This book is full of poetry and lyrics on the subjects of love, God, nature, grief, longing, freedom, the World Trade Center, fantasy, and the supernatural.
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Perceptions of the Curious Mind (kindle)
Perceptions of the Curious Mind
Nightmare or Reality
Like a city’s recent blackout
Like the grip of a subzero winter
Like the Legend of All Hollow’s Eve
You’re all alone
And have no where to go
As you walk down the street
There’s nothing in sight
A few hours go by…
You find yourself wondering:
“When will this end?”
Suddenly, you plunge through a hole
You slip deeper…
Into the untouchable darkness
You scream for help
Even though you’re completely…
You keep falling
Into the depths of nothingness
Until you have landed hard against the ground
Not entirely sure where you are
And realize that it was only a nightmare
Yet you glance at your surroundings to make sure
With a gasp you think:
“Or was it?”
Original Poem done March 29, 1995
Revision: Thursday, March 9, 2000
Revision 2: Monday, August 20, 2001
“Nightmare or Reality” was originally written back when I was in junior high. The poem was an English assignment, which I received a really high grade for. Since then it has undergone a couple of revisions. “Nightmare or Reality” shows what I think about the vivid dreams I would often have that seemed so real it was hard to tell if I was dreaming or not. It’s like upon waking from a deep, dreamy sleep you can still see the dream before you even though your eyes open, very slowly, your eyes begin to gain focus and you are finally able to see the environment around you. I’m sure many of you have experienced this and can understand what I’m saying. For those of you who may not understand, keep dreaming. You will someday.
The moon is full tonight.
Shining a bright silver, against a black velvet sky
I’m walking down a lonely paved road . . .
With nowhere to go
No destination in sight
The air is clean and crisp as it swallows me whole
I think of love . . .
And many questions arise:
“Where shall I find it?”
“Is it a thing?”
“Or is it a feeling that only few get to share?”
“Will it ever find a hopeless romantic like me?”
“Or will I be doomed to wander the planet alone forever?”
“Will I ever find the right one . . .?
My other half?”
I have undying faith that I will find love.
My broken heart . . .
Cannot stand much more of this blackened loneliness.
It yearns for the comforting light of love.
Oh, the light it must find!
For the weakened heart cannot walk down a desolate and narrow road . . .
It must branch off . . .
Out of the darkness . . .
And into the light of love
The very light that starts with a tiny spark
Which each caring heart holds
The spark of hope . . .
When two hearts,
Two lovers join,
The spark grows into a powerful and erotic fire. . .
Impassioning the very hearts it dwells in
To find this love
Would not only be a dream come true, but a wish fulfilled
Perhaps even a prayer answered
To love . . .
To be loved . . .
Tuesday February 29, 2000
Revision: Sunday, August 19, 2001
“Alone” is an expression of what I often would feel when sitting outside on a starlit and moonlit night. So often I longed for someone to enjoy looking at the stars with and wondered what that person would look like, what his personality would be like, what he would do for a job, where he would live, and how and where I would finally meet him. So many countless nights I spent wondering what love would feel like and if I would ever find love. The longing never died out but only grew stronger and as it grew, so did the sadness of being alone. I knew I was a shy young woman, full of thoughts and was very observant. More often than not, when I would hang out with family or friends in situations where I would meet new people, I would notice how guys always took to the more outgoing women. I had no idea why this was, but I knew it was something I had to accept as I could not change it. In my heart, I knew not all men went for the outgoing women and that someday I would meet the man meant for me. Until then, I would be alone and keep dreaming about that day.
In port and at sea
Many marveled at her size and luxury
Wondering how man could create such a work of art
There were those who were still in disbelief
As they stood on the boat deck
As she sailed swiftly through the icy Atlantic waters…
Gradually, inching toward her destination in New York
As she was called then
Was like a blind bat in the night
Plowing roughly into the side of an iceberg
Scraping and moaning sounds were heard…
The cringing sound of ice popping rivets…
And the bending of metal hull plates
A huge shudder was felt throughout the steel beast
Like an earthquake at sea
She went down by the bow
Slow at first…
As she lustfully gulped more water, like a horse in a desert race
Passengers cried out in sheer terror
As they were separated into lifeboats
Not wanting to leave their loved ones behind
Others cried as they jumped overboard
Into the freezing waters
Their bodies stinging and then becoming numb
By now, all lifeboats were lowered away…
And screams of sadness rang out into the air
As the weary victims realize there is no hope
No chance of survival
The ship sank further down
Into the darkened depths of the Atlantic
A loud thunderous crack is heard…
The ship snapped in half
As if it were a helpless stick over someone’s knee
The bow, still clinging onto its other half, filled mostly with air
The stern, with no mind of its own
Is forcefully pulled under by the bow
Desperate people still hung on
For what life they might have been able to preserve
The stern disappears
Under the glass-like surface of the sea
Where the great Titanic finally detached
The bow glided peacefully through the watery abyss
Eventually reaching its sandy grave
Bubbles form in the water
As air from inside the stern is forced out
Causing one abrupt explosion after another
The stern joins the bow at the seabed
Where so many mysterious wonders take shelter
It is here that the Titanic will sleep
Friday, March 10, 2000
Revision: Monday, August 27, 2001
Revision 2: Thursday, March 16, 2006
When I first heard about the Titanic I was about four or five years old. I remember standing in the living room, in front of the TV when the news came on. A man--who I later found out was Robert Ballard--and his crew had found the sunken liner Titanic. I listened to the story told of a great ship and was awed by it. I was sad that so many people had died. The news report had affected me so profoundly that I had a dream about it that night.
I was on the boat deck, a very young girl traveling all alone, and I was the only one who knew the fatal accident awaiting the Titanic. The sun was going down and the air was growing cold. The time was coming when the Titanic would collide with a large ice berg and sink to the bottom of the ocean.
I was scared at first, realizing I was the only one who could save the ship. I needed to tell someone what was going to happen but I didn’t know who would believe me if anyone. Still, I knew I needed to try. I ran around to various adults on the ship and told them what was going to happen. They didn’t believe me of course and instead, wondered who would leave such a young girl alone by herself.
As I ran around the boat deck I kept hearing the same whispered phrases: “Is she traveling alone?” and “Why aren’t her parents with her?” This didn’t matter to me. At first I cared that I was alone but now I had a mission. I had to, somehow, get to the captain and tell him what I knew. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to get to the wheel deck and alert the captain well in advance. I was surprised that he listened to me and in doing so, saved the ship. Titanic was safe and sound and would make her intended destination in New York.
Since then, I have been fascinated with the Titanic and the story behind her. I continue to be in awe how man could have built a ship so large it seemed like she could not sink. Yet, today, ninety-four years later, she lies in darkness at the bottom of the Atlantic.
It wasn’t until after watching numerous movies and reading countless books about the ship and the disaster that I decided to write a poem about it.