The World Was Dancing

It seems like recently everything is falling apart (as it should during the teen years). But I feel like nothing is coming together as it should. Oddly enough, and very unrelated, I am required to read Things Fall Apart for history... Anyways.... I've been busy and haven't posted in a while. So I owe you. So here is this... an assignment though it turned out to be more of a life confession. The last stanza is taken from the song "The World Was Dancing" in JRB's Songs for a New World ... you should all listen to the song. I feel like the lines from the song "But then I thought, I can't this can't be right, because dreams get burnt down overnight. I wasn't quite prepared to choose, to take that risk and maybe lose..." really depict my view on life, coincidently I like dance so the title works as well.

The World Was Dancing
I was 7-years-old until last year.
While other young girls
were kissing boys and wearing make-up,
I sat and listened to my friends
talk about StarWars
as if it were real.
I would pretend with my friends
we were in a galaxy far far away,
while other young girls
were dieting or dating.
While other girls were dating boys,
I was talking to them about
Artemis Fowl and the Pythagorean theory.
I was like the third wheel in life
being dragged behind,
neither resisting nor giving in.

Last year, I wanted a change.
So I left my friends,
who still play make-believe,
and went off to boarding school
thinking the young girls would act older.
I tried to catch up with everyone,
to stay true to myself,
but stop playing make-believe.
Instead, I turned 27.
I turned into a 27-year-old
Harvard Law student
with tunnel vision toward a steady life
who took life seriously at 21
has no real friends
studies all day and all night
and still isn’t the best of the class.

I don’t wear make-up,
date boys, go to dances,
procrastinate, gossip,
talk on the phone all night,
have lots of friends, watch television,
listen to pop music, diet,
care what everyone else thinks,
look pretty, or perfect.
I buy my clothes from Gap,
burst into song and dance,
know more about the ’90s than the ‘00s
get ahead in school, have dessert,
purposely clash, read books,
have chapped lips, take everything seriously,
hate making work “fun”, think big picture,
get along with my mother, and father.

I’m not quite prepared to choose,
To take a risk and maybe lose…
And the world was dancing.

Those Bi-Racial People

Okay, so I am a bi-racial person, and people seem to always think that I want to be part of all these multi-ethnic groups and stuff because of this. I don't. Okay? So, I am really mad at them right now, and this poem is sort of like a rant, though it turned out pretty good. Enjoy!

Those Bi-Racial People
They seem to care that I am
Half.
I doubt they care
What halves I am.
They wouldn’t care if I was
Full anything,
Only that I am
Half.
How does being half
Mean anything different than
Being whole?
They care that I am
Half, or Asian.
But what about the
White people?
Just screw them all
They’ve been in power long enough?
What about your race
Makes you, you
When you have no choice.
I wouldn’t be
Half Asian
If I could choose.

Ignorance

This isn't one of my best poems. I think it only took me about half an hour to write. I like this poem, however, because I truly think ignorance is bliss.

Ignorance
Ignorance is bliss.
The pure, simple truth.
Ignorance is the first shield,
That blocks the horrid world from me.
Nothing is more bliss than ignorance.
If you wish it, and you get it
You are no longer ignorant.
If you only wish, you never know.
It is almost better that way.

If you never know, you never care,
Your actions and emotions
Never change or stray.
You know what you feel,
In a predictable way.
Ignorance keeps emotions in order.
Wild emotions ruin the balance
Of everything you worked for.
Ignorance keeps.

If you don’t know,
You can’t be blamed.
Ignorance is the perfect, natural alibi.
It is the easiest thing to pretend,
And the hardest thing to keep.

I envy the genius who said that
Ignorance is bliss.

Die

This is sort of a sad, dark poem, but everyone has had days like this. I don't know why I titled it 'Die', because the poem is more about renewal than death. Oh well.

Die
Sleep
Thoughtless
Mere fragments
The day is over
Or so I hope
Curl up
Let it pass
Sleep
Try again
Fail
Cry
Keep crying
Feel nothing
Closed from the world
Sleep
Only me
All alone
Sigh
Shooting pain
Brain freeze
Failed success
Sleep

A Girl Without A Life

This poem is odd. Part of it is based on things I feel but others are just random thoughts I've had while thinking about other people.

A Girl Without A Life
What would you say
to a girl without a life?
A girl who is smart,
but can't use it.
A girl who just wants to fit in,
but be different all the same.
A girl with a passion,
but nothing behind it.
A girl who composes graceful music,
but has no one to share them with.
A girl with emotions,
stronger than a storm.
What would you say to her?
What would you say to me?

A Painful Love

This is sort of a sad poem I think, but it is more about the meaning. I feel like this a lot. The poem itself is rather bad, but the situation is so true for most people.

A Painful Love
Why is it, that what I love,
makes me cry.
Not tears of joy,
but pain, sorrow, and woe.
My passion, my love,
will never give me what I want.
Not even joy,
not even contentment.
With love, it means that much more,
and the pain is that much worse.
I could never give up my love,
but the pain will kill me.
Why does everyone expect so much?

For Love

This is a short, simple poem. I wrote it about my friend. I am often amazed at how much he gives up for his girlfriend. I guess I am just trying to put love in real perspective.

For Love
How much, would you give
to love?
How much, would you give to feel
pure awe?
What would, you give to have
true love?
What would, it be like to
kiss her?
How much, is too much
for love?

Deep

I don't think that my writing is that deep, it is rather simple. So in a poem about writing deep, I try to write deep.

Deep
Writing deep is simply being deep;
Understanding what you mean,
And meaning what you say.
But deepness comes from the heart,
Not the mind or soul,
So you can not plan what it means.

Writing deep is more than saying what you mean,
It is using metaphors as intricate as
A dazzling spider’s web,
Using bursting similes
And carefully chosen words,
To give a detailed image of thought.

Writing deep is adding to simplicity;
Making the complex simple,
And the simple complex.
Adding those layers,
Of meaning and thought
And experience.

Writing deep
is simply
Being deep.

Expectations

At school, we had a talk about being yourself and not "wearing a mask". You need to respect yourself and others, blah blah blah. So one of the things was about the only expectations you need to follow is your own. I have a ton of friends whose parents wouldn't listen to that kind of stuff. I just feel bad for all of them who aren't doing things for themselves.

Expectations
What would drive you to suicide
Or craze you to success?
Where is the line between
Too much and not enough?
Why is the line so fine,
And why is it all so important?
What is it about culture
That makes it so hard?
Expectations.

What do you see in me,
What do you expect?
Why do you care so much,
What do you want?
Why is it me,
Not you?
Expectations.

Not enough,
Leads to suicide.
Too much,
Leads to suicide.
Help me find the balance,
And I’ll help you.
Expectations.
So hard
Expectations.

I Can Try

This is me, sort of being angsty. I get easily frustrated because I am such a perfectionist.

I Can Try
I can try
To climb a mountain.
I can try
To rule the world.
I can try
To do my work.
I can try
To be happy with myself.
I can try
To work hard.
I can try
To break my habits.
I can try
To become a leader.
I can try
But I can’t succeed.