Wonderful Power

Poetic words...they have a difficult time running through my fingers, but when they slip through my lips, passed my tongue, they carry with them my heart. But sometimes even in speech, no word can be adjective enough in showing what my eyes see and what my soul feels. Letters that form words mean little, only their hard, flesh definition, without the feeling that one puts into them. I do not speak seriously if each sound that escapes me has not yet enveloped my heart and taken a piece of my soul, as if to transfer a piece of me to whomever is at receiving's end. A sound cannot be muttered, nor a picturesque scene captured in one's eye, without seeing and hearing the beauty, capability, and power that rests within each sight and each word. These must be seen and heard for what is there on the surface, but also for all the beauty and power that go unnoticed by most. One does not often remember, or even realize, the power and strength these wonders hold. In an instant, we might all be dust and become part of the whole. But as we are not, one must be unyielding in gratitude and wonder, for at any moment, we could become the wonder.

Audrey Lynn

Close to my Heart

Mr. Antolini's lecture to Holden Caufield in J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye.

"I have a feeling that you're riding for some kind of terrible, terrible fall. But I don't honestly know what kind...It may be the kind where, at the age of thirty, you sit in some bar hating everybody who comes in looking as if he might have played football in college. Then again, you may pick up just enough education to hate people who say, 'It's a secret between he and I.' Or you may end up in some business office, throwing paper clips at the nearest stenographer. I just don't know...This fall I think you're riding for--it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. they gave up before they ever really even got started...I don't want to scare you...but I can very clearly see you dying nobly, one way or another, for some highly unworthy cause...If I write you something down for you, will you read it carefully?...Oddly enough, this wasn't written by a practicing poet. It was written by a psychoanalyst names Wilhelm Steket...Here's what he said: 'The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.'...I think that one of these days...you're going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you've got to start going there. But immediately. You can't afford to lose a minute. Not you...And I hate to tell you...but I think that once you have a fair idea where you want to go, your first move will be to apply yourself in school. You'll have to. You're a student--whether the idea appeals to you or not. You're in love with knowledge...And I think you'll find, once you get past all the...Mr. Vinsons, you're going to start getting closer and closer--that is, if you want to, and if you look for it and wait for it--to the kind of information that will be very, very dear to your heart. Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry...I'm not trying to tell you...that only educated and scholarly men, if they're creative and brilliant to begin with--which, unfortunately, is rarely the case--tend to leave infinitely more valuable records behind them than men do who are merely brilliant and creative. They tend to express themselves more clearly, and they usually have a passion for following their thoughts to the end. And--most important--nine times out of ten they have more humility than the unscholarly thinker...Something else an academic education will do for you. If you go along with it any considerable distance, it'll begin to give you an idea what size mind you have. What it'll fit and, maybe, what it won't. After a while, you'll have an idea what kind of thoughts your particular size mind should be wearing. For one thing, it may save you an extraordinary amount of time trying on ideas that don't suit you, aren't becoming to you. You'll begin to know your true measurements and dress your mind accordingly."

The Catcher in the Rye is my all-time favorite book, and this part, this lecture, holds the most meaning for me. It says to me that no matter who we may be, we must take everything that we can from what is available to us. If we don't, we will only ever merely wear the exoskeleton of the person we want to be. We can't spend all of our time hating the behavior that we see; we can't hate the changing times and what they turn into. We will get lost looking for what we will never find. If we are to be happy, we should get our ideas in order and make them real, instead of just searching and waiting. We can't always find who we are; we have to create ourselves.

This book, especially this little part, was beautifully written. Every word can be applied to any one person's life. I will always hold this close to my heart as a reminder that we are all human, and we all stray from the path we should be on. Sometimes we must put searching aside and bring creation to the table.

Strikethrough

Wealth. Poverty.
Arrogance. Humility.

That which is broken,
Replaced. Patched.

Earnings stashed in
An elite bank account.
A dirt worn cup.

Dinner is a stomach filled.
With fallen crumbs.

Excess dollar bills trashed in haste.
The last of the change traded for bread.

A little breeze from
A little pressure of the foot.
Sitting beside the sidewalk.

Lose it all in a moment,
Fall painfully to one's knees.
Stand up, start over.

Audrey Lynn

Still needs work; will be revised.

One Purpose

Are we all the same? No, but we do all go through life with the same purpose: to live. What makes someone humiliate and criticize another? What gives them the right to be the judge and decide the kind of person someone should be? We all have habits, or something we like or do that may not sit well with another, or is just out of the ordinary. So, if we abided by the unspoken rule to ridicule the unconventional, we should all be ridiculing ourselves. Though of course, this is not the case, as many individuals believe in personal perfection, or at least denial of flaws. Few are brave enough to accept a person as a whole, as opposed to picking at their every supposed flaw. Each and every person deserves to be respected for simply being a human being like everyone else.

Let's bring change together.

I am much better off than many, yet I still feel helpless when I see the less fortunate at a level lower than myself. If I had the spare change for everyone I see, I would give it all away without a moment's hesitation. One day I hope to bring change, whether minuscule or grand. Change in any size is still change, and our world is in need of it. In the mean time, I'm going to smile at everyone I see, talk to those who need a kind word, and learn what I can to help better our kind.

It's so easy to pass by with a blind eye, but it takes a certain kind of love and courage to approach a person in need of some change or just a kind word and a genuine smile. How many of us can say we've done that? Saying you will or you want to is wonderful, but do you have the courage to? Or is self-image keeping you from it? We're all capable, and it's time we all act like it, myself included.

Tell me, what have you done?

Enlightenment

My mom and her two grandsons; my nephews.

I have just spent a little over three weeks with my mom and my younger sister in a town where I know no one but the two of them. I have been trying to be someone that I sincerely thought I wanted to be for years now, but it always left me taking for granted the people closest to me: my family. When I found out that what I thought was only going to be a one to two-week visit was actually my staying there for the remainder of my summer, I was annoyed that I would have to leave my friends and plans behind. In arriving, though, I figured that I could make the best out of it. After only a few days, the relationship between my sister and me began to mend itself, and my mom and I began again a new relationship. One that had been delayed because of me. We proceeded to have fun doing simple things like watching movies from my mom's gargantuan collection, playing Sorry!, and shooting each other with sarcastic insults, as any good blood relative in my family would do. During the day, while my mom was working, my sister and I would blast music and be silly, take pictures, clean up, and make dinner. Throughout the day we would talk about things that we never got the chance to do together, once again because I took her, my family, for granted. While those two were asleep, I spent late nights on the phone with either of the two

My beautiful sister.

people outside my blood line who have proven they love me for who I am. Amongst all of this, I finally came to the realization of what I have done wrong in my life so far. I no longer need the people I thought I had before, as I had been proven wrong. I know now the ones who have always been there are still there, even when I didn't seen them before. I have been enlightened this summer; I know who I want to be not only physically, but personally, mentally, and emotionally, as well. I can't ignore what is in front of me anymore, but instead I will appreciate it before I lose it. At 20 years old, I feel more whole than I ever have before. You're never too young or too old to see and appreciate with sincerity what you have.


I know this isn't exactly a "creative splurge," but my last day with my mom and my sister, Rachel, is tomorrow, and these passed few days have hit me hard with overwhelming emotions and realizations. I love my family more than my words could hope to express. I hope this touches someone out there and helps their heart to feel the love that already surrounds them.

Audrey Lynn

Electricity

 

Soft to the touch are the hands I stroke,
My fingers curling and intertwining with his,
Caressing every inch, memorizing each
Curve, crevice, and movement.

Beneath such gentle skin lies the calluses
Formed from pressure and consequence,
Broken blisters of past regret, scars
Visible only to the mind that brushes them.

Still my fingertips kiss the skin with a
Passion that hardly words can speak of,
A stroke so rich, when our hands meet,
The sensation could only be electricity.

Audrey Lynn

Hold on to Your Radiance

Unhappiness, discontentment, dissatisfaction, disappointment: all will make contact with one's heart. None will make an appearance without the company of another. In those moments of indefinite vulnerability, all will strike in one blow in an attempt to seize any light and smother it. Falling into this sense of darkness will only augment the difficulty to see a sliver of light in such a thick-walled prison. One must push away the fear of loss and inability and let the radiance of his heart lead the way back to a brilliant dawn. Don't lose grip of a positive scope.

The Race

Running along the edge.
Pebbles tearing naked feet.
Bricks flying in pursuit.
Closing on their target.

Legs pumping rapidly.
Oxygen hastily circulating.
Adrenaline cascading within.

Knees buckle.
Race lost.

Defeat?

Audrey Lynn

Corruption Lingers

Innocence is brought into the world at birth, but at some point, corruption begins to singe each nerve. Soon, a fire burns, hidden behind a broken compass. Over time, the compass is either mended or left to deteriorate. If left to rust, the stagnant corruption will break free, creating a monster of agony. This creature is in every one of us, waiting to be exposed. But we can teach ourselves and each other how to mend the compass inside each of us. We all have a choice; we can choose what kind of person we want to be. You can choose to conquer corruption.

This picture is of my gorgeous, now one year old, nephew.

Tent City

I was out one day, and someone very dear to me was showing me around the parts in downtown St. Louis where the homeless live. We ended up walking along the river, as he intended to show me Tent City. And it is just that, a little city made of varying tents. These can be camping tents, or a makeshift house made from what's around, and people reside there. The thing about inner St. Louis is that it used to be gorgeous. Classic architecture, booming businesses, simply a wonderful place. Now it is left to ruins; the place is crawling with abandoned buildings, factories, and railroads, and covered in graffiti. Despite this, it was a memorable adventure. I was given a chance to glimpse how people survive when they have little to nothing. As we were walking back, we both saw a simple message graffitied onto a wall, "Everything was beautiful...." Needless to say, we had to photograph it. It says so much in those three words. Just imagine what could have been. How much hope is left in that little city that things could once again be beautiful? What are you willing to do to feed that hope?

Shadow of the Moon

My fingers remain unmoved,
the pen runs dry,
the pencil crumbles away;
my silent words empty.

The sweet composition
of conception settles gently
underneath a white light
and clear shadows.

Within the depths
lies a buried purity
between each heart and soul;
from here poetic reflections fall.

Such words speak of age,
questioning growth in wisdom, fear.
Enigmas hidden behind guilty
shadows of the subconscious, revealed.

Forgotten secrets, lost in nightfall,
uncovered each evening by pure
light as my words descend
from the shadow of the moon.

Audrey Lynn

Master Flame, Teach Me to Burn

The water burns,
   but the fire does not cool.
Instead they work together,
   carving streaks of third
      degree burns into my skin.
They shorten my match
   yet feed my flame;
      they teach me to strike,
         quickly and unsuspecting.
My scarred face learns to show
   no emotion as I make you fall,
      engulfed in flame and
         suffocating in water.

Audrey Lynn

Bloody Opaque Sky

A poem to start this off...

The trail ahead is a

trend of gray scale,
a smokey sky spattered
with drops of blood.

Beneath traveling feet
are jagged fragments,
never leaving a smooth
surface to step upon.

A pawn is forced forward
despite its better judgment.
Footsteps later debris is flying,
blood gushing into the smoke.

No other option but to be
pushed along a broken gray
road awaiting further
destruction of the body.

The light, any light, is gone.
Eyes venture, trying to see past
the opaque sky but succeeding
only in ceaseless despair.

The sound of soaring metal
whizzes past sensitive ears.
Drums explode internally, blood
cascading down a neck, bare chest.

The pawn travels onward,
finally stopping in a stupor.
A single ray of brilliance
reflects off a red body.

The first light such pale skin
has seen in surrounding gray,
it shines off floating waste
and engulfs the beaten pawn.

The red spattered smoke wipes
clean the soaking skin,
reviving the wounds and
deepening the crimson sky.

Restriction looming overhead,
feet moving as summoned,
legs become more secure
to veer off to their own path.

The sharpness beneath the feet
clears away and the smoke
fades to a translucent curtain
in front of resolved eyes.

The wind picks up heavily,
wrapping around and around,
shielding the body as it
takes the first fearless side-step.

Audrey Lynn

Hi guys! I'm new at this, but I hope you enjoy what you see!