The Cutting Board

2005-10-04T09:23:00.000-04:00

Since I was abandoned on getting my new template over the next few days I'm going to make (with a little help) my own. Then once that's up I'll start posting!

YEY! Finally!

(And I did write a new poem which you'll see as the first post on my new blog when I make it)

New Website

2005-09-20T16:23:00.000-04:00

Just so you're aware.

Ifionlyhadabigote.blogspot.com

My new website! I won't begin posting for another week or so when I get my new design for it but I figured I'd better tell you about it since I promised I'd give you the address before Friday.

There's going to be much more than poems though you should still expect every poem I write to be up there!

Service Announcment

2005-09-17T14:02:00.000-04:00

The following is a service announcement from your advisorys: (I've always wanted to say something like that!)

TCB, has been the same for the past, while, despite all my tales of "I'll update often" or "Except many updates soon", so why don't I write much anymore? Because I've been thinking. Yet I've never brought myself to express all my thoughts in words. But I'm going to! But I'm also gonna do it through song lyrics! <--there's something about music, that gives you that extra push!

Soo, momentarily, over the weekend (by latest FRIDAY) I'm going to rennovate TCB and it will be completely new. I'll try and keep up all the old poems but I may just start fresh.

Keep a note the website address could change and if it does I'll give you the new link HERE!

yey!

"Because I've been waiting for so long
I'll take what you say...to heart"
-Four Year Strong, live from a crime scene

Paradise In Two Words

2005-06-20T13:56:00.000-04:00

Note: Have a good summer everybody!! (this is my 25th post! yey!)

The world rotates around and around
The sun travels from west to east
And the sunlight hits the hills

Girls and boys alike
Rush through the double-doors
Into a world that comes once
in a year

This world's alias is common
It is universal and it goes by one name
This name is summer vacation

Summer Vacation:
(a noun, a verb, an adjective,
and a preposition) A time for
complete relaxation

Dive into an ocean
Swing up to the stars
And Go crazy, Be Free, and LIVE

There is no work to be done
Kids can go off to camp and
Get away from parental guidance

The world is at large...
The world is free...
The world is paradise

It comes once a year
Coming two months out of twelve
Eight weeks of freedom

The noun is universal
The verb is living large
The adjective is freedom
The preposition is now
The word is summer vacation

Birth Flies

2005-05-11T21:05:00.000-04:00

Sidenote: So I had to do a poem after a model poem for English. This is what I came up with. The poem I used to model it off of is "A Boat Is A Lever" by Ralph Burns. You can read that poem by going to poets.org

After hearing the news a baby would be born
It brought cheer and enlightenment over my body
Yet the minute of my life when feeling as completely
perfect as possible, slowly went away, and I was
Thinking of ways to prepare and if I was ready for this.
Yet deep down, secretly, I knew the time was right.
An eagle, momentarily, took off that day
The young bird, brightly colored and
Determination in his eyes, the wings
Expand outward; it’s leaving home for good
Its mind full of
Things its mother taught him to do. Along
With the knowledge of breaking away
The eagle sailed at dawn
Just like the young bird that lives in the sky
The baby will grow up one day
Birth is at first painful. But in the end
It all pays off as you hold the fragile being
Flying, freely, the young eagle will set sail
Through the air—to grow up and to
Teach its kids as it was taught
And the sky. If the sky had boundaries
Then the new born would break the limits
There is nothing more magical
Than birth

Dear God,

2005-05-08T18:37:00.000-04:00

Reason For Writing: My temple was having a poetry contest. So I decided to enter, The only requirements were that it had to deal with some sort of religious/jewish matter. So this is what I came up with:

Dear God,
Where are you God?
It seems as if sometimes you just disappear
And go on vacation
But I need you here now
Because it seems as if this world is changing...
And possibly for the worst.

This was just one anonymous letter
Found in the warehouse of prayers
It doesn't matter what age or race wrote it
Or when it was composed or by whom
But what matters is that the one who wrote it cares

Somebody wants the world to be better
Yet that somebody can't do it alone
God was not on vacation, but he was waiting
Waiting for us to rise up and take action
Waiting for somebody to care

We don't have to wait for the messiah
The world can have flaws, and blemishes
And most importantly: imperfection
But we should not let evil override
We should not let it dominate and
Take complete control

We can take a stand in this world
We can change it for the better
It doesn't matter who you are
But if you use your voice
Though just one person is not enough

Everyone must sing in the chorus
Everyone must work together
To defeat a stronger powerA community effort is needed
And all you need to do:
is raise your voice

And if we do
Peace will prevail
Evil will fail
And if we try
Peace will prevail
And Evil will fail

And if we succeed
Peace will prevail
The Jews will live on
And Evil will fail

The Artist's Picture

2004-11-25T10:16:00.000-05:00

This was written a fairly long time ago.

I dive into a potrayal of black
The canvas has nothing
Except a splash of darkness
Cloaking the moon
The sun, and the stars
Nowhere anywhere
To get through the exile...

But then light break's through
First just white
But then I see a world
The Earth that I live in
Comes alive on the sheet

A countryside view
With a small winding road
Leading to nowhere

The artist has tricked me
Fall is not dead
It is alive as it ever was
I can rejoice again

I love this land
But then gray dawns
over the scene
And I realize
Autumn is over

Revelation

2004-11-25T10:15:00.000-05:00

I hang my head in sorrow
I look up expressionless
Turning I see someone
He's heading toward me

Where am I standing?
Last thing I remember
I was going to sleep
Dream, or is it heaven?

The man speaks of a legend
Where you live forever
and never bleed

So I head in the direction
Of the way that he points
Why was I so sorry before
And now I’m filled with glee?

Maybe I have something
And don’t know what it is
Or maybe I do, maybe I know
Exactly where I am
I just don't want to be told

I hit the place where the
man told me to go
In front of me is a liquid
I figure this must be it

I reach out for it
But as soon as I grasp for it
There is nothing more
Pitch-black; nothingness

It was characteristics
Of my imagination
Why does a dream always do that?
That was my revelation

I knew I was in the dream all along
But I did not want to know
For I figure that fantasy is better then reality
But it's really the exact opposite

Prayer

2004-11-18T20:48:00.000-05:00

Dive into a world of disaster
Find where you belong
The more that you dream
The more artifical it seems

Plummet into a land of prayer
Forget where you stand
Lose you balance
Prayer will keep you alive
Prayer is communication

Welcome to this world
Wlecome to life

Listen

2004-11-18T20:28:00.000-05:00

I wrote this as I listened to my mom play a slow song on the piano.

The music is slow
Playing faintly in the background
The piano
Slow, Peaceful
Telling a story of the past
The violin starts up
Quickly, Swiftly
Telling the story of the future
Then the bass begins
Very deep, very harsh
Reminding us of reality

Memories

2004-11-13T21:37:00.000-05:00

Just A Note:

I wrote this poem back in July or August, I don't remember the exact date. I just never got around to adding it.

It was sad to see that rusty building go
It was like a trade mark of our twon
A landmark, A legend, and now its a pile
Of debree and dirt and ashes of memories
Any people lived and resided in the House
Their souls made history in the building
But now that the place is gone...So are they

They're forgotten souls of a memory

The wasn't a house, that was just its name
It's actually a resturant, est.1699
They're theme was of the Irish kind
And the menu read
300 years strong, and no signs of stopping

I said before that people lived in the House
Well it sure did seem that way at least
Some of the best moments happened there
I remember the times
Just like they were yesterday

The demolition crew is here

They said a cineplex is going up,18 theaters
I just watched in silence as they brought down the building
So I feel I should say farewell, And heres my goodbye, To my memories

Photograph

2004-11-13T21:35:00.000-05:00

Just A Note:

I wrote this a long time back sometime in July or August, I don't remember the exact date

Capturing the beauty of the moment
Making a one-of-a-kind still image of the world
Limitless possibilities he gets
Only limited with time...Not enough time

He works for the joy, not due to force
No need for pressure, no need at all

Though the moment never lasts, the image always will
But hold on to the photo because it may still fade away
Fade...Fade...Away
And when it does...The photographer will still take more
So that a memory will always live on

Hallway 7:30

2004-06-11T14:29:00.000-04:00

Hallway Seven Thirty
They’re coming
Squared—
Square windows
Square hallways
Square doors
Clock reads 6:30
6:30 AM
No ones here, Empty Hallway
Dark——— light’s off
Dark——— sun’s down
Black——— eternally
Until the lights flicker on
I hear footstep’s creak behind me
My footsteps creak behind me
Janitor’s here
The lights go on
Why am I here this early?
School starts, minutes away
Clock reads 7
7 AM
Nerves grow tense
Whistling of Janitor
Coming closer, frightening
Frightening me
Clock reads 7
7:30
7:30 AM
hallway
seven, thirty
—Jeff A Stern

Unpredictable

2004-05-28T13:55:00.000-04:00

Author's note

The last line says it all

Life is strange
Because you'll never know how
It'll end for you

Life's purpose can't be explained
How come we live here? If we
are put there. Why take us off?

Life can be loved, Life can be
hated, People can try or
they can give up

Unpredictable, Life can be to
You and to your neighbor. So
work with changes. Don't give up.

Life can be rough.

Dismayed at the Station

2004-05-27T13:47:00.000-04:00

Laying in my chair
Waiting
Days ticking down to
Freedom
Waiting
For freedom

Sitting on my chair
Anxious
Hours ticking down to
Freedom
Anxious
For freedom

Rising from my chair
Eager
Minutes ticking down to
Freedom
Eager
For freedom

Standing side my chair
Arrival
Seconds ticking down to
Freedom
Arrival
Of freedom

Door cracking open
Slowly
Seems like an hour to
Open
Slowly
Opens

Hurrying me out, now
Go
Finally now I'm free
Let me
Go
Please let me

Outside of doors
Jail
The sign said
City
Jail,
Of city

I'm a better person
Now on
'Gonna stay free'
I say
Now on
I'll say

The Storm's Mourning

2004-05-06T13:40:00.000-04:00

Author's Notes

Mourning is a double meaning, Morning and Mourning. This can be considered a sequal to the poem "SECOND VOICE"



the sun dawning o'er horizon

rain crowding sewer systems

citizens finding the world...



                           ...again



tranquil of the city

sun leaking through the sky

haze o' blue mist makes this a kodak...



                            ....moment



i have sorrow for the deaths

thankful for my living

hatrid toward...

                            

                            ....someone



Nature's present beauty

Tells us it is over

       by singing us to sleep

       singing the world to sleep

       sing me,god,...



                            ....to sleep

Smile

2004-05-02T08:59:00.000-04:00

Smile
How can you get through life without one
Laugh
How can you get through life without them
Be happy
It's the next thing to necessary

Nothing Like It

2004-05-02T08:56:00.000-04:00

None is the same
Markings that differ
Billions of them
No---not snowflakes
But wood

Worthless

2004-05-02T08:53:00.000-04:00

Inspiration

Looking out the bottom part of the window

All grass and dirt
A sidewalk centered
That's all you see
Except for a rock
One rock
White in color
Oval as the shape
A worthless, ordinary
rock
No purpose

Pavement

2004-04-29T08:49:00.000-04:00

Inspiration

None really, I saw the cover of a book (THE FLAG WE LOVE) and it had a flag in the cover, pretty simple actually.

The flag waving up ahead
Symbolizing the merciless fight for freedom
The individuality + spirituality for the flag
Wide throughout the nation;
Missing not a single inch

The stars + stripes, guiding the way
Manipulating every kind of weakness
That may exist today throught
Our democratic Road,
The only USA

Second Voice

2004-04-28T08:34:00.000-04:00

Author's Note

Even though I did not once use the word “storm” in the poem, I assume that is the word you perceived. The poem in actuality is two people speaking about the same storm. One is sharing the sound (raindrops, cars, thunder) the other sharing their feelings (ashamed). Even in the last stanza blackness is the first person’s perspective and all the other can say is ‘why?’.
The first person only hears the world around him and the other one lets you hear his heart. The poem’s general topic may throw you off but the true meaning of the poem you should behold is to listen to your heart AND the world around you; they don’t always tell you the same thing at all.




              darkness – pitch-black

               shadows –  wet

           street roads – flooding

              lightning –  death 



static + crackling of T.V. sets

                                      ashamed to live

raindrops pelting the fragile earth

                                      ashamed for the world

a loud crash of thunder crumbling land

                                      ashamed for god

cars skidding on the highway

                                      in a word

other than that all I hear is

                                      ashamed

silence...



              black day

             black night

              black sky

              ...why?

Message

2004-04-28T07:50:00.000-04:00

Hidden Meaning

Artist is a metaphor for the forest itself

The artist painted a picture
Of tree, green leaves
brown bark
The artist detailed the picture
Of trees, blue sky
yellow sun
The artist signed the picture
Of forest, two words
Help me

Bulldozer

2004-04-28T07:48:00.000-04:00

Depths of green
Darkness of green
Sharpness of green
Everything's green
With a tint
of yellow

Forest

2004-04-28T07:46:00.000-04:00




               Green --- Forest Green

 Trees + Plants --- Green

                  All green

Destruction

2004-04-27T07:42:00.000-04:00

It's peaceful + calm--
like an artist's picture

The dense cluster of trees
Thickness of leaves

I ask myself
How long till they destruct?

I ask myself
How long till it's gone?

The chirping of birds
The beauty of plants

The depth and tranquility
of that one peaceful forest

Tranquil
Tranquil
Tranquil

And in my faintest glimpse
I hear, I see
Destruction

Three Untitled Tree Poems

2004-04-09T17:46:00.000-04:00

Three poems about trees following the same format
Line 1: Doesn't rhyme with any other lines
Line 2: Rhymes with line 5
Line 3: Doesn't rhyme with any other lines
Line 4: Same thought continues into line 5; Does not rhyme with any other lines
Line 5: 2 words; Rhymes with Line 2

Swaying in the wind
Rocking in the breeze
Standing ten feet tall
Supports twenty children
with ease

Home for many creatures
Settled on with nests
Poked in and out with holes
The squirrels only take
The best

Providing shelter from the heat
A place for comer-bys to lay under
Or merchants to sell from without perspirating
One time when you should get away is when the sky's filled
With thunder

Helpless

2004-03-30T17:41:00.000-05:00

Originally Written: November 13th 2003
Additional Comment Edition

Comments

This poem expresses the common situation that happens daily: A car crash. I decided to take the poem and write it from an alternate perspective

Driving
Hit
Air-bags
Kids panicking
Car's dented
Blackness
Other driver lived
Drunken driver
He should've died
Police came
Took me away
Kids to side
Other getting hand-cuffed
I'm dead
Dead and helpless
Gone

Warfield

2004-03-30T17:33:00.000-05:00

Originally Wrote: November Eleventh 2003
REVISED COPY

Let there never be a World War III

I drag my feet along the ground
The world was changing here and there
But then there was nothing remaining
Because once the war began
It wiped the world
Into a stand-still position
Before it took the fall
Of extinction

The sovereign is gone now
No one left in this world
Just the dead bodies lieing
On the blood-covered Warfield
Not a living person
To remark on the story
Of the battle
That took place

I notice the blood trickling down one's face
I can not stand this any longer
My head hangs down and turns around
I leave the field
The world is gone now,
No way to bring it back

My Dreams

2004-03-25T10:21:00.000-05:00

Deep in a world of vast eternity
Where moss grows where it doesn’t belong
A creature strives through the forest
And it coaxes the inhabitants of the land
And leaves them where they are
For all to enjoy, for ever and ever
Could that be a human?

This can not be the Earth I know of
For there are no guns, or arrows, or spears
Everyone gets along, everyone survives
Together in happiness
Could this be possible?

But then I wake up and realize
It was only my dream
And then I ponder and ponder
For that’s when I figure out
That this is my wish for the world

Could it happen?

It Will Come Back Tomorrow

2004-03-24T17:26:00.000-05:00

Starter

The poem started with the following lines with exact corrections:

The ~~wolf~~^^coyotehowls a song of praise as the ~~moon~~ ^^sun melts into the Earth

Which were jotted down in Hebrew school.

Assistant

I wrote this poem while listening to country music by Lonestar.

-This poem was published in Young American Poetry Digest 2004
-Named one of the 200 Best Poems of 2004 by poetry.com
-Recorded in Sound of Poetry by poetry.com
-Also published in two other books by poetry.com

The sun melts into the Earth
Sizzling into the sea
Perched up on a ragged cliff
Sits the old coyote
He watches as the light dissolves,
And howls his song of praise
Telling the others
The day is done

Washed Away

2004-03-20T17:18:00.000-05:00

Meaning

Don't just throw away an idea that feels out-of-reach to you. Leave a message for someone who can reach it. Post a sign in a supermarket or other public place with your idea, ask them to bring it true, sign it anonymous. Leave it at that, the fate of your dream is in their hands.

My dreams are gone
Well almost gone
My dreams have washed away
To shore

Maybe a lonesome traveler
Will find one and pick it up
Maybe that lonesome traveler
Will turn the image true

I may not be able to
accomplish all by myself
But with the help of word of mouth
Reality may focus

So my dreams haven't sank
They floated up and
Treaded to shore
For that traveler to find

What Life Is...

2004-03-20T17:10:00.000-05:00

Dedication

To all those who wish they could trade in for a new life. Don't. Make it through the hard times, it'll get better. I know.

Life is when you fall asleep
And can think about each way
That could have made the day end better
But your stuck with how things went

Life is what you go through daily
Sleep, Eat, Work, Repeat
There's limited oppurtunity
To find that glimpse of joy

Life is who you have to face
Morning, Noon, and Night
There's only one way to leave your life
And it's hardly, at all, pleasant

Life is not to be taken wrongly
It can actually be quite fun
Just try to make the best of your's as
There's no way of escaping it

Touch

2004-03-18T17:05:00.000-05:00

Inspiration

This poem was inspired by looking out into the grey sky and the falling of snow. I imagined a man staring back at me

Staying here I wait at a neighbor's door
Hoping they'll let me stay inside
Their house tonight, For I'm freezing
Out here in the snow

I can not see anything because
I'm poor, and deaf, and blind
Three things rarely stirred together
In that awful pot of God's

I feel movement brush against my hand
And I follow with all my trust
My body lies amist a bet
I feel comfort in my future

Enlightenment

2004-03-18T16:49:00.000-05:00

Dedication

Everyone needs enlightenment in their life. It's hard to live a miserable life.




 I stare at my surroundings

                            Darkness, nothing else

 I feel around for boundries

                            Emptiness, ever more

 I listen for some movement

                             Silence, forever on

I lay down and rest
Waiting for a spark
To keep me moving

Wishing

2004-03-11T16:37:00.000-05:00

Inspiration

The events of March 11th 2004 in Madrid, Spain and the events exactly 2 1/2 years earlier which name goes without saying.

I wish
    The world just was perfect
I wish
    There were no wars just good
I wish
    Nothing bad ever happened to anybody
I wish...

    But wishes rarely turn out right