Buee, Buee

It is time to sleep

But my mind cannot rest

Cannot slumber.

Buee, Buee

The lights are gone from this earth,

But it’s bright enough in my head

With a million people chattering,

A million stories sprinting.

Buee, Buee

The house is quiet

So I’ll sit at these keys,

And wait till sleep is in sight.

But for now,

I duck into the online world,

Clock back some hours,

And wait some more.

* Buee means hush in japanese

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Curiosity

How I came here

And where I’m going

I still cannot ponder.

Eons stretch before me

And time loses any remnant of meaning.

A probing ping in the darkness

Calling home.

Maybe my message will reach someone

Who can say?

It’s cold here

And lonely too

And if I were to reach out to my shadow,

Would it meet me halfway?

How I came here

And where I’m going

Is something

Found through an unraveling sky

Spoken through the echoey voice

Of unseen kismet.

Calling home

Calling

Calling

To tell your world

I’m alive.

If you watch your life from a distance,

Can you embody a feeling?

So that when

You feel alone,

You can yell

“Stop right there”

If all you are

Hates who

You’ve been,

Shouldn’t you get the chance

Pin point where you lost it

And take it back?

Shouldn’t it all account for something?

And if all you are

Is who you’ve been then,

What’s there left to feel?

For Kyo

Dear Me

Dear Me

Life,

Casted from the wing

Of the bluebirds illusion

Beckons.

A forest

Walled on either sides

Exhales at long last,

Murmurs in its dreams.

Dear Me

Dear Me

A hand clasped within mine

Is smiled at

From below

The dreaming maze.

Carefully,

Carefully,

Dear Bluebird

Will your illusion,

Still surreal through

Many a cascade of years,

Settle?

A hand clasped in mine

In the wading dawn,

Is all we need.

Up on my shoulders, you reach for flowers,

Unreachable on the cliff wall,

A bluebird weaves them into its wings

And rejoins

The soft, green

That it’s illusion has allowed us to grasp.

Writing

by ~ChibiStarLyte

I write to suffer
I write to feel
I write when I think
That nothing is real

I write when I’m down,
And alone in my bed
I write out the thoughts
Buzzing in my head

I write out of fear
I write out of love
I write out of heartache
To the spirits above

I write when in pain,
Sometimes for joy
I play with each word
As if it were a toy

I write some blank pages
I write on my skin
I just write all over
My soul within

Written with blood
Carved into stone
Listing my sins
So I may atone

I write in poetry
I write in prose I write when I’m nothing,
When my emptiness grows

I write to exist,
And to disappear
I write when enveloped
By nothing but fear

I write to speak,
Let my voice be heard
I write to express
Every powerful word

I write for breath
I write for me
I write so that others
Can see what I see

I write when hot tears
Cascade down my face
I write in frustration
Against life’s rapid race

I write when my heart
Is pounding in my ears,
When emotions run high,
When shedding my tears

I write to laugh
I write to cry
I write to live
I write to die

I write when I’m floating
On the lightest whim
I pour my heart out
And it’s all for him

Fore more poetry by this author: Link

Theres a rushing sound in one ear.

Maybe its my heart beating, just to see if it can.

Or my summer wings that will stretch soon enough.

A quiet rain inside me,

falls into the marble fountain,

that shimmers with the lights all around me.

My eyes are lone pools that the rain has made,

glimmering clear,

they will always be here.

Theres a rushing sound in one ear.

Do you ever worry you’re losing yourself

as you slip into the sea?

As its soft echoing whisper, questions

who you’re meant to be?

Do summer gales unbalance you

with the sweetest contact?

Why do the rocks surrounding me press their shadows like shackles,

so that I cannot unfold my wings?

If there is a reason to be here,

then is it right to mourn the loss of time?

Maybe if these questions starve for long enough,

I can stretch my wings

leap from this rock

and fly.

For stitch

Hurry now, hurry now

the clock is ticking

over head ivory moonlight no longer bathes us

you are terribly late.

The fairy tale is drawing to a close,

so hold me close for a moment longer,

before sliding away,

into silky climbing ivy.

Hurry now, hurry now,

as you clatter through forgotten cobbles,

your glass slipper shatters,

your veil catches in a pricker

rain washes your make up away.

Hurry now hurry now,

to the beat of a ticking clock,

dance in a slow circle,

in an ash of fallen leaves,

that rustle with your breath.

Dancing in the forest,

a wide arch

open your eyes.

Your are beautiful when other think not.

Singing in silence is not a sin.

Hurry now,

hurry now,

cricket conductors do not like to be kept waiting…

A michevious function

a dashing smile tosses

to me from you

back and forth.

13

and me

a blurry dream

of what could be

becomes real for me.

So, tonight I was fishing around Keplers bookstore, since the book I’d been hoping to acquire came into stock the next day, I decided to look for the Manga section. Though it was pretty limited,  I immediately found a familiar one. “Om my gosh! It’s inuyasha!” I called, swiping it from the shelf. I’d seen the entire anime, and absolutely adored the characters and the plotline, so this was awesome! To finally be able to find it in book form! They only had two volumes: 6 and 7, so I began reading volume 6. Wow. I remembered the time spent watching inuyasha. I’d first been introduced to it in kindergarten by Mackenzie, my BFF, but I don’t think I understood the plot at all(the storyline is complex, and the episodes I saw where random ones from whenever I’d come over, so each viewing of it was like starting a new story that I never finished.) This year, I decided to actually watch it from start to the last episode way off in the distance. About 180+ episodes! My first anime! And, unlike when I was little, I watched it in Japanese, with english subs. That is where I picked up my first phrases in Japanese.

So, anyway, finding that manga tonight was like opening up a uneplored door to a loved part of my childhood. The plot is so creative, interesting, and above all, full of twists. And the characters! They all have such distinct personality! Shippo, the baby fox demon is sort of a cute little crybaby. Miroku is a very “weird” monk. Inuyasha ia loner, accepts-no-help sort of fighter.

And so, Inuyasha as a whole, is truly amazing.