sorry

man, i sound like such a whiner on my blog, I'm sorry. It's 3am and I'm still awake and looking through my blog trying to figure out how i want to make a professional website and I was looking through all my blog posts and they are all depressing and self loathing. It's good to go through seasons I guess, but i had a way better year than my blog makes it sound like. I really didn't like living in my room this semester, but it was still fun and entertaining despite the time I wanted to murder my roommates. Oh well, that's how it goes sometimes. If anyone knows how to make a website I would love some help. Thanks.

Dawn Patrol Poem

Dawn Patrol

By: Michael Slider

The stark grey clouds break into a flaming show of purple and orange,

Illuminating the vast sands and waters of the mighty Pacific.

Four souls in the sand, preparing for the day’s adventure,

Silence except for the crashing white water against the shore.

The four charge in, prepared to take on the mighty seas,

Their foam boards in hand, the water is cold.

Under the first wave and over the next, paddle the four,

Farther they swim to meet the break of the wave.

The bottle green water remains glassy between the sets,

An eerie sign of what is to come.

The horizon gives way to an approaching wall of blue, green, grey

The peak is strong, the four are ready.

One takes the lead, paddling forward with strength and speed,

Trying his best to out swim the approaching wave.

The right breaking wave barrels The One as his exit is closed off,

Sucked under with the deafining gurgling sound ringing in his ear.

Flipping, thrashing, groping, The One struggles to right himself and escape the watery grave,

No sight, no sound and no breath in his lungs to finish the fight.

Panic overtakes, and thoughts of loved ones left alone creep into the head of The One,

Finally after what feels like an eternitny, the feet of The One strike the cold sand below.

Quickly bursting through the dark abyiss and into the light, the cold air piecring his lungs,

Wiping the water from his eyes and clearing his throat from the previous battle against the elements.

The One rejoins the others, whose whoops and cries are a welcomed sound,

The glassy green settles back and the four wait for another round with the wall of blue, green, grey

The gulls fly overhead and a dolphin emerges to great the day and the four,

Who are blessed to belong to a beautiful scene.

An act of worship, the four stay out, conquering the undulating watery walls,

Remembering the fear and using it enhance the next ride.

The four charge ahead, foam boards in hand,

Patrolling the dawn and cutting the walls of blue, green, grey.