strange poem

for my creative writing class, we were told to write a poem of nonsense, using so many words from a list... rather an odd way to be inspired, but it worked. quite unexpectedly. i'm still not certain how i came up with this, but somehow, strange as it sounds, it's ok. at least, i think so. The meter and form also were dictated, and punctuation and rhyme restricted.

To say the mud is wavering
Requires a certain solitude,
For never in a crowd of rocks
Can reason free itself from you,
Nor drop and stop to swing around
And blow belief up to the roof.

The frogs, all blue, are cutting quick
Through folds and rolls of leather -
Using waves of frost as slaves,
Bruising sound and letters.
They hop then chop then turn to sing
Of snow that covers treasure.

My eye is throbbing sharp and cold
As waters come to bite my feet,
To fly through skies painted in red
Then fall, by call, down to the deep
Deep chasms neath the leather pile
And there rest, waiting, for my sleep.

I pitch my tent to bruise the ground
And tell important tales of woe -
All ears should hear my throat's lament
Although they all have thoughts their own -
For underneath my broken feet
It waits to take us all to ruin.

in other news, yesterday was bitter cold. cold, and windy. the atmosphere felt sheer, as if all space could blow its way past the surface of my skin. my nose felt as if it would crack, and pieces fall to the ground and shatter. i stayed inside as much as i could. and reminded myself never to go to antarctica.

i begin to feel twitchy. this makes me want to eat. peanut butter and crackers before bed? then some poetry - shelley or keats, perhaps. or elizabeth barrett browning, since that's homework. ah, what shall i ever do with myself once i leave academia?

God doesn't knit OR crochet... He snows

it's snowing.

as we walked to dinner, a few small pieces of white floated, barely visible under the lamplight, through the cold air. 'twas exciting, for tiny as they appeared, they heralded the possibility of many more. when i left dinner to head to class, they were a bit larger, and easier to see, but still merely a teaser. i sat through my hour and a half of class, which wasn't bad at all - certainly warmer than being outside - then climbed the stairs to see a world shielded by a lacy white shawl. where my feet touched the ground, they left black scars behind. the snow fell thicker, and larger, and slower then. most beautiful it was. i shivered my way across the quad, my feet slipping on the crunching ice and grass frozen in twisted and matted shapes, then entered a disappointingly cool theater. the movie was quite good, actually. amistad. very moving. and after that two and a half hours, the world's veil was drawn more tightly and more solidly across its face. and still the snow fell.

of course, by now it may have stopped. but i saw it start, and ambled through its freezing falling beauty. it took a mug of hot chocolate and fuzzy fleecy pants to warm me back to my normal temperature, but who cares? we finally have snow! after all the cold weather, there's something to show for it. and who wouldn't put up with some inconvenience and pain and shivers to see something - be in something - that glorious?

death and the cold

since my last post two more people back home have died. one i knew, the other i didn't. both were young. one was only a freshman in high school, i think, and it was a hit-and-run. almost exactly three years since jesse died, another wrestler... only this one got hit by a car instead of being in one. but still... almost seems unreal.

i'm back in mass now, and it's COLD. very cold. apparently it was warm over break, but now that school's starting again, the temperatures have plummeted. but, despite that, i think this will be a good semester. i'm looking forward to my classes, and i should be able to do well.

there's so much inside that is trying to climb out, but for now, i cannot think of how to say them. so i will attempt to continue to organize and understand and hopefully remain sane. may God grant me patience with myself.