Repose and Prose

Thoughts

Today, I woke up at 5:12 AM. I thought to myself, I feel like painting! I went on Facebook and checked my friends blog instead. But now, I'm going to paint! n_n

Yeah yeah yeah I know. Quite the dynamic little post, isn't it?

It's 4 AM So I'm Allowed To Write Nonsense

I'm falling down

Scratched film
Microscopic memories
Sweet lullabies

I'm coming home 

A ruined garden.
I spoke for the yellow flowers
"Our roots are gone."

I'm waking up

Limp rag dolls
Blood cools on the pavement.
Stones weep rain

I'm washed away.

A Night At the Theatre

Tonight, I took a trip to the theatre to see a little play called Misalliance by a Mr. George Bernard Shaw. I was accompanied (or rather, I accompanied) a few artists from the  PCH Theatre I and II classes, and we had a grand old time.

Set in England in the early 1900's, the whole play takes place in one quite eventful Saturday afternoon and is made quite enjoyable by its plethora of fascinating characters. This variety of personalities includes a feisty Polish lady-acrobat, an intelligent yet altogether too pampered aristocrat, and one supremely attractive young man known as Joey Percival. (portrayed by the phenomenally beautiful Nick Mennell)

All in all it was quite lovely, full of English accentry, delightful discoveries in plot and character, and friendship and camaraderie for us PCH thespians. I recommend this show to you, my dear readers; only pay special attention to the Polish acrobat- her performance is positively brilliant.

Here's the show information. Have a look and see if you can go! It's worth it, especially if you stick around for the second act.

http://www.laweekly.com/events/misalliance-494395/

Happy Anniversary!

I've just realized- it's R&P's 1 year and 6 day anniversary! I started this blog on March 10th with an ever-so-slightly awkward post, and here I am one year later, posting mah poems and the like.

It's amazing how much things can change in one year...

Anyway, I'll post more later! Goodbye, lovelies!

-Hannah

My Apologies

Dear Readers, 

I do apologize for my unfortunate and prolonged absence.  Time has a tricky habit of sneaking up behind you and tapping you on the shoulder. When you inevitably look behind you, Time just skips merrily along humming a tune it picked up in the 17th century, and you are left bewildered and oddly exhausted. By the time you gather your wits about you (for they tend to scamper off to climb trees, chase trains of thought, et cetera) life has moved on and you have to huff and puff quite a bit to catch up. Along the way, you drop a few things, like joyful romps with your piano, quiet cups of tea, and blog posts. Therefore, I'm sorry. And I'm back! Hoorah, hooray! Well, actually, I've got to depart, as the carriage is waiting, and neither the horses nor their driver much like standing the rain. Don't fret, though. I'll be back soon.

Very emphatically yours,

Hannah Maverick

P.S.

Pressing murmurs out of the ancient soil

Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata

Moonlight on the twisted road,
And on the waters.
He moves through silence.
A phantom, a negative image, 
A whisperer of dreams, empty space.
This life,
His life
Is repetition.
The same sad notes and hopeful crescendo
Echo in the melancholy halls
Of memory.
He hurtles through darkness.
A once-dreamer, a lost love,
A mother's promise.
The darkness makes us all the same,
The darkness breaks us all the same.

What part of him has been shattered tonight?
Can it be restored?
Can he be
Restored?

Moonlight on the crumpled smile,
And on his eyes.
He glances at heaven,
And sees his tears suspended in the sky.
He bears the largest burden of them all,
especially heavy tonight.
Stars fall from his galaxy eyes
And twinkle on the pavement.

A master storyteller, child,
And weaver of melody,
He plays his last chords
Tonight.

Christmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone! 
I hope yours is wonderful & loverly.

Cruzin' down the Lane

SO. I had the best time last night (and this morning!) with my good fraaaaaaahn Cloë (owner of the amazing blog, Swallows in the Attic). We saw Jesus Christ Superstar, which was kind of cool and kind of lame. Haha.

Some especially loverly moments:

"I thirst...I thirst, I thirst. I'm THIRSTY."

The dude with the super deep voice

Being disruptive in the fancy Hollywood restaurant

"What I NEEEEEED right now!"

Elle oh elle!

And she slept over and we spent the night talking about people at school (tsk tsk tsk, I know) and making up nicknames for random people. And in el morningo, we watched a most DEEEE-Lite Full movie:

SON OF RAMBOW

it was, quite frankly, HILAIRS and HEART-WARMING

THE END!

FIN!
FINITO!

Patterns Swam Before Her Eyes- Revised

I made some changes. You like? Or no?

I smiled as he dragged me down,
As the waters filled with light,
Under a blue violet sky.

I might have screamed.
Probably tried to escape, at first,
Like we all do. 

'Til my struggle ceased
And my fingers waved of their own accord
In the cold, cold waters. 

I watched my laughter rise to the surface,
Caught in bubbles of sound.
I wonder if you could hear them popping.

Do I let myself fall, descend, float,
Down, down, down,
Further into the electric water?

It seems I don't have a choice.

Someone's body (is it mine?), suspended in
This, a glorious half-dream,
A crystal glass of trapped time.

White gold sparks dance around,
Shooting their sharp peals of laughter
Right through my head

What will happen if I let this
Serenity
Envelop me completely?

Then,

The lungs hidden under my flesh and bone-
Enveloped by slow flame as I hit rock bottom.
My toes dig into the concrete.

I push through miles of water to break the surface
For warm, fresh air on my face,
And gold and sapphire clouds in a amethyst sky.

The sky deepens within itself just for my eyes to see.
Deep, dark purple blooms behind the clouds,
Fresh-plucked petals at the bottom of an abyss.

Looking all around for the sparks
Jewels laid out upon a velvet sky
But the sly fingers of the water plucked them away. 

So...another breath, two more,
Then I let myself fall once again,
And I join the shifting spark-tide.