Designated Doodler

There was never a moment of silence on the ship. It was constantly abuzz with mutterings from the crew members, the steady hum of the air circulation, the hollow clack of regulation boots as their owners strode down the sterile white corridors. Which is what made this moment so special. Alone in an observation gallery, closed for repair, Jim sat on the floor, his legs dangling over the edge of the platform where construction was halted. His bright golden shirt turned a deep mustard color in the darkness, lit only by distant unnamed stars. His arms began to grow weak from having propped up his body so long. His hands ached, his wrists burned, his whole body hurt - but not as much as his mind. When he first heard footsteps he felt tempted to turn around, but he didn't need to look to know who it was. Two shiny black boots came to a neat stop next to his right hand. "Spock," he said, still staring out the reinforced observation window. The Vulcan looked down at his

I sit and wait For my future to break For them to tell me that I've made a mistake And I wonder How much longer it will take For them to realize that I'm a creator Just a poser here Not an analyst, but An innovator and a catalyst And from analysis I've deduced that I don't belong Behind a desk So lonely and monotonous It drains my spark My youthfulness I'm the furthest thing from an analyst I'm a creative And if I don't create I might explode If I don't draw I might implode If I lack human interaction It's shut down mode Because there's too many words Built up in me It's too hard to store them up along With all of the ideas inside of me Trapped behind a mouth tight shut I don't know what to do Or where I belong So I wrote this for you Or because of you Or because at some point I was you And you are me Training to be where I am Working towards the point Of knowing that what you've worked for Isn't where you want to be How long do y

Four years of my life are scattered across two thumb drives and a laptop or two. Downloads of papers that other's have written sit stale, saved, long past review. Half my wardrobe is purple, and too casual to ever wear My bike sits in the garage, resting on deflating tires A tired relic of a time when I biked everywhere Sometimes my fingers ache to turn the lock In a series of fluid motion that my heart never forgot My first semester I had no friends, but made a 3.9 Welcome to college, welcome to the dean's list Second semester I joined a Christian sorority I thank God for it, because they were, they are, my family And on a whim cut off most of my hair The hairdresser hesitated to do it, and in the end, he was right I thought moving out that first year and going home Was one of the best days of my life

Tonight I heard a former Muslim man named Saleem talk. Here's what happened: Saleem brought up a young man in college, he pulled out three colored scarves. One white, one red and one black. He draped the white one around his shoulders and pulled the young man in next to him, sharing the scarf. He said, "this is what God wanted when he created man. He was like a daddy that wanted children. He desired fellowship with us and we were blameless. He told Adam and Eve that they could eat from any tree, except for one, the tree of life. And that if they did, surely they would die." "And what did they do? They ate the fruit. And although their physical bodies didn't die in that moment, they suffered a spiritual death," Saleem said, removing his arm (and the scarf) from the young man. "And so the world fell to sin," he said, draping a black scarf over the boy. "But we were still God's children and he did not forsake us. Instead,

*I wrote this poem based on the song that is below. I  recommend listening to the song while reading the poem ;) I found a song call Quesadilla    It makes me hungry It makes me hum It makes me happy I'll give you some Let your long hair down Turn your head inside out And take a listen Have a bite of mine And make it yours Turn your ears into Your eyes On an adventure In a tree house balloon Past the bright blue skies To walk the moon