Curious to see what these wacky poems mean? Too bad, even I don't know exactly what they mean. Maybe if I knew, I would understand more about my inner psyche and all that. But until I do, I made a special page for my freinds who know me (and you bold adventurers that wish to know me a little better) about what exactly these poems mean to me and what they represent. Some are extremely dear to me (and actually some I can't read over because it makes me uncomfy) and others I just did in my writing class for an assignment, so I can read them over and over and think "hmm..this stinks.." But I cleared away this area of the grove for those private poems that attempted to express my carload of feelings at different parts in my life (though most of these were written during the year of '99).

Ophelia's Flowers

I’m not sure what the message is in this poem, I wrote a few lines down years ago when I was listening to the rainfall outside my window. Just months ago, I added to it, making it a poem that can stand on its own spindly legs. I really can’t tell you all of what made me write this because it was hooked together over a period of time, I was mostly just playing with imagery and letting my weakness for ‘pathetic fallacy’ (giving inanimate objects like rain feelings and a ‘personality’) run wild.

What the Moon Saw

This poem was very cathartic for me, does it seem too whiney? I hope not, I think most of everyone (or at least myself and my thin skinned kindred - thin skinned means BIG HEART, remember that!) has been bumped up quite a bit in life. And sometimes in those moments where we are alone with ourselves, that's when it all hits. Things you thought you forgot or moved on from suddenly rear their ugly heads. You have to rely on inner strength to just close your eyes.. and step over the pit in the road again even though you thought you already jumped over it. The truth is, things come back, if they hurt you deeply enough. It's like an old sports injury. The true heros and heroines can keep climbing that wall no matter how many times they have done it before. That was the meaning I was trying to convey in this poem.


Minuet

This was an actual dream I decided to write down. What it means? Hm..I have very infuriating dreams and I was in such a bad mood the entire day. What do you expect, my heart was gone!! Ripped out in the middle of the night by a giant ant whose uncle I had crushed. I guess the real meaning behind it is, it’s so hard to want something that just isn’t there. Our mind makes up dreams that we want so badly to be real but reality always comes a-knockin.

Crimson Feather

I’m still not sure if this is the title I want for this poem, I just picked it out of the sky. For awhile I’ve had a slight ‘crush’ on someone..yes I know how fickle I am, first I’m devoting love poetry to a dead 19th century author and now this? This came up over this past year. Because I realized that I had passed up something very noble. However I’m not even sure if I passed up something, since *sings* I heard it through the grape vine. About 2 years ago I was told that someone (not droppin names *ehhe well not the entire name*) liked me..and at the time I was young..and so much had happened recently with another bad experience that I just wasn’t ready and I was scared to death. So I ignored it…after a year of that, I stopped ignoring it and hoped they would approach since I was far too shy to. A year after that, I realized we were both too shy and now I don’t even think the subject of this poem feels the same anymore and has probably had more ladies waltz through his heart since then. This is if the rumors are true, the rational part of me says they aren’t. I just wrote this because I notice how nice he is to everyone, even people that aren’t in his ‘peer group’. I see little kids look up to him because it’s someone that won’t mock them for being kids.. I think it’s someone that has so many qualities that I thought didn't exist anymore in this time. I know this may be sappy.. and maybe over-romantic. But it spells his name.. that is my favorite part of this piece.

** Added note, I should probably remove this poem seeing as the gentleman is now well on the way to being taken and my affections have been blown away by the next gust of wind. I guess it wasn't meant to be, I'll find who I was meant for one day, I guess. But I'm leaving it up just as a 'poem' in of itself.. I guess our late Mr. Irving has me all to himself now :-P

Hallowed Ground

I should just stop writing these lovey dovey poems so that way I won't be so embarrassed to write what they mean. Needless to say my trip to Sunnyside (house of W. Irving) was very special to me...ok you guys STOP LAUGHING!!! It was a wonderful place to fall upon after the first time spreading my wings. It was an amazing cottage and I feel that anyone going there will have a similar experience of awe..ok well maybe you won't get all those romantic jitters but you still will be very impressed. Or at least amused!

Garden of Eden

Hmm, the more of these I do, the less I can say what they really mean. Maybe I'm just a wee bit bashful about saying what they mean. I guess when it all comes down to it, sometimes things can't be perfect. Things can't be "all bells and banjos" as I remember seeing in some wierd movie (with Natalie Wood and..this wierd guy with a boxy shaped head). I guess this poem was exploring the possibility of 'perfection' even when outside circumstances are less than ideal. It's not where you are it's who you are with sort of thing. You get the picture :-)

Chasm of Lost Hope


This one needed to come out, if anyone reads this and gets hurt by it, I'm really sorry. I'll never tell who it was to :-) As for what it meant..well..just alot of pain and confusion, but it was healing.


Love in C Minor

Another sappy one, I'm afraid. However, being a 'hopeless romantic', a running theme through my life is the search for a soul mate. I know that sounds cliche to some of you, but...certain types of personalities have a very hard time finding people that they 'click with'. Not because they are mean or anything but mostly because they are so frightened of being rejected and not 'accepted' on all levels of their uniqueness. To get more to the point, have you ever felt that there is one person for you that you were almost predestined for? I'm not talking about 'predestination' in general but just in the way of love, it seems as if some people were truly 'carved' from the same jewel, and when these people find each other, they have one of those bonds that stand the test of time and popular divorcings...and of course we always look at them (if we are single and/or unhappy) and think "ewwww, you guys are making me sick!" This poem was made not only for my 'yet to happen' experience (and I believe it will happen, since I'm an idealist and all), but for all those of you who HAVE found the one that has been carrying your heart all your life, and whose heart of theirs has lead you on a quest through life. There is no joy more perfect than true love. At least that is what I believe, until reality proves me wrong :-D

The Letter

As you might notice, my poetry is having a slightly romantic bent as of late. Why? I don't know..too much mint tea I suppose. To me, this poem represents..well..the euphoria experienced when someone recieves a letter from their sweetheart. This poem is set in a time when letters were pretty much the only means of seeing people (cell phones weren't used too much ;-D), and I could imagine how thrilled ladies were to get letters from their darlings who may be out seeing the world. I admit this is rather sappy..so? What are you going to do about it? Hey wait! Don't go!! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!


A Rural Funeral

A Rural Funeral was originally called "Ode to a Gentleman" but a friend suggested I changed it since it reminded her of a poem called "Ode to a Possum"..it all worked out for the best since after I looked up Ode, my poem didn't fit the description at all, since it wasn't too lyrical and it didn't rhyme at all. It was more of like a tribute than anything. A tribute to whom you may ask?? WASHINGTON IRVING!!!!!! Can't help lovin dat man of mine!



Tea Cup

Tea Cup actually won a contest, I was so shocked. My thanks to FaeGatekeeper of Dreams (the kind and generous webmaster has an amazing email list that has all sorts of good tips for writers and poets, and also hosts many different contests), check out her website! Ok now after that plug, here is what it means. It's one of my most personal pieces of work, and while it's always open to interpretation (like I leave all my written stuff), I'll share what it means to me….Oh what the hay, I'll go into the whole story. I couldn't sleep (I'm never sure if I'm actually awake when I write poetry :-) ), and I was lying awake just feeling really depressed. Like I had lost something very precious a long time ago, or maybe I had never owned it to begin with but I still felt so empty. I think it was probably me coming off my Haagen Daaz sugar rush, but whatever the reason, I felt compelled to write through a different narrator. Most of my poems are written from my point of view (aside from maybe the ornery cabbage which is more of like a scenery poem), and this isn't through my eyes but I still identify with it just as much as those that were written from me. I wrote from the mind of a girl who had attracted an admirer not because of her seductiveness or by being self assured, but from her generosity and her quiet and gentle spirit. It was a girl who died very young in the early 19th century, and whose memory continues to haunt the house in which she grew up in. And the object which her memory focuses on most is the tea cup. I think when I wrote it (without realizing), the tea cup is almost a symbol of her, or her heart. Fragile, and lovely, she willingly offers the cup (or her heart) to her true love, the friend and beau that understands her completely. It also may represent a sort of 'deathless' love, that continues to bloom even when both of them are gone. And to me, it symbolizes the lament of one who was parted from her soulmate.

Silent Woods

I'm not sure if Silent Woods is done or if I will add more to it. I was listening to some classical music..and a song called Silent Woods came on and it inspired me to write this. I'm not sure of what it means, and it is so short I don't know if I should spend the time to ponder it :-)

Nameless

Hmmmm, Nameless was also done in the middle of the night, but it wasn't under the same circumstances as Tea Cup. At this time in my life, I was scared and really confused about what I wanted to be, and I was just terrified of failing. I felt like I was being hunted down by my own fears, and that I would never be able to escape from them. The poem began with just a bunch of jumbled emotions and metaphors that I had written down in the night, and it wasn't until the next day I began making sense of it. Basically, I took one look at it and almost threw it in the trash bin, it was really strange and bizarre and no one could understand it. That is when my wonderful friend and writing partner Amethyst (YOU ARE THE BEST!!!) kindly helped me out, and I think that her advice broke open a dam that was keeping all my emotions locked someplace where I couldn't get to them. I felt my writing really began to improve after she helped me make sense of this one piece, and walked me through every metaphor until I had a story. It also is one of the poems closest to my heart (ok well Tea Cup comes first to my heart), and that is why I have it right below Tea Cup even though some were written later than Nameless.

Mistfull Moments

This particular poem was written with a very dear friend in mind. I'm sure all of you reading this have at one time or another had a close friend in childhood. And you never actually had a falling out (or maybe you did) but years later, suddenly they aren't in your life anymore, and you are forced to move on. I think explaining the whole situation might make the person who this was written for uncomfortable (though I doubt this URL would ever reach them since I pass it along through friends and the webrings). However, even though it has been ages since I've even seen her, I shared with her a deep friendship. For that time in my life (which was a tumultuous time, I might add, I would never relive being a teenager!), I felt that one person in the world knew me just as well as I did. But unlike me, this person believed in me, and saw the potential, and dug out the strengths underneath the weaknesses. She could see my 'backbone' when everyone else (including me) thought I was spineless and powerless to do anything. And her belief in me is what inspired me to keep writing and just to face all those fears that were chasing me down in Nameless and instead to listen to the wisdom that was hidden in those insecurities. I don't think I ever go through a day without thinking of her. In this poem I was trying to describe those moments, when I'm sitting in my car, or when I'm on campus and I think of things we used to joke about or stuff she used to say. I think both of us have moved on too much to go back to the way things were. Perhaps that is ok, or maybe in the future we will meet up again. At any rate, she changed my life for the better and this is my tribute to her.

Photographs of the Heart

Photos is just for my wonderful brother, Matt. We have been through so much, and the more we mature the closer we become. I always felt that we were so different growing up and I think it was hard for each of us to relate to one another. Well I for one had a hard time relating to anything because I don't think my head was securely fastened on my neck until I was 11 or 12. I tried to express our childhood..and Mom would always tell me how close we were when we were little, but I could never remember. All I could see was those times when we were a little older and recognizing our differences, we would fight like cats and dogs. In these past few years, I feel loved. And I love him back dearly. Here's to sibling relationships, Matt and may we continue to paint our horizons in our lands..hehe whatever that means *smiles* Hooooooo!!


Midnight Sunrise

I look at this and I don't think any of it means a darn thing to me. It was a writing exercise where we were supposed to take a few lines from a poem that my beloved writing teacher read to us (which was a wonderful poem by the way) and make a poem of our own out of it. I think that most people can tell that it really has no emotion behind it but maybe one day, I'll fix it up to mean something.

Ornery Cabbage

This was also a writing exercise in another writing class and it's just pure silliness. I went to a Renaissance Faire and a group of actors were doing improvs..and they asked the audience to make up a name for a play and that they would perform it. I have no idea why or where the 'ornery cabbage' came from, but I called it out and they did this cute little skit about a cabbage with an attitude. So when the assignment called for writing a poem with a strange title, I had cabbage on the brain. And then I started pondering about cabbage gnomes living in the cabbages. A picture started forming in my mind about a little green house with leafy walls and a similarly ornery gnome sitting in his ornery cabbage home. No more green tea for me!!!

In Your Dream

Also a writing exercise for class. I have no idea what it symbolizes or means, but the class liked it :-)

Blue Glass

You guessed it, writing exercise!! When I first wrote it, it was a 'free write', so the teacher (not my BELOVED teacher, but a different one heeh) wrote a phrase and had us write down whatever came to mind without letting the pencil up off the paper. Which means by the end I hadasentencethatlookedjustlikethis!!! So it took awhile to figure out what I said, but eventually I did and I must have been in a good mood while writing it. I was trying to write paradise..I think I achieved a silk potted plant at the very least :-)

Carousel Companion

This one had more meaning than most of the writing exercise poems. It was written when I had my first trip away from home(last year). It was only for a few days but I started thinking how fast my life had zipped by. Yes, yes, I know I'm still a baby at 21, but I couldn't help thinking of those simpler times when all I worried about was making sure my shoe was tied before going out to play. After that, I started thinking of how real things had to be as I got older. When I was younger, everything was magic, I thought everything came to life as soon as people were gone. I would hide outside the bathroom door to see if I could hear the toothbrushes talk to each other (remember that toothbrush commercial where the guy toothbrush is flirting with the girl toothbrush?). And when you get older, things become less enchanted..the worries get more serious, and enjoying goofy things become undignified. I attempted to express my sad feelings of 'growing up', using a childhood object that everyone knows, the carousel horse. Reality brutally changes the horse as time passes…and at the end, it no longer seems to come to life, it's just this painted block of wood with graffiti on it. Ick, that is a little depressing isn't it? Go back and read the happier poems!!