Posts Tagged ‘innocence’

Poppy Tears

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

Even flowers cry sometimes
What do they have to cry about?
They are so pretty

But they won’t stay pretty for long
And it isn’t about being pretty
It is about loosing life
Where did they loose it?
I laughed softly
Resting my hand on her shoulder
I don’t know
Maybe they left it under their bed
And forgot it was there
I did that once
She said with a sad sigh
I know I said smiling
Maybe they lost it
In the playground
Hidden under a sandy Everest
I think I get it
The flowers have lost their petals
And that is why they are sad

Exactly and they cry for each others loss
Then why doesn’t it make me sad?
Different things make different people sad
I say with a frown
Watching the poppy’s tears
Roll down its face
You will understand when you are older
But I want to understand now!
I know, I say with a smile
I know as I guide her away
To happier things
To flowers with open faces
Smiling at the sun
But she will never forget
The crying flower
Knowing that every flower she sees
Will cry someday
For what it lost in the sandbox
Or under the bed
We all loose something in the end


Creeper Photo: Little Snow Dancer

Monday, December 27th, 2010

Snow is such a magical thing, I wish that I had gotten to go to the snow more often as a child myself to experience the wonder of snow. Like this little girl, dancing and running in the snow. There is such innocence in just playing around in the snow. She and her little brother where running around just having fun with each other by the ski lift. It is refreshing to know that people, whether just children or not, can appreciate the innocence that nature provides.


Twisted Twister

Friday, December 3rd, 2010

It seems as if all of the most childish and supposedly innocent things are the most twisted. One of the most twisted is the kids game Twister. It seems so innocent, but it actually is a perverse and awkward game unlike any other. Hidden under the guise of childhood innocence, it is deviously deceptive in its twisted ways.

Case and point, need I say more? Yes, I do. The main problem about this game is it’s total lack of boundary space. There is no such thing as personal space in this game, with arms and legs crossing and criss crossing across numerous people. Nothing is sacred.

This game is meant for little chidren, so for teengaers it was slightly difficult to fit on the mat making the space issue even more of a problem as you can see. There is alsways something awkward waiting around the corner in this game.

The main way to win is to get into such an awkward position that your oppenent can not continue due to death by laughter.

It just makes me wonder the people who invented this game, they must be twisted people indeed. The name twister is perfect for what this game actually is, a perverted and twisted thing. But damn is it fun to watch!


The Butcher

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

A little boy runs
Through a crowded market place
His arms held out
As he weaves between all the people
A little toy airplane
Held tight in his outstretched hand
He runs along
With a smile plastered on his face
Making airplane noises
All around him is the sound
Of a society
Perpetually on the move
Haggling, arguing
Agreeing, thanking
All the mouths moving
As they converse amongst each other
The boy hears a loud noise
He slows as he runs
It alone stands out
One noise in a world of clatter
It rings in his ears
Finally he stops
As the pounding noise
Is right in front of him
Looking at the market stall
Placed before him
A butcher stands
A meat cleaver in one hand
Humming happily
As he chops into the meat
Of an animals dead corpse
The crack of bones
As the metal crushes
The animal’s dead body
Crack crack crack
It echoes in the boys ears
As the butcher wedges the knife
Out of the cutting board
Out of the pile of pulverized meat
The butcher wipes the blood
On his white apron
Laughing as he notices the boy
Standing there motionless
His arms dangling limp
At his sides
The butcher brings the cleaver down
Again and again
The boy flinches each time
Following each little movement
With eyes wide
Hands gripping tightly onto
The little toy airplane
The butcher spits to the side
And looks down his nose
At the small innocent boy
He snorts again
You wanna try kid?
It’s fun

He holds out the cleaver
Stained in blood
The little boy drops the toy
And steps forward
Out of his old world
And into a new one
As he grabs onto the knife
To big for his tiny hands
The forgotten toy sits on the ground
It is crushed beneath the crowd
As it moves forward
Always moving
The boy doesn’t notice
The crack of bones resounds
Echoing into a crowd that doesn’t listen
And doesn’t care
Except for the little crushed airplane toy
That lays broken and forgotten
As a boy walks away from innocence
Into a world of blood
As the cleaver falls

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Posted in Poetry |

Creeper Photos

Monday, September 7th, 2009

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Call me creepy, I don’t really care. One of my favorite things to do is take photos of random people. You can find some of the most amzing things in random people, whether it is beauty, innocence, creativity, a sense of adventure, or just being human. People interest me greatly. So here are a few of my creeper pictures that I have taken. Hopefully you can see what I see in these people, human nature in all of its tiny facets.

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Posted in Photos |