Thursday, December 20, 2012


My Paris is a land where twilight days
Merge into violent nights of black and gold;
Where, it may be, the flower of dawn is cold:
Ah, but the gold nights, and the scented ways!

 

Eyelids of women, little curls of hair,
A little nose curved softly, like a shell,
A red mouth like a wound, a mocking veil:
Phantoms, before the dawn, how phantom-fair!

 

And every woman with beseeching eyes,
Or with enticing eyes, or amorous,
Offers herself, a rose, and craves of us
A rose's place among our memories

Arthur Symones

PARIS

There is no place like Paris. What a long strange trip it's been. A hero's journey, a couple of poems, and a lot of inspirational sports videos. Matt Dastrup the tourist that woke up to late.... EVERY DAY.... Confusion, anger, constant hand cramps. I did it for the A ill admit. That A turned into creativity, into imagination, into inspiration. A lot of frustration as i roamed the streets of Paris, I got lost in the crowd multiple times but i usually got out. I got a lot of sight seeing done, but also i found a lot out about my own creativity. Paris was the greatest trip ever. I wish i could move here

Monday, December 10, 2012

cool poem i found

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,--
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

We Real Cool

THE POOL PLAYERS. 
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.



We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.
 
I love this poem and am so jealous of it because it has a cool rhythm to it.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Three is a magic number

My heart says "stay"

My mind says "go"

My mouth says nothing...

I watch her walk out the door

THREE OF US AND NOT ONE COULD STEP UP AND TALK

Threes a crowd

But there all I have

Sunday, November 25, 2012

home for the holidays

HO HO HO

the classic words of christmas

stockings

trees

elfs oh my

SINGING AROUND A FIRE!!

people say they hate the holidays.

what is there to hate

Everyones happy

if there not your doing it wrong

Two weeks of school to hangout with the bros

nothing better

No homework for the holidays

So im home for the holidays


still waiting