it's crisp shell,
so it can grow and cheep and learn to fly,
leave its nest and seek a home outside my chest.

currency

Time was currency to my head,
but I neglected to pay my heart.
I left it starving, bleeding, believing-
until it could no more.
Hope had fallen and
my heart took its last breath.
My brain was rich with time,
but empty of all air and care.
My soul could not survive fragmented in two.
Oh they fight and tug for every drop and dime.
But until they can agree,
I wait for harmony
so that in peace I can exist.
No- thrive!

perched on a power line

you can't stay high in the sky every day.
sometimes the storm comes in before you make it safely home
and you perch on a power line
watching the energy of all the people going by
unable to tap into the power of flight
as they go on slowed by gravity,
but not hindered by the pressure of the air you both breathe,
but which you need to lift you up.
or you can land on a telephone wire
and make the most important call you can.

greenhouse

I would rather be a green house than a castle's fortress walls.
Transparent to the world most times,
showing the life within and all the time
warmer than any outside face tipped towards the sun.
This would be a better way to live a life than hidden within stone,
for treasures of real value: growth!
are there for all to see.
Instead of a heart set on physical things,
a life driven by becoming something.