Corri Elizabeth

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 18:42:34 GMT

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 02:04:31 GMT

You shouldn't give up.
Fight for yourself and
who you are. You've got
to go through the worst
times in life to get the best.

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 22:15:32 GMT

And everything just keeps on getting better :) <3

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 00:35:39 GMT

vacation for a week, no internet, no phone.

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 16:21:29 GMT

Reading livejournal updates from all of you makes me depressed.

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 18:52:51 GMT

This summer has been one of the hardest, and most rewarding, and has contained some of the happiest days of my life. And there is still another month of it.

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 21:06:11 GMT

http://www.givesmehope.com/

Everyone these days is an unhealthy combination of too serious, and too pessimistic. Why be sad, when you can be happy?

Mon, 22 Jun 2009 23:45:17 GMT

"Here I Love You"
Pablo Neruda

Here I love you
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
sometimes a sail. High, high stars.

Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.
Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.
The moon turns its clockwork dream.

The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 20:11:18 GMT

I hate fake people. If you don't like me, don't pretend to be nice to me. I'd rather you just cut yourself out of my life.

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 02:12:20 GMT

I love re-falling in love.

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 01:16:56 GMT

This summer has ALREADY been amazing<3

Fri, 05 Jun 2009 15:45:28 GMT

Everyone needs to read A Thousand Splendid Suns By: Khaled Hosseini

Thu, 28 May 2009 23:58:17 GMT

mikeyxrush: you dont take shit
mikeyxrush: like your a fighter

Sun, 24 May 2009 00:07:52 GMT

Here I am
By: Anis Mojgani

we all wanted that high school sweetheart
we wanted to be young in the 50s with meatloaves
and sock hops
and lawns, lawns so perfect they looked like Clark Gable was kissing them

we wanted to be thirteen and alive and meet a girl that was thirteen and alive
and walk with her past the grandstands, to sit and hold hands, to sit and kiss, to sit and sit, like it was something you would miss, but that never was

we once went to bed like between the bed sheets was a valley with dinosaurs still breathing
and how we capture these triceratops?
and brontosauruses?
but even they were opened up with the smoke that rose out of the homes and the corners that we once climbed through,
the streets and the footballs which we once threw,
the school desks upon which we once drew,
the windows that sat open through we once flew,
before the outside world of parking spaces and dead friends came flooding on in
and we forgot what we wanted
and we became what we become: waitresses and bartenders, city employees and temp positions, we are junkies and one kiss poems and we cry the stars
as we write our scars onto dumpsters
and electric boxes
because the only thing that we can hear is our hearts
and the only ones listening are the streets

that the blood that breaths through the letters we leave
and we dream to rise ourselves up out of these burning buildings
but instead we get buried somewhere beneath

because I know my life is like some high school kids notebook
a high school kid that shuffles back and forth between school and home
stacking the letters and the pictures too close for anyone outside of his own imagination to read
because it's through the ink that his heart beats,
that his heart breaths
and we all just wanted to write these notes

check if you like me
check if you don’t
check if you'll date me
check if you won't

because we all wanted the love songs to be true
and we did love dinosaurs once
and we wanted the stars to hold our hands,
to lick the teeth to fuck us,
but they ended up fucking us,
so let your smile twist
like my heart dancing precariously on the edge of my fingertips,
staining them like that same high school kid licking his thoughts,
using his sharpie tip writing:

"I was here / I was here mothafucka / And ain't none of y'all can write that in the spot that I just wrote it in / I’m here mothafucka and we all here mothafucka and we all mothafuckas, mothafucka / Because every breath I give brings me a second closer to the day that my mother may die / Because every breath I take takes me a second further from the moment she caught my father's eye / Because every word I carry is another stone to put into place in the foundation that I'm building / Because the days can erase something that I never saw / What all of us wanted and what none of us got /What we all had and have and what we all forgot / That we all wanted to be something / That we all became something / And it might not be the shit we once though we'd be when we were kids but something is still something and like some cats say, something is better than nothing / Feet are smarter than an engine / And dreams are stronger than thighs / And questions are the only answers we need to know that we are alive as I am when I have the mind of a child, asking why is 2 + 3 always equal to 5 ? / Where do people go to when they die? / What made the beauty of the moon? / And the beauty of the sea? / Did that beauty made you? / Did that beauty make me? / Will that make me something? / Will I be something? / Am I something?”

And the answer comes: already am, always was, and I still have time to be

Sat, 23 May 2009 17:28:39 GMT

Sat, 16 May 2009 16:02:54 GMT

"Slow Dancing on the Highway: the Trip North"
Elizabeth Hobbs

You follow close behind me,
for a thousand miles responsive to my movements.
I signal, you signal back. We will meet at the next exit.

You blow kisses, which I return.
You mouth "I love you," a message for my rearview mirror.

We do a slow tango as we change lanes in tandem,
gracefully, as though music were guiding us.
It is tighter than bodies locked in heat,
this caring, this ardent watching.

Sun, 10 May 2009 03:17:04 GMT

I can hardly bring myself to be around people anymore.

Wed, 06 May 2009 21:59:24 GMT

It comes down to this. I don't know what I want to do in college, but I know what I don't want to do.

Whatever. It'll work itself out. I know what I care about.

Tue, 05 May 2009 23:40:10 GMT

"Arrival"
Cyril Wong

During our first few dates, we
scribbled our confessions on paper,

sending them like fast-forward
letters back and forth across the table.

Then you relented and taught me sign-
language, demonstrating how "like"

is the drawing forth of an invisible
string from the centre of your chest

like a loosened thread, freed from
the constraining fabric of your body,

while "love" is the crossing of
both arms in an act of self-defence

and a warning, or simply that "X"
which marks the point of arrival

upon the very treasure map of you.

Mon, 04 May 2009 16:11:34 GMT

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 12:50:11 GMT

"detached haiku"
Brandon Scott Gorrell

everything is like
reality but only
happening sometimes

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 01:33:32 GMT

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 21:09:56 GMT

"Today, Like Every Other Day"
Jalaluddin Rumi

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 23:37:47 GMT

"We Get New Cells"
Kate Horowitz

"Every seven years," she said,
"Not all at once, of course." She was
re-testing her food allergies, sneaking
peanut butter cups past her immune system on a Saturday night.
So far the Reese's had been safe, but the imitation crab meat
on a seaweed salad had meant
five hours in the emergency room.

I thought about the hot spear of your voice
seven years ago, and how if now the sight of you
makes my chest tight,
it's probably only natural.

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 17:00:00 GMT