Lying to Myself

Everyone wants to love and be loved. But I personally can't see my self totally giving in to another human being. I probably will someday and that MIGHT be nice. But I have some trust issues I need to smash into smithereens first.....etc....


ahem...and please don't think I am depressed or anything with this poem. I was on the bus and I jotted it down. I should really go through and edit the damn thing. :]


Just saying...in case Mama reads this and starts asking me if anything is wrong...hahaha


Lying to Myself

By Karina Young

30 September 2009



I don’t want to be loved

I want to hurt

To feel sadness

To long for any thing

I cannot have

To know I am alive

By my rush of

Wild mental states

But living in that

One mode of utter bliss

That I am supposed to want

Isn’t living

One emotions rule

Over the mind

Over the body

Over the soul

Is a straight jacket

A dusty prison cell

So why do I want it

Why relinquish living

Why leave the sadness

The loneliness

The anger

The hate

Out of it

Why yearn to be told

That I am beautiful

What is this desire

To abandon my insecurities

And live in the arms

Of someone who will

Never know them

This rush of emotion

Just one emotion

Why do I want it

I cannot understand

And what I really

Cannot understand is

Why won’t it die

Leaving me free

and my anger

my sadness

my loneliness

my all

Still uncaring?

Close your eyes

Close your eyes
By Karina Young
28 September 2009

I try to open my eyes
To see this new world
I am living in
But it is too wild
Too blurred
Moving too fast
Moving too slow
Moving in a way
I cannot bear to watch
So I close my eyes
And there waiting for me
Are wondrous things
Things that my mind
Could never translate
Into words
This world is real
I tell my self
I can feel the heaviness
Surrounding me
The feeling that I
Am actually THERE
In the world
And not just a
Feather-light and lifeless soul
Drifting through
Every movement takes
Patience and determination
Even extending my arm
Takes attention and will
So glorious
So good
So drunk on this world
I am
Till it starts to fade
And reality comes
CRASHING down
Like heavy black drapes
A hundred yards of it
Slipping over my body
Enveloping me darkness
And forcing me to
Open my eyes and
Find a way OUT
Now my eyes are open
The world is moving again
In a way I cannot bear to watch.

Inner Workings (poem)

Inner Workings
By Karina Young
27 September 2009

Curious as a cat
I wished to know his mind
I wished to know those
Deep inner workings
So I reached to touch
And unlatched the door
Barring this knowledge from me
His face opened and before my eyes
Was a race of small beings
This is how he functioned
With these small wonders
Swarming around in his mind
Carrying out their duties
His face was a series of
Intricate webs and wires
Flickering lights
Occasionally smoke
Darkness and dust
And matter unknown to me
I stared in marvel
At this creature
This fascinating entity
Utterly in awe
At the sight of it all
And yet still uncomprehending
Still lost and unknowing
I put his mask on again
Allowing him to hide
Such a marvelous sight
Once more
Letting HIM choose what he
Wishes to and NOT to reveal
In my mind I seal the doorway
With a kiss
Hoping he doesn’t let the lock
Stay frozen and rusted
Until the end of days.

Gray

Gray
By Karina Young
23 September 2009

Tranquil
Tranquility
Tranquillized
You’re death
You’re dying
You’re dead
Taking it in
To feel
To know
How can you feel
How can you know
When the world is gray
When all you see is gray
When your soul
Starts to wither
And become gray
Gray energy
Nothing is clear
Not black and white
GRAY
A blur of gray
Solemn
Sad
And Stupid
So stupid!
Makes me want to cry out
WHY
I asked to be saved
But who needs the saving?
How can any of us be saved
When the world is so gray
The world is death
It’s dying
It’s dead
Gone and gray
Is the world
Tranquil
It’s tranquility
Being tranquillized.

Card of the Day: Two of Wands-Opportunity

Sometimes when I read my Tarot cards they can be quite spooky. Not that they reveal scary things to me (usually) but when they fit so perfectly into my current situation it spooks me!

I have just gotten done pulling my card for today after not doing so for a wee bit now. I got the Two of Wands. The picture showed two men talking and they seemed a bit lost on what to do. I had an instant “oh snap!” moment.

This card is supposed to symbolize that things are off to a good start and may indicate a period of waiting. I’m already waiting so when does it end Mr.Two of Wands, eh?

Here is the general gist of what the book says since I am horrible at explaining my views on something:
The early stages of an enterprise. The need to wait to see how matters will develop. Not much actively happening (f!). Sincere effort. Faith in the future. Partnership matters. Growth. Headed on the right direction. WAITING FOR A REPLY. Where do I go from here?

The Two of Wands is supposed to show that there will be a waiting period where I am going to feel restless (gawds!) as I prepare for change. I MIGHT (hur hur hur) feel uneasy while this is happening. I am supposed to deal with the problem energetically (how the f! do I do that? And what the bloody hell does that mean!). The card is supposed to tell me to take charge of my life and that I have the ability to overcome obstacles.

The book says it will end in success. But that confuses me because I don’t know how I want the problem to end.

Eeks! The problem with Tarot cards is when I don’t know if the first thing that pops into my head is what the cards are trying to show and help me with. Someone else read them for me. Teehee.

Oh well. We will see if the cards work out. Maybe I will do a full reading…or several. Jk!

Sleep

Sleep
By Karina Young
16 September 2009

Sleep
Who dares to sleep
When the possibility of dreaming
Is almost guaranteed
When we can’t escape truths
Revealed to us
Through distorted images
And frighteningly real emotions
Where everything is exaggerated
Though they don’t need to be
In order to open our eyes
And shut them again

Sleep
I don’t dare sleep
When I know the second
My physical eyes close
My mind opens
And out comes pouring
Truths I am not ready for
Truths I already know
Truths I don’t want to acknowledge
And I know the truth hurts
But in dreams it pierces my skin
Burns my flesh
Eats at me until I am hollow

Sleep
Who dares to sleep
When dreams can come true?

Intoxicated Muse

Wrote it while waiting for the bus. Needs work. But since when does anything I write NOT need work?

Intoxicated Muse
By Karina Young
15 September 2009

My new Muse is a mess
Though I am glad I found her
Her creativity comes in gulps
As she chugs down the recipe for inspiration
This is what she gives me
My Muse is a drunk.
When I try to fill the page before me
It all comes out like vomit on the dance floor
Covering designer shoes
Hundred dollar jeans
My Muse laughs and says
“Shows where their priorities lie”
Speaking of their wastefulness
A woman’s scream fills my ears
The vomit is seeping in
I laugh and my Muse splinters
I’ll see her again
Once I leave this place
She’s everywhere these days
Always waiting for me
With a slur to her speech
So I can’t always tell what she is saying
What she is hiding from me
Next time I try to write
It comes out like an
Intoxicated outburst
My Muse rambling on about how
She slept with your best friend
See how that smashes the page
I’ll have to pull her up and shake her
Demanding a sober response
I don’t get one
She leaves me lost
My slutty, disheveled, intoxicated Muse
A good partnership
Though my pen is aggravated
At what I force him to write
Trash
This doesn’t dampen our friendship
The paper says nothing at all
Till I fill her up to the brim
My Muse
My Intoxicated Muse
Keep singing those songs to me
Through the Karaoke mike right before closing
Keep filling my glass with watered down beer
Because you drank half my glass and couldn’t afford another
Keep eating the stale peanuts left on the table
Then leaving that salty residue in my mouth
When your kiss blows
The cleansing ocean breeze into me.

Apparently I am Blood Lusting (Dream Blog)

Every so often I have a night full of MUDEROUS dreams. Quite scary I can assure you. Usually they are sort of like two teams going against each other to see who can murder the other team first. Or something of that nature.

Last night (from what I can remember) I dreamed my family and friends were in this HUGE HUGE HUGE house and for some reason we started taking out the other inhabitants of the house (not sure who started it). I didn’t see my Mother or Alex die (thank effin’ Gawd! I always cry when I have dreams like that) and they might not have but at the very end I did see Robert with a long wooden pole through his chest. Not to worry though! He got off the floor fairly quickly after killing off the person who got him and started walking and talking and soon enough the pole disappeared (dreams can be cool like that).

I don’t remember WHO we were fighting but toward the end the only people left on my “team” were Paige and I. We were some kick ass bitches in this dream. Haha. There were more of the other “team” left than our “team” (remember these are not actual “teams” but it is easier to say they are) toward the end so we had to get crafty and split up.

Eventually…dun dun dun…the battle was won! Paige and I were victorious due to our super stealth and fighting abilities! Woot!

I woke up shortly after this dream and went back to sleep only to dream more murderous dreams. Apparently I am blood lusting. Haha.

These types of dreams are usually some of my least favorite but actually winning and not feeling scared the whole time rocked. Plus, Paige’s hair looked fantastic during the fighting and I felt superhuman and/or animal-like. Twas awesome.

Miss. Doom and Gloom

Last night I was laying in bed with my 7 year old sister trying to get her to go to sleep. But I couldn't REST! Everything seemed too loud and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was on crack or something!Though I would not know what being on crack feels like but still...

So in partial darkness I scribbled this poem out. Doesn't have any rules to constrict it really and I could have pulled it apart and made separate poems out of it if I wanted to. But I usually dislike to edit any of my poems (even if they are not very good) and so I will leave my "crackhead poem" alone. For now at least. I will probably come back in a week, or a month or maybe a year and tear the thing apart. :] teehee

Miss. Doom and Gloom
By Karina Young
13 September 2009

Doom and Gloom
My Rainbow and Sunshine
So you say
So you think
So therefore I am
What you say
What you think
What I am
Doesn’t make a difference
Doesn’t have distinction
In all my Doom and Gloom
Miss. Doom and Gloom
Oh yes, THAT’S ME!
Can’t you see it?
Must be obvious
This “sin” of mine
To dare to THINK that I am different
To long to be different
To not want to be
Plastered and Painted
Stuffed and Stuck through
Cut up and Sucked out
With a smile stitched so carefully
Across my pretty face
Not wanting to be like those
CARBON COPIES
With their tampered minds
Pretending normalcy
Pretending perfection
Though it is plain to SEE
They are
So they tell me they are
Perfect
I am told
What they tell me is what
I MUST THINK
Doom and Gloom
Brings you down
While the sunshine brings you up
Doom and Gloom are there
Like I will be there
Till the sunshine banishes me away
And I come around running back
With my rain
My cleansing rain
My sweet waters
Oh sad little Miss. Doom and Gloom
Never going to get your way.

"primal"-ness

I keep saying that we (HUMANS) are “primal” beings in the poetry and written works I am pouring out little by little recently. But is this true? Are we the FIRST or of the MOST IMPORTANCE? I can’t really say we are.

Seriously. Look what we have done to the world. (yes, maybe there are positives to not dying at 35…but still….you hopefully get what I mean).

AND humans are for the most part totally f^cked up creatures.

How the hell are we PRIMAL beings? Why do I keep wanting to write that WE are or CAN be primal? Maybe my idea of primal is totally off from the definitions I am searching through and trying to find a better answer from.

Sure, we may have primal needs or whatever you want to call them according to people far more intelligent than I am. But are WE primal?

Gottdamnit! I don’t even know what I am saying!

I guess when IIIIII think of primal I think of it as something utterly raw and basic. That’s what I want to tap into. I want to pull off all the layers of crap that are shrouding me and tap into MY CORE. The same damn core everyone else has. Or at least I think we have.

Maybe I am totally wrong?

OR MAYBE I want to tap into some sort of unifying energy that runs through EVERYTHING.

I think I can/could “tap into” some sort of energy. But nothing like I want to tap into now. Beforehand it was tapping into an energy that could be “manipulated.”

NOW I want to tap into something that will “manipulate” ME.
Something that will change ME.

Ugh ugh ugh. I can’t even get my thoughts on this straight. I keep thinking I sound like a stupid hippie! No no no no!!!!

Off to ponder some more whilst I clean-eth my room.

hippie-new-age-gaia-lovin-tastic-ness

I have been feeling a little more creative-a-ful lately. Usually this is a good thing. But at the moment the only things I am able to pull from my mind sound utterly and completely ridiculous or sound hippie and/or new age-lovin’-ish. It all sounded better in my head. But once I typed it out from the scraps of paper I scribbled it down quickly on in the garden center it sounded crappy-licious.

The poems I wrote were based on conversations I had with two people and the conversations sort of melted and blended together and made me have weird thoughts. Ha….MADE me have weird thoughts. HA! But yeah….

I have no idea what I am talking about in these poems. Hopefully I will be able to experience them someday. I do that occasionally. Write about something I don’t understand in an attempt to understand it. OR perhaps in the hopes that putting it down and out there the Universe (hippie-tastic sounding eh?) will hear me and I’ll get my “wish.”

Eh
Eh
Eh.

Here goes my first drafts. Pretend you are totally high and wearing tie dye (RHYMES!!!). I pretty much guarantee they will sound better. Haha…

Primal Nature
By Karina Young
September 8, 2009

Psych yourself out.
Tap into your primal nature.
Be the hare,
The wolf,
The owl seeking prey.
Be the bear,
The hawk,
The salmon swimming upstream.
Be that basic and instinctive creature
YOU ARE.
Throw off the worldly cloak on your shoulders.
Be raw, naked and hungry.
The BEing
YOU ARE.
Psych yourself out.
Psych yourself out.
Psych yourself out
And draw it all back in again.

Connection
By Karina Young
September 8, 2009

Connect with the world around you.
Connect with the world around you.
Connect with the world around you.
You are a primal being.
Run naked through a field.
Climb a tree.
Crouch in the brush.
Dive into an ocean.
Run your hands over the earth.
Leave your mark.
Fingerprints.
Put YOUR print on the world.
Imprint yourself on it.
Connect with it.
All around you the earth is
BUZZING.
Connect with it.
Give in.
Connect with the world around you.




Lame-ness-maximus eh? I want my old Muse back. She was a little depressing at times...but we totally understood each other. :]