On Holiday

Whenever the days at Orem High begin to get hotter,
And the summertime draws closer and closer,
Everywhere it is a hive of anarchy and excited chaos
Running rampant, wild and free
Because they know how much time they have left
Those bees in the classrooms
Finally putting their backs into it,
Because they know how much time they have left
Everyone is dying of all the thrill
Waiting, exhilarated and breathless
Because they know how much time they have left.

And I don’t want to leave the comfort of this place.
For when I do, I won’t have
That sweet taste in my mouth
From all the honey in the hives.
You can’t have that when you’re taking a break
You don’t get to savor that sweetness on holiday
You won’t be able to taste it for three months
And that’s a long time
To go without something so tenderly sweet
Isn’t it?

Lemony Snickety

Book Review: A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning

I've gotta admit: I used to hate Daniel Handler (a.k.a Lemony Snicket). But ever since I saw the film for this popular children’s series, I wanted to look into the books themselves. When A Series of Unfortunate Events first hit the shelves, I was strongly against reading them. My main argument was, “What author would publish under an obviously phony name so prestigiously, and then constantly blab about how terrible his books are?” But when I watched the movie, I saw how the books actually had a purpose behind everything. A Series of Unfortunate Events is, as a whole, a parody on children’s books today. They don’t end so nicely—which is why the back cover(s) is riddled in warnings. And as for the pen name, Lemony Snicket is actually a character in the series.

But neither of those things are the true theme of the book. The real point that Snicket (I’ll just refer to him by his pen name so as to avoid confusion) is trying to get across is that life isn’t so wonderful day in and day out with singing deer and birds, and no villains lurking behind the next tree and no conflict. Many kids books are about happy-go-lucky adventures of ponies, bears, elves, etc. Lemony Snicket attempts here to expose kids to the real life, where things aren’t a happy ending every single time. I say that the sooner a kid realizes that, the better off he or she will be in this slowly darkening world.

Snicket makes subtle humor and satire on children’s books. For example, the adults are very reminiscent of Roald Dahl (author of The Witches, James and the Giant Peach) in that all the adults are either well-intentioned and clueless, or extremely sinister and overtoned with varying adult definitions of evil. Snicket defines “big words” here and there, and also makes excellent use of the English grammar “isms” that only readers above the age of 16 will understand.

The book actually has more than one theme. One is that everyone has talents and gifts that they can contribute to influence the world for good. Everyone has something to give, and things will run a lot smoother when we work together. Violet, the oldest of the Baudelaire orphans, has a knack for invention. Klaus, the only boy, has a passion for reading books and remembers everything he reads. And Sunny, the infant, loves to bite everything that she can get her little teeth on. Each of these skills can be useful, and the Baudelaire children use their skills to outwit and undermine evil plots that surround them, threatening to take away everything they hold dear. Use of these skills encourages creativity, and calls on the reader to employ their own imagination.

Another teaching of the book is that no matter how grim the situation, there is always something that can be done. There is always hope to hold onto, and there is always something available to your disposal that you can use to get yourself out of your situation. As Violet says in the film adaptation, “…And what might seem like a series of unfortunate evens may actually be the beginning of a beautiful journey.”

All in all, I recommend this book to everyone. I used to hate even the thought of saying that, but I really like the messages of the steampunk A Series of Unfortunate Events—especially the moral of maintaining high hopes despite evil around you. Readers really should be warned: this book includes many disasters such as a house fire, itchy clothing, a man with hooks for hands, cold oatmeal, and a nuptial---a word which here means “having to do with legal marriage” law book. The ending isn’t very pleasant and somewhat unpredictable. So if you don’t like books about tragic events or conspiracies or fighting with only your brain against all odds—in other words, if you don’t enjoy reading about real life, then I strongly suggest that you read Little Red Riding Hood or Winnie the Pooh. Or perhaps even The Pony Party!, the first book in The Luckiest Kids In The World! children's series, written by Loney M. Setnick.

No One In The Morning

So, your eyes snap open in the morning
And you start to squint in pain at the flooding day
And you start to wonder if you should
Swing your legs over your bed and begin anew.

But something stops you.
As you awaken, so do the voices awaken.
Harsh reminders that,

No one will see you for who you are.
No one will notice that you are troubled.
No one will ask you to be their friend.
No one will realize your true darkness.
No one will fill your empty spaces.
No one will hear you scream so loud.
No one will ever truly be there for you.

So maybe, since solitude is such a warm and welcome blanket,
You'll stay in bed today anyway.

Staples

I get so sick of stapling smiles whenever I'm around
And then slowly tearing them off every night
Before I lay me down to sleep.

And I really, really really wish
That someone would stop the clock from ticking
The one inside that crocodile that's been trying to
Hunt me down for so long—
I wish they'd stop it for just awhile.
Let me vent my head off.
And then perhaps,
With the perfect understanding that I'm not all I can be,
They'd wave it all away with a just hand.

I Am Spider-Man

I know my future and I know my past
Both will have to haunt the empty spaces within me.
These empty spaces I have created with my dark powers
But light has gotten through the cracks.

I have a destiny, you know.
I’ve got choices to make, and
I’ve got sacrifices to make.

I want to sense something real and true
In this darkening world I live in
And I want to help every heart and every soul
That I will ever meet, ever
Feel something real and true, too
I want to wake up everyone to the
Glorious daylight I have tasted.

That is my greatest wish, and the person I am to be
To show the world what it doesn’t know,
And save the world one heart at a time.

I am blessed with gifts and I am blessed with curses
Both will have to remind me of who I am.
I can sense my light every time I’m in the dark,
And only then do I realize that the dark I love
Is the part of my heart that I must fight against
And I am fighting for who I am.



---------------------------------------------------
Somehow this poem turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. This poem is about the time I realized what my purpose in life was, and how this role would affect my daily life.

I should note that Spider-Man is my favorite superhero. This isn't a tribute to Spider-Man. I like Spider-Man because he stands out among all the superheros as the most human. He's got conflicts and issues he deals with that make him very real. He struggles the way many of us do. (Another thing I like is that Mary Jane isn't another paper-cutout love interest that's dangling from every villian's threat.) But specifically, I've come to realize the same things as Peter Parker does—that is, he's got sacrifices and choices, and great power with great responsibility. The latter especially made me realize that I am truly a lot like Spider-Man—hence, the title.
----------------------------------------------------

A Separate Peace

I’ve come here to this place, only knowing that I want to break free
If only a moment to cause the stars in my heart to fall
And bring back the sun from the dead
In the evanescence of this place, I am safe inside myself
For the first time in years.

I forget that space I have placed
Between the daylight and the darkness
Between my heart and my God
As long as I can stay in this embrace
Please keep the coldness of the black night outside
I don’t want to live there anymore.

I’ve walked the Road to Perdition at night
And I’ve walked it during the twilight
But now I’ve lost all sense of the
Distance to my destination
I don’t care if I get there now or in another day,
I know that this separate peace will be a part of me
Every step of the way
And for once, I am walking the road during the dawn.

True light cannot be far away
God will take care of my heart
And I trust Him, because I love Him—He will care for my heart
The night holds no magic over my heart anymore
I’m not losing to the darkness today.


-------------------------------------------
Another response to a school assignment, which asked the question: "When was the last time you forgot your distance?"

This poem is in conjunction with an analysis of the novel A Separate Peace (which I will post shortly) where I discuss, among other things, the meaning of the title. The title applies to me in a way that I describe in a post entitled "Revelations" on my blog "The Rainmaker Confessions." In case you don't wish to look into it that deeply: this poem is about a brilliant, shining moment in my life where I felt, for the first time, a sense of peace. This separate peace made me forget about my distance. I'm sure my teacher doesn't understand, and that I didn't bring this feeling across very well in this poem. But hey.
--------------------------------------------

Mary Goes to Jesus

Moving voices all around you are trying to say that
He will never make it up the first step.
And you know that they might be right.
You’ve been up that road before
Each rock and stone you can name
They have all cut your feet and worn you down
As you trod the path so long ago
And now they must cut him and bruise him
And he must bear it alone.

Why won’t they let him live?
He is only a child, he is only your boy.

His troubles smite his face and force him to the ground
Blood a color that shames the rose runs down his skin
His screams blow down the corridors of your heart
And all of your doors and windows fly open
Open now to everything you never wanted to see him go through
In his eyes, he is swallowing emotion
He is tired
The world is daring him to go on
His burdens are dragged and splintered into his back
As he carries them silently and alone
Up the road.

And now you run to him
Because you cannot stand this pain and trembling agony
Your heart has become swollen from watching him suffer
Why can you not take him in your arms and cradle him tenderly
Save him from darkness, protect him from the powers of the world
That want to destroy him and take him away from you
You wade through the ocean of bodies
These people that love to see a hero fall
You want to see him rise
But you cannot help him, you are only allowed watch him
And this restraint is the greatest suffering of all
It causes your heart to tear and rip itself, dying and breaking
A great shoving forward that goes unpushed, the desire unmet
The contained pain you feel claws at the wallpaper in your heart
Because it can only escape if but for a moment.
These tears that are dashing down your face, never ending,
They will not protect him, they will not help him,
They will not save him.
He must face the road alone, and you can only watch him.

Watch over your child. Tell him that you are near.
Love him as you tenderly whisper, “I am here.”




-----------------------------------------------------
I had to write this as a request/school assignment for Mother's Day. If one disregards the title, perhaps if they are a mother then they will identify with the poem. I'm never gonna be a mother, but I would venture to guess that it's possible every mother in the world will one day reach a point where they must watch helplessly from the sidelines as their child grows up and suffers life alone.
-----------------------------------------------------

Between These Halls

Sometimes when they talk about Orem High
They speak of those who cased the places
Between the classrooms and doorways
Those were the ones who battled with a monster
Sometimes shining demons and laughing gargoyles
A quiet agony of salty pains
They that walked the halls smelled of their suffering
It saturated all the weakened fibers of their heart
And they were alone.
Even by their loved ones, the ones they cared for
More than the rest of the jungle
Standing by them in this silent hurt is like
Standing outside at the darkest hour of night
And the moon hinges, a sliver of light hope in the black
It is so very, very far from here
But from your place, bound to the ground, lost in the dark
The sun reminds you that the moon is there, almost within your touch
But just out of reach.

Controlled Jam

Astounded, I am, at the constant
Coming to and fro of terrible noiseless confusion
Jammed thoughts attached to one another
Like and endless, endless spindle
Each attached to one other,
Marching to the beat of their own drummers
The thousands of them
Why can’t they stop? you cry bewildered
You voice is all but lost among the ranks
Drained out by the silent blood-screaming voices
Of all the thoughts in your head
Parched for every drop of your attention
And there seems to be no end, no end at all
It keeps going.

Safe In The Dark

A shadow in his eyes, hiding behind his smile.
In one moment they can destroy
All the stars in your eyes, shining across your smile.

I see them from my side of the floor
Your arms around his neck,
Your ear listening to his chest,
I see you feel content
Lost with him in the music of night
And yet you don't know the dark creature you hold
Now, I'm not saying that he'll hurt you
I have never known his secrets,
But deep in my heart I feel that
You are not safe with his.