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Working.

I am sorry I havent been posting up anything new on my blog.
I've been busy working on my own book, homemade and everything.
Before I was organizing my notebooks, finding poems and ideas, collecting them.
To know how much material I have, and also to begin choosing the poems/short stories I want for my book.
Now that I've chosen 52 poems, I am typing them all.
So please, if you come here regularly or every once in a while,  to find nothing has updated.
I want you to know what I've been doing.
I'm very excited for this book, having it be printed/made in my room.
All on my own.
Its going to be a very proud accomplishment.
And I'd be a little bitch if I didn't follow through with my dreams.
I don't wanna be that.

Once I have completed my book and made a certain amount of copies, Im going to sell them for $5.
I'm going to make a facebook event of where to buy the book, from me upfront personally.
And if you don't live around me and want a book,
do not be afraid to email me your address, because I will mail it to you.
I'll buy my own stamps/folder envelopes, because I think it'll be really cool doing something like that.
(you send the $5 first of course)
Dont think of it as so much of a 'hassle', im going 50/50 on it with you also, so we balance within the complications (if any) on sending through mail personally.
Plus, wouldnt that be cool?! I think so.
If this interest any of you reading this, I thank you.
If you want to buy a book, I thank you and please keep posted.
The facebook event will come soon.

Email me at: anthonybooth1754@yahoo.com

I'm 32 poems out of 52 as of right now, I might finish by the end of today.
Im pretty excited.

The Lion Monkey Elephant Blanket.

My best to keep warm,
underneath a small blanket,
that I’m too tall for.
Cold shoulders sleeping,
or both feet dangling out,
for the boogyman.
Curled cozy perfect,
awoken after stretching,
with a morning wood.
Another nights rest,
hopefully a mailbox scene,
with my tulip love.
When the nights over,
crawling back to my dream cloud,
my best to keep warm.

5 haikus.

7/25/12
23:12:12

Cigarettes.

Nic, a teen dwelling amongst others in a packed box.
“I cant wait until I get out of Malboro.
“Shut up over there!” one yelled from the corner wall.

A damaged coffin nails last words before tobacco trickled out his head. “My cig, you don’t know what’s outside this box. Who knows if we’d want to even leave this harsh environment. None of us do. We might miss it once we’re chosen to find out. Knowing that, I’m content with where I’ve been placed. And you should be too.”

My friend Ricky Lee began smacking a pack of stoges he stole, maybe two moments ago.
“Why do you tap the box like that?” Kcalb asked behind the glasses.
“Its kinda like-” beating louder continuously “waking them up, making them fresh.”
“Oh.”

“Its opening.” Nic announced.
Everyone inside began cheering, congratulating, wishing him luck being the first chosen.
Placed between dry lips, “Got a spark?”
Kcalb assisted, thinking of his participation, and glanced at Nic.

“What?” confused, as the tick of an empty lighter ticks, showing spark flame.
“Oh no, shit-guys! Hey! Help!” Ricky put the stolen Reds 100s in his back pocket.
Within the quick seconds left to himself.
Not knowing fate designed, cram packed aligned with nineteen others. “They’re all gonna experience-” gets the lighter working, “this.”
Each puff puffed blew clouds of Nics soul, second hand flowing with the air.
While normal conversations continued.
“Do you smoke stoges Kcalb?”
“Naw man, if I were to fuck up my lungs, it’d be with weed.”
“Hmm, understandably true.” Ricky tossed the butt of a still lit cigarette, and off we went.

Nic was smoked in the Hi Ho parking lot.
Giving lung cancerous revenge, however many years later.
As warned on the box.

14:24:37
7/20/12

His Dream.

A young boy has a lover at school, but she doesn't notice him.
He smiles as she walks past him, but still doesn't notice him.
Walking home after a long embarrassing day, he grows weary and lays his ambitious head.
Strolling down a street he noticed a golden necklace through a window in a shop outside of town.
With just the right amount of money he was able to purchase the necklace hoping his lover would notice him if he made his move.
Within little time, he approached her front door,
she answered with a surprised face as he said no words simply holding out the golden necklace with a smile on his face.
She looked in his eyes and accepted his gift,
with all confidence, he walked his way home hoping shes thinking of him just as he is to her.
He ran his way to his room to scream in his pillow full of excitement and glee,
he jumped from his feet landing on his bed having him wake up.
Wondering what just happened, disappointed at how real everything felt.
Agreeing that it was to good to be true, he walked his way to school.
Passing by his lovely darling giving her only a sympathetic smirk,
she looked in his eyes and smiled right back at him giving a very secretive wink.
He noticed her neck glowed with the shine of gold that came from the necklace.
"It's really beautiful." she said, "Let's hangout sometime?"
In shock and confusion, he gasped for the air that she stole from him.
He nodded his head as she walked away.
Heading their own separate ways, the boy laughed in grief at himself and his dream.


5/9/11
23:06

Earlier This Morning.

"You busy today?"
looked at watch, "Only Wednesday."
No, I'm staying home.
"Why not ever leave?
alone all hours must suck,
if you believe that."
"In my room, I am
a someone doing something
writing and watching.

10:31:22
7/11/12

3 haiku, one scene.

recently

Ive been organizing all of my notebooks, to know how many poems/ ideas I have in each one, then adding them all together. Along that way of working for the past few days, I havent posted anything. I've been wanting to post, but get so caught up in keeping everything hidden until I release it. 

Though with all that thought of, I still wanted to post some legit poems I really like. Those being the most recent 3 I just posted. 

The Fear Of The Color

"The Black 199."

Like Him.

I enjoyed writing these as much as reading them over and over again. 

enjoy thinking!

Like Him.

Two layers of clothe
grey pullover, under plaid button down.
Skating to school,
after the bus ride from down the hills.
Day flew by,
walking in the C building room 113.
She looked at him.
The opposite routine back home, at 1:33.
Watching his sentence be written,
behind shadows off candles.
Coloring the black and white,
two times one plus times a day.
Falling asleep,
water bottle, chapstick, phone charging,
06:00 alarm.
She wakes up,
and puts on two layers of clothe

22:59
3/19/12

"The Black 199."

Father gave up, "What began all this? I demand to know!" the silence echoed the room while dinner was served.
"We wouldn't know anymore than you!" Sherry finally spoke. Then slapped by mother for the first time. She blacked out, bleeding.
Dim spotlight brightened her face the first time Anthony showed her-

"Oh my god, what did you do?!"
"Is she still alive?"
Mother knelt to her daughter, "No no no! Please, say something!"
Open eyes with falling off tears, Sherry soothingly groaned in stunned admittance,


18:06
5/10/12

The Fear Of The Color.

In a different world each day,
within the matter of hours.
Running from black white and grey,
to blue, red, green, purple powers.
Skimming my pages, all written upside down.
Evidence of the chippy,
that I call myself not.
People do worse, a one person difference,
to the paintbrush we paint with..
When our dance is done,
the bowl of color ashes black and white.
Looking at where you came from,
two worlds together,
at once.
Of what to do with my supplies
standing first in line,
outside a ballroom,
by myself.

4/29/12
12:57-13:24

Faith In Yourself.

Why are you looking down?
Why don't I see a smile instead a frown?
How come your voice cracks and sounds lower than usual?
Who do I need to confront with words sharp but casual?
Don't let your confidence be shattered by weak words,
don't take in the deep insults from what you've heard.
A book like you deserves to look down from the top shelf,
meaning you're pure for the world, most importantly yourself.
Understand the perspectives of other people that judge you from what they see,
have faith that you can change the words that they release free.
Keep content and humble, watch others watching you.
Let them speak for you, without you saying anything.
You can't make facts from distraught sentences hoping for something.
Get out there, make your own sun shine,
who cares what they say, you won't let them make you blind.

4/5/11
23:23

Late.

Left me with no intention of being right,
You awaken through the day and never sleep at night
To entertain the ones that keep you acquainted,
To leave behind what we both painted
A beautiful picture of you and I
Details from the sun that shines down our eyes
These memories are cold but the hearts still beating
Looking at the stars with you in presence is repeating
Beginning for the end so that we can anew
to conclude this love,
hate’s past overdue.

12/10/10

Curling.

If a lie had it's way,
it would regret it's creation.
The wind moves you
can't stand your own ground.
Dreams of perfect memories fall out of your tears shown.
When you see a shine,
don't be afraid to run out of the dark.
Your hands with their fingers begged me to not let go.
No longer will you sleep alone having emotion cry.
Loneliness accompanies one single hand to hold.
Don't look over shoulders expecting to see me.
Don't tell me you regret the time that's been spent.
Fly like you need to, faster than that first spark.
Until that day comes, oh how I watch you die.
Don't give me goodbyes when I say hello.
Don't wonder how I'm doing, when you terrorize my world.
Thinking of those days our bodies got cold,
we curled.

2/11/11
23:41

Free Samples.

Respect is a beautiful thing,
small words in the pockets of impact full meaning.
Given and giving, while
not once saying you gave,
returns favors amongst best timing.
When it hits home,
sweet is stuck in between.
Tingles in the nose,
sensitive sharp throat breaths,
fumbling words, jittering out yelps
kept inside.
Respect is a beautiful thing.
Accept the free sample when someones offering.

6/14/12
18:12

18.

Last night, in the hour of eleven.

Silvia, a nice enough stranger,

paid for my bus ride.

I only had a twenty,

giving my last pocket change to a bum,

keeping my cool about it.

"Hey stay there, I'll talk with you!" inside a packed metro bus.

"Hi, my names Anthony. Whats your name?"

"Silvia" a calm heavy set girl stood.

Asking for her age, "I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen? Thats cool. Its my birthday on Monday..." we both knew my next question.

"How old do I look?" with one hand scanning my presence.

With a curious face, knowing her guess is wrong,

though says anyway, "Sixteen."

"Sixteen?! Im turning 18!"

7/1/12

12:02-12:06

Its my birthday today!!

My Belongings.

And so, it begins.
Blessed by darling, given the honor.
A new long road Triscuo,
be here with me, as I embrace you.
Castell remains alive,
following paths with courage, loyalty
and wisdom; different than Faber.
Your own person written stories,
concluding beauty in delicate form.
Wise man is pleased, unsatisfied, aware, of the comings and goings went.
The dim lit ballroom slow dancing master,
with Anne, My, Mary, Rebecca, Ashely and Aphrodite.
Colorblind people, I apologize.
In black white normalities,
lost abnormal crayons we are.
A seventeen year old named Anthony Brian Booth.
My life, my dreams, my stories, my poetry, are in 1952.

Sincerely,
Jeff Oralue

6/26/12 19:25-21:55

Without Cliche.

Dont let yourself get to your head.
Walking on the flat line of whom began first steps.
Success and recognition come together,
blinding and feeding you,
unable to catch sight of meaning.
Losing hunger, blood flow from it all.
Having to "try",
defeats all efforts of simplicity.
Understanding, relating, in common with the minds and ways,
only I myself can carry.
Still quite young, seeing this now.
Life only moves on,
hearing no complain.
While pursuing happiness,
you lose what made you sad.
Continuing to where you haven't awoken,
sleeping on dreams.

5/7/12
09:38

The Buzzing Fly.

They invade your space with their buzzing noises of automatic annoyance.
Sending chills from the back of our necks, forearms then our chest.
Coming through the front door to circulate my surroundings.
Looking around at where this fly is at,
I stood without movement waiting for it's next move.
Until it flew, I reacted in violence denouncing it's life that's invading mine.
Not being able to silence the bug,
missing every slap I throw trying to aim for it's death.
I stare straight while the buzz revolves around me.
Agitated for I can never catch this insect that feeds off my actions taunting me with it's wings.
Landing on the floor, table, windows and couches camouflaged as so it seems.
Finally I grabbed the swatter and threw my arms in every direction.
Hoping that somehow the fly will come in contact with me having it ricochet to the ground where it'll die.
I watched it's wings twitch and it's legs squirm running upside down.
I bent down to stare in it's eyes,
as I wouldn't doubt it looked back into mine.
Then it stopped moving.
May pity be felt for these creatures?
Will it's family and friends come and suffocate me with all their buzzing?
Would I feel guilt once I declare my victory?


No, fuck that.
5/11/11
21:52

Overwhelming Waves.

A sand crab trickles it's way across the oceans floor,
looking for places of protection to not be washed away by the seas shore.
Hiding away from overwhelming waves that crash on the poor little creature.
Immediately reacting or a second lost may cost him dearly.
Learning from mistakes, he's been washed up within the power of the oceans current,
being twirled around in circles wondering if he'll come out alive,
finally landing on the cool sand with a new view of the sky,
trying to never again be caught up in all one wave may bring.
Strangers come and try to take him away from where he'd rather be,
clawing away trying to not care of what others think or what they see.
While a wave backtracks it's way to where it came,
the sand crab runs farther away due to its born shame.
When will he find his place?
Where will he be when that moment comes?
The sea continues to crash especially at night,
he looks up at the moon for the little time he has until the next wave.
Wondering if one day he can live in peace with no threats in sight,
as he hopes deep within the sand running away every now and then waiting to be saved.

5/9/11
21:54

Take Me Back.

Take me back to those years that I played in the sand,
I'm growing up to fast and it's a bother to understand.
Give me my careless ways and lack of responsibilities,
now I live in the real world with limited possibilities.
Let me have my favorite toy that kept my day fulfilled with fun.
nowadays the only freedom I have is to run.
Running toward my next class taking my next steps in life,
worrying about the next meal to eat when it use to be rife.
When money wasn't a factor or a need in my day,
back to when parents paid attention to all I had to say.
I realize my childhood was taken for granted now that I know reality,
she takes away every piece of sincerity to let me live unhappily.
Don't take away my memories as a kid,
give them back so at least before you take them they're already hid.
I live my day by day thinking of how easy my life was before I grew,
I just wish someone had told me so at least I had a clue.
I never cherished those moments of purity and joy,
sometimes I wish I can go back to when I was a young boy.

Day 10
4/18/11
20:24