What fine art used to mean.

When i was six fine art meant chalk drawings in the driveway,
Trying hard not to smudge it so that daddy could see when he got home.
It meant cracking open a new Yogi Bear coloring book,
And the smell of a new box of Crayola Crayons.
There were those random drawings that no one but you could tell what they are,
But mommy still proudly put them up on the refrigerator door.
When I was six I didn’t care about what anyone else thought or may think about my art.
I was always proud of, what seemed to be, my big accomplishments.
But then everything changed.
I grew older.
I searched for approval from others.
Well, not anymore.
I want to have the confidence I once had.
I long for the enthusiasm and random happiness of six.
But most of all I want the innocence of six.

Found Poetry

Everlasting confidence is against high school. Tune in to the feirce world of N.Y.C. The pressure to have a perfect body is out there. Just ask any teen you find the flair to have a better body is tugging at all of us. Be inspired to get out of the nightmare that is body image. Be something different. Give away the thoughts that overpower your love for life! Beat the odds and just make YOU happy. Are you your own person?

Prove it.   

Silver Watering Can

Creativity is a silver watering can sitting

 in a barren bed of soil.

Waiting for you to come help it make works of art in the ground,

Every dribble you tip out is another idea to put on this empty canvas.

Like all great work it takes time and effort,

You must arrive each day to pour out waterfalls of ideas onto the canvas.

After many efforts one day you will return and stumble upon a small bud of creativity.

This silver watering can will continue to shower it

With ideas and detail.

Over time it will grow into a magnificent piece,

A piece that will make everyone stop in their tracks and stare.

They may never know how this small silver watering can reproduce such astounding creativity

out of a simple soil canvas.

R.I.P Uncle Lenny

It happened so fast,
It all just flew by.
don’t know what happened,
Got no reasons why.
Feels like yesterday were driving down the rd
Im talking your laughing at the world.
You seemed so happy, so alive. You were invincible.
Now the ride is done you went on your way.
I can still rest my head, close my eyes and I see….
I see you with you helmet on.
Your harley t-shirt, ur getting on your hog.
Your smiling at us, the love is in your eyes
And then….
You ride into the sunshine
Til you fade into the horizon
Your gone and no1 seems to know why
But know we hav to let you hop on your bike and fly.
Fly into the sky ur wings are ready to go.
Well see you soon when all our worlds soon become 1 again

Four Ways to Look at Falling

Gliding through the crisp autumn air,

the speed picks but rapidly but I'm not scared.

I trust you to catch me in your arms

like you have time and time again.

Falling can be loving sometimes.

I hear the pitter patter of little feet down the halls.

Then.... THUD!!

But your still giggly and smiling.

Your pudgy little knees help you up and you run to me.

Falling can be cute sometimes.

I'm on top of the world.

I master the playground as I stand on this jungle gym.

Peering over my kingdom in amazement.

Too amazed by a simple task of climbing,

I lose my grip and smash down to the ground.

The impact scrapes my 6 year old knees.

Falling can hurt sometime.

Roaring waves below my feet,

all the way up here it only takes one step.

A calm breeze flows by.

I watch the currents that I long to be a part of.

Its time to take a leap,

falling can be fun sometimes.  

Justice (Personification poetry)

A gentle creature that is softly heard.

But in a split second she will get down to business and be the most powerful one in the room.

Justice never takes a sick day or slacks on her duties.

She is constantly striving for better

but not for herself, but for all.

The warming touch from her boney hand allows the public to take a sigh of relief.

The comfort of her glistening smile

gives others the hope and strength to fight for their

own second chance.

She always gives everyone a fighting shot in this world and Justice will always come to help you.

But first you have to learn to

help yourself.

Magnetic Poems By Jasmine and Me =D

I

Wrestling hands travel to the white boards,

a recess of magnetic words

airing all of our dirty laundry.

Distractions betraying our growth of expression.

Welcome the Snooki's of writing......  

II

Hushing our lies until room 216 is before us.

The abuse we cause is scribbled on the accepting paper,

only to be read aloud to accepting minds.

I care only to make you all envious....

envious of my love,

my talent,

my passion.

And yet the monster inside of me haunts me to

crush those better.

Everything relies on these words,

or else the abuse continues.

III

Costume my religion

passionate yet afraid to have pride for who I am

fade my pain so that I can be accepted.