A poem by Me

Part 1

Oneiric, soft and hazy
My view allows
To the pool in which we dive.
The light diffuses to a faint glow
And is lost in a deep, eternal ocean.
They say there is no wild shift on breaking water.
A place to hold, to wait, to keep.
I say a land of air, a land of sea
Upright on my feet.
Or my head.
Once in the water I would alter, so great.
A changed person, but not myself.

I layed then on my side.
The plate removed from off my sight,
There was but a painful breeze between the ocean and I.
The light collected, the haze focused
And I beheld myself.
I looked at my face and heard my thoughts.
It is so familiar.

Hadn’t it always been like this?


Part 2

Inward- so far-
I found a line, a ring, a sphere
Of mild bliss. Sharpness pulled or dampened,
Color watered down to greys I thought was
Life.

But this was ideal. And I did not wish for more.

As it was, surrounding lines or rings or spheres
of bright magenta, nerves shot with sharp thrills
Gazed upon me with wishful envy.
Flipped, though, there was pity but compassion weak,
for a mind that knows only greys can never see else.
This thought echoing in my head, ashamed, I dared a drop of color
to dissolve around my sphere's surface. I quickly removed the dare in fear.
But the realization still lingered.
I knew there was pain but could not see it.

A day came that the tiniest drop of green touched my sphere.
Immediatly after the shock of color on my skin passed,
the Universe took a shape in which greys were
illuminated by splotches of greens, dark, light, bright and damp.
I was sensitive to those with darker green than I,
and I thanked I had not been given more.

But I knew that colors settled and healed leaving
extreme beauty like nothing I could imagine.
And so I left myself willing from the knowledge
to recieve what drops may come
That someday I may Glow.

problem. trapped.

I have a problem. And it came with the realization that although I love my personal religious beliefs and relationship with God, I don't like the mormon church. I think this is how satan's gunna try to get me.

I need to get out of Utah. I think that if I was away from the masses of mormons my testimony would grow. I'm tired of never having to stand up for what I believe in. How can you really be passionate and really belive in something you never have to stand up for. I think that I would begin to see this religion clearer, and miss it instead of being gosh dang open my throat and puke sick of it.



Wow. I am really trapped. I'm trapped in high school where i'm treated as though I were a 3 year old who is incappable of making decisions. Please. Kill the attendance policy. Let me have a LITTLE dignity.
I'm trapped in a house with everyone is gone but me and the parents, and I can't drive, and I don't have a car, and I have to be towed around by someone else everywhere I go.
I'm trapped in a religion- no, i'm fine with the religion itself- I'm trapped by religious people everywhere around me who don't even try to turn there brains on and think, and they expect me to do the same.
I'm trapped by Parents who suddenly have decided to knuckle down at the WORST possible moment in my life. Parents who shove religion down my throat when I already what to puke it all up. Parents who ground me for a week for skipping one hour of church. They don't understand that to make this religion any more restrictive then it already is, is what is going to push me over the edge. They are deathly afraid that I will go innactive and start acting like Brian. So their brilliant parenting plan is to disciplining me into loving the gospel. "Ground her for a week! that should do the trick! She'll LOVE being a mormon!" I can't describe to you how insulting it is that they thought they had to PUNISH me like a naughty little 8 year old who was burning grass in the backyard. Unlike the 8 year old, I WON'T do it again if you tell me not to.