Lewiton Pics #2

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Lewiston Pics #1

I took some pictures in Idaho I thought I'd share with y'all :) This was up in small town Lewiston where both my grandparents and a couple of my cousins live. I visited over spring break. I know I'm not much of a photographer, but I liked these alright.



I have another round coming......

People of Tumbling Leaves

Listen to the silence

The forest is calling your name

I’ve heard the trees before

Their searching for you today

The willow in its quiet whisper

The raspy words of the oak

Cherry blossoms humming

Their sweet little melody

As the pine shivers and smiles

As the branches catch the breeze

They’re wise, these people

These people of shattered bark

These people of tumbling leaves

They’ve seen so much

Against so much time

More than you and me

Listen, sisters, brothers, fathers

 Sing, sing

The people of tumbling leaves

The Blind Man

I really should be editing my stories more before I actually publish them, but it's four in the morning, I'm tired, but I can't get to sleep, and I'm freaking out because there's school today and it looks as if I'll be going on three hours of sleep.........
terribly sorry! >.<

He looks up into sky—it’s still filled with these blackened storms of dwindling ashes, like every other day from some time now. This hurricane wiped out everything so long ago, he hardly remembers what everything was before shadows. For he doesn’t count his being in the minutes of hours of days of weeks anymore. His life is made up of two ages; two lifetimes and nothing else—the age of Seeing and the age of Eternal Blackness. He misses the sky, he misses the birds, he misses the color, but he goes on in a world where all of these things left to never return. He can looks back down from the inky sky to where most watch cities of unknown streets and strangers, but there is nothing else. Only endless darkness for miles and miles. he visits his shadowy sky and streets everyday—listening; imagining what it is under his blanket of darkness—only to return back into his blackened home hidden in the sky’s same ash. There a woman will sit down next to him and they talk of so many things for so many hours. They talk of what she has seen; she is his eyes and talking to her is the only glimpse he gets out from under his blindfold.

                “Tell me, what does the sky look like today, Elsa?”” he will ask.

                She smiles and replies “oh, the sun is smiling and the sky is so blue without a cloud to shadow it. But, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

                He can sense her grinning, remembering how beautiful her smile was before the ash erased it “of course I did, I could feel the heat against my shoulders this morning and the birds told me through their happy melodies. But I wanted to make sure I was seeing it right.”

                “You always are,” she sighs.

                The man chuckles “I know. But I only glimpse it from memory, where when you speak it’s as if my eyes just barely open as they once did.” he says matter-of-factly. “now tell me, what do you see out the window?”

                She silences for a second, as she absorbs everything through her eyes—they’re blue, he recalls, like an icy river in January—before she starts talking again, “Next door our neighbors are squabbling again—gosh, Kristine is more flushed than my tomatoes—oh and there Fred goes marching back inside. I wish they wouldn’t, it is awfully pointless. Ignoring the neighbors though, it really is a delightful day. The birds are out, and the children play. Our garden is blooming. The daffodils are lovely and yellow, and my tomato plants are sprouting… Do you see it now?”

                He smiles sadly “almost Elsa, yes, I almost do.” And again he looks blankly out their kitchen window, imagining what the world was once like without his shadows.

 

Kristin :)

 

 

 

The Storm

Don't let the lightning burn you down
breath its energy
Don't let the winds blow you to the ground
fly through the raging air
Don't let the sky be the limit
it is the entry to new worlds
Don't let the clouds cover the light
let them carry your weight
Don't let the cold bring you tears
instead see the snowflakes
don't be frightened by the thunder's crack
simply shout back
the storm's not here to hurt you
it's here to make you stronger
so don't cry, dear child
flowers can never bloom
without
a little
rain

Dont tell me what I already

Yes I'm aware
of course i can see that
actually, probably better than even you.
i know, typical, plain, little me
she needs a reminder
because she knows nothing
nothingnothingnothingnothingnothing
she can't already see what's already wrong with her
yes, actually i can
yes, actually, i see
so yes, you've won.
now leave me be.

i cant think of a title.... ideas?

Blue simmering waters, smeared across the paint

But it isn’t paint to me

I haven’t brought this picture home

The picture captured me

The water pours across my toes

I feel the summer breeze

The water seeps through the walls of reality

No longer paint and color

It will soon take apart this house

Leaving me with it and no other

Even pinning it upon the wall

There is nothing left to see

I smile and whisper to myself

“The picture captured me”

wrote this in LA; loving the narrative writing unit