Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Power of Words (A Poem)

It began with a word
For isn't a word given to what started it all?
It will end with a word
Because it is a word.

Imagine if more people listened
And then others began to talk
What is someone said "no"
So very long ago?

There is power in words,
Innate and strong,
If we just knew how to use them...
How would we use them?

Good or bad which draws us closer?
The power of words says both and neither,
Faith is made of words,
And it seems it's all that way.

Long ago a man it seemed
Used them to bring persucution around
He was joined by many
It was all started by words.

And yet again, still so far,
Another man said equality,
And brought a nation to its knees
So things did change.

The bitterness touched the world,
But the peace touched just one,
They cannot relate
Even in a way they were the same.

A single child breathed a phrase,
"Hope, Mama, it's what we need,
Peace will come when we finally try."
Out of the mouth of babes.

So can we hope as a world?
We need it so bad yet we ignore.
Words, they're just words, we all say.
Will peace come if we try?

The power of words was shown again
Do not doubt they wound and heal
More, sometimes, then physical feels.
Words will be our destruction or our savior.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

A quick positive message.

we all need something to believe in

because we need light

because with a little work they come true

it hurts, but when it does work out there's nothing more powerful
if you don't you won't achieve anything.
And, most of all:
you are beautiful, wonderful, and powerful
can do anything.

Now Daisy's Gone Too..

Days could go by,
Thousands at a time,

And still I'd remember.

Run up there in those clouds and sky,
Chasing your tail and your dreams,
And wait for me.

Be patient, because I'll be coming,
But stay close to me,
After all isn't life faith?

Wag your tail and flap your ears,
Chase those frisbees you've had,
And I know you will.

Run up there in those clouds and sky,
An endless timeless amount of time,
And wait for me.

Be patient, because I'll be coming,
But stay here with me.
After all isn't life love?

This is a poem I've titled, "Wait for Me, Stay With Me" in honor of my dog, Daisy.  Keep waiting for me in heaven, girl.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Word Food! (HURRAH!)

POEM: Just One
Rising to the sky
It is alone
So new
Come chasing after
To beat it
And then
A wild rush of colors
Until they fade away
One by one
They gave up,
But the first
Remains, wanting to share
It is beautiful
It is just one
But just one...
Trying to make its way
With a cause
It may be alone
But it is never alone
There is somethign just one can do
Change a world to faith.
POEM: My Own Dance
I dance on my own two feet
Following my own beat
I will never be decided.
I can be alone and broken
I'm not good enough (for the group)
But I am better.
My life will not be made
Bu others' wants and lies
Your actions are not mine.
Leave me for dead,
Leave me alone,
Try to break me.
I will not be broken.
I will not be decided.
I'm still dancing to the music of my dreams.

There will one day be a time when that's all you have.
And your faith
        Your belief
         Your hope
Because somtime in the future
Or the past
Or right now
There will be abandonment
Then all you can do is cross your fingers and wonder where the good has gone.
Is it even here?
Was it ever there?
Or does it take turns?
      With people
So carry on your back few things.
It doesn't matter if your Buddhist
 Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Athiest
What matters iss that you have faith
In something.
And you need to dream
Whether you want to be a scientist, teacher, doctor, video game tester, musician.
It especially doesn't matter if you're white or black or Asian because you need hope that things will get better.
And you need to believe in all of the above.
So pack light on your journey
As you run and jump and climb
Because life is the unknown
And faith will shelter you
       Dreams will guide you
       Hope will feed you
      And belief will comfort you.

It is an ugly place out there
Filled with death and deciet (take, take, take)
                 Greed and lust (have, have, have)
                of all you hold dear.
You could give up.
But that's just letting it all win.
It's not worth anything.
You could join it.
And question if that is worse then giving up.
Or you could fight it
Not with war and stubbornness
But by looking at flowers, streams, beaches, purple mountains and rolling hills,
Trees so tall you can barely breathe, let alone speak.
And loving every precious moment.
Then, once you've loved the world,
Start looking at friends, kindly strangers, family, and loving them (and random acts of kindness).
To win, then, comes the hardest part.
Loving the people
      Who kick you down
                   And destruct
              So they can have.
When you love them, then you iwn.
You see every person, as a person.
And suddenly you know:
This world is terrible, horrible, spiteful
But it is also indescribably wonderful.
That's why it's home.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Are you kidding me???? (I BLAME YOU, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!)

Okay, I'm going to start this blog post by saying: I'm sorry for saying that "I don't hate Hitler" when I was not there or suffering in the crazed mess of Nazism.  I do feel awful about it, but I feel like it needed to be said.  After all...
In a way, we all suffered.  The horrible things he did to people were inexcusable, but it wasn't just Hitler.  Those of the Nazi party knew.  They were brainwashed, sure, and so was the rest of Germany (and anyone with but not of), but in many ways people knew it was wrong.  So there's Hitler - and who knows how many other people.  It was not just Hitler.
And that's why I said that.  So I'm sorry if I insulted anyone, being an ignorant 14-year-old Christian American girl, but I did have my reasons for that comment.

...And unfortuanently, SOMEONE *ahems and glares* YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE...
Pulled me out of the mood I wanted to be in to write this, so next comes a rant.  Yay!  (not really)

Anyway. Oh my gosh.  Politics.  It's like everybody's at everybody else's throat with a knife, especially democrats and republicans.  "They're an idiot!" "No they are!"  I mean, really guys?  Ever heard of a "debate"?  My definition is that it is the equivalent of a polite, organized battle of opinions.  Unfortunanetly, politics debates turn into screamfests of "I'M RIGHT YOU *BLEEPBLEEPBLEEP* (LIBERAL/DEMOCRAT) BECAUSE..."  going back and forth.
See, this is why I became an independant. *sigh*

Heaven help us, where have the sane people gone?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Not Knowing

I have been forced to stare things in the face that I do not want to look at.  With all this deep-thinking going on at school, it feels like my stomach will never be out of knots.  In Language Arts we're learning about the Holocaust.
And it is one man, doing that to so many people, but it is not one man.  Hitler organized it all.  He was ingenious, charismatic, deranged, and evil.  And this is where my first question is raised: Do I hate him?  I have prided myself on not hating, going above and beyond as to forgive and to be kind.  And I don't think I do.  There was something very bad in his head that made him do wrong.
I probably have no right to say that.  I am not a Jew, neither in religion or race.  I am not a survivor.  I am not related to any survivors.  I don't even know any survivors or anyone related to them.  But when somebody does something so horrible, even to one group, I think it is every individual who needs to decide that.
The second question raised by the Holocaust is: Could I stand up for another if in that situation?  If I was there, standing on the sidelines, watching my friends, my neighbors, be taken away, would I say no?  I would like to think that I would stand up, say no, take me too, but let's be honest.  I'm not always the person I want to be.  The survival instinct is stong.  And sometimes, so is sticking with the group.
I am getting a good education.  I am firm in my beliefs and convictions.  Everyone is equal.  Kindness is a great value.  Standing up, being an individual, is important.  I've never been in a difficult situation before.  I can't know whether I will or I won't.  I just hope and pray that I will stand up for what I believe in.
I just hope and I pray that I can carry the words I know and love in my heart.  The fragmented memories of my past, of what I've read, of what I've felt so strongly that I thought my heart would burst.  I want to be fair, kind, and forgiving.  I want to be loving and sweet, hopeful and optimistic.
I'll always be striving to be that way, but I plan to have no illusions.
It's not that easy.
Life is not black and white.  It's not dark and light.  It's not simple.  It's complex, confusing, and downright overwhelming.  It's easy for people to say, "I know what I'd do."
"I know what I'd choose."
It's not so easy to do it.  I don't know what was going on in the hearts and the minds of people going through the Holocaust.  I don't know what's going on in the hearts of the minds of people suffering, of my best friends.  For people I know well I can guess, but that's all it is - guessing.  It's 20/20 in hindsight.  But hindsight isn't the future.
I do know one thing of the future, though.
Through all my life I will try.  I will try to be kind, I will try to stay true to my beliefs.  I will always hope and pray that I will stand up for the right.  That I'll help others.
But let's be honest.
I'm not always the person I want to be.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Who Are We?

Who are we?
Lately I've had a fascination with these three words, with a little question mark.  Who are we?  Everyone.  Humans, animals, everyone.  Who are we?  Who are we, as people?  (I'm one of those ANIMALS ARE PEOPLE TOO people).  How afraid are we to die, to suffer, to go through pain?  How willing are we to kill, to cause suffering, to cause pain?
Where do our loyalties lie?  To ourself, our country, our religion, our family, our friends?  Maybe all of it?  What would happen if we were forced to choose?
What do we want?  Do we want peace, word togetherness, a global community?  Or are we so scared of change we want to continue going through the wars?
You may say the answer is easy.  "Oh, we are our thoughts, our feelings, our choices, our histories.  I'd choose all of them, and I would choose family, then religion, then friends.  And I want a global community living in peace."
But what happens when really forced to choose?  I don't think words match actions.  Sometimes the pen really is mightier then the sword; and sometimes, forgetting the sword can make us be called hypocrites.  But are we really just scared?
What is it that people, in general, fear above all else?  I believe it is... change.  In many ways, the ebb and flow is scary.  We fall back on the familiar, the same, the things we know and understand.  But if we do not go through change... Well, that's nigh impossible.  After all, the seasons change.  Death is unavoidable; and so (hopefully) is life.   Unexpected events happen.  Change happens.
...So why are we scared of it?
Familiarity is comfort.
But we should not be scared of the unfamiliar.  We should be willing and open.
This is not who we are though.

Thoughts.  Collections.  Feelings.
Emptiness and filled; half-way or less or more.
Wonderings, musings, prayers, stories, imagination.
Hope, peace, faith, belief, kindness, cruelty.

Who are we?

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

End of Texas and Horrible News

GOSH I hate Aunt Wendy.  You know what she and my once-decent Uncle Kevin did?  LOCK RAPH IN HER HOTEL ROOM WITH THE DOGS.  And all Aunt Wendy does is yell, and scream.  I DON'T RESPOND WELL TO THAT, BEE-AYE-TEE-CEE-ACH!  She nearly made me cry, too (you would too well yelling usually means bad things happen).  AND, when I was playing with my clinging skirt (if you've ever worn a skirt that has static cling you know it's uncomfortable), she snapped, "RACHEL!  PUT THAT DOWN!" at my grandmother's funeral.  It couldn't have been higher then my knee, too.  In fact, I know it was below my knee because I could feel it there.  She ain't my mom (and thank heavens).  But poor Raph.  She's such a wonderful person.  So what if she has autism and a hormone imbalance?  HELLOOO, SHE'S STILL A HUMAN BEING.  She's still normal, even if she is different.
Anyway.  I got home, and apparently the coworker we TRUSTED with our animals... sucked.  The pets are flipping out, Daisy had an accident that she didn't clean up, and oh my gosh, Daisy's cateracts...
Cateracts are a filming that every creature can get (human, bird, dog, cat) that basically blinds them eventually.  And Daisy isn't doing well.
If she doesn't do well, she gets put down.  DAMN they need to make translation collars for animals.  I don't care WHO invents it, animals need rights!  I mean, I see no worries eating animals as long as they haven't been abused at all; but obviously that ain't gonna happen.  The slaughterhouses animals can go WEEKS living in their FILTH in tiny CAGES.  I know they're intellegent: I own three animals with personalities who probably think more then: "Eat sleep bathroom eat bathroom eat sleep" etc.
People are just terrified of change.  But honestly, we can't be assholes all our lives.

Anyway, I'm going to be pretty moody right now and one moment I could be happy; the next, PO'd, so just try and be forgiving if I rant about something in the middle of a positive blog post or whatever.  If you know me, try to be forgiving if I'm happy one minute and crying the next.  Obviously I'm pretty damn stressed out right now; see the little words I shouldn't be saying?  Yeah.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Texas 3, 4, 5

We'll be there on Thursday, maybe Friday.
Daddy scared me again.
Why can't things be right?
I'm so done.  I'm just so sick of everything.  I can't - I won't - I won't, I won't cope anymore.  I'm so done, with EVERYTHING.  It's hard and it's painful and I'm so sick of it.  I just need a break, but it'll never come.
Why do people keep forgetting I'm only 14?  I'm only a 14-year-old little girl.  I've been mature, I've been an adult, more adult then my dad, and I understand that everything works out.  Sure, I'm mature, but I really am only fourteen.  I'm a little girl, can't I just be a little girl?
I can't help but feel betrayed by Gramma, she's dead, she's gone, she took away my Spring Break and I shouldn't feel that way but I do.  I'm just so bored and sick of being here, I just want to be home.
Why can't they understand?
I shouldn't have to tell them, I shouldn't have to but I do, my own parents aren't recognizing the signs and it's so far from right, so far from what I need.
Why can't things be right?
I just can't help feeling that they were, once, but then I wonder if they ever were.  I don't know.  I don't know.