Tuesday, May 27, 2014

simply said

Have you ever watched time tick by?
Moments. Seconds. Passing by.

I often forget that every moment is a gift and a chance to do something awesome. Every second ticks by. never to be lived again. .. one second.. another.. and another.
just beyond your finger tips.
it sliiiides out of your grip.
blown away like old leaves on a windy day.

and I ask myself, WHAT IN THE WORLD AM I DOING WITH THIS TIME??

so here it is. and here I am desperately trying to fly. I sit on my front porch next to dusty chairs, trying to see art in baseball practice, while I listen to the birds. And I'm praying this makes me creative.

the thing is, my creativity is pure simplicity...
simply because that is beautiful to me.
like tea cups with pink lemon-aid
like scribbled sentences on a page
like looking at the world upside down,
pretending trees are tied down clouds.
like songs sung by birds,
and the winds whistles 'word'!
the river drops base
like a splash to the face
and the fish be swingin their fish hips
stayin hip..
but fish aren't really hip?
anyways
simple like bike rides
and long hikes
simple like the glory,
of getting out of bed each morning.
like pretending the sea is the sky
and fish are birds that fly.
and I don't now if I sound high.
but this is how I think
simple..

So I laid under a tree and I noticed how the sun glistens threw the branches.
I noticed my own fingers stroking the grass, the same nervous motion I usually do with my hair. but the grass is more comforting.
And when I drove home I noticed more then the paved streets. I noticed if I shift my gaze slightly up, I cans see trees, higher I see mountains, higher I see the sky. and I swear I saw a moment flutter by.






Paris




I was told to bring pens and a note book. lots of pens because ink is essential. and a note book, a plain one with no sentimental value.
I wasn't supposed to bring make up. I wasn't supposed to cover up, I wasn't supposed to fake my blush, I wasn't supposed to lengthen lashes or stain my lips.
Naked face with no powder. But power.
People could see the tear streaks on stained cheeks. see the chapped lips, with cuts and splits, they leave an ugly kiss. My eyes look small, they look less, they don't pop or impress. they just see. see surroundings, and see imaginings. see my scars, see them near and far. See my smile. because that is real.

I dressed in weird clothes.

 I walked unknown streets of my heart and found a nice little diner to eat at.
 I met some nice people. I met famous people, but realized they were just people. I met people who I thought were just people but realized they were famous.
 I became famous. 
I became just a person. Human.
 We laughed and ate oranges.
We painted with our tears,crayons and pens, while avoiding the color green.
We threw some bricks.
We watched an opera.
We started a book, but we were told how it ends. (they die)


I fell in love
and I guess you could say I was lost. 
but it became my home. 
and I don't plan on leaving soon.
Paris is part of me now








Sunday, May 11, 2014

Please Bless

Please bless me with a "love so deep the ocean would be jealous"
Please bless me with healthy children.
Please bless my husband.
Please bless my mother.
Please bless the homeless, and the hungry.
Please bless the lonely.
Please bless our ears to hear.
Please bless our eyes to see.
Please bless our hearts to feel.
Please bless me with enough faith to get by.
Please bless me with confidence
Please bless me with humility 
And Please bless me not to be so greedy.

I Will Always Remember

Dear Mother,

I remember painting a portrait of you, and how frustrated I was that my stubby child hands and old brush couldn't manage to capture your beauty. I remember the vivid image of your face, and the sloppy paint blotches on the paper. I remember you still liked the picture anyway.
 I remember getting in a tussle with a girl in day care, because we both wanted to pick the prettiest flower for our mothers. I lost. I remember you waking up me  up in the morning and taking me to grandmas. I now realize how difficult that must of been. I remember the countless sleep overs in your room. I remember sleeping well those nights, even though you snore. I remember when I barfed in your hands, and I was sure that was what true love was.  Because why else would any one be crazy enough to let another person barf in their hands? I remember when I broke your glass doll with my red bouncy ball. and I was so scared to tell you. but I remember most clearly that you told me it was okay. I remember the promise you made me that day. that as long as I told the truth, you would never get mad. and you still keep that promise. I remember when I told you grandma was my favorite, and I need to make it clear that YOU are my ultimate favorite.  I remember I would stand amazed when you could read my scribbled writing, because I knew I spelled it wrong. but you were smart enough to figure out what I was trying to spell. You are so smart. You're like a code reader. A mind reader. The reader of my heart. You still somehow piece together my sloppy words and know exactly what I'm trying to say. I remember being the two tooter scooters. I remember long naps in the back of the car, knowing when I woke up we would be somewhere awesome. I remember you told me if I got car sick to either look straight ahead, or take a nap. In fact, those tips seem applicable to life. I remember soaking your shirts with giant alligator tears. I remember later on when those alligator tears would be blackened with mascara. I remember the stains on your shirt where the last of your worries. I remember my friends growing meaner, but you never did. I remember the world got bitter, but you never did. I remember the unrealistic standers set on my back, but you never were part of that load. I remember I cried when I got my first C+ but you told me that it was okay, because I was trying my best. I remember us picking the neighbors cherries in the night. I remember the highlight of each summer was mommy daughter week. I still know the excitement of mommy daughter dates. those are the best kinds of dates. know why? Because boys are stupid dates. because I remember when a boy handed me my broken heart, with a Roxberry on the side. and I remember you glued it back together again. I remember you sang the song 'favorite things' to stop my crying.I remember wetzel's pretzels. I remember french toast. I remember my 16th birthday. I remember Disney Land is so much funner with you. I remember you sitting on the bleachers. I remember you telling me I'm a beautiful writer. I remember the confidence you lit in my heart. I remember my snappy come backs, and how they never received sass in return. I remember reassuring you that its okay to ground me, because you  struggle with punishing me. I remember I got out of that punishment the next day. But it's okay, because I remember guilt punished me more then any physical punishment could ever do.
I will always remember the color green. I will always remember the lyrics to the musicals. I will always remember your love. I will always remember your strength. I remember when I was small, seeing you cry was rare. I remember how it's not as rare anymore. I remember you watching the ones you love in pain. I remember watching you in pain. But still I remember your strength. I remember how scary it was to picture you in a wedding dress again. but I remember you were more beautiful then anything I could describe. I remember chipmunk cheeks. I remember funniest home videos, and how your laugh is funnier then the videos. I remember story time, and we couldn't skip a single page, because each second with was priceless.
 I hope you remember I love you. I hope you remember the sassy come backs aren't on purpose. I hope you remember the tears weren't meant to make you sad. I hope you remember that your my favorite Disney princess. because you are way stronger then all of them put together. I  hope you remember I want to be like you went I grow up. Because I remember all of this and so much more.
I remember trying to write poems about you. and how frustrated I was that my bony teenage hands and dull pencil couldn't manage to capture your beauty. I remember the vivid memories of pure love, and my sloppy sentences on the paper. I remember you still liked it anyways.

Happy Mothers Day!
To my best friend, and my unmovable rock.
I Love You Mom!

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Black Out

> > > M i s s i o n * P l a n s < < <





 - - -  T h e * B u l l e t - - -





~ ~ ~ h i s t o r y  * l e s s o n ~ ~ ~






Sunday, April 27, 2014

Introducing Me, The Real Me

Well hey!
Looks like you know who I am now.
Never thought I would share so much of me with people I hardly know.
Crazy enough, it's not as scary as I thought it would be. Maybe it helps knowing I will be leaving this school pretty soon. But non the less, I want the flow to keep spewing, I want to be brave like Peyton Sawyer, and I want to continue to get to know you. (Now I'll be able to picture a face when I read your words.)
And I want to you to continue to get to know me.
So here goes everything.

Hello, my name is Alena Kay. My middle name (Kay) has been passed down for three generations. I'm not really sure it's significance, but I once convinced someone that my family owned Kay Jewelers. And I like the idea of being the third Kay in the family. Alena Kay the 3rd. 

I really want a pet bird. I would name him Steve.

When I get nervous I say 'Hi' a lot. That or I play with my hair. Or talk a lot. Or go mute. But I'm actually okay with silence. I don't think it's awkward.

I guess I kind of have a boyfriend? I say kind of, because I've never really given that title to someone, so it really freaks me out. Last time I got close to giving that title, I got a broken heart and the title "lets just be friends" in return. So lets just say I've gone on lots of fun dates, with this guy I really like, and it's going well!

I'm the top female sprinter of Lone Peak! That's right, this tiny little girl is an athlete. Like, a legit one. No one really pays mind to the track team, but track is something I'm actually good at. That doesn't happen to me much, so it's a pretty big deal.

I cry a lot. When I get stressed, when something touches my heart, when I'm tired, when I'm super happy, when my friends force me to watch scary movies... it's a problem.

I'm really good at holding back my tears. It's a skill I've practiced for years. My secret is to just blink really fast and distract yourself as much as you can. Tell yourself you have to be strong. And keep your eyes moving.

I love Disney princesses more then normal for my age.

My birth dad left me and mom when I was very young. Luckily I had my grandpa and uncles to look to for that father figure. My mom got married when I was 6, but then divorced when I was 7. Lucky for me though, she's married again! (family trees were way confusing for me as a kid)

So I guess that's a little bit more of me, the real me. Even though I'm not really sure what the 'real me' really means.

I hope you still show me you, the real you. Even if your not really sure what that means.

How to Procrastinate







Frozen Bones

I went running in the rain
and the droplets soaked threw my skin to my bone
and it froze.
My bones froze over and now all I feel is cold.

It's been three days.

My skin is warm, but I shiver from my ice sculpted skeleton.
My breath is cold.

It takes a long time for blankets to warm me,
but I long for their company,
in hopes to thaw me

Why is it so cold!?

I went running in the rain three days ago,
but the tips of my fingers and toes are still cold.
I swear that water froze my bones,
froze my senses,
because this doesn't make sense!

I think if I cried, my tears would be ice.

Everyone said I run nice.
They told me what I could do
what I should do
with my talents.

They started making maps for me,
told me what to dream,
and then my bones froze.

The real answer is written in my bones,
but the frost has covered the words,
and that's colder then any temperature.

I went running in the rain
and it froze my bones,
and heart,
and soul.
I don't know where to go
because I'm so cold!

That blasted rain froze my bones.









Sad Chair.. My Chair

Welcome to my room
When the blinds are closed
Under the Window
My chair is froze


Welcome to my room
When the sun shines in
But the work piles high
My chair still turned in


Sunday, April 20, 2014

Simple Advice

I have some advice for you

 










 Get out there. Because you never know what you might find.










Words I Wish Were Mine

Famous
By Naomi Shihab Nye

The River is famous to the fish
(the river is it's home, it's safety, it's danger, it's world.)

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth 
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds 
watching him from the birdhouse.
(That cat could change a birds world for good or bad. Watch out.)

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom 
is famous to your bosom.
(your idea.. it's all yours.)

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe.
which is famous only to floors.
(This is golden! I love this for so many reasons I can't explain)

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it 
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.
(You could mean the world to someone, and not even know. Or someone could mean the world to you, and they don't even care. but you hold onto that moment, memory, in the form of a picture.. past lovers.. past friends.. past family..)

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines, 
famous as the one who smiled back.
(Wait for an old man to cross the street, and smile! Smile to a kid in line! Smile to people as you walk by!)

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous.
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.
(some of the most important, and impactful things to do are the small simple things! Like smiling! I want to remember this! I want to live this!)

Monday, March 31, 2014

Starts and the Moon

I'm afraid of the dark.
 I'm afraid of what lurks in the dark
because I swear something.. someone.. does.
and I feel unseen eyes watch me, 
beyond the sidewalk
behind the tree
in the bushes
it burns




but the moonbeams chase it away.
All I have to do is look to her, 
and fears melt away like falling stars.

stars
twinkling
twinkling 
stars

Like diamonds glimmer in the sun
they glimmer
but their price, much more valuable

Peter Pan spilled a little too much pixie dust
and now it sparkles in the sky
reminding kids to fly
and to dream of adventures
and make wishes



I think Peter Pan and Tinkerbell are up there somewhere
or angles
or both

Why do we make wishes on falling stars?
Is that their last hurrah as they tumble?
Why not wish on ones that still hang? 
Or are they to proud to grant wishes?



Perhaps they are busy acting as guides.
Stars guild lost ships
And wayward souls
And lead us all home
Even if home isn't the place you sleep.

and they sing you to sleep, 
and act as a blanket on cold restless nights


and the moon?
chases away my fears
 kisses my forehead
sparks my wonder
and provides a sky full of stars
of angels
of fairies
and dreams

She keeps track of time
and lightens my mind
with new ideas

and I bleed with her


and I think she bleeds with me.. too
She cries with me


And she follows me where ever I go
When I was young I watched her out the car window 
as she zipped along the side, promising to never leave my side
And made sure I made it home safe.
And the stars lead the way.
Then they tucked me in, and watched me from my bedroom window.

They still do that every night.

The moon is my light, when I'm lost in the dark










Ask The Tree

Why does a tree grow? 
Seriously, what motivates it to keep going?

When the wind blows, when a branch falls, what keeps it from giving up? From simply not growing anymore. 

Have you ever seen a plant that just decided to stop? I haven't. Only when it takes its last breath of life does growth stop, but till then, there will always be new sprouts and stretching limbs.

Don't you get tired tree?

Don't you grow frustrated with obstacles? Don't you cry when you get hurt?

When lovers come and cut your skin with knives. Claiming it's a symbol of love. Does that make you angry? Does that make you sad? 

When the tree next to you has fuller branches, when it seems to curve and twist just right. Does that make you jealous? Tell me tree, have you ever felt ugly?

Because no matter what, you still grow. You reach your arms to the sky. To the sun. You soak up every drop of water. You soak up every ray. And turn into growth, turn it into energy. You make something out of nothing. Day in and day out.

But why? What are you reaching for tree?

Do you long to to play with the clouds? Do you yearn for the company of the sun? Is it heaven that you reach for?


How has a tree masted the skill of continual self growth, when so many humans give up?


Sunday, March 23, 2014

Space Camp

If I were to die tomorrow...
In the morning I would hike with my dad
Early afternoon I would have a BBQ party in my grandmas back yard
Late afternoon me and my friends would ride our bikes to the church parking lot, and play kick the can.
That night me and mom would sleep under trees, blanked in stars and fall asleep to the lullaby of our voices.
Then I would slip away in peace.

If I died in 30 years...
In the morning I would go walking with my dad
Early afternoon we would have a BBQ party in my back yard
Mid afternoon, my mom and I would talk over toast and hot chocolate.
Late afternoon me, my kids, and my hubby would ride bikes to the park, and play steal the flag.
That night we would sleep under trees, blanked in starts, listening to the beat of my children's breath and to the lyrics of me and my husbands conversation.
Then I would slip away in peace.

SPACE filled with family. With friends
SPACE filled With laughter. With grins
SPACE filled with air, with trees and honey bees
SPACE filled with old memories
is my CAMP is my home
is my CAMP is my safety
is my CAMP is my core

is my
SPACE CAMP


I know what I want






You know  what you want to be when you grow up, so stop telling people you don't.
And you keep daydreaming about his eyes, so stop saying your over it
You know what school you want to go to
You know how you feel about sports
You know what you want to learn
You know your standards, so stop letting people persuade you to bend them.
You know you secretly sing in the shower, hoping to get good
You know you secretly doodle, hoping to get good
And you dance
You know you what you want to name your first girl
You want a big family,don't let peoples teasing bother you
You know you don't really have much to complain about, so stop pretending you do.
You know this.

You know this.

So stop telling people you don't

SHOUT IT!
Shout!

I want to be a teacher when I grow up! Even though the pay sucks!
I want you to say me you love me! And you miss me! I would wear your promise ring.
I want to write, to sing and make art as my hobby! Even though I suck at those!
I want to go to a top class college that would never accept me!
I want to be athletic, but not an athlete! (Because I might get a flat chest.)
I want to learn more about the education system along with history and science.
I want to learn lots of random facts.
I want to be a good example, I don't want to swear, I don't want to dress like a slut, I don't want to stand out for the wrong reasons. Molly Mormon is a complement. I wish I lived up to the name.
I want a son named James, then a girl named Emma, then twins Andrew and Alice, lastly I wish for a son named Mathew. 
I want to be the best mom ever.

I've got nothing to complain about!
I'm glad my mom and dad got re-married after divorce, they both seem so happy now.
I'm glad I get to see my dad every other weekend.
I'm glad I have step siblings.
I'm glad I have wonderful friends that will be so hard to say goodbye to.
I'm glad I've had trials, they keep me humble, and they keep me learning.

I know this because my bones told me.
because my bones shake when its right
because my heart pumps so loud I swear everyone can hear it!
because my eyes water for no reason.. or for all the reasons
because my ears hear the music most can't

I can taste it.
I can feel it.
I can see it
just beyond my reach.

I can
I can

It's written in my bones.

I know it is






Monday, March 17, 2014

Skinny Girl


Skinny bones, and simple clothes. Covered her skin. covered her bones. Skinny legs  walked along. Walked down the road. Alone. Skinny streets and skinny sidewalks. She passed by skinny trees and small house lots. She walked a lot. She walked and looked for something. Get away from something. Skinny girl had black hair and white teeth. Skinny girl walked down the street. Down the street. One foot. Two feet. Down the street. Skin and bones, covered by simple clothes. Down the road. Smelled like fall, smelled like rain. She walked to escape pain. So much pain in a small body. So much in a skinny body. She would burst. And she would curse, loud enough for the wind to hear. The wind played with her hair and swept away the whispers. Skinny girl almost blew over. Skinny girl. Built of bone. Covered in skin. Wouldn't let any one in, ever again.

Beautiful Life, Painful Death

Her smile was warming, her eyes were bright. She smelled like roses and looked like light.

Her soft smooth hands laced with mine as she pulled me to to the sunshine meadows, and star lit streets. Her hair bounced on her back, and she never looked back, and her hair was black, but she didn't know what the dark was. She told me there was no such thing. There was no such thing as fear.  She flowered me with kisses and told me to make wishes on all the stars, and they would come true. 

I stood in perfect moments, and she whispered in my ear that it would never end. 

His smile was timid, his eyes held fright. He smelled like blood, and looked like night.

His hands were cold, and clammy. When he reached for me,  I pulled away. We lurked in dark alleys and strolled down rainy roads. There, he told me what pain was,  and  told me stories of fear. His voiced crackled like a fire, and it glowed in his eyes, and it burned. He taught me about sadness, as he wiped away my tears.  He rushed to my side, the first time I my heart cracked. I was so scared. But he told me that was normal. 

I stood in perfect moments, and he leaned in and told me in would one day end.

She told me time was unlimited.
He told me it was limited.
She told me to take my time.
He told me not to waste it.
She told me it joy is constant.
He told me to embrace it.

I don't know who to trust, or who to believe... 
because life whispered in my ear this would never end. When death  leaned in and told me it would.





Wednesday, March 12, 2014

If I Was Not Afraid

If I wasn't afraid I would scream! 
I would just yell for no reason! 

And I would enjoy it when all eyes fell on me. I wouldn't feel my cheeks grow hot. I wouldn't even tell them why I yelled! Or heck, maybe I would! Maybe I would boldly tell them my opinion. Maybe I would make a witty joke. Maybe they would laugh because I was calm enough to let my humor shine. Maybe I would share my ideas and people would think I'm really smart. Maybe they would seek my advice and I would bluntly give it.

I would stop using the word 'maybe' so much! 
That's a word of uncertainty. 
And I would be certain. 

I would strut through any haunted house, and sit threw all the scary movies, without being phased.
I would look at you right in the eye, instead of cowardly letting mine flicker away.
I would tell you that you're really cool, because I usually think people are, I just never tell them.
I would eat all sorts of food and always try new flavors instead of letting them clog my airway.
I would be quick and confident in making choices.
I would go and squish that stupid spider!
I would not tear up when I got a shot.
I would sing really loud.
I would dance really crazy.
I would raise my hand in class.
I would go places alone.
I would drive on the freeway more.
I would laugh off any suspicions that somethings lurking in the dark.
I would laugh at the dark.
I would laugh at the devil.

I would do all this and more... if I wasn't afraid...

If I wasn't afraid of creepy crawlies
If I wasn't afraid of people
If I wasn't afraid of needles
If I wasn't afraid of new things
If I wasn't afraid of old things
If I wasn't afraid of being heard
If I wasn't afraid of the devil
If I wasn't afraid of you.

But the truth is.. I'm afraid.
of this...
and much more...






Magic


I think I saw some magic. 
I think I saw it twinkle in your eye. 
I think I saw it kiss your lips when they curled up. 
I think I saw it play with your hair, or was that the wind? 
I think I saw it sitting on a flower, on a branch, in the grass. 
I think I saw it in a raindrop, or was it in the clouds making raindrops? 
I think I saw it chase the birds, and play with the kids. 
I think I saw it trapped in a bubble, and it cheered when it was released. 
I think I saw it smile at me.
But I have bad eyes.
I think I heard some magic. 
I think I heard it laugh. Or was that you? 
I think I hear it sing along with the birds, with the guitar, with the radio. 
I think I heard it whisper, or was that was the wind too? 
I think I heard it pray. Or maybe that was me. 
I think I heard it tell me I was loved. 
I think it told me I was beautiful.
I think I believed it. 
But I have bad ears.
I think I touched some magic. 
I think it has soft skin.
I think it has rough skin
I think it felt like water, like bark, like flower pedals.
I think it feels warm.
I think it feels cold.
I think I felt it wrap it's arms around me.
But I have poor senses.


Monday, March 3, 2014

Bricks and Words

Bricks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. 
WRONG.
Bricks and stones will bruise my body, tear my skin and could probably freaking kill me. 
And the seemingly harmless words?
Those will bruise my thoughts, tear my confidence and could probably freaking kill me.
But whats weird is those same things could be used for good.. if you wanted.
Bricks and stones could build a strong homes, guide the river and provide safety. 
Now that sounds better.
Words could build strong souls, guide the lost, and provide safety.
I guess its all on how you use it.
So be careful with that brick in your hand. That heavy load could have more then one outcome. It's all about How you use it. It might require more work to construct something. It's easier to toss it around carelessly. But tossing it will eventually get tiring. And before you know it, you could cause a lot of damage. 
So be careful with that brick in your hand.
Bricks and stones may break my bones, and words can hurt me.. too.
Bricks and words. 
Words and bricks.
Same thing.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Adventure

Grab your boots


Because its time for an...


Why? Well silly, because...

 

I was thinking of going..


Or just somewhere in..


 Why? Don't ya know..


And personally,


So lets take lots of pictures


And remember to...


I understand at first it can be scary, but..


and with that, ALWAYS remember...


 So lets go! Because...