mena's poem

she was a nice girl, a fine girl
nothing too special in her speech
nothing too special in her dress
she was just there.

her words we not particularly profound
nothing she said tugged at my heart
her words were not romantic, sex-crazed, deep
she preferred haiku and the funny.

and so when i passed her each day
none of her words came to mind
only that one poem on cherry pie.
cherry pie.

i saw her eating those cherry pies.
mouthfuls and bowlfuls of cherry pies.
i also saw the pasta, oily salami, porridge
and salad with slippery mounts of ranch white.

this whole time i criticized her
picked her apart! piece by piece because of her mundane disposition.
because she was pretty.
because i didn't think she belonged in a room of
deep and depraved poets
because nothing grabbed me about her.
and now cherry pies are knives and needles
and cherry pie poems are mirrors and roundabout reflections
spitting images of sickness and self-loathe and five minutes after you eat regurgitation
because she's not reaaaaaally sick, not doctor sick, but she is sick, because her soul is sick and all she wantedwas for me
to listen
and not just listen but to really read in between the lines of each fragment or phrase or stanza!
she was counting on me to be bright enough, poetic and deep enough to realize that cherry pies are NOT just cherry pies
and pretending to blend in, to be mundane, to be something normal and not extraordinary or special just meant that this one girl, this one thin, sad, squinty-eyed girl in my reading and writing poems course was more complex, and less obviously complicated than I could have ever
imagined.

She was more than I could have ever imagined.

mena.

My ambition

I remember my ambition as a young girl. I can taste it even now. All my thoughts, motivations, and plans were centered on achieving greatness. I was involved in every damn thing. From student council to special interest groups, I was there. And, I wasn't just there; I was a leader.

Time has gone by. I'm in college now. I'm working my ass off. I have a job. But, I also have all of these responsibilities. And these things crowd my mind and take up all of my time. Sometimes I question my purpose. But, I keep my ambition in check. It is there. It is my companion. Every time I feel like quitting or throwing in the towel, ambition reminds me that I must persist and persevere.

My path is not sketched in gold. My achievements must be solely won by myself, because nobody can fill my shoes or step into my clothes. Such burden it is, but a relief because I know I have a purpose to fulfill.

Even when it hurts to be here. Even when my mind is consumed by work, knowledge, and pressure to succeed. Even when my eyes hurt to stay open. My ambition kicks in. There is too much to gain for me not to give 150%.

The infinite quality of dreams

My great-grandmother has lived a long life.

It always seems like time is running out. We never have enough time for X, Y, and Z, because we are too occupied with A, B, and C. And, even at the end of her life, I don't know if she will ever get to those X's, Y's, and Z's.

My great-grandmother has done a lot with her life. She has traveled through the rural villages of Mexico, eaten in Greek cafes, and voyaged countless times back and forth from the Hawaiian Islands. She has traveled the globe. She has sailed the seas. She has driven in a Model T Ford and a modern-day Mercedes.

All these beautiful things. They often take a lifetime to come together. Even then, they might not be all of what you most secretly desire.

People want, and want right away. But, we can't always get those things right away. We want riches and fame in our lifetime. We want it tomorrow. We battle away hard-earned cash in hopes for tomorrow or next week.

But Brother, it's going to take longer than tomorrow to see the beauty. And Sister, it's going to take more than a dollar to taste it too. It's going to take a lifetime to get to that point.

And even when you draw your last breath, you might not get what you wanted 50 years ago.

You might get it later. All the fame you once desired can peep its head out in the form of glory. We might find your name in historical texts for the next 500 years. And, that necklace that you bought for $10 may be worth $149,450 in 100 years--a lucky find for your great-grand baby.

My great-grandmother may never see her X's, Y's, and Z's, but I just might. And my daughter just might. A dream, an idea, lives longer than we do. Some dreams last forever and can collectively melt into everyone's hopes and desires. And, someone, yes someone, might be around to enjoy it.

Figure it out

I am seriously lacking motivation. This cold has really got me in a slum. Usually the cold sting on my cheeks enlivens me. But, lately I'm just frigid. My body doesn't feel right. My mind doesn't feel right. The music isn't grabbing me like it should. It, life, just feels so heavy and pointless. Money is okay. I can't complain because I am eating. But, food doesn't taste at all like it did before. My bed doesn't make me feel like it once did. I can't fall asleep right when I hit the sheets. I just want to leave. But, I've made this commitment. A four year commitment. The thought of being here for 2+ years is driving me insane. I need something good to happen to me. Something to make me see what this is all worth. Of course I know the value of my education. But, it's not all about prestige. I want to meet new people. People who inspire me to be a better version of myself. The one and only thing that I can truly say has never disappointed me in the time I have been here is my girlfriend. She holds me down. She knows I'm not 100% happy. But, she's willing to stick by me until I figure this situation out. I need to figure this out.