Something like that

I want to write something that sounds like an acoustic guitar.
Something that's soft and slow, with a simple rhythm behind it
that's played out onto your ears by my agile fingertips
so that the chords I play resonate with your heartstrings
as I pick out the melody that picks at your mind
asks you to stop and take a moment to think.

I want to write something that feels like a warm laptop on your legs.
A gradual gradient of warmth that's so soothing when it's gloomy outside
Something that reminds me of home; something that's an unexpected nice surprise
something that leaves a space that you notice once it's gone.

I want to write something that looks like a sunrise.
Something that you wait for, that you anticipate
knowing that the end result is just a bright sun that's shaped like a round of applause
but it's the colors that the clouds are streaked with
and the shapes that they take
that make the patience worth it.

I want to write something that sounds like a heavy bass line.
Something that surrounds you and resonates in your chest
something that makes you close your eyes and feel what it's like to be alive
To feel what it's like to be possessed by a beat other than your own heart
Something that makes you want to dance
because there's no other way left to express yourself.

I want to write something that looks a rainbow
you know what happened for it to form
but when it's in front of you, you stare at it for a moment
give it its time to shine
because you're not really sure
when it will disappear
or where it ends.

Little Squishy Chimeras of Awesome

I always feel the need to write whenever I start studying.
Like there's a little switch in my mind that lets me ponder many things at one time, and it only turns on when I try to focus on just one thing.
Say- right now.
I have a final tomorrow (AND IT'S NOT EVEN FINALS WEEK YET WHAT IS THIS)
and I've already figured out that there are at LEAST 5 other things that would be so much more amazingly better than studying right now.
Liiiiiike writing.

But not even writing poetry. No, no. Writing a stream of consciousness that is just me rambling via my keyboard so that I am entertained by my procrastination.
If I could produce something worthwhile to read later (which has also been known to happen), I could very easily make and excuse for me to be doing this right now.
But this is just nonsense. That makes sense. (Haha- I can make puns)

I also can focus because there's been something bothering me for about a week now.
Just popping up in my head at random moments
When I'm driving
When I'm walking around campus to dubstep music and acting really epic
When I'm making a delicious quesadilla

I keep thinking about gummi bears.
Gummi bears? Gummy bears? (WHY IS THE LAST VOWEL INTERCHANGEABLE?!)
First of all, where did they come from?
Who came up with the brilliant idea that it would be a good idea to put some semi edible semi solid goo into a semi bear shape and then color it- ta da! candy!
(I know that I could just wikipedia this- but I much prefer being hypothetical)

but think about it. What's the deal with gummy bears???
They have an extremely strange consistency. They don't taste good when they're warm- trust me, I've tried. Even if you heat them up on purpose, something happens to the flavor that makes it seem like they've been sitting in a mini van in the sun for a few hours. Not just a regular car- a mini van.
and they SUCK when they're cold.
Ice cream? Delicious and full of sugary goodness.
gummy bears? Usually delicious and definitely full of sugary goodness.
Ice cream and gummy bears together? DEATH OF YOUR MOLAR TEETH.
The gummy bears no longer even taste good; they become these evil little technicolor rocks that you have to chew through or let them sit in your mouth for 2.37 minutes (rough estimate) until you can get back to eating your delicious ice cream.
Also, I just used a semicolon properly. I love semicolons so much; I could use them every day.
TWICE IN A ROW. GRAMMAR WIN.

Anyways, the thing that I don't understand the most about gummy bears (gummi bears? IS IT AN I OR A Y?!) is the fact that they have a strange counterpart- the gummy worm.
BUT gummy worms are MULTICOLORED.
Who decided that the worms get to be all cool and have ridges on them and have multiple colors/flavors?! (I'm still not convinced that color is directly correlated with flavor. Experimental results are still under analyzation.)
Why can't gummy bears also be little squishy chimeras of awesome?!
I have also just decided that I am now going to call gummy worms "little squishy chimeras of awesome".

But none of this helps with the fact that I should have been studying... but this has been infinitely more entertaining.

One final thought:
Why must it always be SO DAMN NICE OUTSIDE whenever finals roll around?
It's like mother nature just loves mocking college students
"haha, you usually have free time between classes so you could play outside and frolic in the sunshine but too bad it's been so gloomy recently. Oh, what's that? It's finals week? I'VE GOT A POCKET FULL OF SUNSHINE!!!!"
Well I'll tell you what you can do with that pocket full of sunshine, mother nature.....
YOU CAN USE IT TO MAKE ALL THE DAMN GUMMY BEARS EXPLODE SO THAT THEY WILL STOP DISTRACTING ME.

thank you.

My generation

I'm talking about my generation
who grew up playing with legos
because they wanted to know what it was like
to build up something bigger than themselves
who has GPS on their phones
but no idea where they're going
who can raise the roof
but don't know how to raise expectations

I'm talking about my generation
The young girls who will become the mothers of the future
the boys who carry their ambition on strong shoulders
perfectly poised on the precipice of making a difference
cradling our fate in their fingertips
singing it to sleep with linguistic lullabies
promises of tomorrow that are just sweet sounding lies
because we can't go forward
if we don't know what's behind us

I'm talking about my generation
the ones who learn from their own mistakes
but don't take advantage of the lessons of our parents
We should know by now
that victors of brawls over resources only end up with
oppressive guilt, damaged psyches, and trembling bloody hands

I'm talking about my generation,
growing up in the shadow of destruction
that's actually bloodstains in the sand
sending soldiers off to an unknown cause
because digging holes is good for finding oil and for making graves
Where are the marches, the protests, the resounding voice of youths
that know we've got our guns pointed in the wrong direction?

I would talk to my generation,
but I don't think they're listening
the volume on their ipods is too high
blaring out the fact that
my generation wakes up in the morning
to brush their teeth with a bottle of jack
so that the taste of last night's regret is fresh on their tongues.

I'm talking about my generation
who needs to take a physics lesson
to understand how to turn their potential into kinetic energy
how to get this revolutionary ball rolling

I'm talking about my generation
who binges on role models
eating up the images and ideas
that we have supposedly chosen to define success
media men with mass produced metal spoons that have been feeding us since day 1
but we can't get any nourishment from
stick thin models with hollowed out eyes who see the rest of the world as extra calories
and juiced up guidos that waste ink on their skin
don't understand why it's a bad thing that the number of chin ups they can do is higher than their IQ

I'm talking about my generation
who have closed the blinds on their windows to the world
and have become blinded
to all the people that need help
to all the problems that are about to fall into our unsteady hands
to all the facts that tell us that we are killing ourselves slowly

I'm talking about my generation
who's dying for change
but can't find a cause worth dying for
who will never see tomorrow cast in granite
because the future isn't set in stone.
who can look up destiny in the dictionary
only to see that our fate isn't defined

I'm talking about my generation
I'm talking about achieving greatness
about the next leaders
about the impact we will have
I'm talking about today
about right now
about quitting
the apathetic lazy lifestyles that has infected us faster than a disease

I'm talking about our generation
but actions speak louder than words
so i'm taking a stand
right here, in front of you
asking what you're willing to do
asking
how many voices will raise up
how many sparks of passion will blaze up
because the timer's counting down till our days're up
I'm gonna lift the bar until it stays up
to make a better society
enlist in an alternate reality
where we choose empathy over apathy
Change is now. the future is ours.
whatever we decide
we'll make it to be.

Baby

Baby,
I kept you close and warm; I protected you with myself.
I felt you grow and turn and kick
with tiny little feet that danced on the inside of my belly
I wish that I could keep your little eyes closed
so that you wouldn't have to look upon the pain in this world.
I wish that you could wrap your hand around my pinky finger
so that you always have someone to hold on to.
I wish that I could always sing lullabies into your tiny ears
so that you won't have to hear any of the lies
that so many people will whisper to you
I wish that I could hold you close
so that you would know the rhythm of my body
the beat that you were born from
the baseline underneath your eyelids
the soft thump thump thump that you danced your little feet to on the inside of my belly.

I wish I could take all your innocence and tie it to your ring finger so that you could promise not to lose it.
I wish that you would understand that I will always be here
I'll be your rock to cling to when the tsunami waves rise
when the ocean tries to claim you
remind it that you're a child of the earth
I'll be your good morning kiss
the first thing that you feel
so that you can remember me the whole day
I'll be the string to your kite
letting you soar on the passing breezes
but keeping you tied to the ground

I would apologize for this world, but you wouldn't understand.
I wish I could phrase the lessons I've learned so that you wouldn't make my mistakes
but you are just as unique as I was
and if you're anything like me
you're not going to listen, anyway.

I'll leave you with this:
don't be afraid to stand up for yourself or speak out for what you love.
Falling in love is just that- falling. You don't do it on purpose, and once you do, you hope to hell that you don't hit the ground.
If you lose yourself, remember that you just have to go through the maze of your mind to find your way back to your center.
And that I will always be a warm hug on a cold january night.
I'll pull you close to me, stroke your hair, and say that I love you.

Babushka

This is for you, Babushka.
Eight letters that mean more than "grandmother"
they are the moment I first learned that word.
As a little girl whose clothes never matched
knew that unicorns existed but were just good at hiding
only knew pain as skinned knees
and joy as an extra bedtime story.

I was seven years young, with wide blue eyes
that lit up when i found out
there was name for my favorite grandmother
spoken in Russian, your native language
So i knew that the next time I saw you
I could tell you that I understood your heritage
with those eight little letters
My sister wasn't lucky enough to know the word I held close
like one of my favorite stuffed animals
So it would be our secret.
Whispered during the goodbyes of family gatherings
Goodbye grandpa, Goodbye grandma- bye babushka
so with tiny hands, a big imagination, and no creative talent
I drew you a picture of us.
marker scribbles of blue grass, an orange sun
and two smiling stick figures
with arrows and labels to make sure you knew
that it was my babushka- and me.

Back when I was still small enough to fit in your arms
like we were part of the same nesting doll set
When I was sit in your lap and put your glasses on my face
becuase I liked your outlook on the world better than my own
When your voice played out a light melody
tinkling and trilling like piano keys
When you laugh would surround me and kiss my ears like hummingbird wings
and all I could say is "I love you."

Now, there isn't enough kindness in the world without you here
because when you were around, I always had a reason to smile.
I'm finding more unlit roads without your radiant smile to light the way
and I quickly get lost on the paths I find
without your gentle hands to guide me.

I wish I had taken the chance to ask
grandmother, how do you dance?
How do you carry yourself with such grace across the stage of life?
How do you shine so brightly that you don't need a spotlight?
How to you cast your worries aside and float with dainty feet?

How did you stand tall against the voices that told you your worth was related to your gender
with a straight strong spine, you spoke for yourself.
Grandmother, how did you become strong?
What sort of weights did your heart have to lift before it was able to support so many?

If I look in the mirror in 60 years
and see a reflection of who you are- who you were
I will know I lived well and be proud of my identity
I hope that I stay connected to you
So now, I dance for more than myself..
I dance for two.
Each motion brings you closer to my heart and yet reminds me that you're so far away
When I move, my chest thumps with the rhythm of my own drum that now tells me secrets
lets me know I don't move alone
that as long as my toes skim across the floor
and there is still music in my bones
Even if you're not here
you're still
My babushka.