Cliché

Is it cliché
For me to want
A happy ending,
Glass slippers aside
Put clean edges
On loose ends,
Securely knotted bows
Sparkling displays for finales--
Where the just are rewarded
And the villain admits defeat?

Something More

Something more than rain drops
On fragile, unmoving glass
More than the sound of impact
As the glass steadies under its fist
Repeatedly...
Somewhere else,
Where rain doesn't fall
And glass doesn't break,
What poetry exists there?

The First Encounter

Plagued with tears,
Violently thrashing, screaming
People claim to meet you--
They call out your name
Weep guilt and lies,
Fall to the floor,
Heavy and broken,
Unable to relinquish the past
Unchanged and burdened...

Window to the Soul

It starts in the eyes,
There's something there
     you cannot hide
And when I gaze upon them,
I'm mesmerized by something
     so much deeper
Something intangible I wish to keep
But I can only find it there,
Behind beautiful brown windows
Each time they gaze upon me
Until I find myself staring
Unconsciously seeking
     some rare occurrence
I want to touch.

Self Conscious

Double, triple, quadruple check--
Look back in the mirror one more time
And then when my face flushes
Run back to the mirror to confirm
My paranoia...
Are my words the word I want to say?
Do you I sound as stupid as I feel...
And yet the smile on your face
Is discomforting in my aggravated state...
I put on the confident front,
You wouldn't know how nervous I am
If it weren't for the shift in my eyes
The flutter of my hand,
A twitch of an eye...
I know you're seeing something different
Something I can't see
And I'm scared of what it could be.

Elusive

Elusive
The truth hides in plain sight
Invisible because you refuse to see
Lie to yourself
To avoid the image in front of you
As though denial will make it disappear...

Wish Upon A Star

A

Way

In the dark

Distantly glowing

Sparkling and twinkling

Fire--an invincible life force holding beauty at immortal standards

A beacon of hope for the universe to gaze upon in awe

Constant. Consistent in its reign and power...

Reach out to me and speak confidence

Open the door to life's maze

Shower me in your abyss of wisdom

grant me jewels,       pearls, and rubies

I want to shine,               in the dark sky

Wish--on the                        lost loves of 

hope and                                 bring peace

home.                                                home.

The Pseudonym

I've always known that eventually I'd have a pen name; it's not that I don't like my name so much as a separation between two halves of me that have always existed. Initially it was just something I found funny--the fact that half of my friends were certain I'd grow up to be a science geek and the other half assumed I'd go to a liberal arts school to major in English Literature. As I grew older and chose the science path of life, I realized I couldn't give up writing; it's become more than a hobby to me.  I knew I could continue writing in my spare time, that was a no brainer. What complicated the matter came to my attention when I entered grad school.

One thing I know all too well is that we live in the age of technology. Google seems to hold the answer to all of our questions and it's the first place most of us look for our answers. Suddenly, I imagined when applying for a job the hiring manager decides to Google me only to find poems and science-fiction novels. I imagined colleagues searching for my latest research only to find short stories and essays. Then I pictured fans (at least I hope I'll have fans) of my creative writing finding my technical papers and research documents. What a mess that would be! No, I thought, techie me and literary me have to have some distinction; they have to be separate niches of the same unit. 

Which brought me to a new problem. What on earth was I going to call myself? I applaud my parents on picking my real name; naming someone is quite a daunting task. Usually, when I create my characters this is one of the hardest parts of the creation. Sometimes a name just feels right, but until then everything seems off. When I was about 12, I came up with the name Icie Brown. Perhaps I liked the way it looked when I signed it. Or maybe I was going for something urban and cool. I'm not really sure where it came from, but once I started seriously contemplating a pen name I knew that Icie Brown was not going to make the cut. I wanted something a little more meaningful, more timeless, more realistic.

I thought and thought... And thought some more.

The most common naming tradition is to name children after their parents, grandparents, or someone the parents feel are worthy of being honored. My real name was in fact given to me as in memory of a family member who passed away too young. I decided that my pen name would pay homage to someone important to me, someone who had a large influence on the person I grew up to be. Naturally, that presented more problems (there are a lot of important people to consider here)! An easy choice would be my mother--after all I wouldn't be here with out her. I love my mother, but that just didn't feel right. I still wanted something unique (and my mother's name is far from unique).  So, I decided to take it a step further and name myself after my grandmothers. What's a southern belle without a double name?

And then I remembered I actually have 3 grandmothers (my mother was raised by her aunt as well as her mother). What to do? What to do? Sometimes, hard, clean, executive choices have to be made. This was that time. I saw my biological maternal grandmother probably twice and the truth is, I don't remember anything about her. So I chose to my other 2 grandmothers to create my double name. Which still wouldn't work because--surprise!--one of my grandmothers already has a double name.

(Banging your head against a wall yet? I certainly was.)

When in doubt, get philosophical with it. My grandmothers are the starting point, the baseline. I'm not exactly like them, but more like a piece of them that is a little different--changed, if you will. Therefore, I could slightly change their names to create my own, still pay homage to them, and actually add even more meaning to this pain-in-the-neck pen name. Thus I took Iella (pronounced eye-ella)  and changed it to Eillya (pronounced like "I'll"-yuh). Then I took Mary-Ann and changed it to Marí (variant spelling of Marie).

Now all I needed was a surname. My dad once researched our family tree, the farthest he was able to trace out family tree was to a woman named Sarah Kocumba. She is my anchor.

And so I give you: Eillya-Marí Kocumba.

Stranger

a world away from me
huddled under the elements
hungry and cold
in a barren and desolate world
under the same sky
strong and brave
wishing on the same stars
crying the tears which drown my smile

Jokey

Laughs and giggles,
Just for the sake of
Laughs and giggles...
Poke fun just for a smile
And let the joke linger
Back and forth we go
Until laughter takes hold
Shaking, crying, out of control
These smiles last a lifetime
So we continue.

Struggle

Overwhelming pangs of discouragement
Pity and stereotypes rolled into a sandwich
My stomach just can't seem to digest
And the pangs in my stomach weigh me down
Slow my reactions, my movement is limited
Tight and constrained I exaggerate
Hoping to complete action after actions,
Internal and external fighting for control
Create the ever changing landscape
As the sun sets on its horizon.

Wrong

I know its wrong
But I don't know what to say
This situation is beyond me
And I'm not equipped,
Not to handle this
Not sure I want to...
The confusion is clear--
Clear like fog in the night
And it's telling me
I'm wrong...

WordArt

Quotes read from blank pages
Fill the air and linger above us
Beautiful words of inspiration
Paint illustrious images in the sky
Captivate each ear, each eye
But let us engage the message
Take it out of closed quarters
Graffiti it on unblemished walls
On display, sidelining busy streets
For the world to writhe at their display
Feel the weight of each voice
Echoing like obnoxious bass
From car to car, wheel to wheel
Circulating into hearts and minds
Creating a portrait of society

Silence

I am a master of silence--
I wrapped my silence around me
Spun it around my body like silk
Until silence bestowed it's invisibility,
Granted me this strange ability
To be seen only when I choose to be
Because it's easier that way--
I'm watching the world crash and burn
Pretending I can touch the fire
Knowing no one can see scars--
Skin secretly blistered and marred
No one knows, that I am the broken strings
Strummed on a broken battered guitar
So I pretend I'm the brightest star
Simply because it's convenient...
You see the words are there,
Relaxing on the tip of my tongue
But I have no desire to be seen
Or form bonds from words I release
Why should I break this silence
Break out of my silken shadowed cocoon
And tether myself to cheap cotton?
I'm half aware of some brilliance
Hidden here in the shadows
Kept alive by unwavering resilience
No matter how the shadows may hide
This presence is my hindrance,
Fighting to be unleashed,
Testing my resistance
But I'm not ready to make my appearance.
So I swallow back the words I know--
Words that entrench my soul,
Uncomfortable, but invisible in my cloak
Mourning the words of the visible
Somewhere unbothered and alone
Using my silence as my shield.

The Quake

Stuck in the moment,
And its too late to turn back
Complications from unstable actions--
Not weighed down with regret
But laced with uncertainty.
Hastily made decisions,
Built upon personal fault lines
Once ragged and violent,
The heart of the quake,
Grows calm and steady
Unlike the haphazard terrain above
And stillness threatens chaos
To protect the pulsing quake
And destroy the surrounding world
Or suffer its heart to agonizing death
For the world to survive...

Fairy Tale

I fell in love
Once
Long, long ago
Upon
Beautiful words
A
Dream frozen in
Time

We danced,
Once
And he was charming
Upon
The dance floor,
A
Masterpiece created by
Time

I lost myself,
Once
Hidden within layer
Upon
Layer of unknown fear
A
Memory of that one
Time

Another

Another one,
Gone--but not forgotten
So many lives lost,
So many dreams deferred
Uncoubtable tears wept
For incalculable years left
Another day
Passes on unnoticed
immortal problems
Fighting mortal me
And the tears have dried
Surpassed the ability to cry
Another tear
Lost in a sea
Of uncried tears
A grief I cannot feel
But the pain goes on
Engraved in fire
On another life.

60 seconds

60 seconds of silence
Hands on the clock
Lift from the face
Human in their new endeavor...
Hop between each tick
Deep, weary steps
A rut in time's circumference
Swirled and decorated
A tragic love story
Danced between numerals
Minutes to hours,
Hours to seconds,
Hand in hand
Around and a around
Until the minute is up.

Where Does it End?

It's 11:30 at night. I've been on campus all day, studying, tutoring, meeting, researching... But I'm excited because one of the few TV shows I watch had it's winter premiere at 8 and I actually remembered to record it. So I grab a water (yes I actually drank water for once!) get comfy in my bed and press play. The excitement lasted for all of 10 minutes before I was spiraled into disappointment, rage, and hopelessness.

The TV Show

Let me first start with a backstory of the show. It's called Switched at Birth. The basic premise is that two baby girls were--you guessed it!--switched at birth. One girl, named Bay,  was placed with the wealthy white family, while the other, Daphne, was placed with the poorer Puerto-Rican mom and Italian father. Naturally when the father sees blonde-ish, green eyed Daphne he accuses her mother of infidelity and abandons the family. Around the age of 3, Daphne has complications with pneumonia which her poorer family cannot afford and ends up partially deaf. The parents realize the switch when the girls are 16.

Celebration

Sound crusading out of a wave

Clearing the path--leading...

Bursts of light, 

Fire falling and sparkling

Shimmering dreams

Innocence of a star's baby

Captured and paraded

In pomp and fanfare

Against the black sky

Obstructing the star's themselves

If for only a moment.

Elements: Fire

Strong, red blaze
Dancing before me
Flexible in its own right
But unyielding
To strangers passing by...
Warm and defiant
Bold immortal blaze
burning bright in the night
Light the way,
Clear the path
And heat eternity.

Liberation

Blank
Like grains of sand
Colorless and uprooted
Drifting--
From shore to shore
Silent and calm
A warm blanket of nothing
Awaiting the coming--
Change,

Spread unto the horizon

Bathed in blue light.

Animosity

Inside I'm screaming

Something horrible

Fighting to get out

Born of confusion--

Anger rooted in disillusion;

An avoided confrontation

Needing to be had

And yet unworthy of time--

This animosity.

Wings

Think happy thoughts

And fly...

Simple simplicity

Push off and stretch

It hurts now,

The stretching of muscle

Reshaping of strength,

Battering of wind...

But rise high above this

And it disappears

Forgotten below

Little dots of

Hardships and pain

Anchored to the core

Tormenting the unfreed.

Exhale

Take a deep breath
Close your eyes
And everything fades--
Bright and glowing sunlight
Hiding imperfections
Making new and beautiful

Who

Happy endings exist,

In fairy tales at least

For someone...

Some unflawed protagonist 

Fighting against the odds

To overcome some

Ill suited villain--

Heartless

What if I thought an emotion
If my mind was entranced
And I believed what I thought
Unaware; A prisoner
Of connected synapses sparking
Brilliantly understanding,
Yet cold and unfeeling
A dream without the heart
A soul without a body,
Tangible yet unreal...

Dead in the water, 

Controlling me?

The Dress

Bulging at the seams,
Threads begin to stretch
A dress of splendor
Shamed with lost sequins
Fabric sagging dull and depleted
Hanging under dust
Forgotten behind the new
Strong, full, and worn
Waiting to be remembered,
Hard with which to part
And useless upon the hanger.

Roadside Thoughts

Once, a man was walking through the park and saw a beautiful butterfly struggling to break out of his cocoon. Eager to help the new butterfly, he pulled out his pocket knife and sliced through the cocoon easily. To his surprise, instead of flying off, the butterfly fell to the ground unable to fly. Unbeknownst to the man, breaking out of the cocoon is a crucial part of the butterfly's development, strengthening its wings and giving it the confidence needed to fly. In attempt to help the butterfly he'd actually killed the animal instead.

A teacher once told me this story... I don't know how much of is true, let alone scientifically accurate, however experience and time have shown that in some cases helpfulness causes more harm than help. Specifically in sheltering people or giving people more than what they've earned. Every movie I've watched, there's a parent with some secret and in order to protect their child, they choose not to tell them. The entire plot revolves around the character discovering this secret in a haphazard way. Examples: The Little Mermaid II (Ariel's daughter is unaware of her mermaid heritage, runs away to sea, is tricked into stealing from her grandfather, and almost dooms Atlantica to Ursula's evil twin sister), The Mortal Instruments (Clary's mom never tells her that she's a shadow hunter who fights demons who will eventually find her and try to kill her, nor that she possesses an important item that in the wrong hands could lead to death and destruction, let alone who "the wrong hands" are), etc. 

On TV it seems so obvious, yet people still do these things in real life. There's a really thin line between supporting and over-sheltering. Sometimes it's hard to know what actions to put with our good intentions, but it's important to think through situations. It's important to determine if swooping in to save the day will cripple the person we're saving in the long run. Unfortunately, sometimes it's better to pick a person up after they fall than to catch them.

Reflecting

Friends come and go,
Words lingering behind
And you often wonder
About motives and feelings
Uncapable of concluding,
Yet there you are,
At the end of some
Unknown disagreement
Questioning,
Anger vs. Time
But nothing you do
Causes change,
So let the words linger
As you come and go

Paradise

Out of the window
Gorgeous views,
Crystal blues waters
In luxurious pools
Swaying palms,
Green against the sky
Peace be with you
Here in paradise,.

1-1-2014

The future is blurry,
A vision I'm desperate to see
But fearful to know...
Each second a step deeper
Plunging me into the unknown
Bittersweet anxiety
Clothed in anticipation
And I'm anxious
To move forward,
Afraid to turn back
But unsure where to step;
Another second passes...