Michelangelo

Hello Lovelys,
I'm sorry it's been a while, basically forever since I've written anything. But there has been so much that has happened, and I don't know if I'll honestly be able to catch you up.
Well, I did it! I traveled parts of the world, and yes, I had a glorious time. I made loads of new friends and saw some beautiful, fascinating cities and sites. It was the experience of a life time, and I'm certainly more than willing to do it again. I am physically craving travel, actually.

But, after visiting Florence and learning all about Leonardo Di Vinci (I seriously just almost wrote Leonardo Dicaprio.) and Michelangelo, I found myself drawn to these Italian Renaissance artists, especially Michelangelo after seeing David and the Sistine Chapel. So, while I was in Italy, I wrote a poem. Here it is:

Michelangelo

The swirls of marble and his large hands,
I can see you carving away for hours,
dusty and sweaty--
your brow set.

I feel your presence in the chapel,
your essence bringing new life to the
stories I've always heard.

I read your letters and I think,
I could have loved you like
Psyche loved Cupid.
I would have tried to make you smile.

But you're long gone
with the sands of time
that chip away at your work.

My soul sighs at the thought of
your blessed rough tools
molding me into something worthy
of being called marvelous.



Well, I hope you liked it! While I was in Sorrento, my friend Kenny said it brought tears to his eyes but it could have been because we were drinking a little too much Limoncello....haha

Let's Talk.

Okay, let's get a few things straight. I know I have only what, three followers on this blog? And I kind of suck about keeping it up. But I really enjoy writing. I really do. For a long time, I knew I was going to write. Or so, I thought I was. But eventually my career path wasn't about what I wanted to do anymore, it was about what I could do. At the college I attend, they didn't have the major I wanted so I was going to settle. Writing has always, always been what I've wanted to do. Even when I was a little kid. Even when this kid in my creative writing class who was supposed to be my friend told me I wasn't creative enough. (He was an asshole.) Even when my friends would write beautiful things, and I felt like shit because my writing wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs.

 But writing was in my blood, it was a part of who I was. Still is, I think.

So then my career path just transformed into what I could do with an English degree that would be easy and allow me to live a simple life.

I forgot about writing.

Isn't that sad? So now, I've chosen something that I know I won't forget about. I'm changing my degree to Biology, and then I'm going to Vet School, and I finally feel like this is right.


Okay, on to topic number deux.

Love.

Let's get one thing straight here. Love, real true love, has nothing to do with how a person looks. That is the cold hard facts people. Really. I know this with every fiber in my being.

Love is about who the person is.

The Way Things Used to Be: Autumn as Children

The decaying leaves covered the sleeping grass, 
and crunched as we ran around the yard, 
our coats swishing about us. 

We ran, ran, ran
until our hair came undone and our 
cheeks were red. Our world didn't know 
sadness nor did we realize what adulthood 
would truly be like. 

The beauty we knew of was of flower petals
and the softness of a kitten's fur.
We knew nothing of being thin or
of "ideal beauty." We were what
we wanted to be. 

Often I was a princess, traveling across the
seven seas in search of my daring prince. 
My brothr was a knight, sworn to protect me,
his sword never unpolished. My elder sister,
the Queen, was often a guide. 

The backyard was our world, 
tall weeds made our jungles and 
the wash house roof was our mountain. 
The swings were our magic carpets and 
portals to other worlds. The shed was forever, 
our hide out. 

Never ever did we think that we'd grow up,
we'd never leave Peter behind, 
and we'd certainly never forget the adventures.

We'd never forget Autumn. 

I'm a Bird

I am a flightless bird. 

They catch me, they hold me tight.
Their large, hot, hands pin me down,
they squeeze tighter, as if I am not a free
creature.
Oh no, I see them now. With shiny sheers in hand,
they clip my wings.

I cannot fly, I cannot run.

I am a flightless bird. 

18 AUG 2012: 12:35 AM I Dream of the Woods

At night, in the heat of the
summer, when my loneliness
aches from every pore,
I dream of the woods.

The deep dark forest
calls to my very core,
writing cryptic stories
on my chest.

The mist shrouds the
black trees and I long
to be one with them,
I wish to never leave.

The sun is no friend here,
there is no way to show.
Only darkness is welcome,
only mystery remains.
Nothing sweet may stay.

Wondering of the beasts
that dwell in that darkness,
I keep a watchful eye.
Not that they wouldn't be
welcome, this grove is our
home.

We share this place, all of us poor
lost creatures. We thrive on the
unknown and live with the
stones we've thrown.
Wandering is inevitable;
we are wandering souls.

I dream of the woods,
at night in the summer's
heat, when my loneliness
aches from every pore.

Lion's head

Lion's head
By Jaime Contrys

I can still hear the waves,
as they crash against the cliff.
The echos climb up the slippery rocks;
explaining its name.

At night, our bare feet dangling over the edge,
the soft pink-orange glow of LA's coast can be seen.
It doesn't interfere with our view of the sky though.
Above us in the infinite navy sky, a billion stars
twinkle down on us.

I remember the feel of your
master hands, gracefully sliding down
my hairline and over my bare freckled shoulders.

If I concentrate hard enough,
I can still feel a lock of your silky
hair, between my fingers.
I can still feel your embraces
that came so often and I 
can almost imagine 
that we're still there,
on the island. 


We are still unchanged, 
and undamaged. 


We still exist on Lion's head. 

The Letter: May 11, 2012

A year ago in my senior English class my teacher had us write letters to ourselves which she would send to us in a year. I forgot about it and was actually stunned when I received it. Frankly, I was scared what it would say. But when I opened it, I was actually surprised. I was pretty wise for an eighteen year old girl, I think. Here is what I said:

"Restraint


*heat(Weather conditions)
being so long without normality
forgetting themselves
stress/always being on the edge

We have to remember. We have to remember who we are, why we're doing what we're doing, and what our goal is/what are we trying to achieve. Remembrance is the key to a lot of things. If we forget for even just a second, a little part of us snaps, and its hard to recover. Restraint is important. Without it we lose everything. Restraint keeps everything in check and balanced. Because Of restraint we don't do things that would damn us. 


Jaime,
School. It's so stupid, but it is necessary. Don't forget your life and the effects of no schooling. You can't do anything you can't go anywhere, you'll be nothing. You can't accomplish what you want to. You won't see the world without SCHOOL. Without KNOWLEDGE. Is that what you want? No. Change who you are and you'll change your circumstances. You can take care of yourself and you can take care of your family. You can be who you want to be. With knowledge. You. Can. Do. Anything. Want to study in Egypt? Graduate. Go to school. Get a job. Become great, and you'll achieve great. Accomplish great, and you'll become great. You want power? You have to earn it. 

Keep writing. 


You don't need a man. You can be perfectly happy without them. 


Love unconditionally, be happy and change yourself. 


You can be great. 


I love you. God loves you. That's all you need, God's love."

Wasn't I so wise?