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• JazzLady22
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• 1988-03-22
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Female
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• Jacksonville, FL
Member Since
• 2003-09-01
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• 
Shanny's Hikari, PPT , Geisha by day, Shinobi by night. (In my mind, anyway.)
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• Most people 'round these parts call me Beck.
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Achievements
• Getting into college.
Anime Fan Since
• 5th Grade
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• Princess Tutu, Ookiku Furikabutte, Mushishi, xxxHOLiC, Monster, Black Lagoon, Ergo Proxy, Escaflowne, and Baccano!
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• To have a successful writing career someday.
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• Writing, acting, anime watching (obviously), and sleeping.
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• Oh, I have many talents, none of them useful.
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Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Because I haven't done this in a while?
Something I wrote for my Poetry workshop. Enjoy? :D
lying on an air mattress in my new house, two days after the new year
There’s this green light blinking
from somewhere behind the trees
bordering the property.
Not bright, but persistent,
impossible to ignore when lying
next to a door covered entirely in windows.
Without a pattern, it clicks off, only for a beat,
then floods the lawn with a sickly glow
like the ghostly orbs in those true haunting shows
I can’t seem to stop watching,
though I already decided the place isn’t haunted
because we saw the previous owner at the closing,
unmaimed, with a glinting smile.
This place moves by a different clock.
No minutes, no hours.
Staying at my friend’s lake house years ago,
we decided that dusk was a portal into
some dystopian universe where all the rules changed,
but I’d hoped for more than watching the stars
rise and set and rise again, a moonlit hike
that only ends when it feels like it.
My lantern is a lava lamp, one bought at
Wal-Mart a few hours earlier, and
though I always believed it when Mom told me
that Wal-Mart is evil, I spent the afternoon
buying things I’d always wanted in my room
but never got around to.
That’s what Florida does. Compromise.
Tuck my past life under one arm
while sunlight and beaches glitter
off his perfect teeth.
This is not my house.
It reminds me with every gulp
of dusty air it takes, in every
asthmatic wheeze, just so I won’t
be mistaken. It likes to pretend that,
even when boxed in by those
dark, hooded colors, that I could forget.
Isn’t it funny
how Florida is just as cold
as the place I left five days ago?
In the greenish pallor of that blinking light,
the ground looks more frozen
than any snow, a rock drifting in the orbit
of some warm planet, surrounded
by a whirlwind of stars that never go away.
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