Facebook Note: Unpaired Electron

Written and published to Facebook on June 28th, 2011

Author's Note: Wow. I wrote a poem about subatomic particles. This was about the extent of my understanding after having taken high school chemistry and physics, some years earlier. What we had learned about electrons' tendency to travel in pairs (at least, according to the atom model that we were using at the time) struck me as significant, as it seemed similar to the way that people were in their relationships. I also found it fitting to make an allusion to "free radicals" when explaining why it's better not to let go of loners and leave them to themselves.

If you can't tell from reading the poem itself, I was kind of despondent while I was writing it. Anyways, here it is.

I haven't been writing much of anything recently, least of all any poems.

But today, I think I need to stop sculpting for a day; it's time to allow myself to bleed. After all, Five For Fighting says that even heroes have that right. If heroes have that right, then I should have it all the more. Onwards, press onwards, and all that good stuff.

***

A little electron,

A molecular bit

Continued his course on

Perpetual orbit

He noticed that others,

Electrons like he was

Would travel together

Circling the nucleus

Facebook Note: I Have Learned the Healer's Art

Written [mostly] on February 11th, 2011, and published to Facebook on February 13th, 2011

Author's Note: You can see, right from the start, that this is about a poem I wrote. If you want to see that, scroll down for a while. But the prose that comes before it is actually of some value. So, if you're patient and read both, you may appreciate it. I know I will. :)

Hey, here is a flash of news, not as brilliant as lightning, not as new as a current event that you would see on professional news, but it is a news flash nonetheless. I finally finished writing a poem that I feel right about!

I've been having this horrible writer's block for the last two months or so. Heck, who am I kidding? You could say that I've had this block since I came home from my mission, in Salt Lake City; somehow, things just haven't flowed the same way that they used to. It's not possible - let alone easy - to pick up an old voice that doesn't belong to me anymore, to re-assume the driver's seat with the mirrors adjusted to different angles than will accommodate me now. It's like I'm picking up my sword after having been using a different weapon for two years, and all the muscle memories in my hands and arms don't feel the same anymore. I'm a stranger in a foreign world that I used to call my home.

So... do you know what kind of a breakthrough it is that I've been able to forge out a poem that satisfies me?! We have progress, captain!!! It's approaching a future lift-off! Yes, [TAB III]... because poems regularly lift off of the ground and take flight, slicing the sky like a firebrand to slash away at the skyscape...

Facebook Note: Placentero nos es trabajar - but in English!

Written and published to Facebook on November 12th, 2010

Author's Note: I feel that I have to say this a lot - what you came for is probably the poem (or, in this case, song). To find it, scroll down towards the bottom of the post. Or just read your way there. Either way is fine with me.

Facebook Note: All that I Am, I Owe to Potential

Published to Facebook on August 5th, 2008; written a few days prior

Author's Notes, June 4th, 2015: First, I would like to agree with my past self: this kid is such an egomaniac, it's not even funny. The difference is, back then I said that ironically - saying it to show that I believed the complete opposite - but today, almost seven years later, I mean it. Listening to my teenage self really annoys me. (I'm not still that conceited, am I?) I'm only leaving this post up because apparently this post was about three times as popular as most of my other old blog posts. Not that that's saying much.

I would also like to point out a few things about formatting. For one thing, I took it on myself to fix the spacing between paragraphs - which I didn't do on the original sheets of loose leaf paper - and I thought I should actually divide most of the paragraphs. It should be a little easier to read now.
As for the random numbers that you'll see throughout this, sorry about that. When I wrote this on Facebook, those numbers appeared in superscript, like this ². They were meant to point to footnotes, which are still at the bottom of the Note. I would fix the numbers, but as far as I know, the only way to make superscript numbers is by entering an Alt code, and I don't know the codes for numbers higher than three. So, you'll just have to bear with it until I think of a better solution.

And with that, I'll leave you to read.

*******

Holy cow, eh. This kid is such an ego-maniac, it's not even funny.

...Wait, actually, it is kind of funny! Ha ha ha ha ha! This idea just came to me as I was sitting in a very wonderful Chevrolet Venture [minivan]. See, here was me, writing inside of it. Hi, pueblo! Sorry; I'm still trying to work on my Spanish. But anyway, I also felt like working on my English, incidentally the name of a class I have come to dearly miss in the past 13 months. And... hang on...

I was just going to explain how this idea came to me, but all of a sudden the highway has got really bumpy; you have to love Alberta Infrastructure! Let's hope some of British Columbia is better. (Paying no attention to the fact that now I hear there's been a major rock slide, which has now completely blocked off the highway...) In the meantime, I'll pretend it's only turbulence. Now... where was I? I mean, besides bouncing along in a van determined to be in action for the rest of the said Saturday.

Facebook Note: High Level Bridge on Canada Day

Written on July 1st, 2008; published to Facebook on July 8th, 2008

Author's Note: There's a poem down there at the bottom of this Note. That's probably the part you're looking for. I just thought I'd let you know.

Ah, beauty, eh? July 1st, it's always a great day, if you're from Canada! Even more so if you are in the country at the time... well, as has always been the case with me, I was! And it was really awesome. I mean, I could tag... I forget how many of you, because you were all there. Yeah, thanks to Spencer and Brenda specifically, for giving the world another chance to re-live how insane, arbitrary, and stupid I can be. I hope that video doesn't surface at the wrong time...

But that wasn't the only thing I was doing! No, I was having a really good day on July 1st, 2008. Even if I did get lost, and have to risk my car being towed, and try to make my bike do something that any human contortionist - or even a pretzel, for that matter - would be proud of. And even if I did fall off of a wall a few times... and that sort of thing.

Facebook Note: A Song of Quiet

Written in 2007 or 2008; published to Facebook on June 25th, 2008

I'm on a roll, eh! Third note in two days... maybe I'm just doing this to distract myself from waiting for my mission call, which is already two days late. Yeah.

Well, anyway, that poem I quoted in my talk, here is the complete version of it. Maybe it can inspire you today. Or some other such funkiness. Here you go.

Perhaps, correct would be the time

To smite again the dark with rhyme

I'll call again that poet dear;

Within my mind - he yet dwells here.

...Speak, my friend, that we may be blessed.

"I hear that; it shall be done.

One more try - this should be fun.

Too rarely now, are their hearts caressed.

Facebook Note: Open Hearts Talk

Delivered on June 15th, 2008; published to Facebook on June 24th, 2008

Y'know, I have this thing for using titles with double meaning. Does that denote a touch of schizophrenia? ...Er, if nothing else that I've done has caused you to suspect just that, then I suppose I should be safe. Yeah.

So, I gave a talk in church, on June 15th, 2008. Apparently it was one that some of you listened to! Yay, I didn't put you to sleep! As for the rest of you who didn't hear me, sorry; I don't have any sleeping aids here. Not unless you read this at 11:30 or so, and try reading it without (or with, as your case may be) prescription reading glasses. That should help, or at least give you eyestrain.

Facebook Note: Freehand - Lefty's Farewell

Written in June 2007, published to Facebook on March 26th, 2008.

Author's Note: This was an assignment for my high school English class. I did actually enjoy writing this, which, as I've said elsewhere, makes this the only poem that I was assigned to write but still enjoyed.
I think that if I were to write this poem again today, I would make it sound better. But I'll leave it as is. I hope you enjoy it.

What doth ascend to this heart's mind, in this, the final of hours?

Who shall ascend to glory to find, or whom the one that cowers?

O ye craven watchmen,

Canst ye walk upon the paths I tread?

For I'd like to know you'd courage grasp, ably to walk amongst the dead.

Whilst this last road, which I last take, will I take it now alone?

Haven't ye light within thy souls, or e'en faith in flesh and bone?

'Tis true I know not where I fly...

Nay, that would be false.

For I am sure of my ending nigh,

But unsurely grope my journey's halts.

Facebook Note: [untitled poem]

Written in 2007, published to Facebook on March 26th, 2008

What manner of fiendish man

Believes it solely the weak who can

Shed precious teardrops -

Pearls from the heart?

Blind and gormless, now I say

Are those who hold their hurts at bay

And mock the souls

Whose anguish freely impart

Take this knowledge from one who knows

Whom is attacked by friends with foes

It needs strength to cry;

'Tis easier to bleed.

Violence is not strength; 'tis weak

Such holds conversely to the meek

Possessing virtue

A heart doth outlet need.

Yet I hope you know just evil floods

Or deepest wounds do not draw blood

They rather shed tears;

No mortal wound this be

Flesh be weak, and blood is chill

But valiant souls they cannot kill

Yet pain they feel

And most exceedingly

Rememberest thou the Man who gave

Our triumph over sin and grave

For though the greatest,

Our Brother too could weep

Some in sorrow, oft in love,

And some in thanks to God above

In His great flock

He cares for every sheep.

So I make the Lord my arm

I'll brave the blows, endure the harm

And if he asks it,

In turn for him I'll die

But now's the day I spread His light

And persevere to fight good fights

And as long as I can hurt

Or love, I'll cry.

- TAB III

Facebook Note: Thought Process

Written and published to Facebook on March 17th, 2008. It was my first time using Notes on Facebook. (It shows, doesn't it?) Good times.

Gosh, I had to go and work myself into a literary corner like that. Not that the title isn't open-ended or anything, but this happens to be a topic that I don't really excel at looking into.

You see, I just added this application, thinking that it would be a good outlet for all the stuff that I keep welling up inside of me, and I don't mean like your run of the mill well that Timmy keeps falling into, and Lassie ever faithfully keeps pulling him out of somehow or other. No, my "thought wells" are more like those chasms that were once created after people started to drill for oil; those empty chambers that descended deep into the earth's crust as well as millions of years, eras back through history of this earth.

I was going somewhere with this, right?