I was browsing through a Norwegian architecture magazine and came across this quote; I instantly fell in love.

'We walked backwards into the future
and no one understood what we said
and we leapt through the centuries
but no one heard if we were approaching
or withdrawing...'
-by Tone Hødnebø

What does it mean to you?

Untitled.

Sometimes I don't enjoy my life.

The Poem of Enjambment

draw

a whistle

let there be color

or a blank slate.

tell the paper instead

admissions of your week

eked out in ink or pencil.

illness cannot last

still your heart will

illuminate the unobtainable

letting out the indomitable

letters of the spirit...

it was foretold that

at the end of us

usurped though we may be

because of the light in you

our hearts will still

illuminate our world.

** Enjambment means letting one line flow over into the next; not ending a sentence on just one line of a poem. I've taken this and tweaked it so that the last two letters of each line are the first two letters of the first word on the next line! Enjoy!

ranting and raining

this is getting to be too much. Im not going to use proper punctuation and stuff because im writing from my phone and cant be bothered to tap the screen each time...but now. This is truly getting frustrating. Im getting so tired of people..its like they think that just because for a few days im not with them, that this means i have had plenty of time for myself. Or that because im their friend my days off must needs revolve around them; like i dont have family i need to spend time with, too. There are a few other things eating away at me too, but this blog isnt 100 percent private anymore so i wont mention that. Im so fed up, though. Its been a while since ive been this upset. Im ready to do something drastic...i mean, im taking a summer class, and this is my third time taking the course. So who in the heck do you think you are so special that i should jeopardize my future for a few hours with you? To those who are considerate of what im trying to do, thanks so much. To all the rest, bug off! Seriously, i wouldnt mind breaking off a whole lot of relationships..i dont need them. Im really annoyed. And im gonna be a whole lot more annoyed when i read back over this and see all my grammatical errors, but im livid right now and i need to vent. Sigh. Im going to pay attention in class now. Bye.

Bucket List ^_^

And it looks like I'm finally back to regular blogging...but don't worry, the poems will keep coming =).

I can't explain why just yet, but I'm giving myself one year to do these things. Only one.

*Inspired by "If Today Was Your Last Day" by Nickelback*

1. Visit Gettysburg
2. Visit Washington, D.C.
3. Visit Seattle, Washington and Forks, Washington
4. Road trip to Cincinatti, Ohio (Or wherever Cody lives)
5. Finally go to Six Flags
6. Get an A in Chemistry

*smiles*
That last one is a stretch, I know. But hey. Anything's possible.

~Cahryn K.

Winter Rain

The skies are grey, and so is
my soul...
the drops that fall are icy
and cold
and void of feeling or pain
But not so the drops that fall from
my soul.
These bear the heat of a brand,
scorching my countenance as
they fall
Leaving tracks of burnt flesh and wounded
spirit.
And so I stand at my window and turn my face
to the sky
so that the drops that fall thereof
may cool the burn
and I watch the steam as it rises
from my pain and curls
drifting out and down under
the winter rain.

The Longing

Dry the Sahara -
soak up every
particle of sweat that dares trespass
on the perpetual sanded dunes

Scorch the center
of that inextinguishable ball called Sun -
implode every atom, burn every molecule
of the abundant Element that persists

Freeze the Tundra -
that cold, barren place
where no life grows but the lichen
and even that is devoured by those who yearn for the heat
that burns true

Melt my heart
that darkened Spector of a once-was-flesh
the hardened culprit in many a crime
that beats in the solemnity and solitude of millions like it...
alone

Pour in the blood
wash out the ichor - the stain of the wrong of her years
cleanse with the red, swath with the white
and yield this moment a softly pulsing,
truly living,
honest red in my breast.