10 Lines: Butterfly

Ten Lines

Me: Butterfly confused flies ‘round the world

(and back)

Dream: Window, breeze of sea curtain blows you and me

Fear: Dark cold empty place, void of light, void of space,

Beauty: Quick curve, gentle lips, your smile, hands on hips—kiss

Truth: Light always conquers dark

Three words: I trust you.

Begins: But fear shadows hope,

…: Making me dizzy, making me sick, making me forget

They said: Love is constant, love is true,

Butterfly: Yet I fly, wings of blue and purple flirting with the sky.

I: Butterfly

Salty breeze curtains you and me,

Quick curve, gentle lips, your smile, hands on hips—

I need you!

Make me dizzy, make me free, make me forget

That I fly on wings of blue yearning for sky,

They claim: Love was constant, ever true;

Hope swallowed fear;

Light vanquished dark, and

From a cold dark empty point

I escape to fly ‘round the world

(and back into your arms).

Destroying Dark

Darkness complete and over whelming enters every part of me

My soul enshrouded with the blackness, I wander in despair

Void and nothing but my sin, my pride

Lucifer, a fallen star, a brother to my soul

I am lost, all hope is gone

I cry my anguished heart

And in this never ending sea of blackness the world echoes me.

 

The cry is lost in the consuming dark

It crushes any sound, destroys all but pain

My heart and soul plead silently

The empty cold that fills me, the ice with hollow sound

Begins to melt as my spirit burns with truth

The plea is heard by the heart of the Divine,

 

As I am filled with radiant feeling from the God of love

I look around the empty blackness and see,

I see the tiniest pin-prick, the farthest tear of light

My joy abounds, my hope is found

Redemption of my sins - humility

The dark is ripped and torn asunder by the purest white

The void is filled, the darkness vanquished, conquered

By never-ending light.

 

Fracture (Albert Paley 1996)

Scattered Thoughts:

At base: Broken pieces of a puzzle

Will not fit

Fallen shape

Gathered in a column’s mess

Weathered steel

Shaped

Crafted

Edges smoothed

Carved land by water

Worn

Wayward ways,

Gentle curves and

Breaks—

Alone.

At side: Out stretched eagles wings—soaring—no longer chained to earth

Piercing through thick air—emptiness—there is no sky

Sweeping wind—cloud—howling wolf

There is no moon—star—just this room

By the stairwell—hide—it and I

Alone.

At top: The shadow cast

makes a jagged

clock

ticking at the time

telling, tearing, touching

each moment passing

still

Alone.

Gathered thoughts: Soft brown steel

Hiding to reveal

In corner left,

Bereft,

It stays—

Cobweb plays

Dusts settle

Rusts mettle,

Shadows cast

At long last

Draws my appeal

Alone.

Jellyfish

My family visits aquariums frequently. I loved staying for hours and watching the sea creatures swim and wave in the water. I longed to be a mermaid and enter that world of color and salt--perhaps I would live in a seaweed forest or coral reef. My youngest brother, Will, did not share my awe, one could scarcely blame him, he was not yet walking and was confined to Mom's arms.

In one room, the dim glow of manufactured light emanated from large, salty tanks. Fish swam--not gold fish or carp, but gigantic sea dwellers brought to the aquarium for us to watch and wonder at. I stared at every tank in turn; Will squirmed in Mom's arms and fussed. "We'll have to go soon," Mom said. I glowered at Will. Dragging my feet I followed her.

Suddenly, Will was still and silent. I quickly saw what had captured him--a cylider tank filled with orange jellyfish. They were dancing and floating through the water; a spiral of orange touched with crimson. Will was enthralled. We didn't leave the aquarium for hours.

On Seeing Butterflies (On Seeing England)

I do not remember when my fascination began, it seems as though I was always enthralled by the smooth curves and vivid colors of butterfly wings. Their wings bear resemblance the first letter of my name 'B' so the same is familiar and friendly. Gently they glide in the air--bright spots of color on fields of green or skies of blue. The lines, curves, dots, and colors of butterfly wings mimic flowers and eyes in an attempt hide. Gently, beautifully, and delicately the hide, but always fail to stay hidden. Watching, I covet their elegance.

I try to claim butterflies by plastering my car and letters with stickers of these winged creatures. My friends even call me a social butterfly and tease, "If Brittney ever got a tattoo, it would be of a butterfly." But I cannot claim them, they are mysterious and free. They are beautiful, but their beauty is fleeting--they are frail and fall like autumn leaves when chilled wind kisses their wings.

The Stone Man

My imagination: Noble tall and proud he stands firm as wind buffets him, eroding and smoothing this rough man. Patriotism burning in his stone heart and he will not waver. Guardian of good and right he carries truth and justice through summer storm and winter heat, never faltering. His dominion is of sagebrush and unending sky.

He will never change, this warrior of a distant day. Unyielding he remains through all that changes.

My memory: Hiking with my two best friends. Laughter. Chatter. Stories. Exquisite views and interesting rock formations. Snapping many pictures, this is only one to commemorate that day.

Facts: sagebrush, dirt, trees, grass, and rocks.

Revision

My writing is part of me; it is a glimpse at my core.
It is far from perfect, as am I.
It is often far from good, but it is mine.
I know that I must revise because no line is right,
but it tears at my soul to change a point.
Yet in each change I make,
in every red mark and line erased,
I find...I find not heartache or despair,
but rather that in change
--in mending my sad ways--
something good comes from my wretched lines.
Revision, like repentance, lets this sinner mend mistakes
and give the gift of better things.

A time I was totally happy (Chap 7 Warm Up)

He called! Complete and utter bliss was mine--my wide grin would not vacate my face. I wanted to shout to the world--HE CALLED! All was right and all was well, my heart danced giving rhythm to my joy. I found joy in that rainy day, the dinner I burnt, and grumpy customers all because he called. His voice sent waves of happiness through all because he called.

Baking Soda and Vinegar

In Sally's cupboard there lived Baking Soda and Vinegar. Vinegar came first, but later Baking Soda joined and the two bickered like old cats. Sally took Baking Soda from the cupboard more frequently than Vinegar and this grieved Vinegar. "It's really not fair," she sniffed, I was here first, I have the prior claim." "Well, maybe if you weren't so bitter and mopey, Sally would like you better," retorted Baking Soda.

This continued for ages and the others got tired of their fighting. "You two really should stop," scolded Pepper. "I've never seen anyone act so childish," added Salt. "She started it," scowled Baking Soda. "Did not!" "Did too!" "Hush!!!" ordered Paprika.

But they wouldn't stop. "Did not!" "Did too!"
"Did not!" "Did too!"
"Did not!" "Did too!"
"Did not!" "Did too!"

This continued until Vinegar hit Baking Soda. They both exploded.

Sally was startled by the mess and kept Vinegar and Baking Soda apart so there was peace in the cupboard ever after.

Eng 218R Goals

My main goal for this class is simple: improve my creative writing. One of my "Things to Do Before I Die" goals is to write a complete novel--it doesn't have to be a published work, just something I'm happy with. In this class I want to stretch myself and improve the quality of my work. : )

Nevada Drives (7.8)

The sun beat upon my little blue Mazda loaded down with clothes, books, a bike, me, and Dad. The drive from Sacramento to Provo mainly consisted of Nevada. My over protective father would not let me make the trip alone. The sun blazed hotter as we crossed the Nevada/California line. The CD player died with a pitiful moan; the radio only found static intermixed with sounds that must have been music but resembled nothing pleasant. The sun reached its highest, hottest point and the A/C joined the CD player the afterlife. We rolled down the windows and the wind blew hot and heavy.
I was eager for the trip to end. Dad didn't say much; he never was a big talker. My whole family's really close, but Mom's the big talker. Maybe it's her Italian blood that causes her tongue to move with such animation and her hands to fly with every word. If it had been Mom and I driving silence would not have entered the car, but it wasn't, and silence was only briefly punctuated with conversation.
Staring at the empty landscape, I noticed little towers scatter here and there along the road. "It was in one of those towers I proposed to your mother," he said. I smiled. I'd heard the story so many times, it was one of Mom's favorites. I had the whole thing memorized, even the parts they disagreed on.
They had been dating for six weeks and I'm not sure why, but they decided to visit Dad's cousin in Utah. They made the same drive we were making, Sacramento to Provo (Maybe it was Ogden, but regardless, it was the same desert). The trip was uneventful, but then something happened in Utah. Dad's cousin took him aside and said something, not sure what exactly, but Dad started acting weird and Mom got mad.
When Mom's mad she doesn't talk--her silence is likely the most frightening thing on Earth. Also, Mom hates driving, but she insisted on driving on the trip home. Silently she clutched the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead and refusing to glance at Dad. Dad didn't dare speak. It was dark out, possibly as dark as Mom's mood. Then there was a lightening storm with huge bolts illuminating the sky or it was a meteor shower: they always disagree on which.
Mom suddenly pulled off the road, jerking the car and parking at the base of a tower. Mom jumped out. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I'm going to look at the sky," she answered angrily. She climbed the tower and stood with arms stubbornly crossed. It's likely her eyebrows were creased and her eyes dark, I've seen that face before.
Dad approached the base of the ladder or stairs (I don't know which) and asked softly, "Can I come up?" "Sure." Carefully he climbed and softly he stepped nearer. When he dared move no closer, Dad felt to on one knee and said, "I wasn't going to do this now, but will you marry me?"
Her anger vanished instantly. She accepted. They kissed. Mom says there were fireworks; it was like they really kissed for the first time. And now, twenty plus years later, they're still talking about that kiss.
My smile broadened and Dad added, "I was a really good kiss." We kept driving. The Nevada heat and wind continued and the subject changed. We passed more empty towers and I thought how once, one of them was filled with two people completely in love. This is not a fairy tale. Life has been nothing like perfect for them, but they are still in love and in twenty more years they will still be in love.
That my point I guess--love lasts. Love is ineloquent, uneventful, and true. Nations rise and fall, times and people change, but love in simple purity lasts for eternity.