Red Hill Pocatello

Lucky Peak

So, it wasn't the most sunny day to take pictures of Lucky Peak. But it was fun anyways.

My Old High School

These are pictures of my old high school, Borah. One of my friends is making a new banner for the newspaper's web site, so I took these for him. It is funny because we are both graduated, yet he still manages the web site because he created it and I still help out once in a while.

Anyways, thought I would just post them and I'll post a link to the banner when it is done.

Endurable

We live in a world where roses are whatever color your eyes make them; thus no one sees what you see and the consequence is no one can cooperate. And if we could love the same, if we could want the same, if we could all be greedless the same, then we would be bored. Such gruesome lack of equality only gives us the challenges that force our tried souls to grow in strength and wisdom. It is with these thoughts that I conclude there is no way to create peace forever. But it still should be every souls goal in order to, in the process, make other peoples life one step closer to wonderful.

Just remember that the ideal is unachievable and know that this reality is endurable.

Fingertips

I lost my touch.
And know I say that
in the most literal sense.

Reading the lines of my fingertips,
realizing they are only what a scientist has made of them.
And I won’t stop thinking
because I don’t know how.

Reach out
to finger my way through fog.
Haze.
Haze of all colors,
not just purple.

Fingertips may turn the colors
that classify a rainbow.
But I can’t reflect their identity
the way I want to,
the way one might need me too.

Run around
to escape the overwhelming human presence.
Existence.
Existence of all colors,
not just purple.

African Night

I went to African Night at my school (Idaho State University). I've wanted to practice taking more people shots. What do you think? Do they tell a story?

Blind

Click
Click
Sliding plastic ball
against the tiled floor.

I look up to see your brilliantly worn face.
I look down out of shame of my gawking ways.

Shhh
Shhh
Finger tips slide
against the rust colored wall.

From the corner of my vision I see you find your destination.
You lower yourself to the floor—waiting for . . .

I stare again.
But what is the shame?
You can’t see anyways.

Your sunglasses are not used
to shield your fragile eyes from light—
no, their sole purpose is to
hide
the sheet of blankness
that resides in those globes.

I cry.

How is it you stole
the blinders I voluntarily put on?

The End of Humanity

A comical standing,
record breaking cheers
for the bad guy.
We fear!

Loud roar of applause,
sound bites of threats
against us.
We are set!

We live by nature—
instinct of survival.
We humanize by force—
misguidance of intuition.

No, I don’t believe
in this final end by flaw.

We will survive
by one tool;
crafted and gifted
to only us.

But first: we must
choose.
Choose pen
over fire.



(This is not a new-new poem. But I like it. Inspired by The Dark Knight, which is more than a comic book movie if you really watch it. Feedback?)

My Winter Shots

Ricocheted

For a fraction of a second I thought the pain was
radiating from you and your
indecisive heart.
But I learned that you were not playing the part
and it knocked me back a step or two.
I had to learn not to think so blindly
because the pain will still want to be.

I can’t remember the reason why
I thought that you might be mine.
Rather it doesn’t matter now,
that chapter of my life already took it’s bow.

Ricocheted off the thought of you
and remembered the last time I felt unglued,
but I couldn’t be suspended in the past
because those feeling only pretended to last.

Remorse and pity have played their part,
let them get in and make my views tart.
But my attitude will be looking up,
confusion no longer making visions corrupt

For a fraction of second I thought I might be jealous
of everyone and their
amazing ability to obtain love.
But I imagine that I must go above
because life won’t take a sucker punch.
I must continue to make-believe I have so much to do
that I cannot stand around waiting for love and the blues