{"id":1338,"date":"2020-01-29T15:55:19","date_gmt":"2020-01-29T15:55:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/?p=1338"},"modified":"2020-01-29T15:55:19","modified_gmt":"2020-01-29T15:55:19","slug":"collected-poetry-by-isabelle-rideout","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/collected-poetry-by-isabelle-rideout\/","title":{"rendered":"Collected Poetry by Isabelle Rideout"},"content":{"rendered":"
\r\n
\r\n \r\n <\/i>\r\n <\/a>\r\n <\/span>\r\n<\/div><\/div>

i. A Being of Thought<\/span><\/i><\/h2>\n

I am, so I think.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am, or so I think.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am, at least I think, so I think.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I am, therefore I think.<\/span><\/p>\n

I think, therefore I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

I think I am, therefore I am as I think.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My thoughts think I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am through my thoughts.<\/span><\/p>\n

My thoughts think they are, therefore I think I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I am in my thoughts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In my thoughts, I think I am.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am through my thoughts, the thoughts that I think.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I think.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

I think I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

I think I am a being of thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ii. Dreams From a Butterfly\u2019s Life<\/span><\/i><\/h2>\n

Perhaps all of life is a dream.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Thought together at the seams.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps everything isn\u2019t real.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Though if I think it is, what\u2019s the big deal?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Does it matter if I think thoughts,<\/span><\/p>\n

or if thoughts think me?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If reality is real,<\/span><\/p>\n

or merely a dream?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

For if I believe it is, it is.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If I think it is, it is.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And if I believe I am, I am<\/span><\/p>\n

If I think I am, I am.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Perhaps I think thoughts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps they think me.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps I am thought by another being.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But if all of life was a dream,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I would think it all the same.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I think thoughts and they think me.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

iii. My Own Dreams<\/span><\/i><\/h2>\n

Swirling at the seams,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

falling at the edge of view,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I can see my dreams,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

all the stories that I brew.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The stars can bring the light,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

and the sun will shine,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

for living life is bright<\/span><\/p>\n

from this view of mine.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019ll tell a tale of light,<\/span><\/p>\n

that forgets to leave its mark.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ll miss a dream in the night,<\/span><\/p>\n

left behind in the dark.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Through snow and rain and hail,<\/span><\/p>\n

weather fair and not,<\/span><\/p>\n

on oceans I will sail,<\/span><\/p>\n

forgetting what I’ve sought.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Every story told,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

every breath that I take,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

forms a dream so old,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

that I forget it when I wake.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I look to the sky,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

and I look to the sea.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I wonder and ask why,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

why I am me.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The dreams beyond my sleep<\/span><\/p>\n

may forget me when I wake,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

but tales I sow and reap\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

are always mine to make.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The stars, the sun, the moon,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

they populate the sky,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

but I know one day soon,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

they too shall die.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And so every story ends,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

as it all begins.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Time heals and mends,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

in the hearths of inns.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Or so once I dreamed<\/span><\/p>\n

in the sleep of my mind.<\/span><\/p>\n

Where, at the seams,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

the universe, for once, seemed kind.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

iv. A Scene from the End of My Life<\/span><\/i><\/h2>\n

Chimes heard on the breeze<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, the story my brain weaves<\/span><\/p>\n

Wind rustles through the leaves<\/span><\/p>\n

The memories slip away with ease<\/span><\/p>\n

Cold nips at all things<\/span><\/p>\n

To dream many dreams with wings<\/span><\/p>\n

Acorns fall from trees<\/span><\/p>\n

To sail upon those infinite seas<\/span><\/p>\n

Flowers bloom in color<\/span><\/p>\n

Though time makes it duller<\/span><\/p>\n

Logs are stacked neatly<\/span><\/p>\n

To me, Death whispers sweetly<\/span><\/p>\n

In the sky, the sun sinks<\/span><\/p>\n

All thoughts my brain thinks<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

v. Pretty, Empty Things<\/span><\/i><\/h2>\n

A confession:\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am full\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

of pretty<\/span><\/p>\n

empty<\/span><\/p>\n

things.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It\u2019s all a<\/span><\/p>\n

hollow lie<\/span><\/p>\n

that I tie up<\/span><\/p>\n

in a pretty bow<\/span><\/p>\n

and pretty paper.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It doesn\u2019t<\/span><\/p>\n

mean\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

anything.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It just<\/span><\/p>\n

sounds\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

nice.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How beautiful.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How meaningless.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How ironic that I write beautiful nothings about my beautiful nothings.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Just another one of those things<\/span><\/p>\n

that sounds nice<\/span><\/p>\n

but doesn\u2019t mean<\/span><\/p>\n

anything<\/span><\/p>\n

at all. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

i. A Being of Thought I am, so I think. I am, or so I think.\u00a0 I am, at least I think, so I think.   I am, therefore I think. I think, therefore I am. I think I am, therefore I am as I think.   My thoughts think I am. I am through […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1338","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-all-posts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1338","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1338"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1338\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1339,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1338\/revisions\/1339"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1338"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1338"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waylandmiddleschool.org\/orange_black\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1338"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}