Jun. 1st, 2007 01:03 pm
kestrana: (fairy)
Since I find myself with some free time I was looking through some of the poems I wrote in 2006 that were in my poetry notebook. I have been very lax about updating Dreamin' Blue in the back half of the year. That's one of the first things I will remedy when I get the internet connected to my computer in my new apartment - both writing and DnD sections.

But, since I still need to use this free time, I might as well type up the poetry here for you to read it, where I can just copy+paste it later into the webpage template.

Today, Tomorrow, Sunday )

The Entrance to Graceland )

To Truly Belong )

Nursury Rhyme )

Sonnet #5 - Enraptured )

The Journey to the Journey )

And that's that.
kestrana: (beauty)
Yesterday Phil and I were walking by Joe Jasinski's house and on a whim we decided to ring the doorbell and see if he was there, which it turned out, he was.

Joe and I have known each other since we were 3 years old and going to the same Park District summer activities. I think one or two years we were even in the same swimming lessons. We went to the same schools until college and were in 5 of the 6 same elementary school classes. We had mostly the same friends but as I think on it, it is strange. Joe and I have always been friends as far back as I remember - indeed I cannot remember a time when I didn't know him. But we were never especially close and as I think on some of the mutual friends we had (Andy Stawarski, Mark and Brian Buchna, Ross and Joe Ringenberg) it seems to me that we were both closer to the mutual friends than to each other. We live only two blocks from each other yet never spent considerable time together outside of school and the walking to and from said place. As I think on it there really is no particular reason why. I always had the greatest respect for him as a person but for whatever reason he never became one of those people I always called; yet at the same time, he has always been there and I know he is as conscious of that weight of time between us as I am. He even wrote in my yearbook Senior year "How do I say goodbye to someone I've known since before kindergarden?" Well, I suppose its as John Mayer says, if you never stop when you wave goodbye you just might find if you give it time that you'll wave hello again.

Talking with Joe was a trip down memory lane as he dug out both yearbook and elementary school class photos to ask about thus and such a person and we shared whom we had seen recently. This probably was the major impetus for my dreams last night concerning school graduations and such. It made me pause to think about some things concerning "the best time in our lives". Some people say there isn't anything they wouldn't give to get back one day of high school or college. I don't particularly feel that way but at times I have a sense of longing for those days and perhaps the idea that I would like to figure out how to infuse today with whatever made that special. What is it about high school and college that calls us and begs reminiscense?

I think there are possibly as many answers as there are people who miss those days. But I think a couple of things are true for most people. No matter what you were actually doing, life then seemed to have direction and purpose. It was going somewhere to some sort of logical achievement and that sense of worthwhile and directed purpose certainly seems missing from many people's lives after graduation. More than that however, I think that what high school and college are really about is the formation of community. At least in the (admittedly above average) schools I went to, the sense of fellowship, togetherness, spirit, camraderie, whatever you want to call it, permeated the hallways, the assemblys, the classrooms. At North Central they went to great pains to instill a sense of community in the freshman classes by forcing us to interact with one another across majors and dorms, which in the end resulted in me knowing virtually every person in my normal B.A./B.S. 4-year graduating class by name and most of them by sight as well.

When you leave the school confines and enter the workplace there is no longer an emphasis on community unless you are fortunate to wind up on the other side of an educational institution. Work is about results and supervisors and bosses are not there to see that you are learning and force you to think critically and expand your mind. Some good workplaces may instill a sense of team or camraderie but it is not the same as being surrounded by people who are sleeping, eating and breathing the same experience as you, where regardless of GPA or Student Government position, your classmates are still on essentially equal ground and it really is possible for you to all win or lose together.

I think that is why now everyone I know from school seems to be sharing in that sudden sentimentality that has made people I hadn't talked to in years friend me on facebook and myspace. Those times are gone but by reconnecting with the community as much as possible. It necessary in order to remind ourselves that it was not all a dream. I know for my part, as years pass I tend to remember only the good things, only the very occasional horrific bad things that in memory take on a humorous quality and so lose their power to disturb. I sense this is true with others from my class and thus it does give me some slight hope that people are truly good on the inside, just in need of something after school is over that can connect them all together.
kestrana: (Default)
Last night I actually fell into joy in my life again. Once again my words are inadequate to the burden of my heart. But it is not really a burden, simply a wish to live in that moment forever and barring that, share that joy with as many people as I can.

I accomplished a lot during the day. Enough to please my mother. And so when Phil and Niles and I needed something to do after So You Think You Can Dance (the best show on television, no fooling) we went to La Spiaza for coffee (which no one actually purchased - it was smoothies and juice) and then walked around in downtown Wheaton which was apparently suffering from an infestation of high schoolers doing their version of the senior bar crawl, which actually means they were hanging in front of Starbucks in a giant horde.

But it was a sumptuous night. We walked through Adams Park and then over to Memorial Park where the Wheaton Municipal Band was playing. We saw John Noworyta (ancient band instructor from high school) guest conduct the 4th Mvmt. of Symphonic Metamorphosi by Hindemith - something I've played in college. They then played the first strain of the Syncopated Clock as a joke and then the Washington Post March. Phil stood next to me with his arm around my shoulders and my arm around his waist (well, he is almost a foot taller than me...and I'm not short) sipping my smoothie and then we took off in Niles' parents' convertible with the top down to drive around for a half hour. We took Hill until it ends and came back through a tunnel in secret side streets apparently only I knew. The night was majestic. An almost full moon, a warm gentle breeze, the car's engine almost silent, a full slightly cloudy sky of stars and the two boys I love the most talking quietly about whether or not Japanese tentacle porn existed in feudal Japan woodcarvings. Nickel Creek played on the stereo and we were winding through the ritzy part of Glen Ellyn. All the elaborate mansions were dark and surrounded by their tiny, perfect lighting configurations. It was literally like driving through a dream or a movie. Almost more real than life should be. SurREAL.

And of course at the end of the night the sweetest of kisses to bid me farewell. Always there seems not enough time. But perhaps it is that shortness that causes the savor so much.


Mar. 24th, 2006 01:39 pm
kestrana: (Default)
I'm about to leave for the weekend. I spent time working on my website today. Fixed small typos in many poems, updated the rest of "Political Poetry and Me Poetry" with the new page template, and added a new short story --> Shine (Work in Progress). Shine is my new adaptation of the 100+ page novel I wrote in high school and never completely finished. When I moved in January I found the binder that that piece was in. I'm still not happy with the title, and never really have been but I think the new version is much better. At least its in a world where I don't need to know details, because I changed the setting from science fiction to fantasy. If I do illustrations for it ever (I did a map already) I should add those. Also if I actually wind up writing any more of it I should add that too :P. Anyway, as always


Please take a moment, if you care, to read one poem and comment on it. I'd like to think that at least something I've written has passed before someone else's eyes at some point.
kestrana: (Default)
I want it to rain so badly.

I want it to be dark and cool and the rain to wash down and wash away everything that happened last night, all the emptiness and pain and sorrow and confusion. I want to give myself to the dark, cool water and feel cleansed.

But I live in the desert and the sky today is depressingly bright.

I feel like the desert is getting inside me, turning everything to coarse and barren sand. Mind, body, heart and soul all gone yellow and grey and weightless, capable of being blown away in the never-ending winds of this place. All around my corpse the lone and level sands stretch far away.

I knew this was coming and it starts to hurt less already.

But what it means is that I will really and truly be alone here.

Blow winds, blow. Maybe you can blow me all the way back to that green land where I belong, where everything is growing even in the winter. Where there are colors other than blue and yellow, brown and grey. I don't really know for certain if I would be happier there but at least I wouldn't be alone. Yellow used to be my favorite color. Now all I want is black and white. No more of this grey bullshit that seems to fill my every waking hour.

Nightmares again. Strange semi-jointed bugs and evil undead spirits sucking the life from them as they struggled to swim to the surface. A plane crash. No one I actually know was in these but their voices were all around, like narration. Voices, all that I have now. No gentle touch, no soft embrace, just voices.

The World

Jan. 27th, 2006 12:10 am
kestrana: (Flames)
The world is cold. It is dark. I am empty. I am cold and dark. I can remember exactly when this moment began but I don't know when it will end. I want it to end. But that also means giving up completely on something that I poured all of myself into.

But he doesn't want me anymore at least not in that way. And that is something I absolutely must accept for his sake and for mine. I want to talk to him about it but when I try I feel like there are so many walls around him now. It's really almost like he's a different person. And I can see at the edges why some people have said negative things about him, I can see the hardness coming out and that callousness that I think is a defense against breaking down into his own misery.

But he said today something "when I don't see it going to marriage" and that somehow was the most hurtful of all things. Maybe because that really was something I felt was possible and dreamed of here. I really saw it and felt it and dreamed it and that dream is broken now and oh god I think how can I ever find anyone who can be this again because he is and was all the things that I wanted except for the fact that I guess he couldn't love me back in the way that I loved him. But there's not a single thing I would change about him except to have him love me. And he even does, its just not enough for him. Some thing is missing and neither of us know what it is.


Dec. 20th, 2005 04:34 pm
kestrana: (Flames)
I meant to mention this at some point but

I have completely begun the overhaul of my website. To make it more pretty. More with the theme of Dreamin' Blue (water heh heh). I'm mostly pleased with what I have done so far.


But also, in the last few months I have found I have been able to write poetry again, after almost a year where I was unable to write anything. I have uploaded the new poems and they are here listed:

On Love:
Swallow Me Whole
The Honeymoon
Where Are You?

On Myself:
The Prayer This one is really long. Probably the longest poem I've ever written.
This LifeI think this one is the best of these.

On Politics: (yes again with the politics)
Ivory Towers
Take Heart
Untitled #5 This one sucks dont read it.


kestrana: (Default)

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