Thursday, May 26, 2011

Infinity

Like most everything, they come from a seed.
Sprouting, stretching and pushing up through the soil
A tree is growing here. First the height
Will increase exponentially, a teenage boy
Of a tree, having to be long and lean
Before it thickens in the midriff. Illuminated against the
Glow of clouds in the wintry nigh,
One can see each individual branch for what it's worth.
O, why art thou masked by leaves, fair tree?
While each and every branch offers bud upon bud of unending life,
A continuum of growth, an example of the infinity.
O, how many branches you can extend towards the sky!
O, how many people you can touch with those extensions,
While they all emerge from one central source.
I envy you, tree.
I envy your decorative leaves;
Your inability to go backwards, your ability to grow skyward;
The detail with which you are composed.
A piece of eternal life within a mortal millennia.
A slice of perfection within a world of tragedy.
Like you, my tree, I came from a seed.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Back to the Building Blocks

Ted Peterson, Forever Crystal

(Inspired by the changing of the seasons and the natural wonder associated with it.)


Loftily the grasses sway:
Held in mud, they'll never stray.
Drifting like the censored thoughts
I hold on to in this day.
Hexagonal webs of crystal fall;
Consistently original, uniformly small,
Losing their identities in the masses--
The idividual never existed at all.
With birth of young comes flight of old;
The botanic blooming, the Marigold;
The first few steps of a small child;
These the moments to which we'll hold.
O, cycle of death, and cycle of life
A time to fight the unending strife.          [M.K. Cook]

Baby

Is there no beat inside your womb:
Would you render it heartless?
Now it's left a broken tomb,
Tumbling down the precipice.
Yet you only saw a vision;
And dreamwork will lead fools astray.
This emptiness--perhaps an illusion--
Is causing your heartstrings to fray.
O, his passing will bring you solemnity;
You know he lives on above.
His existence is marked with brevity,
But also unconditional love.
Continue to feel, continue to be kind,
Within the deepest heartbreak, you will turn out fine.          [M.K. Cook]

Monday, May 23, 2011

Thoreau Impacts Me

Excerpt from Henry David Thoreau's Reflections at Walden

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."

Henry David Thoreau's challenge of living an isolated, wholesome life in nature epitomizes all that I stand for as an individual. I discovered Thoreau during the summer going into my freshman year; his flowery language and deep appreciation for raw forms of beauty inspire me. Thoreau writes movingly and fluidly, and never fails to chill me with this passage. Associating my own thoughts with the views of many other transcendentalist writers, Thoreau's clarity with which he sees the world pierces me as striking and powerful.  If i could give you one line that best describes who I am--and why I'm here--I'd say: "I [do] not wish to live what [is] not life, living is so dear..."

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Pedals

Inspired by Robert Frost, "Stopping by the woods on a Snowy Evening"

Blood that flows so silently,
Caught in creases of my knee;
Though you can't feel this wav'ring pain
It's succeeded to master me.
Pedals circling, up and over;
Peaceful fields, four-a-clover:
They're caught in my peripheral vision.
Expression blank, my mindset sober.
The bicycle swerved off some grass,
Metal against concrete yielded "Crash!"
I swiftly kicked free of its grip;
Please don't think my actions rash.
The asphalt was supple, a falling tide.
Downwards, wheels spun the ride.
Alone with phantoms at my side,
Alone with phantoms at my side.          [M.K. Cook]

Sarah

Character Sketch

While I wait for you
lost like a child
crawling, absorbed in the memory
of tiny eyes unblinking
and
While I wait for you
in your black dress
with sunken eyes
wishing for eternal life
like Heaven's existence will make or break you
I whisper
While I wait for you
you strong bull of a mother
once a giver of love, turned alien due to lack thereof
I reach out
through this heartbreak
I reach out          [M.K. Cook]

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Left of Center

Simile

Where were you then, in those moments
leaving, fading: myself as lonely as a stone
water washing over my exterior
with drought plaguing my insides
off the central stream
without the touch of flowing fluids
in a world where life continues to pass me by          [M.K. Cook]