Blurred Lines

Andrew Salgado

National Poem Day: Favorite

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost 

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these things will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident,
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.


-Elizabeth Bishop

Constrained

Emilio Villalba

Bitter

at some point in your life,

somebody will come and

promise you such 

pretty things 

and whisper sweet words

in your ear,

so sweet you'll salivate at 

the sound of it.

you'll crave it. 

your hunger will drive you

towards it, and you'll be 

mesmerized beyond reason.

little do you know,

the aftertaste is

bitter. 

he was bitter. 

he promised me a love he never

had to give.

a future he never intended on

having

with me.

spoke empty words with selfish

intentions.

he wanted my body and not my

heart,

i was blinded by his compliments

and attention.

i soaked it in like sunlight to a flower

after a long, cold winter.

one day, though, i woke up from my

filtered reality.

i saw how he only texted me after

midnight.

how he never asked me how 

my day was.

how he called me sexy, but not

beautiful. 

the realization that he would never 

leave his girlfriend

for me.

how silly of me.

i was made the side piece.

the project he would revisit

time and again.

the toy he could play with 

without fear of 

causing damage.

how had i let it come to this.

how had i let this boy,

not a man,

play me like one of his 

video games.

take advantage of my eagerness

for love

or the softness of 

my heart.

i am a work of art. a masterpiece.

not something to be handled 

by someone with greasy fingers

and inexperience.

i am a fucking jewel,

among the rarest of stones

encased in dirt but my god

do i shine on the inside.

i am not a puzzle that can be

solved in a day.

i am full of clues that first need 

to be uncovered and then

pieced together 

in order to see the 

complete picture.

and he only cared for the surface.

-b.m.

Imperfectly Perfect

Happy First Day of March, Moths!

Wow I have really been slacking in the writing department lately! The thing with me writing poems and blog posts and such is that it isn't something that can be forced. Sometimes inspiration just comes to me and I can't stop typing, and other times I don't even know where to start. Rest assured, my creative juices are flowing today and thus: my new blog post!

Today I want to talk about imperfections...

*screams*

They're not as scary as they sound, I promise. I very briefly mentioned the idea of imperfections in my Sorry Not Sorry post a few weeks back, but I didn't go into much detail about them. Firstly, what do I mean by imperfections?
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im·per·fec·tion
/ˌimpərˈfekSH(ə)n/

noun

1. a fault, blemish, or undesirable feature
   ex. scar, birthmark, freckles, wrinkles, cellulite, stretch marks, pimples, etc. 

definition courtesy of google
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Now that we have that squared away, where am I getting at?

*What I am about to say may be shocking to some, reader discretion advised*

Ready? Imperfections are......beautiful! Yeah, I said it. And boy do I believe it to my core. I'll tell you why: there is no such thing as "perfect." Seriously, it's true. All of those Instagram models and celebrities that you see through filters and makeup are all made up of imperfections. They're humans too, they get pimples and pass gas like all of us. These imperfections make us human. They tell a story that only collects with age. How cool are birthmarks?? Not everyone has one but for those that do, they are completely unique to that person and no one else. It's almost like being a knight donned with a special medal they have to wear for the rest of their lives (that's right, if you have a birthmark you're now officially a knight). How about wrinkles? I know they've come up with everything but the kitchen sink as far as remedies for "anti-aging" against wrinkles, but what makes them so cool is that they're remnants of every movement you have ever made since being born. Those lines on each side of your lips? You got those from every time you have ever smiled. They're the mark of happiness in your life. The wrinkles on your forehead? They were made every time you were ever surprised by something and it made you raise your eyebrows. And scars? They're probably the coolest of them all. Each one undoubtedly has some interesting story to go along with it, like that one time in middle school when you climbed a tree and fell out of it, so you got this sick little scar on your back (a.k.a my mom) or that time you wrestled a crocodile in the amazon and lived to tell the tale...(okay, that one is a little farfetched, but you get the point). For all of the mothers reading, think about those stretch marks on your stomach that you absolutely dread. Do you remember how you got them? You carried a human being inside of you for nine months, that's how. You did the hardest thing anybody can do on this planet. Those stretch marks are proof of that feat, and you should be wearing them with pride for what you have accomplished. Don't even get me started on tattoos. These are chosen imperfections, or pieces of art as I see them. Some are words, some are giant tigers, but regardless they're now a part of you and your story.

Personally, I have every single "imperfection" that I have included in this post. Some I may dislike more than others, but as I said before, they are a part of me. They make me who I am. I have a "beauty mark" freckle on my left cheek that has been there since I was little, and I've come to love it because it makes me unique. I have four tattoos (to my father's dismay), a birthmark on my left wrist, a butt chin that I get from my mom, and countless others that I've acquired over my twenty years of life. I wouldn't change a single thing.

So, I challenge you to make a list of all of the "imperfections" you see. Write down how you got them or how it makes you unique or who in your family you may have gotten it from. Do this without judgement of yourself. Look at these quirks like an outsider looking in, and you have to explain it to them. What inspired you to get that tattoo? Is it sentimental or was it your 21st birthday and you had one too many drinks? No matter what it is, embrace it and be kind to yourself.

Love your imperfections, moths. xoxo

Star-Crossed Lovers

A tale of love as old as time,

Of the moonlight and sunshine.

Every morning, as she wakes,

Dawn approaches the land.

Through the sky her light breaks;

A beautiful array, so grand.

But where is the moon,

To witness her splendor?

Gone much too soon;

His grace he cannot render.

A sacrifice he must bestow,

Each and every day.

So she can shine her radiant glow;

How he longs to stay.

They meet again as daylight ends,

Such little time they are given.

What a sight as their colors blend;

Toward each other they are driven. 

But together they cannot stay,

As she finally must set.

A given order they must obey;

An end to their duet. 

His love illuminates the night sky,

As his stars come out to shine.

Surely for her, you cannot deny;

A tale of love as old as time. 

-b.m.

Intimate

the second his skin came
in contact with mine,
every particle of my being
danced with excitement,
as if awoken from a deep slumber.

the way his strong hands molded to
the curvatures of my face,
their warmth seeping through my skin
to the deepest parts of me.

his lips crashed against mine like waves
to the shore, and i could taste a hint
of desperation on his tongue, like a bear
discovering honey for the first time.

his long fingers delicately removed my
clothes. he had a gracefulness to the way
he pulled down every zipper, undid every
button. my insecurities peeled away with
every layer.

his eyes roamed every inch of my naked
body, like a blind man seeing everything
clearly for the first time. i had never felt so
vulnerable, yet unashamed in my life.

his soft, delicious lips explored me from
head to toe, as a scientist to a new world.
his tongue traced the outlines of my body
like the contours of a mountain or the
bending of a river.

our bodies entwined with one another,
unclear of where one started, and the
other ended. there was no him and i.
there was only us. 

i felt it all then. all of his emotions, and
dreams, and fears. as if they were a
reflection of my own. he had given himself
completely to me,

and i did the same.

-the moment i fell in love


b.m.

Adventure Is Out There

Hello, moths!

This is a different post from the ones I have created so far, but I have spent the better half of my Saturday watching youtube videos, and this one absolutely astounded me--I had to share! The combination of unbelievable images and hair-raising music quite literally brought me to tears from the spectacularity of it all. Life is just so amazing. The things we can capture today with video cameras absolutely astounds me. We are able to see into the most wild places on earth without interfering in any kind of way. Video footage like this inspires me to take my own camera and capture things no one else has thought to capture. To see things in a way no one else has though to see them. And my God am I determined to do that, because I can do anything I want to do with my life. I am in control. I will see the world in all its glory, and I cannot wait to do so! The Planet Earth series, among many, is what has inspired me to become a wildlife conservationist so that wildlife, as seen in this video, will continue to exist in all their raw beauty for generations to come. This is my passion. This is what I was put on this planet to do. My raison d'être.

Here's to a life of adventures, to a life of passion, moths. xoxo

Masterpiece

She watched life from
A distance,
Never getting too close.
She was met with
Indifference--
Outside the wind blows.

But within her shines a
Bright light,
Merely kept at bay.
Like stars decorating a
Dark night--
Invisible during the day.

She wonders if anyone
Truly knows,
The sparkle that she hides.
Or the hypnotic way her
Blood flows--
Like the moon to ocean tides.

Until then she has made
A vow,
A promise to her heart.
To lose herself she won't
Allow--
An eternal work of art.

-b.m.