Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. ~William Shakespeare

So I'm giving in to peer pressure.

All my stuff is on Tumblr now, and I'll be posting there from now on. If I change my mind, which I'm more than apt to do, I'll come crawling back here.

http://korba.tumblr.com/

10 minutes after '5 minutes' later.

Another quickie.

Two brothers in a train station.

History in the making.

If man can tread the soot of stars

And stone can trace the path of years,

If pyramids can brush the clouds

And peace can triumph wars of tears,

If invention by wit can cure

And a document can win free will,

If a woman stands for refusing to sit

And a man refuses blood to spill,

If bicyclists can take to flight

And life is borne where nothing was,

If one voice can incite a revolution

And freedom remains a noble cause,


If the impossible is achieved constantly
What can become of you, and me?

Plagiarism

Each separate line of this poem is from a different song. I take no credit for any of it, I just rearranged them. I tried to put most of the credits below.

Here I stand, sad and free
You can do better than me.

My eyes don't recognize you
I think of love as something new.

Years go fast but the days go slow
You're now someone I don't know.

Clean your body now of me
Words of wisdom, let it be.

Don't know what I was waiting for
If you don't love me anymore.

Nothing would keep us together.
Nothing is forever.


(Evaporated, Ben Folds; You Can Do Better Than Me, Death Cab for Cutie; In My Life, The Beatles; For Reasons Unknown, The Killers; Red Ankles, The Decemberists; Someone I Don't Know, Rapture; Changes, David Bowie; Heart of the Matter, Don Henly; Modest Mouse; Let It Be, The Beatles; Elephant Love Medley, Moulin Rouge; One Headlight, The Wallflowers)

Channel 39.

Screen biting at my fingertips
Static to reprimand my intent.

I retreat and observe
From a safer distance.

Saturated colors grin back
Casting unnatural hues upon my face.

And still I sit
As the pixels etch in my eyes.

Enticed by the romance
And happy ends.

Feigning interest in the
Predictable twists.

For lack of turns
In my own reality.

Misc.

So I know I typically just post poetry here, but I recently had a friend request to see some of my art. I figured no one would sue me for it.
If you're tuned, stay tuned. I'll put more up later. And if you're waiting for more, and they don't seem to be coming, it probably means I already put them up. How confusing.
So here you go.

Dementia (n) deprived of mind and memory.

Dedicated to Robert.

Step inside a white-walled ---- and struggle to remember why you came.

Feel your pulse quicken, the frenzied pump of ----- through your veins like so much poison.

Check your -----, time has arrived, but from what origin? To what destination?

This unease slips within your crevices of forget and is consumed as well. An open ---- welcomes.

Unable to identify ------- ; alive without interest in life. You enter.

The promise of forget offers solace, and you ------.

Diagnosed as a disease, your -------- may be the ultimate gift .

In Touch.

I wrote this one a while ago while on a plane. When I go to an airport, I always manage to buy the latest copy of InTouch or Cosmopolitan or Vogue. It's a weakness. I actually wrote this on the pages of an InTouch, which is why it's taken me so long to post this - I couldn't find the magazine until now.
It was a pleasant surprise to open up some old issue about scandal between Jen Aniston and Brangelina, and see the first familiar stanzas of this poem written across Kim Kardashian's face.

Glossed pages
Saturated with sensational titles
And aerosol faces

Bleeding botox
Bandaged by Versace gowns
With suffocating seams

Clawlike ribs
Reaching outward for fame
But never food

Miracle pills
To numb irksome emotion
And erase thought

Brimming shelves
Ambrosia for addicted followers
Such as myself

Seduced between
These glossed and bleeding pages
I am home.

One cycle of the seasons.

After I wrote this I realized, wow. I really need to write more uplifting stuff. I'm not a depressed person, so why is my writing always such a downer? Anyway. This one was actually inspired by one of my relationships. I try not to write about specific people, but I had to get this one out. It's pretty straightforward.

Last fall we began
as lost, wide-eyed children
huddling close out of fear.
And the cool, indifferent breezes of change
chilled you.


By winter they had frozen you through.


When spring arrived
and thawed you,
the flowers began to bloom.

Wanting to share in this brief beauty and warmth,
you forgot.

As the summer's heat wilted the flowers, I remained.

As fall set in, and change gusted again, you were not afraid.

And I will battle winter's chill alone.

Metropolitan.

The order of this one is kinda nonsensical; it doesn't really have a pattern or scheme of any kind, so don't try looking for one.

The roads
Like so many coursing fibers
Contracting veins
All converging towards one
Pulsating heart
Of life and bustling activity
And the cars
so many cells hurtling
Towards their ultimate destination
Flashing lights both hinder and guide
Each cell
Isolated
By their thick steel walls
Determined only upon
Arrival.
The arteries clog
Resulting in rage
And the steady death
Of the incensed cells.

The city is a living creature

Shuddering breaths of gasoline and electricity
Exhaling steam and exhaust
It neither sleeps nor wakes
But lives in an eternal sigh.
Streetlights burn dully
Feeble nerves giving direction
To an unresponsive body.

Rainbow

Red

of her attempted release, contrasting with

White

of her fragile pallor, interspersed with

Purple

of her misplaced punishment, laced with

Blue

of her ever present chill, tinged with

Green

of her sickened mind and soul, surrounded with

Yellow

of her aging resolve.

A faded spectrum of color, dulled by the trials of life.

A little prayer

Though many claim to have walked with God
Does not Satan posess feet as well?

When self-righteous followers turn to the clouds
Who should then look towards hell?

Each of these people spread the word of their Lord
And condemn the remainder to burn

Shedding blood for the cause of supposed love
Minds closed tight and unwilling to learn

For their sake I imagine a desperate prayer
That heaven or hell do thrive

Though I'm sure this prayer is in vain
For they'll waste death as they have time alive

For saying such things I've been scorned many times
And been told inferno is my fate

But I'd rather be cast to the hands of Hades
Than live in their 'holiest' hate

---

Right after I posted this, these ads popped up in the margin. I just thought it was a bit ironic. I guess the site picks out random words from whatever you last posted for the advertisements it shows you?:

Boom Boom Pow.

Your presence is that of an oncoming storm

As lightning you bring a brief yet blinding light
Only to vanish as suddenly as you came
Leaving scars wherein you fell

As an ominous cloud you roll unhurriedly across the horizon
Casting shadows in your wake
Sapping the feeble remnants of sunlight as you pass

As rain you drench everything in your essence
Soaking into each thing you touch
Soiling the earth with your acidity and grime

As thunder you announce your presence
Instilling fear to those within your path
And crazed paranoia of the inevitable

And your departure is that of a storm's aftermath
Innocents lay broken and forgotten behind you

The atmosphere clears
But blue skies remain too weak
To creep within the crevices
Of your slate gray walls

And a silence rings, ominous
Waiting for the moment that your charcoal tendrils
Will relinquish their grip upon the horizon.

Annie Boryk Korba

After reading my grandmother's journal, I decided to write this. The first line is an excerpt from the journal text.

"The impressions and feelings of one Annie Boryk Korba, to alleviate the many moments of loneliness"

Her perfume still lingers upon the page
Graceful scrawl with the flavor of wit

Tells the tale of a woman deprived
Craving to stand but forced to sit

Dreams too grand for her social stature
For the times, her hopes were too vast

Aspirations for the future had soured
So she turned her thoughts to the past

Her husband a traveling salesman
Forgotten, ten months of the year

And she, left at home with the children
Had to raise them upon contrived cheer

Though her years were numerous
To her each day was a dull game

For, when dreaming of fame and legend
Playing housewife just isn't the same

War, again

This is a subject that often comes to my mind, and I detest it. War. This is an incredibly short poem, I just wanted to get out a thought.

Every human
Is of the same
Blood
Flesh
Bones
So in war
Killing another
Resembles
Suicide

Alternate reality

Mother, you asked me just last night
To describe my friends, to shed some light

I shed the light, but cast shadows too
And the things that I told you were only half true

First there's friend A, star football jock
Drunk driving crash, now he can't even walk

Then there's friend B, top of the class
She's a heroine addict, can no longer pass

Next is friend C, best of all in the choir
Took up smoking last month, now her vocals tire

Then comes friend D, cheer captain loved by all
Pregnancy positive, she's not seen in the hall

Finally, there's friend E, painter of acclaimed skill
Starving artist indeed, bulimic and ill

Are you pleased with the perfection you see?
And if shaped by one's friends, what must I be?

Diagnosis.

A racing heart
A sickened stomach
A dizzy head.

Weak knees
Weak grip.

Restless nights
Restless days.

Sweaty palms.

Symptoms of some feverish disease?
Close.
Symptoms of love.

Chispa.

That simple spark
Begins a quest

For lust at least
For love at best

That simple spark
At times repressed

Sometimes missed
Sometimes guessed

That simple spark
Cracks open doors

New rules to break
New vast shores

That simple spark
Sets feelings free

To live life blind
To learn to see

That simple spark
Sets its own claim

If a spark proves love
Then what of a flame?

Dedicated to someone.

A fragile broken wing
On a helpless butterfly

I swept you in my net
As you descended from the sky

I claimed you as my own
And pinned you to a board

So you could only dream
Of those skies where you once soared

I told myself you liked it there
Being my flawless prize

And you tried at first to make it so
But fear disowns disguise

I saw your torn wings struggle
But I turned my selfish head

I wanted to keep you for myself
But you hated me instead

One day, I unpinned your wings
And you took again to flight

You flit between each flower
And I grimace at the sight

For, as you move on to brighter skies
I stay shut away

I wanted to keep you from the others
But couldn't make you stay

Oh, butterfly, if you could know
How lovely you are

You'll forget my net and stray no more
Aim for a flower far

When I grow up.

Maybe one day I'll be a soldier
But there's a catch, death scares me so

Or possibly a grade school teacher
But there's so much that I don't know

I could try to be a doctor
But those families, I could not face

Musician is always an option
But my fingers lack the needed grace

I could give therapist a go
But I'd be as confused as they

Or on a whim, become a priest
But I've forgotten how to pray

I'd love to be a ballerina
Save for the fact that I can't dance

I want to be someone to love
But I can't give myself that chance.

Rose.

That tempting rose.
Such lustful petals.
Dew-laced leaves.
Sensuous aroma.
Resplendent hue.

But beware
The prick of its deceitful thorns.

OMG.

OMGursoawesome,besties4ever<33loveu
And u
And u
And u
And u.

It seems to me as though the value of that word has cheapened.

Is love now simply a way to claim another?
Are friends just a thing to be collected, trophies of flesh and blood?

We are all caught up in this whirlwind desire to belong.
I myself am guilty.
Each of us, convicted of the same desire.
To be loved.

Not a butterfly! A moth!

Butterflies have always been praised as the prettiest insect. I feel sorry for the underappreciated moth.

Though, admittedly, this isn't actually about a moth...
If you hadn't figured that out.

Like a masochistic moth
You flit from bulb to bulb

Savoring the pain
Inflicted by the light.

Like a sadistic moth
You flit from bulb to bulb

Savoring the pain
Inflicted upon the light.

Unsuspecting light
Giving death to this moth

Unsuspecting light
Giving life to this moth.

For in death, you live
And in life, you die.

Last will and testament? Not trying to be morbid.

Stuff me in a firecracker
Let me then rain down

So my remnants may visit
Each dark, forgotten town

My dust will drift downward
Briefly blotting out the moon

People will glance upwards
At that essence, vastly strewn

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust

The breezes will lift me
Brought to life by a gust

Lacking perfection.

That ideal daughter

Good friends
Better grades.

Not good enough for you.

That damnable daughter

Bad friends
Worse grades.

Why can't you see how much worse it could be?

Instead...
Stupid.
Naive.
Irresponsible.
Insignificant.
Selfish.

Why can't you be more like us?

That ideal daughter

Gave up life to please you,
But failed all the same.

Shoutout to Payton. I feel your pain.

No title

Is this indecision?
Or am I simply a coward?

Is this how to live?
Or has this life simply soured?

Why can I not seem
To take that last leap?

Why do I form excuses
And promise not to keep?

This life may be mine
But I feel no control

And I worsen the pain
By wishing life whole

And the people! So lovely,
Each tries to give life

But the people! So lonely,
Leave nothing but strife

No amount of "I'm sorry"
Or "We'll make this work"

Can right those vile wrongs,
They shall always lurk

Am I overthinking?
Now this poem is too long.

And if anyone reads it,
I hope I've done you no wrong.

Bored, as per usual.

The closer you get to the light, the fainter your shadow becomes.

(That's all for that one. ^^ Maybe I'll put a poem to the thought. Maybe not. Doesn't really need it.)

Why when you're sad
Do you shed tears?

Salinated water
Gives way to fears?

How does one's heart
Connect to their eyes?

Pumping of blood
Gives way to sighs?

Red-rimmed lids
Show days of regret?

Thoughts portrayed
As lashes are wet?

No secrets remain
By the telling of tears?

No lies can be held
From reflections of mirrors.

Misc. Notes

So Payton outright DEMANDED I post another one on here, tonight. I've just got a few misc. notes in my phone, of half-finished poems. So here goes. I make no promises as to their caliber...
And they don't rhyme. I didn't have time to put them in a scheme. Sorry!


Things changed so quickly
I feel nostalgic of
Our conversations
Of 5 minutes ago
You love me
Loved me*
So how
Does

Ignoring me change
How you feel?
How we felt
Does it?
No.

It only allows the feelings
To ferment, spoil
Expire in a way
That shouldn't
Ever apply
To us.

I lied when I said
I understood.

---

He told me he had just escaped
The asylum.
Special reservation:
Insanity,
Party of one.
I asked why.
Wanted to see life.
Love.
Hope.
Wit.
I asked his verdict.
He said,
Preferred the inside of his own head,
At least those things can be imagined.

Alight

Wrote this in 1 minute flat, no joke. Scott said something, don't remember what, and I suddenly had to write this down. Go figure.

In those last moments
Before a bulb burns out
It burns more brightly
That at any other point in its life.

Before the filament blackens
Shrivels
And falls, dust
It is ablaze, the heat
Darkening the bulb
For a second

Or less

The glass becomes foggy
Before the light vanishes
Altogether

The bulb is then removed and replaced with a fresh bulb, whose filament burns dully.

Corporate America

Is an explanation really required for this one? I won't bother.


Dear Mr. Corporate,

Excuse me for my silence
On the subway car last night
As the asphalt scuffed your shoes
When you stepped onto the site
Leafing through your papers
Briefcase gaping wide
Paper grin spreading
Laughter splitting at the side
As the subway doors clicked shut
And the air stifled in wait
Your papers spilled across the floor
Escaping tomb of late
I did not move to help you
Though I doubt you saw me there
Instead I backed against the wall
To skirt your bloodshot stare
You babbled to your phone
A slur of frenzied, thoughtless sound
While gulping at your coffee
Caffeine, to find what can't be found
As the rails hissed our arrival
You bustled off the train
Fading into that hazy fog
Of the lucid and the sane
I apologize, Mr. Corporate
And though it is no excuse,
I couldn't help but notice
Your tie echoed a noose

Walk

I just went and took my dog, Akyna, on a walk. It was dusk, the sun was setting, and I was feeling in an observant mood. So I opened up a bit, and jotted some mental notes down as we walked. These are the things we saw...

The rhyme scheme for this one is kind of... nonexistent. I wanted it to rhyme a bit, but it was a lost cause. The poem does what it wants, I really have no say in the long run.

Dog nails, click-clicking
On the dusty pavement
Sun waving its last
Feeble farewells

Lone bike rider
Each click of the spokes
Pedal lazily
A faint 'ting' of their bell

No hurried destination
Just a crinkled smile
Sympathy of years
Gray hair flicking in breeze

Mother with infant
Slung o'er shoulder
Toddler bobbing along
Falling upon bruised knees

Family of three
Wily dog at their side
Bounding about
Gnarled knots in the leash

Children playing make-believe
In their faded yard
Castles and dragons
Replace strengthening reality

Porch lights flicker on
Street lights follow suit
Rusted soldiers eager to please
Claiming the darkening street

Sirens wail in the distance
Shadows frolick
Trains bustle by, already
Of the past, quick as they came

Headlights roam
One after another
Ceaseless as the crickets' chirps
Echoing, amplifying, an orchestra

I sing along
And earn the knowing grins
Of an elderly couple
Strolling hand in hand

Such strong love!
How can it be encased
In such fragile forms?
Survive!

And the lone biker pedals on

Click-clicking.

Frightened.

They say that heaven is like TV: A perfect little world that doesn't really need me.
This poem was inspired by the above song lyric.

Crank the dial 'round
Anonymous channels blur
Which to pick?
Too many.
None are what they were.

Try to mute the sound
But their voices echo still
Shut them out?
Hopeless.
A hole for them to fill.

Eyes closed tightly now
But their images burn bright
Blind yourself?
Possibly.
Replace with eternal night.

Static creeps across
Their essence ebbs away
Not influenced?
Impossible.
They cling, are here to stay.

The image flickers in, out
And you fear to be alone
Giving in?
Always.
Your soul is theirs to own.

Mum

Dedicated to mom.

Existence shattered
Fragments spinning
Forming a
Grisly kaleidoscope
Colors melding
Then fracturing
Trapped within
Broken shards
Passed out
Among debris
Car trunk
Lights flash
Booze slows
Rubber burns
Bodies of both car and girl, lay crushed.
Totaled.
Warranty?
19 years.

And life rolls on.

Placebo pills to hide the pain
Smiling mask to hide joy, slain
Shaking hand to wipe the tears
Reminisce to wipe the years
Stitches hide the steel pole
Hurt contained, but hide the soul?

Written while delirious?

I wrote these last night, at Payton's house, while we were playing truth or dare. Hm.

Mercenaries of copper
Coins tossed into the creek
Tied to a hopeful soul
And the fantasies they seek
Rippling outward, onward
Tidal waves rip and tear
Frantic to fulfill the dreams
Their watery depths bear

The vastness of that
Castaway wish

X, Y?

This is just a few jumbled lines of my thoughts at the moment. I desperately want a gay [guy] friend. Why can't people just BE FRIENDS? Without the guilt trip.

Color
Culture
Weight
IQ
Religion
Of all of the cliched, overwrought prejudices
The most irksome seems to be overlooked
That which cuts the deepest and scars uncurably
Gender?
Any takers?
No, not a transvestite. Even in today's society.
Merely a soul peeved by the regulations
The requirements placed upon us all
An X and Y cannot mingle
Without the suffocations of lust?
To what extent should it be
Tolerated?
How long should a weary mind
Endure?
At what point does it become too much?
I suppose one cannot know until that apex
Has been surmounted.
The downward spiral sounds welcoming.

So I was digging through the piles of debris in my room...

While excavating for my math homework, I found an art project from last year. So I'm uploading some of the pictures/poems that went with it.

It was a project about love.

[Didn't like the picture for this one.]

A resilient blossom
It needs little light
It can live by the moon
That one hope of the night

---

[Didn't like my drawing for this one either.]

She gathers her paper, her pen, and her thoughts
Her hand is unsteady, dark ink pools and blots
Onto the pale parchment spill her lonely dreams
Confessing her hopes, each thought it seems
Her pen spins not a novel, or daft mindless prattle
But a tear-soaked plea to her love deep in battle
She had no way to know, as she mailed off her heart
Her love lay, crushed and broken, their love snuffed at the start.

---

[A fairly simple, transparent poem.]

First froze his legs
Though he seemed not to care
He said
I love you more than walks in fresh air
Then left his sight
And he brushed this off too
He said
Long as you love me, I need not see you
Next he lost sound
But in speech unbroken
He said
Though I'll miss your voice, our love need not be spoken
Last was his life
And his love shed a tear
She said
But now I lack my love, that one loss I most fear

---

[May upload the picture for this one later.]

Summers take leave
Winters end
People depart
Both foe and friend
Flowers wilt
But buds will bloom
Love returns
Just as the moon
Love and loss
Live hand in hand
A salty wave
O'er grains of sand

Wash away, bring anew.

I think I'll go slit my wrists, and wear black. Let's stereotype depression! :D

I've heard enough melodrama to last a lifetime. So, for a cynical poem's sake, I decided to slip into depression overkill [haha. pun there.]

White clouds follow
Sun drifts through
Somber gray clouds
Stifle out anew
Rain struggles out
And falls as a tear
Like this I see
Reflected in mirror
When life has no goal
But smothering me
Why try to fight?
No hope I can see
If death is a secret
This promise I'll break
Over bridge, down street
A new vow I make
To shuffle through life
Seeking pity from all
Let me hate this life
'Til that bliss comes to call

Safe inside...

Was looking up at the moonroof of my dad's car, and felt sorry for the rain... people always say 'oh, the rain is so beautiful' yet no one ever goes out and dances in it. Rain is underappreciated. Especially since it leads a less than happy life...):

Freed at last from icy womb
This is where the shadows loom
Drift and meld amongst brothers
One of countless, helpless others
Disguise yourself as a tear
Or float about in constant fear
Stagnant, captured in a puddle
Tires grind and dirt will muddle
Perfection tarnished once again
Beauty attempts a last refrain…

Romeo and Juliet

The fact that we're reading Romeo and Juliet in English, in addition to that new Taylor Swift song [Love Story], I couldn't help but jot down my thoughts on the subject...

Forbidden love
Draws lovers near

Darting eyes
Lust in fear

For there are those
Who, jealous of

Never knowing
This ageless love

Will put an end,
Or so they think

To unbreakable love
Everlasting link

Their tale of love
Will always last

Though never more
His shadow will cast

Tears traverse
At sight of his death

One last time,
Savors a breath

Trembling hand
Takes her own life

Will forever remain
Eternal wife

Hm. Not so fond of this one. Had to force parts... which doesn't make for a smooth poem. Oh well, promised myself I'd post whatever I type on here.

War

A poem for an article in Rinehart's class. [on the war in Iraq.]

Debates singe
The media rooms

Stay or go?
Controversy blooms

Bickering suits
Pixels on a screen

Glancing over what
Begs to be seen

Broken hearts shatter
At each knock of the door

Waiting for the uniform
News that seems too sure

One year, then two
One hundred now?

And each fatigued soldier
Wipes blood off their brow

Love?

An awful attempt at capturing the essence of love... doubt that anyone will be able to do it justice in a poem.

That skip of the heart
Still of all breath
Warmth flooding mind
Eminent death
For, surely, one cannot
Survive this pain
Unequaled by crystalline
Not that of the sane
Understated in words
Feeble rhymes won't amount
To the wrenching of soul
Blotting pens can't account
And so, one must depend
On the battered, frail phrase
Those four fragile letters
Those of love, passing days
Too often muddled
Or even cast aside
And most err in feeling
That love must be tied
To a special few people
Love belongs to none
Friends, lovers, foes
Love cannot be undone

Inside the mind of a poet...

Kind of dark, I know. This is a writer's mind, on a bad day.

The demons cling to what they may
Revel in woe and decay
For what is it that keeps alive
The blood and flesh may live, and strive
Nay, in a mind swarming with words
Grasp for rhyme, heading towards
That unbreachable wall, a writer's block
Experience a numbing shock
Flurry of hands, nonsense phrase
Frustration then, mind a maze
No relief for unending flood
Of thoughts, beliefs, spilling blood?
Inky hands shred the attempt
No poem yet has been exempt
A fresh sheet, lined with waiting space
For new nonsense to take its place

God!

Controversial topic to start with, I know. But I couldn't resist.

God
Syllabic torment
Meant for bliss
And love personified
No, if there is
A single soul
To rule them all
Why must it spawn
So much strife
Torment?
Karma, karma
Goes around
Comes back
For that man
In the abyss
Such dedication
Single-minded fury
To follow this
Being, soul
Yet soulless
To burn or not to
Burn in this Hell?
This cage, door
Open but chained
All the same
Holy, holy
Label a belief?
No, better to
Follow blindly
Follow into the abyss.

First Poems Posted!

First time to post some poems... I'll have quite a few. I'll probably post them seperately, with their own titles. Enjoy! [hopefully.]