Poetry Pt. 2

A collection of unrelated poems of mine:

to be perfect

i’ve always liked numbers, the way they add up perfectly

with only one answer, one solution. i used to wish all things were as perfectly

organized. i wished i were organized as perfectly,

wish i looked it, dressed it, acted it.

wished all my problems could be solved perfectly.

set equal to zero and isolate the x: a mechanical

procedure taught from a textbook. perfectly

scoring academic tests is easy enough

but answers in life don’t add up as perfectly.

people don’t work like 1, 2, 3, experiences aren’t

scored alphabetically, and i can’t live this perfectly,

because i am not.

i am not perfect or close to it. but i am perfectly –

imperfect.

summer rain 

i take her hand,

bare feet slipping on the soaken grass.

we watch the rain as it falls 

and speckles the pool surface.

“one, two, three”

interlaced fingers and shrieks of laughter 

as we fall with the raindrops.

two skinny bodies in polka dot underwear

crashing through the water.

together, we tilt our heads towards the clouds

and drink in the summer rain –

nothing has ever tasted so good.

untitled i

you kept me afloat for so long,

        when you drifted away

     i forgot how to swim.

untitled ii

i wonder if being

in love

will make me feel any less

incomplete.

untitled iii

i think it’s strange 

no one likes a caterpillar

but everyone likes a butterfly.

PC: https://media.istockphoto.com/id/89288958/photo/monarch-and-caterpillar-on-milkweed-plant.jpg?s=612×612&w=0&k=20&c=ID3GSnp161j8jHkye0GQhkOk1etXnlJktqOxsj-xhfw=

Dust

I try to clean once a week; today was the day I did that cumbersome ritual. I wiped my coffee table and picked up the clothes and paper that propagate atop the carpeted flooring. I grabbed all the trash on my bedside table and desk. I even made my bed (a task not typically high on my to-do list). Yet, there is dust all over my room, no matter how much a clean or wipe it off it never seems to go away.  Every week I fight it and every week it returns, I mean how do you even get rid of it; when you wipe it away half of those pesky particles fly into the air, only to land back where you just cleaned just after you finish. Maybe the dust is why I keep getting sick, full Interstellar mode. The reason I’m thinking about dust though is that today during my incumbent chore the dust was floating through the air really beautifully, it was sparkling in the sunbeams coming through my window and just caught my attention. I wish it wasn’t so dirty, otherwise, I might add more dust to my room. 

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My room pc me

Crush

I hate the word crush because it feels so naive. A child should have a crush, maybe a 6th grader. But, the more you think about it, the more the purity spills out of it. For a long time, I forgot what it was like to have a crush on someone. The definition of a crush does change as you grow, but the feeling that comes with it stays the same. There is a very specific feeling associated with the word crush. The feeling of your stomach spinning like a washing machine, whirring and flipping at a borderline alarming speed. When my entire face glows with a deep pink with just the mention of their two-syllable name. When you have a crush on someone, you think about them all the time, especially because you barely get to see them. I think that makes it more exciting, to be honest. The phone calls at 10 pm go on till 3:15 am. The inability to hang up because time moves so fast that I feel like I could never hear his voice enough. They make you laugh at the dumbest things that really shouldn’t be funny, but coming from him it is. Driving home from the beach after dark with my hands and body rising out of the sunroof. A smile was constantly plastered on my face. It makes me wonder a lot of things about myself, did I find the person that makes me laugh on my off days? Why are my walls falling so fast? Why can’t I be away from him for more than a day without pacing around the closing walls of my room? We can sit in the most comfortable silence studying each other’s faces, running and filtering through a million thoughts that could be filling their head at that moment. In reality, we are both thinking the same thing. I like you so much. I wondered why I was able to be so comfortable, but I realized that it is because my inner child is at peace. I have the same crush on him that I had on a boy in 7th grade, so innocent and pure. Like a string of light bringing two people together, encasing the two of you together and tightening until you feel as though you have merged into that person’s body. And suddenly, that feeling is born and fills your entire body and soul. I didn’t know I could smile for the entirety of a four-hour phone call.

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my baby kitty

My Best Friend

Last week, I noticed a blog post about the author’s best friend, which has inspired me to talk about one of my strongest relationships.

My best friend is named Ula. Ula is 5″8 with brown hair tinged red and green eyes streaked with gold. Freckles speckle every inch of her skin and someday she is going to get a dot tattoo to symbolize the love she has developed for this feature, as well as her womanhood and power.

Ula is beautiful. Her smile is one of the most radiant I have ever witnessed and a contagious laugh. Sometimes we laugh together to such lengths that no sound escapes our lips and we gasp for air between fits of giggles.

Ula wouldn’t hurt a fly. She rescues spiders from her bathtub, lets mosquitos feast on her blood rather than swat them away, goes on camping trips in cow pastures, and wouldn’t leave her dog’s side during its final days. Sasha is now buried under the oak tree on her property and when Ula thinks of her, her eyes well with tears. Ula will not lie either. On the rare occasion that she must, her voice grows timid and shaky, a pitch too high, and her golden green eyes will not make contact with another pair.

If Ula were a season, she would be springtime, and if she were a place, she would be a wildflower meadow cut through by a rushing stream. If Ula were an animal, she would be a smiley manatee. And if she was an emotion, my Ulita would be pure joy.

(My favorite baby picture of Ula) PC: Me

carolina

I’m choosing to write about my best friend this week. Most of my friends know who she is because she’s a pretty common topic of conversation for me. Carol is 17, she was born on May 31st, 2005. She is 5’5 and has long dark hair. Her eyes are the color of molasses and her cheeks are always pink. I’ve never loved someone outside of my mom, dad, or brother as much as I love Carol. Vaughn and Carol are good friends, she’s always nice to him even though he’s younger. She helped me see him as more of a friend than a sibling and I will always be grateful for that. My mom and dad love her, they always say that she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and if she ever needs somewhere to stay they will have her with open arms. Carol sleeps at my house every Friday after school and we haven’t missed more than two weekends for an entire year. We like to eat with my family and watch movies and play with my kitten. She never brings clothes and keeps a toothbrush in the cabinet. She smells like peaches. She makes me laugh harder than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. It often hurts because of how hard she makes me laugh. Her smile makes me want to cry because I know that she doesn’t always see how beautiful she is. I tell her, I just hope she listens. She makes me feel better about myself and showed me self-respect. She will always be honest even if she knows it will hurt your feelings and I wouldn’t trade that about her for anything. I can always count on her to defend me in the case that I need defending. We share a closet and go to Starbucks almost every Saturday. Carol will give you her whole heart, and it takes a lot for her to take it back. She always gives me second chances even when I feel like I don’t deserve them. She is amazing at volleyball and going to her games every Tuesday makes me so so proud. She is passionate and smart and kind-hearted. Carol is the strongest person I know and I often stay up at night wondering how she does it. I love her and I would give my life so that she could live hers. Nobody makes me feel as loved as Carolina.

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little things

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pc: me

I have so much love for little aspects of life. I love to water my plants. I love to pet my cat because of how loud her purr is. I love to sit on the kitchen counters while dinner is being made, the smell of food circulating the air. I love to imagine those smells as colors floating around me and illuminating the warmth that fills the kitchen. I love it when people make me laugh, It feels like I’m at a loss of breath, which is somehow the best feeling in the world. I love to take the most skin-curdling, brain-melting shower right before bed. I love to hug people goodbye, I imagine the smile on my face the next time I get to see them. I love the song “a day in the life” by the Beatles. I love the book Daisy Jones And The Six. I love to lay on the floor because the hardness feels like an anchor when my mind starts to spin. I love to go to the beach because the sand sticks to my skin. I love to wash the day off of my tired face. I love to smell candles but not light them because I don’t want them to go away too fast. I love white daisy’s in a mason jar. I love to propagate vines. I love to make eye contact with people and let them break it. I love to play with little kids. I love to be at home with my family. I love to watch Formula 1 races. I love to swim and ride my bike at night. I love my mom and dad. And even though he doesn’t think so, I really love Vaughn.

Poppi The Opossum

So there’s this baby opossum named Poppi who I’m obsessed with. She was rescued by @opossumsinspire on Instagram and she’s the most perfect little creature that ever existed. I’ll just show you her. You’ll understand.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

This picture was the first one Poppi posted. It’s my screensaver. Sometimes I just stare at this picture. I love her bulging eyes and her limp toes. She looks huge here but she’s actually tiny. You’ll see it in the next picture.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Every joey needs a mama’s back to ride on. Even if it’s not a typical opossum mom. I love how scruffy she is.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Poppi’s tail features in this photo. Her little black birthmark on it is adorable. I love her so much.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

One word: TEETH. I can’t.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

She’s literally perfect. Look at those toes. Look at that face.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Poppi is the best at Uno. That’s the face of someone who has three +4 cards in her hand.

Now that you’ve got Poppi fever, my work is done. Go check out @opossumsinspire on Instagram.

Henry Wadsworth Was Wrong

Today, the first drops of rain after months of blistering heat graced Ojai for just one minute. It was the best minute of that day. I love rain. I could just watch and listen to it forever. I love when the sky clouds up and makes everything prettier. Today, the beautiful grey sky brought out the green in the mountains surrounding OVS. It all just looked so fresh and not regular old California. Everything looks better in the rain.

I love the feeling of raindrops on my head, I love watching them out the window, I love the sound of wind and thunder, and I even love the smell of wet asphalt. At night, everything is just incredible- city lights upside-down on shiny streets, and the comforting sound of heavy downpours making you sleepy. Henry Wadsworth was totally wrong about rainy days being “dark and dreary” if he loved sunny days so much he should’ve lived in California. Anyway the rain today, despite being accompanied by 95-degree temperatures and its briefness, is welcomed by me.

PC: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8a/3d/b4/8a3db404aa48154cd8d1f70e2af41a6f.jpg

More Opossums

Look at these opossums.

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He’s a baby. Shut up, he doesn’t need anyone’s opinions.

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He’s so thicc. Look at that face. Give him your soul or else.

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Happy late Mother’s Day. You’ll never be cuter than this mom. She’s perfect.

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Teefs. That’s all.

https://imgix.ranker.com/user_node_img/50070/1001387782/original/1-photo-u1?auto=format&q=60&fit=crop&fm=pjpg&dpr=2&w=375

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The tiny toes and weird worm tail? Perfection.

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I have to live knowing I’ll never be as happy as this opossum. Shoot me.

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He’s so concerned over the oranges being spilled… I’m going to cry.

https://www.boredpanda.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/funny-cute-possums-opossums-119-61b9f4db116b7__700.jpg

No one will ever love me as much as I love this opossum. Nothing even matters.

Sorry for getting emo on y’all. Opossums give me so many emotions.

Itaewon Class

Recently I’ve finished a Netflix show called Itaewon Class, I will say it is one of my favorite tv shows. It was so popular in 2020, but I never get a chance to watch it. It’s a k-drama, but it’s not the same as the other k-drama that only talk about love or are so exaggerated. This show talks a lot about the issue in this society, and also relationships, of course. However, I don’t know how the director did this. Every time when I finished an episode, I just wanted to work harder every other day. I told myself that I don’t care how long it takes, I’m still going to study hard and work harder, so I can be happy in the future. I don’t want to expose too many details, but I highly recommend you to watch it. It’s really good!

Photo Credit: Itaewon Class