A collection of literature by me, and then some. I realize how tempting it would be to use pieces you find online for quick school projects. However, if you’ve got half a mind…don’t you dare. Just like I’m strict with my artwork, I’m also passionate about my writing and won’t tolerate plagiarism. Neither will your instructors. There are ways to find copied work online, and those methods have become very popular in schools. Act wisely. I’m also privileged to be a published poet – You MUST ask permission before using any of my work.
Enjoy~
[add celestial poem...] [figure out page section links again]
And All the Walls Come Crashing Down
by Ashleigh Brett
Dec. 2008
After all the bloody hell she’s been through
Nothing has quite been the same.
Cynical, sharp, defensive, rough…
Were never words on her name.
Ever.
How easy it was to make her blush
To fluster her naive heart,
To cause her to laugh, to gasp, to squeal…
It was simple at the start.
Not only that, but adorably shy;
Not the prettiest of girls, but not the bottom rung.
Just right for any decent guy
At least…that’s the song she sung.
Never touched, never taken…
Yet so full of hopes and dreams.
There was no reason to be shaken.
No reason to doubt or lose belief.
But what happened…?
Damn the fallen!
Now no one can come close.
There’s a barrier that surrounds her.
Her attitude is morose.
Her face is still a gift of God
But none will touch it twice.
The closer one will get to her
The harder she will fight
To keep the walls she’s built so strong
From falling to the might
Of love.
It’s wrong.
She knows.
But what is one to do when after all these painful years
Her hopes and dreams were played on and ended up in tears.
The woes.
When time after time the dagger ripped into the heart
And showed her what her dreams were worth…
An insult…and a permanent, jagged mark.
So, the walls are strong, filled with power…so high.
Her face portrays her will to stand
Her tongue…betrays her mind’s blinded alibi
Of satisfaction.
Change she hates, but this is fine?
The front of independence towards those who reach for her
Is how she keeps her walls around her…
…it’s how she keeps from crying.
Because within those walls hides a girl.
Not the prettiest of girls, but not the bottom rung.
Just right for any decent guy
At least…that’s the song she’s always sung.
Never touched, never taken…
Yet so full of hopes and dreams…
Dreams that some day one will come,
…girl be found…
And all the walls come crashing down.
~✧~
From A Senior (In High School)
by Ashleigh Brett
Dec. 2007
High school’s not an easy fight,
You’re caught up in the throng.
Although it’s just a step in life
Your outtake may be wrong.
Doing well is crucial now;
You can’t afford to slack.
If you fail, you will see how
Your life will start to lack
In vital opportunities
You’ll need for your success,
In discipline moralities,
And social skills much less.
Relationships are wonderful,
And some may stay in tact,
But heartbreaks here are plentiful,
Please take this as a fact.
Ninety percent of high school love
Will end in tragedy.
Advice given from above
Is keep from baloney.
You’ll have time for all that shortly,
For now just focus on school.
Think before you regret it sorely,
‘Cause failing is so not cool.
~✧~
Perfection is…
by Ashleigh Brett
Feb. 2009
Perfection is…
Let’s see…
I do love the quiet
And the breeze as it brushes my hair past my face
Taking in the twilight as the birds settle
And the world relaxes into a calm serenity.
Perfection is…
swaying to a harmony only I can hear
Taking in the vastness that is the beautiful creation around me
Be it country trees or city lights.
Perfection is…
Breathing in fresh air as I sit on a patio
Leaning against a post
With a fruit smoothie, letting my skin warm with the sun.
Then the air turns crisp and I feel more alive.
Perfection is…
Moonlight stirring my anxiety as I study the stars
Feeling closer and closer to the possibility of spreading my wings
And lighting the sky with my own energy.
Perfection is…
Finally allowing my heart to skip a beat
When the whole day has gone so wrong and suddenly
He shows up…
Stealing the breath I’d been holding in for far too long.
Perfection is…
Caring for someone so deeply that I cry for them from the bottom of my heart
At the thought of their death…
…before they even die.
Because even though I don’t say it, I know that they are irreplaceable.
Perfection is…
The adventures of a carefree child exploring the world they know so little about.
Likewise, my memories of such…and the smile that touches my lips
Every…single…time.
Perfection is…
Suddenly realizing that everything I’ve worked for has paid off
And the feeling that comes with it.
The feeling of true accomplishment…the feeling of…purpose.
Perfection is…
…perfection…is…
All of these things…yet…there’s one thing that never fails to stand out amongst them all.
And that would be:
… lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, blotting out the whole entire world and everything in it…
and letting the Deity remain…
the one who made it all.
To let Him roam free in the stillness of my life, and grace it with His power, His love, and His everlasting glory…
Ensuring me that no matter what I do He’s there to care…
The pain I have, he’s there to share…and to me…
THAT…is perfect.
~✧~
Got Life?
by Ashleigh Brett
Apr. 2008
No,
Don’t go there.
Don’t you say those things again.
I’m so sick of how you’re saying that your life has got no plan.
Get your butt up out of bed.
Put the video game on hold.
Get some decent, fresh new clothes on.
And give me that remote!
Shut up about your ruined life.
There’s more to it than high school.
You’ll never know what you can do
‘Till you get up and try…fool!
Don’t tell me that you’re useless.
Don’t say that it’s too late.
You’re seventeen years old…
You don’t know your fate.
Push yourself like I do.
Resolve to do your best.
Ten years from now I want to see you swimming in success.
So go get dressed.
It’s a start.
Then go get yourself a job.
Regardless what you think, cynic, you’re actually quite smart.
No, I’m not your mother.
Yes, I’m in your grade.
But you’ve gotta understand…
To fail is not why we were made.
~✧~
Just Taking It In
by Kristin Wiley (a good friend of mine in the U.S. Army)
Just taking it in,
Standing in the middle of the city, again.
Walking down the street where poverty begins.
A woman in the alley with nothing to eat,
she sits there alone with no shoes on her feet.
A man on the corner is begging for money,
he has no job and his family is hungry.
A boy tall and proud in uniform comes along,
looking depressed like something is wrong.
The people on the street show him respect,
but his thoughts are on the war,
where he is about to be sent.
I wonder if he understands what he is worth yet.
Just taking it in,
looking through a window to the past again.
I see a child on a bench in nothing, but rags.
The boy soldier looks at him with pity,
but he is happy, he brags,
he still has his mom, and his dad.
Walking by the man on the corner,
the soldier offers him money,
the man graciously refuses saying
“you are the one fighting for our country.”
Seeing the woman in the alley he stops on by,
offers her his boots, but kindly she replies,
“you need your boots soldier, to save other’s lives.”
Just taking it in,
standing in the doorway to where it all began.
When he fights for his life, he is fighting for them.
For the happiness of all, except him.
His dreams may never come true,
but because he does his duty with honor and valor
those back at home will sleep safe
knowing they are protected by this boy who is so great.
I wonder if he understands what he is worth yet.
Just taking it in,
staring down from the rooftop into the street again.
The people uptown look down with disgust,
on the people of the street who look back with lust.
yet the people on the street are the one’s with a smile,
though the folks uptown have all the things worth while.
The soldier boy looks on sadly,
at the people uptown who are so greedy
when the people below on the streets are so needy.
The boy walks in to the church to pray from them,
but its run by the uptown folks who won’t let soldiers in.
They don’t believe in the war that wasn’t his to choose,
but now its his fights and he chooses not to lose.
the soldier will make a miracle happen,
with no support and no one with aid.
I walk the stairs and lend him a hand
I won’t stand and watch, a fellow soldier drown.
Kindly, I tell him “the church may be corrupt,
but God is still there, every time you are in need,
he hears every prayer.
the people on the streets are fine as they are.
they have nothing because they give unto others,
and that makes them greater by far.
Move on soldier, fight for a cause not entirely your own
stand by your fellow soldier and friend,
and know these people will be safe
for God has sent a Guardian Angel in your place.
Remember for whom you fight and you will stay strong
You are an American Soldier
and God will be with you all day and night long.
~✧~
High Flight
Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
~✧~
If You Were Coming in the Fall
by Emily Dickinson
If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I’d wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I’d count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemens land.
If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I’d toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.