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Sunday, April 28, 2013

I'd Be A Cactus Flower


If you were a bat
I would be a cactus flower
You would shower me with your dark body
Searching for my nectar
I would be the crime
And you the inspector 
Your velocity would only be one vector
Propelling you towards my form
Because we were born to be together
And the fact that my petals are a bland white
Would not sever
The bond that stands between you and my hand
Because your only vision is a sonogram
The form of my being is the only thing your seeing
And we only meet at night so we must be dreaming
For indeed
My imagination has been scheming 
For it’s left me beaming when there is nothing but darkness
And I must confess that you possess 
The power to pollinate me
To regenerate me 
Into more than I thought I could be
You create hybrids
New varieties
Of the angiosperm
I’ve only learned comes in one model
But this vision is just a vision
It’s fabricated and hollow
Because you are not a bat.
You are a boy.
A stupid, stupid boy
And you go for the dicots
That you think are hot 
Because their patterns are standard
And I am a monocot
I’m scattered with intangible dreams
And my xylem and phloem are not arranged in careful seams
So you ignore colorless me
And choose girls with more vibrant pedals
But little do you understand
That the girl who grasps your hand
The one who you want in your pants
Is one of those pitcher plants
She grows from acidic soil
And will supplement her lack of nutrients through putting you through toil
But you don’t let the truth boil over
Because you chose her over me
But I am herbaceous
She is woody
She’s more stable
But I am able to photosynthesize
To take the sunlight and transform it to energy right before your eyes
And most guys despise that fact that I have a knack at taking each smack and throwing them back
That I’m not afraid to retract the thoughts I spat even if that doesn’t attract more visitors to my pistil
Because she is glass and I am crystal
We might look the same
Break the same
Both seem tame
But one day you will know my name
And you will gain value just by association
Because I come from a different nation
Where there is a celebration of deliberation
Of girls who think and speak their mind
And I wish I could find you as a bat
Because if that was true
I’d be a cactus flower for you
But I am me
And you are you
And the only thing sane to do is to remain this way
Not caged but in a zoo.


In honor of my AP Biology teacher, Ms. Steinberg, and our 7th period, misbehaved class.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Ph.D In Broetry

I’ve reached that age and stage
Where everyone I encounter wants to know
We’re I’ll go
And what I’ll study
I used to say
That I'll be a page
And receive a degree in writing creatively
But life has molded my ambitions like putty
Everything has gone funny
And this might not be Philadelphia but it's always sunny
Because I now want a Ph.D in Broetry
The art of making boys flow to me
By simply stirring up rhymes
Understanding the perfect times
To be authentic and a tease
To bring them to their knees
Roll over and stay
--But Ariel, hey
Boys aren’t dogs
You’re right, they’re actually hogs
Because we’ve established men are pigs a long time ago
But maybe they wouldn't be after my degree
I’d know how to communicate the words of my heart
When to stop and start
Like every conversation was sent through a telegram
And damn
Before my doctorate
I’d need a bachelors in international relations
How lovers from different nations
Sustain their affections through generations
By mixing deliberation and temptation
And maybe I want to be a medical sensation
But I don’t want to go premed in biology or ecology
So I’d get my B.S. in apology
Understand how to proclaim my regret and shame
Restore my name
And the flame of friendship
When what I did wasn’t what I meant
And my tuition would be two cents
Simply to express my distress over a mess of events
But I’d never pay off my debt
Because I’d only ever get a penny for my thoughts
And my college party shots will be
The augmented dots of impressionist paintings
My priority would be joining a sorority
Called Alpha Delta Why
Why do I feel compelled to swell myself with others by my side?
And I’d get a free ride
Inside the trails across my professors hearts
Afterwards I’d earn my bachelors of farts
Because I’d spend too much of myself thrusting darts
At targets that are too sweet
And the only thing the dining hall serves is tarts
I sound contrived and confused
Scattered and sent
Because I don’t know where my aspirations went
I’ve spent so much time staring at the same dream
That I’m not sure if it’s mine any more
When I grasp the knob of this open door
I’ve entered an era of terror
Do I tear her to pieces
Because all I know is how to put my world back together again
I can’t extend myself into the realm of creation
Because I am ordinary
I am ordinary
I am extra ordinary
I am extraordinary
I’d tell the kitchen staff that I was lactose intolerant because I’ve never had dairy
No, that's a typo
I meant a diary
Because I never believed that anyone would glimpse back and admire me
Or that anyone would even hire me
I’ve already had these starving poet business cards made out and all
I’ve chosen a spot for my box by some rock by the mall
And I can’t do anything but stall my own success
Because how do you address
That you possess a destiny you never even thought to pine over
So all I’ve done is whine over
How I can’t pick a fate
And that it’d be great
For me
If I got a Ph.D in Broetry
Because that seems less unknown to me
That my new unreal reality.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Instead of Hello

He doesn’t just shoot me a glance and a smile anymore
Today my acknowledgement was the extension of his index finger and thumb
In the shape of a gun
Followed by a wink.
I asked him if we were in a ‘80s movie.
He asked me how I would like to be greeted.

I want you to kiss me on the nose and then on the lips as I laugh
To handcuff your left hand to my ankle so you’d be in the perfect position to sweep me off my feet
Or reach through the ceiling, lasso the sun, stare at us both for a moment
And conclude I am the brightest star in the solar system
To trace over the lines on my hands as if they are roads and find yourself driving
Punch three boys near you, even if they weren’t looking at me,
Because you know that there’s a 40% chance one of them was, or at least thinking about doing so
Say I’m your Juliet, that you’d die to be with me
Also that you’re not my Romeo—you’d never leave me, and you'd at least check my pulse first
Strip down because you wanted to know if you could feel any more naked around me
Hold me in your arms and rock me to sleep
Call me by your name
For we are one vessel,
Conjoined by earth and time
You only feel yourself around me
Undress me with your eyes then kiss me on the wrist
Plant a tree wherever we are just so you can carve our initials in its core
Tell me that you were only with your girlfriend because sometimes when you hold the knockoff tight enough she feels like the real thing
Say
Blessed is the One Who Makes the Evening Fall
Because in the darkness you are left alone with your thoughts and the image of me—
When the distractions are dead, we feel alive
Polish my heart to avoid stray fingerprints
Then press your hand between my atria
Forever making it a keyhole that you can open with a single touch

I want you to prove to me that you love me
To say all the unspoken words
And binding promises
Do all the things that unravel your kind
I want you to wander around with a bucket
So on the rare occasion we cross paths
You could hold it over our heads as you kissed me
So our lips would always met in the rain.

Yes, all of it.
Yes, in the middle of the hallway.
Yes, wedged between periods and people.
Because I am a hopeful romantic
Who believes that happy endings belong somewhere better than on a massage table
And that reality is only as strong as you let it be.

“I think you like the way I say hello.”
You say
You’re right.
I love everything you do.
It’s the acts you don’t that pierce my chest causing my lungs to deflate
And rib cage to shatter like fine china.
Maybe we should just come up with a handshake.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Size Too


She looked at me with condemning eyes
As I approached her with my crashing thighs
From the other sides of the dress store

What size?
She said
The question we curvy girls all dread
The one that has been wandering through my head
Ever since the thread of prom dresses started on Facebook

Two.
Her head shook.
It was one of those awkward silences
The kind that you think you can only discover at waiting rooms
At clinics
Or after he tells you he loves you
And you can’t mutter out
Or stutter out
The words “me too”
She looks me up and down
Like she’s Nicolas Cage
Who’s found a new tasteless film to star in
She says
Sorry sweetheart
You’re not that thin
And with a grin she hands me a size twelve
Saying this is what you’ll fit in

Big mistake
It took only a moment for me to make up my mind
To kick her bony behind

I told you I’m a size two
And that’s the truth
I’m a size too powerful to fit your standards
Too chill to be wound up like lanyards
Too smart to have hair this light
And too fast not to be in flight
Too beautiful not to shatter your sight
Too mourning the death of girls who look like sex
Because they have extra padding underneath a dress
And I must confess that I’m a size too white to have these breasts
Too young to have a heart this wise in my chest
And too fatherless to be such a success
Too girly to possess a voice that can stress all the things that make me stressed
And speak when I’m getting less than I deserve
Too much from the burbs to serve you
With rhymes that can swerve you off your path
Too error depleted for this to be the first draft
Too artsy to be decent in math
Too high school to not give a crap
Whether guys think I’m hot
Or if I should be putting more of my stew in the pot
And ask me if I’ve ever done drugs
Or beer
And have no fear to proclaim
I do not!
I’m too old to have never been kissed
And too outspoken to have ever been missed
Too forward to be tricked
By the tip of a trick that would stick memories of him
I wish I could lick
Each and every one of them and never swallow
Keep their trim on the rim of my mouth
Too bold not to shout
The truth whenever I find it
Too cinematic not to rewind it
And sign every moment like I owned it
With poems like this
And most of all
I’m too good for you bitch
Too good to be constrained by the perceptions in your brain
Because they drive me insane
And you’ve struck out
Even though your ball is in the wrong lane
And just so I don’t have to refrain
You are a size zero
Zero respect for anyone who wants to infect
This world with something more than tits on stick
Zero ability to reflect
And realize that those Starbucks lattes are like toats gonna pack on you
From your thighs to your toes
And zero understanding that you looked better with your old nose
I’m a size too fat to rise to the occasion
Take your words and rearrange them
And explain them so you know what you just said
And you can go to bed at night and cry for the lies this world has told you
How it molds you into ordinary
Thinking standard was extraordinary
Because guess what?
I like that I jiggle
It lets my body dance even when I’m not
And even though you might think I’m chubby and not hot
I’m a hell of a lot more creative on the spot
I’m a virgin who won’t make his bed rock
But make his heart stop
Because I’m starting a revolution
Where we pick up the pollution
Left by the media
And it’s promotions that twigs are beautiful
And it’s preconceived notions
That when a girl weighs over 150 pounds
You can discard her emotions
So there is going to be a little commotion
Greater than the earthquake that erupts in China when I jump up and down
I’m going to rearrange this nation
And I’m starting with this town
Because I’m not the only size too
You’ll find around
 And I don’t need you
To find the perfect gown.

Contact

Ariel is available and interested in anything creative!
For spoken word performances & workshops, web & graphic design, or other writing/film projects please contact via email at arielsob@usc.edu.
New York & Los Angeles work preferred!