Blue like Jazz
and a lonely night

Red like Rage
and a feel of fright

Chaotic Calm
in fields of thunder

Reclaiming Grace
after a blowing blunder...

Sick of being Sick at Christmas

So, it seems to be a trend with me to be sick and somewhat miserable during the Christmas season. I'm on track to be sick for the fifth year in a row.

In 2005, I was of course sick with cancer during the holidays and spent Christmas morning in the hospital. That's the most extreme it has been, but that was the beginning of my terrible immune system.

In 2006, my dad had cancer during Christmas, but fortunately he was not in the hospital. We were just anticipating his upcoming surgery at the beginning of the year. I believe I also had a bad sinus infection as well.

In 2007 I had a staph infection on my right leg that was so painful I could barely sit down. I spent Christmas morning with a heating pad on my leg.

In 2008 it was another sinus infection/cold. Antibiotics meant no celebratory wine for me.

Now here we are in 2009 and I am yet again on antibiotics and other various medications.

So, my goal for 2010 is to be marathon ready on Christmas morning. I want to be obnoxiously hyper and ready for anything. In fact, it would be nice to not get sick all year long.

Dear Santa:

Please bring me the cure for horrible sinuses and a low immune system. And don't make it an exercise plan....I'm too lazy. ;)

xoxo

Beth

In Remembrance of No One

I wrote In Remembrance of No One during my Sophomore year of college. I was in a British Literature class with an amazing teacher who allowed me to utilize poetry for the assigned essays and other assigments. This is an anti-war poem that I wrote in response to the book Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. This was one of the first poems that I spent several days working on and even allowed assistance. (thanks mom!) It even follows a 12-beat parmater through out the entire piece - which is not something I usually take the time to do. Needless to say...I got an A. :)

Alone in a land we are forced to call our own
Tempted to run from the pain that reaches the bone
Fighting a screaming silence in a crowded field
But freedom, self-worth and love forces us to yield

We wait for the cries of Victory! and Success!
The final outcome a soldier will never guess
They say we are seeking peace for all who live here
But blood shed and lives lost is only raising fear

I’m tempted to throw up my white flag and march out –
To completely forget what fighting is about.
This gross excuse for peace is breaking me apart
But somewhere deep within, victory tugs my heart

Bullets fire and no one knows where they will end –
In the heart of darkness or in the heart of friend?
Red blood is shed in remembrance of no one
But bodies are given unto the sky and Son

Alleluia and blessed be the ones who fought
They stayed strong with their pride, but was it all for naught?
Some were scared; others were brave; all with thoughts to leave;
But men are strong as stone and not allowed to grieve

So we march on to an enemy with no face
Keeping rhythm with the breaths of life, love and grace
If we win we are God’s, if we lose we are shown -
Alone in a land we are forced to call our own.

Escape

Face to face with the sun
I turn my back and run

Disguise my gait
Disguise my fate

I will not stop to leave a trail
My commotion would only fail

He said it’s a lie to run away
But you know I’ll do it anyway

Reaching for the cure
I’ll fall and break for sure

But this time I won’t cry
This time I won’t lie

Those who know will follow
Those who don’t I’ll swallow

Just another mistake I have made
Another price I have paid

No walking into the sunset
Just running from the onset

Curious eyes will scrutinize
Curious minds will criticize

But I’m not the first to fall from the shelf
To seek freedom from my very own self

Glee

Glee is my favorite show and I'm not even going to hide it. What is not to love about a high school Glee club that breaks out into song at just the right time? I mean seriously, it is my dream come true. I'm always singing and dancing (whether I should be or not). I had a friend tell me once that every time we are in a room where there is even a hint of music, he notices that I'm either tapping my foot or swaying around. It's true, I can't help it. Music cannot escape me.
But what's entirely unfair is that I can't really sing or dance. I mean, I can blend in and pretend, but I often wonder why a person such as me with a mad passion for music, was not given the gift of a voice. I would give anything to be able to sing like Kelly Clarkson. Her voice is powerful.
Anyways, you don't have to remind me that I am a total nerd, but I love Glee. Just watch the show, it's a mixture of every type of person brought together by music. The cheerleaders, the jocks, the nerds, a gay guy, etc etc. Where else can you find that!?
I'm gonna make a grown up Glee. C'mon, admit it...you want to join and you want a solo.

Hotel de' Night

I've found myself in the lobby of the hotel of my mind
I am greeting guests who have arrived on time

These are the regulars who only come at night
And are never quite satisfied with what I try to do right

You see, there's the worrier who comes with too many bags
And it weighs him down and his shoulders sag

He slows down the check-in process with his concerns
And refuses the concept of taking turns

Then there's the angry one who is mad from the start
Everyone is to blame for the things that tear at his heart

He screams at the world and he screams at himself -
He screams to break the silence that comforts everyone else

In walks the list maker who tries to make sense of it all
And organize the frustrations of tomorrow's brawl

I can't help but wonder who may be arriving next
And whether or not he'll be paying with a check

You see, the financial planner just came striding in
And I think the worrier will be his closest friend

Eventually all of these guests will mold into one
And that is when my night will be done...or will it have just begun?

Their voices will quiet and my eyes will rest
As I turn out the lights on my hotel guests...

Word Torches

She writes the words as if they are little torches of fire burning in her mind. Without their release there will certainly be torture and a dispute among those who wrote them before – or simply those who placed them in her head to begin with. She’s not always looking for the final resolution - just looking to rid herself of an urge; an urge that refuses to subside, no matter how hard she tries. Sometimes these thoughts paralyze her. She knows she needs to form them into sanity, but she freezes at the most inopportune time and every idea gets shot to hell, or to the depths of her mind – however you wish to metaphorically draw it out. The depth of her soul is probably not as torturous as she would like others to believe, however, she wants to express herself as though it was. She’s protecting herself from something that hasn’t even happened yet – or maybe it’s something that never goes away. These words linger in her for days and weeks at a time and she hates fragmented sentences, so she doesn’t put them down for anyone to see. When the words finally start bleeding, the perfectionist inside her says it isn't good enough and often times innocent thoughts get swept away as though they never existed.

I've finally learned to speak even if it doesn't make sense. To write it down now and understand it later. Sift through the memory banks and record what I remember. I can't keep what I love most inside me. I have a strange fascination with words and the formation of thoughts...it's time I start expressing that sentiment more often.