Especially for Youth: Slam Poem

I sat down next to the man on the airplane.
Thinking me a little insane for sitting next to him,
He turned and gave a cordial smile while relocating his briefcase.
“Where you headed?” he asked, masking his frustration at having to share foot space.
“No place,” I shrugged, “well no place big. Rexburg, Idaho to be exact, in fact I’m going there to be a church camp counselor called Especially For Youth.
Well, in truth he didn’t really care, but rather than stare at the back of a seat for three hours, he carefully caressed his handle-bar mustache as he asked another question.
“For the summer? That’s a bummer,” he said. “With the way that kids are these days, they’re a maze to understand, let alone teach or preach. They’re just beach bums, what a way to waste your time.
I like to think that I’m a nice girl, but the moment was prime as we took off. I coughed once, took a drink, then decided to address his skeptical scoff:

Especially for Youth
Takes a fourteen year old girl who has never seen in the mirror correctly
That every freckle on her face is known
And alone is word that never should describe her
As the world screams of things that she should be
She comes to see that her beauty is something that goes so deep
The only thing deeper is the love of her Elder brother and friend.
She bows at his feet, and takes that leap of faith to make Him her anchor.
And he will save her before she ever drowns in tears of heartache or hurt again.

Especially for Youth
makes young men out of seventeen year old boys
That were concentrated on the noise of video games and other pointless toys
And teaches them why it’s okay to cry when you feel the spirit
That the things with the greatest merit are the ones
That the worldly macho will never get.
They really are soldiers and they leave ready to fight
With their sight fixed on the rock in which they
Carry always like a pebble in their pocket
That is burned in their hearts.

Especially for Youth
Makes disciples out of young adults
Resulting from lack of sleep, keeping constant excitement, and love
Tied together in moments of testifying and trying
To make a difference in just one life.
If they find a wife it’s just a bonus.
You see, for us, helping a teenager realize
Who they are is the royal child of Heavenly King
Who made each star, but knows who they are
Even in his far off home He can touch them
Heal them, and with His finger He makes them light
Like Mahonri’s sixteen stones, and the places them in boats of hope
To carry His light to the world.

So you see, Sir, I did not waste my summer.
It is filled with friends, and emotions that transcend even the words I could tell you.
Hundreds of people will leave Rexburg, Idaho with light to show
And you know that nothing can compare with a summer where
You know like, Elphaba you have been changed for the Good.
So I will be an All-American Reject and move along,
But as I’m placed back into the stream
I might just be another stone, but I am not alone.
So the world can crumble around me, but I will be an example
To those around me, and help them see they are a child of God too.
So thank you, for your concern, but if you came with me Rexburg you would learn
That once you leave, you will never be the same.
~08.16.09

Avon's Swan

The gray-green ripples danced in welcome
I crossed the ancient bridge and sat
I waited for mind and flower to blossom
on personal bladed welcome mat

I craned my neck to see a swan
Wondered if white or gray
Was the sweet swan of the avon
Her feathers a mix of ink and clay

I spied her by the leaning willow
Neck long and planned with grace
Unmoving with places to go
I knew the lines in her face

What are the poetic lines I draw?
Will they linger or fade away?
Like a swan on a running stream
Will only written remnants be conveyed?

She, dressed in robes of secrets
Fanned tablets written upon with quill
Followed by famous blankets
Greatness penned upon by great Will

Who is this swan that swims alone?
Breaths a fresher spray?
Could she write songs by floating in past’s foam
Will frailty be displayed?

Unanswered all questions left behind
In Avon for grayer, dark, day
The wordsmith, the swan, and I are gone
To find a better way.

~DaLe



(This was written while sitting upon the banks of the Avon--William Shakespeare's Birthplace--as the sun set one evening.)

One by Two; Two by One

I wrote this earlier this summer, but last night's rain made me think of it.


I sat and listened to the patterned rain
until it learned my mind,
playing on the solitude, laughing
at my sheltered quiet.

Without thought, I ran from disheveled room,
heedlessly flung open my door.
Without pause, I leaped,
Embracing drizzling pockets of heaven.

I left my sloppy socks like shells
on the pavement, the sound gripping me to swirl
up and down with each gust,
the dance forming in my lungs

I stopped, the movement inward turning.
I lay on the pavement like a mountain
unmovable, but reaching upward
with my palms flat on spiritual gray.

In Noah’s honor, I believed the rain,
allowed myself to drown in its wrath.
Then watched my rainbow past float
in the gutter, disappearing in arced grates.

With closed sight concentration,
I memorized each drop’s bond
inside the creases in my face—
Added my own, then, to The Fall.

April rain fused to my skin,
I returned to the world of dry,
But forever felt, somehow, foreign
I had become rain dancer.

~DaLe 04.15.09

Boat Fishing

You caught my eye

Though I thought it useless to try

I still smiled when you passed my way.

The corner of my eye kept mental notes

That only heightened secrets hopes

That your eye would catch me someday

Then once your eye found mine

I tried hard to read the facial signs

As I floated in that generous river blue

Your words were like fishing twine

Reeling me in line by line

Hooking my heart inside a warm slough

I’d like to laugh down this river with you

See where it takes us to

When we’ve laughed so hard we get sore

That’s what serious conversation will be for

Each meandering in our stream of happiness

I’d like to grow down this river with you

Life can burn me a time or two

‘Cause really those burns are like skipping rocks

Giving depth to backward-twisted clocks

Being with you only brings happiness

I’ll ride this life-boat along your side

And promise come low or high tide

To sit by you and equally row

If you give me your best, I’ll give you mine

And with our efforts combined

Could come more happiness…

If we don’t try,

We’ll ever know

~DaLe 07.21.09

Motion Sickness

I am still
But mile markers flee
Nausea chases each counted pole
Through barren brush and dirt

I find you
Nestled in fleeing sage
Full of life, but dead to me
Like yellow asphalt stripes
Counting you just hurts

All roads led to you
I rode them with tight shut sight
Then you shut yours:
Crashing was inevitable

Now watch the road spill,
Fold beneath glazed eyes,
Melt through heightened eyes and lips
Balance tipping sunburned fence posts

You held my heart
Urging return with tender touch
I ignored stomach’s sick pull
Raced into the warmth of Provo rain

I force mind to sleep, heart to numb
Time nods off, drifts to the shoulder
Each excused escape brings life
From you; from motion

Rusty red car halts for you
You’ve moved; making me take stairs.
All I am is a borrowed book --unfinished,
I return it with the plastic bag
I used when motion sick.

~DaLe 6.15.09

Composed a Few Feet from Tintern's Walls

The Sylvan Wye called to me few short years ago
And here I sit in Tintern’s walls,
Watching wind-rippled grass.
She called me here; here I sit, obedient pilgrim of deeper life
For since I first felt soul’s answer to beckoning Welsh breeze,
I could not rest ,urged forward path by path

Those beauteous words
In each stretching silence, have not given to me
As is poetry to a deaf man’s ear:
But frequent in darkening twilight, and in the dark
Of soul and conscience, I have read from them
In days of anguish, spiritual songs,
Heard in the soul, and sung in deeper core,
And sounding even into deepest heart,
In quiet healing.

By the swell of that pure love, this abbey’s carpet
dances daisies into once floors of stone
I had given my soul to the green hues when I heard of her,
The supreme and Godly nature.
Learned slowly the paths she and he in duet make for me
Lead to much brighter fields than natural eye chooses

The only lasting lives within these falling walls are doves
Nesting in forgotten corners, cooing stone into silence,
Outliving even the daisy’s presence there.

~DaLe 5.29.09

Corndogs and Crepes: A Family Memoir

For a project I had to do something related to my family. I decided to create a compilation of poems for each member of my family. We are as crazy and corny as any other family, but we also love a lot, and there are not people I love more in the world. The are my very best friends, and have taught me more about life, and how to live it successfully than any other people. Some of these are ridiculous, some are serious, but each is dedicated to the people who understand and know me better than I know myself.


Apron Knots

For My Mother

The sun begins to set
Time is drawing near
And mother ties her apron strings

She takes her scattered brood
And pulls them closer to her
Tied together with apron strings

There have been adolescent heartaches
And life-defining soul stretches
She closes the wounds with apron strings

Moments of remembered laughter
Stories of ridiculous remembrances
Highlighted with her apron strings

Quiet conversations of faith
Silent scenes of spiritual growth
Each delicately laced with apron strings

As messy faces morph into messy lives
And each child moves messily into independence
They are still held by apron strings

For no simple evening meal
Or pile of dishes cleaned
Can express the love found
In a mother’s apron strings.

Freckled Match Game

For my Father

There lies an unexplainable connection
Between father and little girl
Something about her bouncing pig tails
Softens his hard lines, makes him warm
Searing an eternal bond between the two

My father never was a stern or stiff man
God-given gentleness wrapped in his veins
Yet a special gleam reached his eyes
When, with my matching pair, I perchance
Would gaze into his, seeking, imploring

He gave me his gray-green eyes, freckles
That dash the pupil and spill onto fair cheeks
Framing a mouth full of giant grins and giggle
As he held me, speaking stories to send
those stolen eyes into sleep.

He placed within me a deeper set of eyes
One that learned to see what only heart hears
Moments of his kneeling pleas were caught
As he spoke on my little girl behalf
Hoping that his hands could reflect divinity

Years changed faces, giving his wrinkles
Filling mine with adolescent life, yet,
Matching eyes have remained, sustained
Over miled distance, and adulthood’s mountains,
His words becoming sage hues in defining times

Though change may come, and days take me far
Words from Dad never falter, each thought
Solidifies through mutable moments
That some things never change
Like a daddy and his little girl

Life’s Feature Presentation

For My Irish Twin

You came first
Like the chicken, not the egg
I came second
Like a surprisingly good sequel

And, rather like Lucy and Ethel,
We started out on our journey of mishaps.
Every hilarious episode taught us life,
Every happy ending kept us returning,
Begging life to give us more.

Like Eric and Cory that we religiously watched,
Setting aside Friday as our beloved day of TGIF,
High school was years of struggle for us,
The year between us seeming like a wall,
Yet, it’s common knowledge
That the later college seasons
Trumped all the rest with laughter,
But with deeper love as well.

As different as Meg and Jo March we stand,
Each grasping different essentials of life,
Yet the bonds of sisterhood stand rezealiant
Making little women out of both of us,
And life is limitless before us,
As our personal concord grapes
Make life’s juice deep, make it sweet.

Rivaling the ribbon-haired pair
Of Emma Woodhouse and Harriet Smith,
We’ve experienced the ridiculousness of society
While all the while embroidering our love
And laughing at failed matches made.
Our friendship being deeper than
Dances and butterfly catching.

We are the Aubin and Dani twosome,
As original and timeless as the pairs we watch
With our own faults carefully written in
By an all-knowing Father, who sees
Who knows the bigger picture,
And when this scene is over, and the lights dim
You will still be known as my big sister,
My opposite, yet perfect half,
My sister, and friend.

The Height of Brotherhood

For Jonathan

By mere genetics
We are nothing alike
your long legged shadows
stretch farther than mine
I may have more years than you
But you more height
Together we have memories
That etch friendship into smiles
Founded in our family ties.
Through years of struggle
You were there when I cried
You had my embrace
when your head hung down
and suddenly, you’re a man
tall enough to take on the world,
but I’m half a world away
wishing I could help you hurdle adolescence.
Yet, as we both mature,
So does love and laughter,
And the formation of family
Turns into deep canyons of caring
That assure the years will bring more
Of the laughter we have loved.
Jonathan, you are the answer
To my request from God for a brother,
And the request from my heart
For a friend.

Happiness in a Cup

For Samuel

I have a history of liking the bittersweet
Grapefruit juice, and Sour Patch Kids are my favorite
Somehow the tangy juice becomes an addiction
Shuddering my taste buds in pure delight.
By all accounts, I should despise the taste
But instead I love it.

Our love has been of the likings of bittersweet
We have argued, but loved just as deeply.
Our similar care for fantasy making us similar
Our bitter differences pulling as apart.
Yet, like my addiction to the sour,
I am dependant on friendship with you,
Because the sweet had made
Every bitter moment
Nothing compared to the joy
Of having you as a brother
As a protector.
Your hugs are sweetest
Your sincerity tastes the best.
And so, when favorite things are considered
So should you be, Samuel, my dear friend.

Filling Smaller Shoes

For Christan

Heroes stand out in the time of days,
Each changing earth in a particular way,
But earth was not prepared when you entered her
Your clear blue eyes made Heaven stir

Your footsteps of friendship draw others near
And every single soul feels important and dear
For your smile and laughter is genuine, bright
Your flaxen hair reflects your inner light.

It is no question who my role model has become
Like the pink tinted, summer cherry blossom
You sprinkle my world with rosy love
You, my little sister, are an angel from above.

~DaLe 04.09.09