Rosalie's Picture

I wrote this in the voice of an elderly gentleman. I was inspired to write this when I saw an old man get on the bus and as he flashed his bus, I caught a glimpse of a black and white photo. I guess my imagination ran away with me!

When I board the 88 bus,
with my senior citizen ticket,
I see Rosalie sitting in my wallet.

From where she’s sitting
I can’t see the blush in her cheeks,
the shade of her dress,
or the flower’s color which rests
in her hair. Luckily I studied

her for so long, each detail
is memorized. Her cheeks,
a pink blush from the sun, the flower
matching the blush, the dress
blue. Well green. We argued
over the color. Today she wears

some earrings I bought her. Every day,
she wears the earrings I bought her.
They have two pearls resting, supporting
each other with a silver charm dangling
at the end. A smile slides down

my brain onto my lips. The bus
driver clears his throat, looking strangely
towards me. As he nods his head
I’m unsure if it is to acknowledge
my ticket, or something else. Either way,
I find a spot on the near empty bus.

But I don’t travel alone.

Day Before Autumn

This is the first draft of a poem I am currently revising. It was a blank verse exercise I wrote last fall. I failed at the assignment in many aspects, but I also feel that I accomplished something more valuable than perfect form.

I plucked a leaf out of the branch

and think how I have thieved its life.

Its goal to thrive, destroyed by me.

My gust of strength tore it down,

trampled now into the dirt. And I

apologize to the spring and summer

months of which I robbed a leaf,

a day. A season of life and sun

stolen by me. The wind of autumn

has begun a day to soon.

The Chocolate Chip Waffle

So I've begun to follow an amazing blog, The Chocolate Chip Waffle.

This blog makes me smile for so many reasons, and it will make you smile as well. One reason I'm smiling about this blog is that the blogger is doing an end of summer giveaway. I wish I had been cool enough to think of that! Alas, I wasn't. But I'm more then willing to enter myself into this giveaway! Which is what this post is all about.

The rules clearly stated that i had to tweet, facebook, or blog the contest. Don't get me wrong though - I truly do love this blog and all it has to offer and was more than willing to give my readers another amazing blog to read! So, if you are a fellow blogger, enter the giveaway as well. If you are simply a reader, add The Chocolate Chip Waffle to your list of blogs to read.

My Nose

I smell the hot dog stand scent like backyard
barbecues and family gatherings. I breathe in
market colors through the incense, elephant
ears, and strawberry lemonade. I taste fruit
and vegetables without them touching my
tongue. You assist my daily ritual of appreciating
life. Yet daily, my mirror and I hold a ceremony
to remember the great weight your awkward
smallness places on my life.

Bitter/Sweet News

Hello everyone!

I just wanted to take a minute to say thanks to all my followers and readers! We are approaching 75 posts with 15 Google followers, 22 Twitter followers, and 97 Facebook fans! This is really exciting to me.

I made it a goal to reach 100 Facebook fans by the end of August. We are almost there! If you haven't gone to the page yet, click here and become a fan!

If you are at all familiar with Portland, OR, you will probably know about Wordstock. It is a literature festival that spotlights many amazing authors. I know this because my two term poetry instructor, Alison Apotheker, was one of the readers last year. This year, I will be volunteering at the festival, hopefully with my friend and fellow blogger, Jamila.

Please continue to follow and comment. I love hearing any input you have!

- Tsionah N.

The Student

I am an observer of your mind,
studying each thought you offer.
I turn through the pages of fiction
in your mind and the poetry
of your heart as I hope to find
an epiphany for my own life.
I wonder your musings like I'm
at a literature festival, picking
up pieces of knowledge. And every
penny I pay for the education
will be worth it if one day you
elevate my thoughts and musings.

Honesty

Now the "moment of truth" (as Simon Cowell always states on American Idol), I have writers block. And what is blocking me is the fact that I can't seem to focus on much lately. There's been a lot going on in my life and even they aren't huge issues, they are little things that add up.

I'm trying to write consistently, but everything is turning out a bit mushy. I'm making no promises, but I'm asking that my readers keep reading and commenting during the dry spell. I have found that when I do push beyond the writer's block, sometimes I write even better. Hopefully I will hit a jackpot soon. For now, here's a video I found incredibly adorable and amazing!

Predisposed Judgments from a Person Lacking Intelligence

Predisposed judgments are like me
assuming that in addition to your
inadequacy to spell and use proper
grammar, you also fail to correctly
replace the toilet paper with the
tail rolling over the top. You are
decaf coffee in the morning.
You are void of making any sense.

One Art - Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Writers Block

I own blocks. They are brick red
and I stack them neatly to form
a wall of protection. Each block
is carved with an inscription.
Some say the names of those
who used to support me but no
longer do. Others name events
that won't deteriorate from my
mind. People say things that
should ignite inspiration but
instead I receive another brick
of writer's block.

Overworked Secretary - A Villanelle

I’ll go to the creek. It’s time to play.
I’m a young freckled face. My chores
are done. I’ll leave, (if I may).

But I’m at the office, another day.
I hate this paperwork like a chore
during the sun, when it’s time to play.

Out the window, kids laugh as they obey
rules of kickball, baseball, the red rover
line dance. Inside I request a break, (if I may).

As I type, as I tap, nail polish chips away.
My neck is tight and my back is arched over.
The freckles gone, I never ask for time to play.

Nighttime is falling and I challenge it when I say,
Play my game! I’ll finish this job before
the sun falls. And then to sleep I’ll fall, (if I may).

Out of the office, I drive to the creek’s bay
where I sit Indian style by my childhood shore.
I talk to the creek, tell her it’s time to play.
And I’ll have my freckles back, (if I may).

The DMV Needs Me

I am convinced that the DMV needs me. They don’t need me to take my driver’s test, get my tags, or take a really gross looking picture. They need me to restructure the way they operate. Allow me to explain the reason for my exasperation. I arrived at the DMV at 2:45pm to take the knowledge portion of my driving test. I waited in a line for 5-10 minutes and was given a number. I then sat and waited for about twenty minutes. The only thing that made this wait half way acceptable was that I had my headphones and music on my phone and there was an admirable creature of the opposite gender who was about to take get picture ID.

After the half way decent wait my number was called and I was to stand in yet another line to be then helped by someone who could do something other than give me paperwork and a number. I waited in this line for about 20 minutes and although I still had my music, the lovely view had already left. So upon a quick math conclusion, I am concluding that the wait became a quarter decent wait. I should add that there were many “line passes” given to other people throughout this entire ordeal.

Finally, my number was called. Luckily, the gentleman who helped me was humorous and I freely told him that the fee was ridiculous. He just smiled. Yay for great customer service! I paid the fee and was told to put my form in the yellow box over by testing. I was so close! I quickly shoved the slip into the box. And would you like to guess what happened next? I waited. This time my wait was for about 10 minutes. I had no music, no attractive men, and worker’s passing me up. A new calculation shows that my acceptance for this other wait was at about -3499319483. I admit, I even tapped my nails on the desk in order to get someone’s attention. It worked! At least I think it did. It was either that or the employees sensed some extremely negative emotions flying around.

Anyways, the lady grabbed my paper from the box and tried to say my name. She butchered it. And I repeated it back correctly. She then looked at my paper like it wasn’t mine and I assured her that it was. She had the nerve to start arguing with me over it. I peered over the counter and said “Yeah, that is mine!” She said, “So the t is silent?” My many trips to starbucks have made me slightly impatient about the pronunciation of my name, yet I complied.

Finally, I took the test, passed, took a terrible looking photo, but managed to get happy enough to kid around with two of the workers.

A few hours later I am sitting around still recovering from this experiment and considering how even though the DMV needs me, I never want to step a foot into that place again!

Moving Lines

I’m sitting on my porch looking across the line of the railing,
on to the one that is created when the setting sunshine collides
with the moving clouds. So the line moves, like the one between
us. Because once we laughed at the same joke, until we could
only talk. But yesterday, we fought into something that sounded
like silence. So the line moves, like the vertical line when a door
closes. Like when the sunshine collides with moving clouds
that move until they hover over an already setting sun.

A Post!

My apologies for not posting. This is a post to say that I will be posting. I can't tell how many posts I've started and just couldn't finish. Soon, though.

Word of the Day

Today's word of the day is livid.

Similar words include angered, furious, ill-tempered, disgusted, aggravated, fuming, raged, wrought, and etc.

But as the Good Book says, "Be angry and sin not." So instead of ransacking a certain family member's room I will go get coffee like everyone should do when they are (use above word here).

A Waste of Time

Last night, I realized after reading about 3-4 chapters of a book that I had previously read and completed the book. The realization was rather eye opening. First of all, I realized that the book obviously wasn't too amazing if I didn't even realize till that far in. Secondly, I realized that I wasted many hours reading the book the first time through because it obviously had no impact on me.

Boo for stupid books and wasted hours.

Perfection

Perfection is like a slant rhyme,

knowing that to be perfectly in-

sync is like being completely

overwhelmed.

Perfection is an artist's paint

splattered hands. Because

creativity must always slip

off the canvas, into the palms

of friends.

Perfection is like coffee cake

that crumbles when one bite

is taken, as if the sweetness

causes a tremble of fear.

Because it just may end far

too soon.

Shampoo!

Today, I allow you to have a glimpse into my life from another angle. Normally, I say personally things through poetry or sarcastic rants. But today, something new will be brought to the table (goodness, I hate that cliche).

Warning - Don't get too excited about this because it may not happen often, and honestly, upon reading this, you may be quite pleased with that.

Shampoo. Yes, my post is about shampoo. First, I'd like to point out that the word "shampoo" sounds quite strange! I have never thought about it until now. This encouraged me to do some extreme research on the word. And what other place is there to go for extreme, reliable information except for Wikipedia?

So according to Wiki, "the word shampoo in English is derived from Hindi chāmpo (चाँपो [tʃãːpoː]), and dates to 1762. The Hindi word referred to head massage, usually with some form of hair oil". Upon finding that piece of information, I have mixed feelings about shampoo, because honestly, when I buy what we call shampoo, I will forever feel ripped off.

But alas, my post is about a specific brand and kind of shampoo which I just used for the first time.

*Drumroll* "Head and Shoulders Refresh Shampoo" Supposedly, it will "act like an invigorating wake-up thanks to the addition of natural menthol. It will stimulate your senses." My sister was telling me about this and when rummaging through the many shampoo bottles sitting in the shower, I happened upon it. Thinking I would be extra adventurous I decided to use it as my first shampoo. Yes, first. I shampoo my hair twice like every good girl should.

At first I though that there was nothing out of the ordinary about the shampoo. I thought that perhaps it was me, so I washed my hair more vigorously. Nothing. So I rinsed, and that is when the magic occurred! I cannot say whether I liked the cool feeling or not. I just know that today, I had an amazing adventure simply because of new shampoo.

I would definitely suggest trying the shampoo if for no other reason!

Billy Collins - Litany

I have adored this poem ever since we studied it in my poetry class. It has become even more memorable to me from watching Collins read it. Enjoy!