Revenge is Sweet


Originally I didn’t know what to call this poem. This first stanza of this poem was swirling around in my head, but I had no idea what it was about! So I finished the poem, and when it came to deciding what the main idea of this really was, “Revenge is Sweet” was the closest I could come to.


Oh, bittersweet glory!

Are you never sorry

To inflict your vengeful wrath on one?

The deed was so sour

Cast to create another realm dour

Is the selfish soul never sorry to see what was done?

The heart’s inner core, its wounded ways,

But the truth remains, the conscience stays

Is sweet revenge always won?

What is life, then? An evil spread?

Is it heartless? Is love always conquered and dead?

A blackness, to always avoid and shun?

Lives, brotherhood with whom you grew

Be sparring to those who paid evil to you.

Are you never sorry

To inflict your lustful wrath on one?


Also, big news: today, I just launched a fashion blog! Check it out if you want:




The Reflection

My English assignment was to write a poem in the style of “My Papa’s Waltz” by Theodore Roethke. Naturally, I was pretty enthusiastic. Maybe trying to make the rhyming scene “abab” just like the original poem  was overkill, but knowing me, I love taking my experimentations with poetry to the next level! Here is my poem — I hope this will be something to please the teacher tomorrow. Fingers crossed!


My life was just ready to explore
So I start with my home
A room spilled a light on the floor
And right to it I roam

Inside I find company
She is a girl aged three or two.
I stare, and she back at me;
Chubby, lanky haired, nothing really new.

The Disney princesses were girls like me
But where is this one in her beauteous glory?
So I tell the image I don’t like what I see:
“Yup, you’re ugly! Sorry!”

I was young, I knew
It was just a first impression
But oh, what dreams those princesses rue
And turn their standards into oppression!


This Crowd of Us

pexels-photo-9816You’ve been in a crowd, right? A crowd of people, all unknown faces to you, going to class, to commute, or anywhere, really. Has anyone felt a strange loneliness in this crowd, like you’re among people, but at the same time not? I do. All the time. Then I remember that we are all interconnected by our own walks in life, insecurities, experiences … our own definition of loneliness.


Merging into the sea of masses

I am.

A wave sends an anonymous sea of souls

Where I go

Maybe stay and chat,

At least a little greeting?

Your faces are always new

Unlike the path I’ve already taken, repeating

You’re unaware

I see.

Boisterous as the tales of late

I know.

Just kidding, I thought

I’d find someone who reminds

Me of me.

I know you not

It’s true

But I as an individual

Am a drop in an ocean of us

Just as us is an ocean

In a drop of me.

Luck Runs Out


I’m finally in college. Wow. My first time, too. Hopefully as long as I’m getting enough sleep, I’ll still find time to update poems. I’m not giving up on this blog.

     This poem was based on last week’s bowling event for my birthday. Like lots of bowlers may have experienced, I would have a winning streak before all of a sudden that bowling ball stubbornly refuses to hit those pins. And you wonder if it’s just a matter of skill. Bowling feels like its outcomes are based more on luck, you see. 

So doh, of course I just had to write this.


The dog stole my scrumptious donuts a-waiting,

And on school days, my thinker never worked the long haul

Then fate decided to reveal my bowling prowess

Before it flung me four-score a-gutterball.


Is it my fault I needlessly negotiate with math?

Or school days proved me a sitting duck?

Even if genes came into play,

I blame humanity’s ups and misgivings on luck


Luck runs out,

It’s true

What’s the antidote?

I wish I knew;

I’m no genius, too,

As luck would have it.

Intuition a guessing game,

Spilled salt shakers

A mere darn shame,

We don’t win or fail

It’s only luck,

Coming out to play.


Maybe I should add that the last few lines are definitely sarcastic. Have a good night, all. 

Oh! You Rusty Old Garbage Can!


Next time a posh ad tries to sell you one of those automatic garbage cans that open and close at your convenience, don’t believe it. Why? Because these modern gadgets SUCK! 


This rusty old garbage can

I’m talking about

Costs us an

Uproar and a shout


You rusty old tin can!

I hate you!


In the kitchen

There it stands

Readily, maliciously

Taking garbage into hands


You rusty old tin can!

I loathe you!


It hungrily swallows up

The rot, asking for more

Its mouth endlessly gapes

Whirring, whining our ears sore!


You rusty old tin can!

I detest you


Every twitch and move it senses

Opening up – wide! – and to plead!

Released from within is the deepest stink

That fills up this choked-up air – oh, the weed!


You rusty old tin can!

I abhor you


It never leaves us alone

Goodness knows why

It demands our every scrap

Perfuming our kitchen after its vengeful sigh


Now you see why

I hate that rusty old tin can?


It’s a sad story

I know

But we’ll get by

Somehow, so-so.


I swear this thing was possessed. Rant over.

A Time When I Wasn’t

Courtesy of: Torley


 My family and I were driving to the midnight Easter service. On the way, I got bored, so I listened to Resonance by HOME, a song that belongs to a subgenre of music called Vaporwave. It really succeeded in reflecting the feelings I had inside. Happiness in looking forward to this celebration, but also unexplained anticipation. Maybe a little nervousness and excitement. All of that, or the nostalgic vibes the song gave out, was what gave me the idea for this poem. Now the night before Easter will never be the same again.

Bottom line, Resonance by HOME makes any experience memorable as long as you’re listening to the song in that moment. That’s the brilliance of HOME.


A wistful vagueness presides over my aura

The night was clearer than ever

Now wasn’t the time,

Now I was headed to a service sublime

But do I regret these impressions viewed from my window?



This ‘ere song from a vintage past

It crooned of simpler days,

It blasted my hopes into the freezing air

Carried me back to a time that wasn’t there

And I couldn’t help answer with a melancholic gaze


Here it is, by the way: HOME – Resonance

Now I have a challenge for you: listen to the song while doing something (Homework, cruising on the streets, daydreaming etc.)  Did it make what you were doing more memorable? Enjoyable? Tell me in the comments how it made you feel! Really dig into it!

End of Summer


Perfect timing.


The end of the season

Brought to a close

Even when there’s a reason

Summer comes and goes

Do you know your summer’s a-fading,

Do you remember?

The hot sun, the warm cooled nights waning

Into September.

School was gone, and I — carefree all along

Oh! Now my old school worries are back

As that sun sets, I’m in sad song

Oh those shining days, soon to lack

The air becomes crisp and chill

The leaves old and red

The clouds and rain will settle, they will!

But I’m snuggled warmly indoors, surely said.

Autumn is here!

Everything comes to a close!

Just remember that in every season there,

It changes as the wind blows.


Annnd that’s my poem about my favorite season back from my 8th grader self! Does anybody else anticipate the end of summer? Tell me in the comments!

Looking Back

Courtesy of: Hannah Swithinbank


I’m young, but like an old granny, I still tend to look back to the past a lot. And I dwell on it. A lot. On good times, on bad times, on amusing moments, on opportunities I missed. Unhealthy habit, really, but I’m pretty nostalgic for everything. Here’s to me breaking out of that habit with a pep-talk poem.


Present — past

Past — gone

Looking back and remembering the yesterdays

Is wrong.


Where is NOW?

Where is it?

Living in the THEN…

No, that’s not NOW, not it!


The ghost of yesterday

Is in mind

But looking back

Is the NOW you’ll never find.

Ushkovo Wonders: The Northern Forest


There’s a summer estate in Russia that holds special memories for me. It’s beautiful, peaceful, hauntingly quiet, isolated, and has the type of fresh air that I didn’t yet find in America. And the light of the day stretches into the evening, as often seen in northern regions.

It’s special because I spent the best parts of my younger childhood there. Many years later, I came back…and the surge of nostalgia was the peak of my summer. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m coming there again soon. But what I have are memories, and these precious memories I will treasure forever. Cheesy as this sounds, yeah, but I think we all have places we hold dear.


My dear friends!

Ever wonder what place in the world to me is dear?

It existed in my mind, yet so real

My love of it pains and sears.


It’s Ushkovo, the Russian northern forest

In summer, it bathes in a white night

It’s my memories that call me to it

To be there — never out of sight.


I’ve been there

In that everlasting night

Just a few latitudes left

Into a Laplandish night.


Ushokovo was always a scenic mystery

My nostalgic stays there but history

I long for it, drink it in!

My surging blood calls me there as kin!


My memories sifted and sore

I try to remember more

Atmospheric perspective

I take to heart the dearest and its core.


Tip-toeing through the forest and trees

I visualize birch and bark around me

The fresh air oh so sweet!

What I remember! What I can see!


Birds, moss, mushrooms, creek

Signify my secret glen

I could romp in that new world forever

Never worried, never sullen.


One summer house in the midst

Same as the one from forever ago

Tucked between the trees

My house is still the one I know.


Then as I snuggle in bed,

I feel a rumble, a distant whistle of the train

Sound echoes through the still night, out of sight,

Lingering miles through the trees and rain.



Is this place not real?

My love of Ushkovo, the northern wonder

Will never die, will never seal.



I love you like a homeland

You’ll remain, will you not?

Wait for me!

For you’re the one my dreams have tirelessly sought.


Internet Insanity!

Courtesy of: Kumar’s Edit

I think most of us can relate.


 I visited my cousins in Russia

One summer vacation day,

And my conclusions during my stay

Turned out to be more than I could say.


What happened?


Older cousin surfs on laptop

Younger did that and ipod games too

Sister sticks to ginormous ipad

I skim online webs in hullabaloo!


What’s happening?!


Day after day, hour after hour

We’re caught in the web of an artificial world

Eyes glued, time rued

Doesn’t it set your mind a-swirl’d?


What will happen?


Is this insanity or what?

Are we not caught in such a state?

The real world

Vanished and vanquished at such a rate?




Am I wrong?

Is the Internet what we really need?

Our modern world needs one

To play, work, surf and read.




I’d recommend the web

But not too much!

Elsa your eyes will fall out

From lethargy and such!




When I’m bored

I’m online

Though reconsidering a day in the outside sun

Is also quite fine.