Friday, March 26, 2010

Arctic Cold

Rushing waves at the Arctic
Crash down on the slippery ice
And destroy chunks of ice.
The glaciers change course
And float gently across the Arctic sea
Even though the waves say otherwise.
The frozen tundra splits
And the penguins scatter.
Leaping out of the way,
Many dive towards the deep blue.

As the waddle of penguins swim faster than seals,
The surrounding icebergs sink into the icy water.
They dodge the chunks as they pierce the surface of the water.
Quickly and easily maneuvering through the freezing liquid.
Of course, they’re the fastest swimmers in the world.
No wonder nothing can catch them.
Even though the whirlpools control the waters at the time,
They aren’t strong enough to pull the birds inward.
Try as they might,
Its efforts are futile.

And as the sheets of ice fall into the deep,
The penguins slide back onto the remaining pieces of ice.
Looking around for the rest of their friends,
They think back to the catastrophe nature has caused
And only smiled at the fact that once again,
The penguin waddle avoided this unfortunate incident.
With a sense of pride about them
And their heads held high,
The harsh wind feels like a welcome home
As the penguins of the Arctic continue on their diligent journey.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Over Break

I feel so cold. A space heater isn't nearly fulfilling the warmth I'm searching for.

It's spring break, and I have a week off from school. I returned home. My birthday is literally in twenty minutes. And I still feel empty. I'm a second term sophomore in college, so I've been home a few times, as well as lived on my own in the dorms. But this is the first real time where I'm realizing that I don't have a home. I have people who love me, and I love to see them from time to time. But I no longer know the meaning of the word "home."

I have an apartment now, but it's still too early to figure out if it's "home" or not. Sure, I'll be living there from now on, and I won't visit the family again unless it's a holiday or if I'm in serious trouble. But is it where I belong? The truth is, I don't belong anywhere. Or if I do, I don't know where that is, or when I'll find it. One thing I know for certain though - this is not my home. That slightly depresses me.

A Book of Creation

A book has many faces

Many stories which can express millions of emotions.

Creativity replaces your already occupied soul,

And imagination comes to life.

A battle, or war perhaps at a far off distance is going to occur.

The humongous castle is heavily guarded with troops

These aren’t just any regular troops;

They’re skilled fighters.

Trained warriors with a specific weapon of their choice

And I feel hollow and alone with only a sharp katana in my right hand.

But nonetheless, I ready for a gruesome battle.

The winter wonderland is a landscape in which you feel sorry for as well.

Did the precious land itself deserve this torture?

It’s hard to look up because of the falling snow that lands on my tepid tongue now,

But it still feels comforting.

Or at least, for a little while anyway.

Soon, the icy wind picks up,

And smelling the frigid air only makes me want to kill more.

I have a deadly mission to accomplish,

And I’m trusted to do the difficult task.

Soon, the archers and snipers behind the gate release the strings they pull.

Arrows soar through the atmosphere like whirling projectiles.

Dodging them is the hardest part,

Because I can hear the thin piece of wood that screams past my ears.

They act like eerie shrieks that constantly pierce into your head,

It’s so painful and unbearable.

But I reach the frozen, wet gate and try to open it.

The hand to hand combat begins,

And I shiver,

But not because of the cold.

I shiver in fear; I’m scared to actually fight by myself.

After my sweat forms droplets of ice,

I fiercely leap into the fray without and regards to whatever else is going on.

I go berserk,

And kill every opposing opponent that dares to cross my dangerous path.

I can smell the blood freezing at that very moment,

And I feel like time itself has stopped for a few seconds.

Eventually, magic spells begin to be cast towards the rest of my party.

Thunder crashes down to the ground next to me and I stumble backwards.

Terrified, I dash to the nearest protection.

An igloo shields me from incoming anime spells.

Closing my eyes, I realize that there’s no way I can survive this battle.

But I’ve been drawn in, like a soothing scent.

It appeals to me even though I’m willing to die a horrible death.

My imagination comes to life,

And creativity replaces my already occupied soul.

My stories can express millions of emotions,

And it’s all because the book has many faces.

Friday, March 12, 2010

I'm mostly going to post my writing in this blog. If I have something that's bothering me or that I want to share with others, I'll post that too. Enjoy my thoughts!