A Little Angel Named Castiel

So, maybe it's been a while. And maybe I need to apologize for my lack of posting. I'm sorry.

I have a bit busy with school (andmaybeforgot) so thus the predicament I find myself in. I'll try to look over a few of my poems this week.

Soon to Come

I have been working hard on editing my poems. My portfolio is due today and I've just finished my second of three poem revisions. I hope to look them over and feel proud enough to put them up here. A few are just crap ideas that should just be chucked. I don't like them and I don't want to revisit them after this class. A majority of them I enjoy, so there should be a good amount of writings being posted here soon.

(Fresh Meat)

Scoundrel Press

Our presentation is on Wednesday, but I thought I would let everyone see it. I hope you enjoy!

Click Here

Encounters: A Literary Magazine

In my editing class we are working on our final project which consists of creating a literary magazine from the ground up. There are four people in each group and each of them has a job. My job is layout/design editor. Our publishing house is called Scoundrel Press and is located in Allentown, PA. This is, of course, all fictional, but our group is really getting into it.

The above photo is our cover. I'm thinking about putting the whole pdf here when we are done. What do you guys think? Are you interested? There are some good stories in our magazine!

Off to Work

The crunch

of gravel 

beneath the beaten bike.

Every other jingle and jangle

of the broken brake

echoes across the small lake,

steam rising

into the cool morning air.

Clouds overhead confirm

the day’s predicted weather

and my hot breath

floats across the road.

Passing the house on the corner,

I grab the jingling brake

to silence it

and taking one last breath

I hold it.

I slowly bike by,

my heartbeat booming 

in my ears and

I fear it will give 

away my location.

A short rustle

and from the corner

of my eye I see the dog

bound over the six-foot-tall fence.

I let my breath out in a scream

and it pierces the silent morning.

I can feel the dog’s hot breath on my heels

and I can hear his panting as if right behind my ears.

I look over my shoulder

and the dog trots back to his territory.

Back to do his business in the dewy grass

and back to his warm dog house.

I let go of the break 

that’s still in my hand.

I hear it ding 

on the frame and

the crunch

of gravel 

beneath the beaten bike.

Fresh Air ... Times Square

Mid July, and hiking up the White Mountains.

I’d rather read a book 

about climbing a mountain than climb one myself.

Though according to Charlie this isn’t a mountain, it’s a hill.

Too bad Charlie, i’m gonna call it a mountain.

It’s surprisingly hot for Alaska.

Chooch has her own name for the mountains.

It’s her Mach-cha-ben-ya rocks, 

named such because of the movie.

Prime place to hoist Simba above your head.

Mud is getting all over me.

Far away from any cell service,

Far away from any cute coffee shops

where I could curl up and read.

Is the air getting thinner?

I am John Krakauer.

Side cramp, side cramp.

Chooch has been born and raised in Alaska, 

which is evident in her apparel.

Her orange, checkered shorts clash 

with her purple shirt.

The thirteen-year-old then 

dares me to do something that is harder then hiking.

“Pro-Con list, Liz,” says Chooch.

“It’s the only way you’re gonna get through this.”

Rich the Printer

I’ve named the apartment’s printer.

It’s name looks like Rich, but with a few other letters.

I think it’s the brand’s name.

Rich is a bit needy.

He is in want of

constant cuddling and

attention.

I’ve named the apartment’s printer.

His name is Rich.

You need to be nice to him.

Sometimes he needs to be turned off and then on.

Just a quick nap.

A reboot and then back to working properly.

I’ve named the apartment’s printer.

It bugs me when people don’t call him that.

Printers have feelings too.

duh.

His sixth sense is knowing when something’s due,

And you need to print.

He then refuses to work.

I’ve named the apartment’s printer.

It’s kinda like having a baby.

One that’s in charge of your grades,

and well being.