"Beauty-be not caused-It Is" -Emily Dickinson

Beauty—be not caused—It Is—
Chase it, and it ceases—
Chase it not, and it abides—

Overtake the Creases

In the Meadow—when the Wind
Runs his fingers thro' it—
Deity will see to it
That You never do it—

"He fumbles at your spirit" -Emily Dickinson

He fumbles at your spirit
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
He stuns you by degrees,

Prepares your brittle substance
For the ethereal blow,
By fainter hammers, further heard,
Then nearer, then so slow

Your breath has time to straighten,
Your brain to bubble cool,
--Deals one imperial thunderbolt
That scalps your naked soul.

I'll Let You Know

The cracks in my ceiling
Create in me a cameo view
Your face is hidden there
I'll extract the thoughts

I've become so ill
Ill of seeing your world
Collapse beneath your feet
It's going to turn up

You don't see the light
You tried to warn me
I will continue to return
Unfortunately, I'll keep it up

Surely you're gonna find me
Stuck inside your veins
Discover joy within you
Show that fact off again

I did it all for you
Yesterday has become home
The pastiche of you and I
It's organized itself out
There's no closure here
Show me the ending of
That privelage I deserved today

If your brown eyes come running
Back to me they return
If you still need me here
I'll let you know where to
Go from there.

Untitled {Short Story, Work In Progress}

I

Sure, she was free. That is what her finite mind told her. In the simplest measurements, her boxed-in life of childish schemes was no longer what her feelings followed. "Feelings strictly should not be what you rely on," she told herself. The derivation of the teenage antics behind her came from nothing but emotion. She felt as if from nothing but emotion. She felt as if this most certainly should not be the case. Feigning a sense of gratitutde within herself, she rose from her pose beneath the sheets of her bed and slowly meandered towards the chamber door. Albert made a dash at heel,
"Albert, darling, this is not the time to be smitten in favor of my Achilles tendon."

"Your Achilles tendon is of no further interest to me, contrary to popular belief, cats hear affection only to other cats, not to humans."

"Oh, goulash, you smelly feline."

Albert had a terrible case of the Wednesdays. It was unusual for him to be in a vile mood today, yet he continued to mope around the apartment as if someone had accidentally crammed cat nip up his small, tail-covered derrière. She would no longer put up with his morning capers. She stole to the kitchenette and pured Albert a fresh bowl of food. As suddenly as the last piece of sustinence hit the glass bowl, Albert and his satire began to make a turn around. It was almost gay the way he perched on the arm rest following breakfast. She sat on the vintage sofa as she awaited the ring of the coffee maker signaling the start of her morning.

"Albert, baby, you really should consider it a part of your routine beginning at the crack of dawn to decide to be nice for once when I lift my head from the pillow."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, I feed you and clean your shit from the box every day."

Albert jeered; the coffee pot rang. Sniveling she straightened her legs and skipped to the counter to receive a cup of black coffee. She then reached for the Godiva and shoved a sixteenth of a bar into the mug. Turning up the volume on the stereo and placing her Queen compact disc in the slot, she mosied to her closet door.

II

"Honey, I just don't think it's right for Linley to become numb to everything but his downs kids."

"What do you mean? He only had to have a parent teacher conference this morning, so he couldn't walk with you to Kitson. Don't get yourself worked up over nothing. Just be glad you're not Britney, or better yet K-Fed. It'll pass, that won't."

"Kassandra, dear, watch the curb."

Kassandra stumbled off the curb in her purple Mary Janes as she flagged a taxi. Odetta climbed into the taxi after Kassandra and decided it was best just to listen to her friends mindless celebrity gossip.

"O.M.G. Jess, the hoe, was in the store yesterday, and I talked her our of buying these horrendous bangles. Shit, they were awful. I can't believe she even considered them. She's truly a dumb blonde. I totally can't believe it..."

Odetta only halfway listened to Kassandra's babbling. It had become a regular routine for her to question the few reasons why she was friends with Kassandra in the first place. They were completely opposite people. It often times became apparent that Kassandra was more like her child than truly her friend, despite the fact that they were exactly the same age give or take only a few days.

Besides the fact that there used to not be a Kitson store located in New York City, Kassandra had started one. It had been a huge endeavor and had involved too much time and less needed pain. Odetta had always thought that if Kassandra had not been consumed by "her" Kitson, she might be slightly more sane. Nonetheless, Kassandra had taken on responsibility of the store and it's many prospects. Their friendship had then become a mother-daughter relationship involving many sleepless nights of weeping and chocolate ice cream. Kassandra, of course, was the child and usually ate most of the ice cream by herself while being held and wiped of her many hot tears of anxiety. When the store was finally started and the business confusion settled, Kassandra and her "mother," Odetta, began to drift from eachother, not so much in distance, but in heart. Kassandra never seemed to realize this fact, which could be said of many relationships one might involve themself in.

They neared their block and the taxi swiftly halted. Kassandra threw a wad of cash at his face and nearly jumped out the door and onto the curb. Odetta followed her and they began to trek towards Kitson. Kassandra had been chatting away, mostly to herself, the entire way, never minding if a question was not answered or a comment not made, for she talked much too often anyway. Odetta knew she would ne'er get a word in, so her mind began to drift once again. They stepped in the front entrance of the shop and Kassandra was immediately bombarded with people and their questions. No matter how much she would deny it, Kassandra loved the attention. She thrived on it and had her whole life. Odetta knew this, and couldn't possibly oblige to these needs. She had decided long ago in her relationship with Kassandra that she would not give her the attention that she wanted ever so terribly. Kassandra didn't mind mostly; she blew it off as being "just the way she is," when she knew somewhere in her heart that it was intentional for Odetta to act this way. Still, through their many downfalls, they remained dependent on eachother for most things.

Odetta slowly faded into the background and eventually decided to slip out and head back to her apartment to sulk over Linley and achieve her daily task of trying to come up with some sort of creativity.

Novel {Untitled and a Work In Progress}

Preface:

Love is described in many ways, but to put it simply, Love is the object of attachment, attachment is the object of attraction, and attraction is the force which combines two things. Therefore, love is a force. A force that is so strong, it causes even the wisest men to be dumbfounded and speechless and the strongest of women to become weak at the knees at even the thought of being in his arms.



Chapter 1.

"Five more minutes,"

her mother yelled from the bottom of the staircase too cheerfully to ever be sincere. As she listened from her hot red painted bedroom, Sophie could see her mother's smile fade from her face as the reality of her daughter's departure began to sink into her mind.

"Be down here in two minutes!"

she yelled less cheerfully now. Sophie listened carefully for her mother's faded black pumps to click across the clean, polished hardwood floors towards the kitchen. Sophie then slammed her suitcase shut and zipped the sides without tenderness. She slung her green messenger bag over her shoulder and lifted her other luggage from off the crisp black and white comfortor that covered her bed that was too large for only one person. As she rolled her suitcase clumsily towards the door, she took one final glance around the scarlet walls and finally reached the door. With much difficulty, she turned the knob and stepped through the frame. As she struggled through the doorway, her plain brown rolling suitcase bumped the edge of the door and fell on its side, dumping all of her belongings on the soft grey carpet. Sophie heard a gentle chuckle from down the hallway.

"Like out of a movie,"

her brother voiced, his blue eyes sparkling with the laughter that filled the air. Taking his time, he meandered across the floor to his sister's side to help with the newly created mess.

"If I'm not down those stairs in less than a half a second, and counting, Mom will eat me alive with a fake grin on her face."

"Haha,"

Joseph smiled,

"That was classic, I'll have to take it on a loan sometime."

"Sorry, it's copyrighted,"

Sophie retorted.

"Well, okay then,"

Joseph replied, knowing she was only kidding, for he knew his sibling all too well. As Joseph helped his sister up from her crouched stance, he stole the handle of her bag and took off down the stairwell. Sophie had always been envious of her brother's fluidity and grace, a trait that Sophie herself hadn't inherited.



She followed him down the steps with her other bag over her shoulder. Her red Chuck Taylor's squeaked on the second stair from the bottom, just as always. Sophie remembered her junior prom when she tripped in her high heels and gown on that step and had landed in her date's arms. Little instances that are amazingly embarrassing, thus utterly unforgettable. What Sophie didn't realize was that she had been standing almost perfectly still at the bottom of the stairwell staring at the second step for longer than normal. When she looked up from her daydream, her three other family memebers were standing in the foyer with annoyed looks on their perfect faces.

"Sorry,"

she said shyly staring down at her Converse covered feet.

"Let's just get this over with,"

her father said. With a glance only to her elder brother's smiling face, Sophie stepped out the front door and out to her brother's black Jeep Grand Cherokee. She had always loved her brother's car. It smelled of his cologne and smoke from a former owner. It had always been a comfortable place to go where she could just breathe. Joseph took Sophie virtually wherever she needed to go if she didn't want to be alone. Sophie and her brother had always been so close. Maybe it was because they liked the same music, or that they had practically the same brainwaves, but it was probably because they both were so different from their parents and felt that if they weren't with eachother, they might become someone whom they wouuld never want to be, just as their fake, confused parents had. Joseph had always been the more beautiful of the two, more fluid as well, but they both could be considered good-looking. Sophie was talented in the arts, while Joseph in athletics, but somehow, they clicked with an indescribable love. Joseph, along with his parents, followed Sophie out to the car. With ease, Joseph lifted his sister's suitcase and placed it in the trunk and slammed the hatch closed. Sophie stood leaning against the driver's door, waiting for the moment she had been looking forward to all summer. Her mother took a step towards Sophie and gave her a meaningless hug and kiss. As skilled of an actress as her mother was to most, Sophie knew better than to believe her sign of affection. Next, her father took a long, fluid slide towards his daughter and cradled her in his arms. Again this hug was meaningless in Sophie's eyes.
"Bye, honey,"
each of her parents said one bye one,
"We love you."
"Bye,"
Sophie said,
"Love you too."
Joseph walked around the car from his stance behind the Jeep and stepped over beside his sister and took the same position leaning against the driver's door that Sophie had held a minute ago.
"You ready?"
he asked, smiling.
"Yes,"
Sophie replied, returning the smile. They both climbed into the car, Sophie in the passenger's seat, Joseph in the driver's position. Joseph backed his black car out of the driveway and rolled down the street. Neither of them waved or even looked back. Joseph knew how glad his sister was to go to college. He had felt the same way graduating high school with a scholarship to the college that he preferred. A college that was close to home, but not close enough to stay at home. Joseph attempted to strike up a conversation.
"So, you excited?"
"I'm just happy to finally get out of that house,"
Sophie replied.
"I know the feeling..."
Joseph said. They had hours ahead of them, and yet, there wasn't much to talk about; nothing that interested them enough to pursue for a conversation, for that matter.

They would arrive at La Guardia Airport with just enough time to eat a quick lunch and get through the security procedures. They had decided earlier, at home, that they were going to eat Subway because it was another one of those many things that Joseph and Sophie had in common, but their parents didn't always agree with them on. They decided to go through security first and following those typical procedures, eat in the down time while waiting for the plane to arrive and unload. Besides, the Subway was beyond the metal detectors. Of course, when Sophie and her brother arrived at the front of La Guardia, there was a lengthy line of people waiting to check their bags, inside as well as outside. Just their luck.
"Damnit. Damnit. Damnit to hell,"
Joseph cursed. Sophie was reminded of the first time Joseph had cursed in front of her. To say the least, Sophie had her brother placed slightly lower in her 5th grade eyes that day. He rarely used unbecoming words, but when it came down to the more frusterating moments of life, it seemed as if some words can not describe a situation better.
"Time to stand in line. Inside or out, you choose. *cough* Inside! *cough*"
"Hmm... It's such a beautiful day... I think some fresh smog filled air in my lungs would do me good... Ou..."
"Inside it is!"
Joseph interrupted. He eyed the valet and said,
"I won't be too long, no more than trois hours,"
he said holding up three fingers and flipping him a twenty.

Sacrifices

Him: "Why?" he asked

Her: "Only for you"
her response
lying on his bed

Him: "I would have told you except
for that little di I know
your love for me"

Her: "Only for you"

"Away!" she said,
"Never again will I cry for you,
and only for you!"

Out the door he escaped
leaving with everything but a knife
On the piano she fell

Her: "Only for you"

Him: "Never again, "
he said
"Could I so deeply desire one,
Idiot, she's alone for you,
only for you."

"My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun" -Emily Dickinson

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -
In Corners - till a Day
The Owner passed - identified -
And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods -
And now We hunt the Doe -
And every time I speak for Him -T
he Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow -
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -
I guard My Master's Head -'
Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I'm deadly foe -
None stir the second time -
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -
Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live
He longer must - than I -
For I have but the power to kill,
Without--the power to die--