Talk is Worthless

A boy of age seventeen,
Brain not yet fully evolved,
Plastered somewhere midway between boy and bachelor.
What has he got to offer,
Other than a movie ticket and a latte?

What can one expect,
From a fellow, who is lost in the mirror?
All we ask for, all we long for, all we want...

Is acceptance.

Yet, some boys, at age seventeen,
Are blinder than dingbats lurking in the overlaps of a cave,
And duller than the butterknife that's been deserted in the back corner of your kitchen cabinet since 1999.

Along with this, they talk.

Talk is lousy, talk is sleazy, talk is worthless.

For anyone can claim,
That they are the best at a given thing.
A polar bear can claim he can fly to the tip of the iceberg,
A tadpole can claim she will transform into a fish,

And a seventeen year old boy can claim that he is the best at absolutely everything.

Tell me, what is the difference?

And what...I write this with profound inquiry in my mind...

What is the point?

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We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

On the Origin of Love

So, I was researching something that I learned in literature class today (because that is what I like doing on Friday nights). We recently read the screenplay Hedwig and the Angry Inch and one song in particular really intrigued me- "The Origin of Love." What is the origin of love? Here is a summary of Hedwig's song, based on Aristophanes' mythological philosophy that is mentioned in Socrates' Symposium. (Oh yay, story time!) Well, a long time ago, there were three sexes: the men (of the sun), the women (the earth) and the androgynous (the moon). Each sex had two heads and four legs, etc. and they were very powerful. The gods became angry with the strength of these sexes, so Zeus cut the people in half with lightning bolts. Therefore, it is now in our nature to seek a sort of completion. Meaning, we have intrinsic desires for love and sex and finding "our other half" (as cheesy as it sounds, this is exactly what Aristophanes meant). Of course, this c...

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