Your Eyes

The shimmer and sway of candle light,
the thin thread of fire that dances on wick,
the starlit night sparkling overhead,
the sunshine on the first day of summer,

pale in comparison to the glow in your eyes.
For your’s contain the brilliance and beauty
of all the lights on earth. They are
electrifying, entrancing and exciting.

They strike me at my core,
the catalyst to the warmth I feel
every time our separate glances meet
and I cannot look away.

How inhumane the moment feels
when we must part our gaze.
my impassioned mind yearns for you
until we see each other again.



The simple pleasure of your company goes beyond simplicity.
Like the incomprehensible vastness of space, I feel overwhelmed.
Your eyes are hypnotizing and memorizing.
And I lose myself as I lose my balance and fall into your arms.

I’ve never known a heart to beat so akin to mine
With a passion I couldn’t conceive until I held you.
And when I kiss your lips, my joy threatens to burst forth
like fireworks of desire as loud as my laughter.

It’s with humility I must admit, I just can’t understand
How I could find myself with someone so beautiful,
Who loves me through the challenges,
And makes me feel complete.

Leaving Maine

Sometime soon I’ll be leavin’
The land that I love far behind
the tale of my life will start to unravel
While I stumble through the thing blind.

But I’ll find myself with longing
For the land in which I was born
Of the air and the trees and the mountains and foliage
Pristine even in thunder storms

Now I don’t know when I’ll return
But the warmth of the fire on a cold winter’s night still burns

So when I arrive in places
Where the people will only look down
I’ll pack up my bags and aim for the northern air
After I turn my self ’round

It may be hard for some to process
The feelings that I possess
But once you’ve star-gazed by the edge of her rivers
You’ll know you want nothing less

And I don’t know when I’ll return to you
To your sweet lovely pines and lakes of blue

I’ll never forget the way that Maine has treated me
I’ll take with me a piece of the way life should be.

A Look at my Former Self

I was looking through some of my old notebooks and journals today as I was packing some things up to head back to college. As a rising junior it feels like middle school and high school was a lifetime ago, but the stuff that I wrote then jogged my memory now and reminded me of how I thought back then. Here’s some of the stuff I found from the summer before my freshman year in high school:

Young summer breeze blows your hair about,
Hiding and revealing your dark brown eyes like the branches of a willow tree.
I have to blink twice because I think I see an angel sitting across from me.
With a smile like the sun and a laugh that melts my heart
You rival mother nature with her god-given beauty and unintended grace.
Let’s remember this moment for a lifetime.


I found a key,
I knew not where it goes.
A door in a tree,
Where the west wind blows?
The tree I found,
But not a door.
I fell to the ground.
My legs so sore.
I searched so long,
for nothing at all.
A slow cold song;
I let the key fall.
No need to search
For what can’t be found,
And there by the birch
I left the key on the ground.


Red ant, you look like a small piece of a perfect society.
Bring me the reason why you toil for no self-benefit, but instead, the benefit of all your kind. How do you do it? How can we humans achieve a state where we no longer wish only for more for ourselves? A state where we work together for a better world. Why can’t we all work together to better mankind, rather than working against each other to better ourselves? Bring me the way, the path to world peace, and a happier planet.

The True Feelings of a Gnat

You are such a warm person!

Seriously, you are probably the most interesting person I have ever seen. You are funny, and I enjoy your wit and charm.

That’s a mighty fine shirt you are wearing. Your fashion sense is impeccable. I wish I could wear all the things that you wear, and I wish I could pull them off like you do.

I know you really don’t want my friends and I around. Some of my relatives suck, but please don’t brush me away. I just want to whisper in your ear. Even if you can’t understand what I say, I still want to try to tell you that you seem pretty special. We all really like you.

I wish I could give you a big hug and spend a day or two with you. We would probably be best friends. But, sadly, I am only a tiny gnat flying around your head.

America the Purple?

Where are the purple mountains?

Seriously, am I just ignorant or something? The song refers to “Purple Mountain Majesties” but where are they? America’s got plenty in the way of amber waves of grain and two shining seas (that are actually oceans), but I find purple mountains nowhere. The Rockies are not purple, nor are the Appalachians. Both ranges are very much white through most of the year.

I Google searched “purple mountains” expecting to find out why someone thought there were some in America, and here’s what I found:

Purple Mountain or Zijin Shan (ChineseZĭjīnshān, lit. “Purple-Gold Mountain”) is located on the eastern side of Nanjing in Jiangsu province, China. It is 447.1 m (1467 ft) high, with the lowest point 30 m (98 ft). Its peaks are often found enveloped in mysterious purple and golden clouds at dawn and dusk, hence its name.”

Oh, so I guess Katharine Bates (writer of “America the Beautiful”) just got her geography mixed up by a few thousand miles. That’s understandable; magical purple mountain ranges in China are commonly confused with America’s not-magical and entirely normal-looking mountain ranges. By the way, the “Purple” mountains look like this…

Wait! They’re not…

But there are other things in the poem that make as much sense as purple mountains. For example: in stanza 2 where Katie Bates is all like:

“O beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness!”

Firstly, that’s not even catchy. Who’s going to remember that?

Secondly, what is so beautiful about pilgrim feet? They probably stink since they’re in those leathery boots all the time, trudging across the wilderness and getting small pox and whatnot. …Oh, and speaking of small pox…

What do you mean they brought freedom across the wilderness???

Before Pilgrims: This looks free.

After Pilgrims: sad-face.

Okay, sorry, let’s forget about the Native Americans for a second like we have for the past four-hundred years… Maybe the next stanza will be less glaringly historically awkward.

“O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife.
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life!”


“America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine!”

The Georgians kicked the Cherokee off their traditional lands in 1830 because there was gold on those lands. I guess they had good reason to do so after all since the gold was refined by God and whatnot. Since “every gain [is] divine” I guess the Cherokee have nothing to complain about. Right?

Okay, so besides trying to rationalize horrid mistreatment of Native Americans, what is this song doing for us right now? I’m not entirely sure. The next stanza talks about “alabaster cities gleam undimmed by human tears!” which either means no one cries in America (which throws the trail of tears into a well of doubt) or it means our cities are going to gleam no matter how miserable the people are, which; judging by my trip to Atlanta, is the case.

Am I missing something? The next stanza repeats the original (and inaccurate) description of the landscape, adding in “enameled plains” which I guess is what you wish you had when your plains get a cavity. The stanza after that repeats the pilgrim stanza. Then the next one has this neat phrase “God shed his grace on thee/ Till selfish gain no longer stain/ The banner of the free!”

I wonder how Bernie “Made Off With Your Money” Madoff would feel about these lyrics…

Maybe the point is in the song’s conclusion. Many songs end with their most important line, kind of like a thesis statement about what they have been trying to tell you throughout the melody. Let’s see…

“America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till nobler men keep once again
Thy whiter jubilee!”

Oh, jeeze.

Sorry guys.

Katherine Bates (unfortunately not related to actress Kathy Bates) wrote “America the Beautiful” in 1893. She was on a kind of hiking trip with a bunch of teachers and was so moved by the view at the top of Pike’s Peak that she jotted down the first stanza, which most of us remember. She then went back and wrote in all the stuff about white power and greed being good later.

Above: Mitt Romney?

Little did we know that the patriotic song we sung as kids in elementary school was available for negative interpretation. Nor did I know that I could write so much about purple mountains that don’t actually exist.

Up on the Roof

Up on the roof
I hear the birds call
I feel the rain fall
I see trees grow tall

Up on the roof
I hear the peepers peep
While my parents sleep
I think so deep

Up on the roof
It seems so bright
Even in the night
I know it’s right

Up on the roof
I see the sun arise
The light hurts my eyes
Just like the coming lies

Up on the roof
As placid as a lake
There is no mistake,
It is my escape

Up on the roof.