Poetry · Uncategorized

Procrastination = My Stupidity.

Procrastination. Why on earth does it exist?

It is simply us stopping ourselves from doing what is on our “to-do lists”

In general it all needs to be done, so why do we put it off?

It’s not like the stress of just having to do it in the first place isn’t enough…

But for heaven’s sake, it makes everything so much worse

Especially when it makes you want to curse.

I don’t understand procrastination at all

and yet it is my greatest pitfall.

So here I have had weeks to study these 7 chapters of this old book,

and the night before it is due, I have finally managed to take a look.

I am doomed, I am sure to fail

But I am the most frustrated that my stupidity is my only scapegoat bail.

I cannot blame anyone but me,

but that isn’t stopping me from being irrationally angry.

I have promised I will never wait to do what I can do today,

but then again…that is what I always say.




If I Were

If I were a pirate

with steady banter and ready wit

I would sail the open sea,

from danger and adventure never flee

I would not care to be feared

as those menacing creatures, such as Blackbeard

But, to see new lands?

To hoist the sails with these hands?

To smell the exotic and wild scents

never to be held back by a fence.

But if I were a soldier

I should wish to be bolder

I would wish to serve

allowing nothing to sever my nerve

And if I were a renegade

I would not stand for a barricade,

but I would flit around

and run where I couldn’t be found

And if I were born

A beast with horns adorned,

A monster with wings of flame

and it’s rage on its treasure to blame.

A dragon on its treasured hoard.

And when from sitting there I get bored,

I would fly to the closest star,

for me, I don’t think it would be too far.

I would then gather every sparkling gem,

and plant them till they flourish and stem.

I should watch as it grows in measure

with the brilliance of a greater treasure.

For a millennium I would sleep

my treasure and my thoughts, the only company I’d keep.

Oh but what if I could be,

a master or student of sorcery.

I’d be different from the other’s somehow

I would be kind and not cruel, I’d vow.

I would make magic so beautiful the world would cry

and even after death, I would not die.

And if I were a child again,

I would not be held back by man or woman.

I would dance in the rain

and laugh away my pain.

And I would run

and lie still in soft grass when I’m done.

But I should also like to be a fairy.

I would sing and be merry.

I’d dance in the wind on top of the leaves

and live on light that breathes.

I would laugh to see the sunrise

and even bask in the cloudy skies.

But then, it would be fun to be a mermaid

and swim in a sea of green jade.

Perhaps even explore the darkness in the deep.

I would never in fear cower and weep.

I would dive through the waves

and fall into the water that saves.

The only thing is, I am not all of these things.

Not a free pirate nor am I the richest of kings

I am not a bored dragon, or once again a child

an exploring mermaid, or a fairy of a painless mind.

I am simply a human being. I am simply me.

I’m not strong, nor wise, nor free.

But instead I read books about every adventure

live through words as it were.

But I guess i do not mind

I am with good friend, I find.

I am alright just being myself

and reading the souls on the top shelf.

I like being who I am, you know?

I will read, I will write, I will grow

I will be me,

and I will be happy.


Julie K





Poetry · Uncategorized

My Dear Old Friends

I haven’t read a real book in so long

And that feels wrong.

Sometimes I’ll look at the shelves

and reminisce about my past lives and selves.

I feel guilty that I’ve abandoned my friends

letting them become like odds and ends.

But my old dear friends have not forgotten me

for they still comfort me and let me be free.

And when I need to be reminded of what I learned

I look again through all the pages I’ve turned.

My books never let me be lonely, even when I was alone

And no matter how hurt I was they never let me be stone.

And then there were days when my anxious heart

tossed and turned like restless waves to tear me apart,

and my books gave me a sweet simple dream

when my demon’s eyes began to gleam.

Shelves and shelves of villains and heroes

fighting with their hearts, souls, swords and bows,

they taught me to take my stance,

set my sword and dance.

I am here now because they taught me to fight

I am here now because they taught me all will be alright.

I am here now because a dear friend of mine,

gave me my first book of poetry on each line.

A sister found comfort from these words

gave them to me and my thoughts flew like birds.

She saw in me what she fought herself

and gave me the first I would put on my shelf.

A small book of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry,

that little book became a founding stone of me.

The depressing stories give me hope for my own

by the depressing words my happiness has grown.

I did not understand his words at first

but in the beauty and emotion I was immersed.

Reading that poor man’s words helped me to stand,

knowing there were people out there who understand.

And to this day on my own soul’s door

are the words that strangely enough bring me hope: “Nevermore.”


Julie K

This is dedicated to my sister, teacher and friend. She saw me struggling at a young age and showed me an escape. She introduced me to the world of books and I can never thank her enough. I’m still going to say thank you though: THANKS CHUSHA!!!



Poetry · Uncategorized

My Conflict of Love and Life

It is a truth, that despite being raised in the convivial legion  I call my family

I have always sought to be on my own, to daydream, to think, and to simply be.

It is not a question of whether I love or enjoy their company,

Because they are the most treasured of people to me.

But when I am on my own, I can breathe again. I’m not like an escapee

Because I do not need to be away from them to breathe freely.

And yet, my dreams are all about being far away in an unknown city…

perhaps it is the side of me that despises stillness or as I call it being dreary,

may hap it is only because I am afraid of becoming lost in all the debris

or maybe it is that I believe that far away there is something for me

It is a cliché to think something is out there for me

but I cannot help but wonder what it could possibly be.

So could it be that I enjoy being alone, because one day I will have to be lonely?

If that is true I will hold my family dear and dearer still and love them freely

Because they will always be held in the most precious of degree.

I never want to regret hiding away from the people who love me,

However, I will enjoy being a sad, lonely soul for that is how I am free.

So I will be here and home, but, at the same time far away vicariously.

So if you see me, standing off a little ways, let me be

I stand off to daydream, think, and breathe freely

So let me pretend I’m a land logged sailor breathing in the sea

Let me imagine I’m some sort of warrior walking through my saved country.

I’m sure that has nothing to do with my calling but I find it complementary…

And don’t you worry, I know those thoughts can only be imaginary

But I think these dreams and ideas of this mind of mine are lovely.

I will do my best to not let them take me away no matter how sightly.

And bide my time here with the convivial legion I call my family.











Poetry · Uncategorized

It Has Already Begun

“So when are you gonna do something with your life?”

“Are you planning on doing anything?”

“You should work on studying on becoming a good wife.”

Yeah, I am planning on doing something.

And when I do that I’ll be planning something else.

You’re older than me, shouldn’t you get this by now?

Life moves fast and with stealth.

It weighs on your shoulders and brow.

My life started the day I was born,

I am living now and working on a goal

If you think my life is something to mourn,

that won’t bother this living soul.

You see, all I do is study, work, and play

is that not enough of a life? Should I not be proud?

Then I don’t know what you want me to say.

Yes, I don’t go out much. I’m terrified of a crowd.

Yes, I get depressed some days, and anxious on the other

Yes, I am not as far advanced as I should like to be

But I am the only person who that should bother

I don’t know if you can, but I’m gonna try to make you see

That my life began a long time ago for me,

and I have been living my life since that day

Yes there is so much that I want to be

But I refuse to wait until someday.

I will be happy with my mediocre life as you say,

because I understand that life passes by

whether you are living everyday on the edge of the highway

or whether you live in between low and high.

I am living now, and if you think I’m not,

that is your problem and not mine.

So I will work on what cannot be bought

but never stop living this life of mine.

Because, I have lived a thousand lives

and I have been a thousand people.

I’ve done things, like flying a dragon while throwing knives

I’ve climbed towers and steeples.

I have died quite a few times as well,

sometimes by old age, execution, or even a death spell.

However, it is this life that I get to decide,

and I have decided I want to live it well.

If you don’t understand this, don’t chide.

I am living different from you, and that’s okay.

Different lives make this place more interesting.

So I’ll make goals but I will live for today

So yes, I am doing something with my life. I’m living.




(I have asked myself  When will life begin? too many times. Life began years ago and all I have been doing is sitting around waiting for it to do something. Life has already started and I am going to enjoy it, because life is a frail thing. I wish you all a good day (=








Poetry · Uncategorized

Half of my Soul

Half of my soul resides where I have never been.

Half of my soul has seen things, I have never seen.

Half of my soul has done what I have never done,

And if I see it, you know where I will run.

Half of my soul is in a pain that I have never felt,

Half of my soul is battling demons that I’ve never been dealt,

Half of my soul is on the other side,

And I am here, on this side.

I cannot hold them to comfort them, no

I can only use words because I can’t go.

I hurt when you hurt, you know

I want so badly to comfort you when you’re low.

You are more to me than you think you are.

Because even though you prefer a cloud and I prefer a star,

we both live in our heads like the introverts we are.

And even though you live way too far

we still have managed to be closer than most

and that is an accomplish that we can boast.

So it is okay to tell me you’re fighting your demons

I’ll send you words that you can use as guns.

So it is okay to tell me that you are not strong enough,

I’ll pray for you till you can call your own bluff

So it is alright to break down and cry

We all do, so don’t you dare lie.

Don’t think it is better to hide from me,

I want to stand by you, don’t you see?

You don’t want to bring my mood down

You are worried that I’ll carry you and drown.

And I understand it is because you care for me as well,

but I’m not carrying you, I’m simply walking with you through hell.

I know better than to take your burdens as my own

because we both know there are burdens I must carry alone.

But I will carry mine next to you,

and we can help each other through.

Because Darling, seeing you fight strong everyday

helps me remember that we will win someday.

So let me cry with you, because you do the same

and don’t look at you tears as weakness and shame.

Tears are just as much a sign of a war as blood is

and you will slay like a warrior victorious.

You are not weak, my dear friend, you are not

A weak person would never have lifted their sword and fought.

So struggle on, dear one

and hold my hand till your was is won.



My friend, whom I have dubbed as “Penguin”, lives through so much, and hates to “burden” me with it all. I just really want her to know that she is struggling through something important and I wouldn’t deserve to be her friend if I didn’t care. She writes it off as small, but she is a conqueror and I am proud of her.







Poetry · Uncategorized

The Sun Made Me Smile

I am a dreamer of the depressing kind

I am an old soul with a romantic mind.

I am compelled to the sad gothic nights

And the mysterious and dreadful sights.

But this morning, for the first time in a while

the sun made me smile.

The sky was bright, yet the moon was still in the sky

I smiled when I thought of the reasons why.

Because my first thought was maybe, just maybe

The moon is what the sun wanted us to see.

Perhaps the sun took so long to rise

to give the moon her time to say good byes.

I normally see the moon and sun as rivals

who are competing for their own revivals.

But today I realized true love shines and ignites

the ones whose beams it falls upon and lights

their hearts, souls and it shows in their very being.

And that is what I was seeing

when I woke to leave and saw the moon

still shining five hours away from noon.

Today the sun was just as much a romantic as I,

as I imagined all of this with a contented sigh.