[throwback] FIGHT

(From the perspective of a 12 year old, written back in 1996 in 5 minutes when I was in the 8th grade for Reading class and forgot that I was supposed to do the assignment the previous night. By chance, I got an A on the assignment and this is officially my first poem that I ever wrote. I thought it was appropriate for today being it Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday.)

Fighting is like a habit

It sticks with you through life.

You fight for the best,

You fight for your rights.

It came from the beginning

When the Indians found the land.

They fought with the white man

To save their precious man.

It will always stick with us

Fighting 'til we die.

To fight for our children,

To fight for our lives.

This evil will never depart

From our innocent little lives.

So we will always:

Fight, fight, fight, fight.

For what we believe in,

And to the day that we die.

Jaunty Jots by ACE Jaunty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

..intoxicated

so intoxicated...

everything is smooth; it flows...

no bumps, ripples, or turns.

just elevated.

no longer in longer in control.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

calm, serene, lazy motions.

relax; let everything go.

cool breeze through the air.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

words grow long; body turns limp;

eyelids grow heavy; just laying in feathers;

moves all in slow motion.

...breath in deep and pause

so intoxicated...

blanket my emotions.

exhale the negativity.

eyes grow sultry.

voice drips of passion.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

feeling the back and forth rock;

the hum of unheard music;

dreams from a daze;

natural forces take over.

...breath in deep and hold

so intoxicated...

feel all the power leave your body;

just everything growing weak, with no control or fight;

unable to refuse the ultimate take over.

...relax, wait, breath in deep

so intoxicated...

aware of nothing.

cares have no home.

just feeling good,

all -- all over.

words serve as no description.

all I can do:

is breath in deep,

gaze out, and just exhale

as all the tension leaves me;

because I am...

...so intoxicated.

Paradigm of Parodies: Paradise, Peril, and Peace by ACE Jaunty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Living on Island Free

This morning I awoke to the ocean breeze on an island that I have named "Island Free".

When I sat up to look out and think about this new day it was so easy, everything seemed so clear. For a moment, I thought it was all wrong and I asked myself, "How did I get here...here to this place of such peace?" Then I realized, it's because I stopped. I stopped expecting people's emotions and actions. When I stopped expecting people to do something that I wanted them to do, it all became easier. You can't disappoint me when I never placed my hope there. Sure I'd like for people's actions and emotions to be the way I desire, but I will still be okay if it doesn't happen that way. And when a person does say something or do something that I like or makes me smile or makes me feel special or makes a decision in my favor, I know that it is a moment...a moment that I will forever own. You cannot hope in people or hope for people; you can only hope to people so as to transfer this intangible force so one will see the simple joy in life-pleasing one's self. So what makes up you? I know what makes up me. This is why I'm so calm. This is why I'm so at peace. This is why I do what I like, do what I want, live my faith and give my way. I'm having fun because in the end, it's just me who stands...just me alone and my hope is within me and that alone makes me so free. This kind of peace becomes so eerie sometimes but its such a great feeling to always lively live on Island Free.

'Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is.
The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.'
~by Edna Ellison~