Creatures of
The night
Speaking only in
The language of
Wings in flight
Raucous caws and calls
Such stark delights
Their bird brains
A substance
To behold
They play and
They learn as
Ancient tales often told
They are symbols
Of fate and omens,
And "What's to be"
Guiding us along
Paths unknown
And simply unseen

Today was the first day of class.
You should have seen all the people.

Everyone couldn’t have had class, some of them must
have been gawkers, the types that slow to watch
flat tire changings and car wrecks.

Some were carrying maps - freshmen.
Like student drivers they clogged the paths,
drawing a few looks.

They gaggle together like geese,
Jeeezus - shut UP and get ON with it, freshies! I thought.
Not ungenerously - I remember being lost - back in the day.

I have class, myself - in both the intrinsic sense - of style -
and in the “research for credit” ‘check in on the first day,’ kind.

Still, we’re parading, and I’ve always loved parades.
My one regret is that there are no mimes or elephants.

ok.. poetry..
Stress is somewhere in my propinquity.
See, it’s known to stalk this vicinity.

I’m not a freshman, so it hasn’t struck yet,
but when it does, and it will, you can bet,
that initially, it will shake my tranquility
and end our start-of-year festivities.

It will creepily creep, destroying my sleep,
until I prove my scholastic resiliency.
.
.
Songs for this:
Violently Happy by Björk
Schoolin' Life by Beyoncé

Nearly everything worthwhile
has some form of a risk attached to it,
and the things that we want most,
often come at the greatest cost.

The less the cost is to us,
and the greater guarantee of no risk..
the more palatable
and placating the result becomes.

A jewel such as you need not
embed itself into dirt
in order to try to feel comfortable,
secure..

     asleep.

Each passing day
is a step down
an ever diverging
trail.

Is it useless
to wonder
if these winding paths
ever cross?

How many
will see me again?
How many
promises will be
kept?

If my second brain is my gut
and if my gut presents as a she,
does that mean that it's best that I think
that my head best thinks as a he?

And when I want to follow my heart,
does it flutter somewhere betwixt
that path that she feels down deep
and the path that he just can't resist?

When I find myself at a fork,
and it's not at all clear which ways mine,
my gut, my head and my heart -
they'll figure it out just fine.

But if ever I find I'm in doubt
which voice it is I should heed,
I just have to ask myself this,
- for which path I'd be happy to bleed?

found you at your worst
lift you on your worst state of all

under the moonlight, hands are tied
your eyes are sparkling like the stars
and your smile illuminates the darkness where i am placed

i look at you one,
i look at you twice,
you are there wearing that smile
i look at you thrice,
the smile you used to wear is gone
i look at you for the fourth,
you’re no longer on my side
i closed my eyes and breathed in,
there i saw you on the other side of the road