| Blanket's Stare |
[15 Mar 2009|02:18am] |
So here is a note, its been a long month
and now I have to, have to go to sleep now
its 2 a.m. and I feel like
I might have done something wrong
Carissa's Wierd</>
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| I believe in freedom. |
[05 Nov 2008|06:20pm] |
"All voting is a sort of gaming, like checkers or backgammon, with a slight moral tinge to it, a playing with right and wrong, with moral questions; and betting naturally accompanies it. The character of the voters is not staked. I cast my vote, perchance, as I think right; but I am not vitally concerned that that right should prevail. I am willing to leave it to the majority. Its obligation, therefore, never exceeds that of expediency. Even voting for the right is doing nothing for it. It is only expressing to men feebly your desire that it should prevail. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority. There is but little virtue in the action of masses of men. When the majority shall at length vote for the abolition of slavery, it will be because they are indifferent to slavery, or because there is but little slavery left to be abolished by their vote. They will then be the only slaves. Only his vote can hasten the abolition of slavery who asserts his own freedom by his vote."
Henry David Thoreau
That being said, I didn't vote yesterday. I didn't ask for a mail-in ballot, neither did I lie to the many Obama supporter's standing on city street corners asking whether or not I was registered. I merely said, no, I'm not registered, I've thought about it a lot but thanks anyway. Now that being said, I'm extremely happy Obama was elected his speech last night was inspiring and I hope he acts true to those words.
But I'm not going to get into WHY I don't vote or what problems I have with our government, or how I thought about voting until I watched the second presidential debate and was sorely disappointed. What I want to talk about is Proposition 8 in California, and what voting really means. At least, what it means to me.
When you vote you're effectively signing two agreements. Firstly you agree that what you're voting on SHOULD be voted on. That means that the last word essentially lies with the government. In this case you're saying: "This is the manner we should be deciding whether or not a couple of the same-sex should be allowed to marry". The second agreement is that you will submit to the outcome, whatever it may be. You do not have to think it's morally correct, but you will adhere to it's legal authority.
California voted Yes on Prop 8. Following my logic, that means those who voted on it agree that it should be a matter for the government to endorse and ultimately decide. They should also believe that though, they may think it's actually morally acceptable, it is indeed unlawful for same-sex couples to marry. I'm not saying that Californians did the wrong thing by voting, they were simply operating within the system put forth before them, I will admit it was the quickest, most practical way to get things done, even if it wasn't 100%. I can't expect everyone to be idealists or for human understanding to change overnight. So we get things done the best way we know how. Even if that is the case, it doesn't mean we can throw out everything else that follows when operating within that system- meaning those two agreements I listed above.
Another quote: "The government which governs least, governs best."
My simple point of view concerning Prop 8. is that the questions of whether or not two people, two Americans in this case, should be allowed to marry should NEVER have been put up to a vote. It disgusts me that it was, and it saddens me that people were so fervent about getting people to vote one way or the other, while no one stood up and said "What the eff? Why are we even voting on this in the first place?" Our country does not give rights. We ask the question of the Bill of Rights: Did we always have the right to free speech, or was it 'granted' to us. We've always had it and we always will people. Speaking of the Bill of Rights making same-sex marriage illegal strictly denies our "unalienable" right to free-speech. Another reason it should never have been on the ballot. Sheesh.
Back to freedom and voting- We are in no way bound by duty, nor obligation to vote. Yes, we have the right to vote. Yes our ancestors (well some of them anyway) fought with their lives for these rights, however it does not follow that we are obligated to use them. Since when did the existence of certain rights trump our freedom to act on those rights? Rather than a right, it's an OPPORTUNITY. They died in order to give us the ability, the choice, to vote, it's our unquestionable right to choose whether or not to vote. Just as it's anyone's right to say "Boy, considering our history it sure would be nice if you voted." But obligation does not lie in within right. I am not obligated to speak my mind whenever I disagree, or am I obligated to carry firearms. But I could if I wanted to, because I have that freedom.
Once again, I'm glad Obama was elected, I believe he and I hold more ideals than McCain, however, the change I'm looking for won't come straight from him, or the white house, or the government. It will come from US. It will be seen when questions about civil liberties are not put on a piece of paper and debated over until we're all screaming at each other. It will be decided as naturally as taking a breath. But that's because I'm an idealist and I believe in a universal truth, a greater ethic called Humanity that one day we'll all realize we're already a part of.
I just hope that day of realization will come in my lifetime.
One day morals won't have to be turned into laws in order for people to believe in them. The idealist in me is screaming that the more we do that, the farther away that day is.
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| The truth about Rosaline... |
[25 Dec 2007|04:32pm] |
"With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe."
The name who sticks needles through my hearts and eyes
for looking causes shaking and aim faults
only pain remains and the memory of dreams dreamt; so
let's rejoice
let's dance and swing
my dear Rosaline is dead and buried
with these hands I covered my love
Let Prince not fret, with the Friar's aid she is forgotten by all
protected under his holy earth she rots
my aim is once again true. for a new doe I saw
Juliet is fresh and fair, unknown to my wildest and
under the sway of cool and calm voice, she follows; so
I rejoice
I dance and swing
my dear Rosaline is dead and buried
and soon; a companion, my hands will deliver
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[09 Nov 2007|05:55pm] |
Sometimes I really miss you
Sometimes so much I pretend it hurts.
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[28 Aug 2007|02:32am] |
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Pretty freaking interesting...
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[29 Jul 2007|06:17am] |
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What the f*ck does it matter?
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[08 Jul 2007|10:41pm] |
Tears
It is like giving up,
it's like removing the pins from the calender
and leaving it splayed on the top of a folded map
it's like missing the faces and voices
it's like the eyes and mouths of people you'll never meet
you'll never touch
it's like the world is decaying in equal measures
it's like a symphony is playing in distress
to the waving of foul hands
it's like giving up
it's like leaving the world behind
creating a living death out of your mind
It is like giving up.
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| There's no way to explain it. This coil. |
[04 Jul 2007|03:43am] |
| [ |
mood |
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none, or other |
] |
Into two, we diverge
From eight fish, the foundation for a thimble, pours
heat, a fist, relaxed, mediated
so the ground can stand firm upon kneaded time,
a misappropriated wealth of even the wrong kind of passion
the fire whose flame never reaches the catch despite all,
reverberating sounds of a dying man, gasping,
demanding for air and all things abundant, in order
to fill his wicker basket he will do anything,
from eight seagulls, the crane and a snake
we make ten first hand excuses to legitimize
being carried away by our lust and instinct,
forced to empty the cardboard box of guilt and hatred
containing all we've ever felt, and deemed unnecessary.
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| Again. with some fixes. |
[04 Jun 2007|02:07am] |
| [ |
music |
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Tim Fite - In Your Hair |
] |
Untitled (2.27.07)
From here your face looks so discontent
As you barely smile I bet there’s at least a mile between your head and your heart
If I could lay some steel, a railroad to traverse
Through twin dim windows into some tundra, timid and resigned
My eyes, my hands, my mouth would travel
But why are we attracted to misery in such ways that make us despise?
Burnt and scorched in the same fire we strive to kindle
The smell of roasted desire perfume the room and she knows
The growth in your heart won’t slow as the tumor still grows
We’ll catch our death in our love of the naked self-esteem we possess
Or so it seems as the snow falls in uneven reams
You can’t hide the coal that lusts through your iron sleeve
So do your aspirations rust holes in tumors benign
Or could it be I'm just as equally resign[ed]?
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| So it does. |
[20 Mar 2007|11:57pm] |
It Lingers…
Similar to the monsters who when you were blue kept you from sleeping
Holding hostage your heart in whole and part then on from speaking
The words as dreams losing all means of regaining hope
You do your best to stay abreast: afloat under covers until waking, wincing daylight.
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| I wrote this awhile ago (in between the last poems I posted) |
[16 Mar 2007|01:23am] |
what it takes
In the dead of winter slow exhales transform strangers into angels
floating on clouds, drifting towards the ground in order to visit me
because in a fantasy I had wings large, white and protective
I could glide over the moon waves, pulling and pushing at the ocean
while flight my be a fancy it's exhausting to stay afloat
if you awake you fall, to the cold sidewalk, packed snow so hard it'd hurt
so keep it as a dream, a wish, a love, keep her as a ghost, close
because one day you'll see her in your breath and smiling sliding toward you as if on air.
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| oh cute not-happy girl in my sign language class... |
[28 Feb 2007|02:08am] |
Untitled (2.27.07)
From here your face looks so discontent
As you barely smile I bet there’s at least a mile between your head and your heart
If I could lay some steel, a railroad to traverse
Through twin dim windows into some tundra, timid and resigned
My eyes, my hands, my mouth would travel
But why are we attracted to misery in such ways that make us despise?
Burnt and scorched in the same fire we strive to kindle
The smell of roasted desire perfume the room and she knows
The growth in your heart won’t slow as the tumor still grows
We’ll catch our death in our love of the naked self-esteem we possess
Or so it seems as the snow falls on bare shoulders
You can’t hide the coal that lusts through your iron sleeve
So do your aspirations rust holes in tumors benign
Or could it be you’re just as equally resigned as her?
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[09 Feb 2007|03:33am] |
So I just got out of a 9-hour meeting.
But ya know what? I feel pretty good.
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[27 Jan 2007|06:13pm] |
Open your eyes
Uncalculated love means tilling in warm pavement groves
Heat radiating distorting sight and lives and lies
A bridge once stood where this pier now sinks so meet me in the water cool
Down deep where light’s diluted diffused in mouths of sea beasts
The same truth sitting next to you on buses destined and designed for golden roads
Heading towards green glows in the distance just as you’ve missed every chance to
Open your eyes
The sun pours in and drapes over your dusty books the shirts you used to wear
She picked them out for you in distress at the last breath of the show
The set was short even though it took 3 years for you to see, unfailing
That the girl sitting next to you is the only woman you can stand
Like gravity ‘keeps you where you are and you’ve got no choice
Moist shoes and a brisk breeze, tearing sharing its frozen voice
Harsh and coarse we’ll forgive nature for making it so difficult to
Open your eyes
While walking towards the meaning of everything and nothing’s behind you
Carefully milling over all University’s taught you over the years
Finding it hard to breath, wrapping the scarf tighter around your neck
Figurin’ out it’s all a farce; few and far between our enlightenments come
So shun the so-called soothsayers and sign-wielders their shouts and name-calling
Lower our heads to the guillotine like French aristocrats, unfairly and barbaric
They’re meant to scare you and deter you, but you’ve already made it
So open your eyes
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| ... |
[18 Dec 2006|12:35am] |
Home for the holidays
Home for the holidays and the streets are always familiar
Each curve is expected, anticipated and has been traversed before
Lawn ornaments are usually the first to welcome me
They salute my return to a house too big to hold in any kind warmth
Home for the holidays and there’s always something to get me down
Some memory or ghost haunting my brain and fingertips
Some amount of will that will never be enough to turn a head
Some word that will never describe what it feels like
Home for the holidays and my loved ones are supposed to be here
But I walk into an empty house with a dog and fish
Two more specters walk around saying my name
But I can never hear them; my ears are filled with plastic noise
Home for the holidays and everything I have is right in front of me
I’m reminded about how much means so little to me
This place, some things and these people
They’ll never be mine
Home for the holidays
And I can’t help but feel
Lost.
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| eff that noise; here's something I wrote last year |
[11 Dec 2006|01:31am] |
Act 2, Scene 2
The dream
And out of consciousness I saw myself.
I was in a desert, dragging my feet as I staggered towards you
You, an oasis of soft grass and clear spring
Tall trees, as old as the sand it seemed
An island a perfect shade of green and blue amidst a sea of pale yellow
I imagined your cool water washing the salt from my skin.
And yet, the nearer I approached
The more you evaporated, the more you appeared as
Heat off a highway
So real, so near, and yet incredibly transparent and constantly fleeting
A mirage by all standards.
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