tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28727240163813543332009-06-16T09:20:46.558-05:00Who I Amonce winter ends, will springtime show?Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-23171830123974806502009-06-16T09:18:00.001-05:002009-06-16T09:20:46.567-05:00General Tso's Chicken à la Dani<span style="font-weight:bold;">Ingredients</span><br />1 lb chicken thighs, already boned<br />3 eggs beaten with a whisk<br />1/2 cup cornstarch for egg mixture<br />2 tsp cornstarch for sauce mixture<br />5 dried pepper pods (using mexican dried pepper pods is fine)<br />1 & 1/2 tbsp rice vinegar<br />3 tbsp rice wine<br />1 & 1/2 tbsp sugar<br />4 tbsp soy sauce<br />1 and 1/2 tbsp hoisin sauce<br />1/2 tbsp garlic<br />1 tsp grated ginger root<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Step 1 Mixing</span> - In a large bowl, blend 1/2 cup of cornstarch and the pre-beaten eggs using a wire whisk until thoroughly combined. Should be a lemony yellow color at this point. Cut up the chicken pieces (de-boned thigh meat) into bite size pieces (around 6-8 pieces per full thigh piece), then add the chicken to the egg mixture and toss to coat.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Step 2 Mixing</span> - In a small bowl, prepare the sauce mixture by combining 2 tsp cornstarch with the rice wine, rice vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, hoisin sauce, garlic and grated ginger root. For the ginger root, ensure to get fresh ginger root, then cut off the skin of it before grating it with a handheld cheese grater. In a second small bowl, make a duplicate of this exact same mixture using the same amounts and ingredients, but do not combine the 2 mixtures together.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Step 1 Frying</span> - Heat 1-2 inches of peanut oil in a wok to medium-high heat (350-400). You really need a gas stove to get the oil hot enough. Fry the chicken in small batches of around 10-12 pieces at a time until the chicken is lightly browned. Remove the chicken to paper towls on a plate and allow it to stand. Keep frying the chicken in batches until all of it is done.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Step 2 Frying</span> - Drain out the oil and the pieces of coating in the wok until you have only 1-2 tablespoons of oil left. Add the pepper pods to the oil and stir-fry briefly, bringing out the aroma but not burning them (around 60 to 120 seconds). Remove the pepper pods and return the chicken to the wok.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">General's Favorite Sauce</span> - Immediately after adding the chicken, add the sauce mixture to the wok, tossing over the heat until the sauce caramelizes into a glaze (1-3 minutes) over the chicken. After the chicken is entirely coated, then add the second sauce mixture to the wok and heat it through (you would not need to coat the chicken with this mixture, just heating and reducing the sauce a bit for about 2-3 minutes). At this point, remove the chicken and sauce from the heat and re-add the pepper pods to the chicken and sauce mixture.<br /><br />Serve over a bed of white, long grain rice. Should serve approximately 4-6 people.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-2317183012397480650?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-40290213102469312722009-06-16T09:07:00.005-05:002009-06-16T09:17:32.554-05:00Pollo al Chilindrón<span style="font-weight:bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 1/2 pounds chicken thighs<br />1 and 1/2 white onions<br />2 minced garlic cloves<br />1/2 tsp paprika<br />2 large tomatoes<br />1 red bell pepper<br />1 green bell pepper<br />salt and pepper to taste<br />1 package of prosciutto<br />1 shot of Cognac or Marsala<br />Olive oil<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br />Chop the onions and tomatoes. Dice the green and red bell peppers. Tear apart the prosciutto into pieces.<br /><br />Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the chopped onions, minced garlic and chicken until the chicken is browned and the onion turns golden.<br /><br />Pour Cognac or Marsala over the chicken. Add the prosciutto and mix. Add the paprika, some salt and pepper, then mix again. Add the rest of the ingredients, mix well. Cover and simmer on medium heat for around 45 minutes.<br /><br />Serves 6-8 people.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-4029021310246931272?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-59393410324935497382008-12-03T20:38:00.001-06:002008-12-03T20:38:28.623-06:00Never freeNumb, wanting wanting to be dumb<br />Blind with senses heightened<br />Yet dampened<br />Rambling<br />Talking to myself<br />In this self-made hell<br /><br />Eating chocolate instead of substance<br />Drinking acid so it burns me<br />Since I really want to be consumed<br />By some sort of passion<br />Some sort of sensation or embrace<br />Embers only replace<br />The mask that descends<br /><br />No friends, nothing but misguided whining<br />Needing a glimmer<br />Shining<br />Darkness<br />Stark and repressed emotions<br />Salt in this ocean<br />Bitterly swimming<br /><br />Writing a poem while I'm drunk<br />Not really sure anymore<br />Why I am not just out<br />Giving blowjobs as a whore<br />Since I'm not better inside<br />Than those I pretend to be better than<br />Those I deride<br /><br />I'd ride a wave of sin<br />Let the blackness in<br />To a soul that I don't own<br />Where everything is always me<br />Never moving<br />Never doing<br />Never free<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-5939341032493549738?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-49750043740965334292008-11-25T22:06:00.003-06:002008-11-26T09:01:29.494-06:00If I Wake UpI gave my heart away<br />To another person who didn't deserve it<br />Who didn't want it<br />Here I am alone again, fading<br />Watching cars pass<br />A lit cigarette in my hand<br /><br />I walk to the liquor store<br />After another meal by myself<br />Another restaurant familiar and known<br />I ordered meat this time<br />After being a vegetarian for a year<br />Because why should I really care<br /><br />There's a bottle in the fridge<br />Put there tonight<br />Even though it's mid-week<br />And I didn't even used to drink<br /><br />There are grey hairs<br />Sprouting out of my skull<br />I'd pluck them all<br />But my hair is already too thin<br /><br />So I'll get drunk soon<br />Like my father did when I was a kid<br />It won't help; it won't lessen anything<br />I won't be able to sleep better<br />I'll still be alone in the morning<br />If I wake up at all<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-4975004374096533429?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-1934043432973134172008-11-22T20:13:00.001-06:002008-11-22T20:13:45.655-06:00Cheddar Cheese PuffsThis recipe comes from Better Homes and Gardens' "Cream Puffs" recipe, but rather than filling with sweet fillings, I instead change it to have cheddar. It ends up tasting like a pastry dish, good for any time of the day even breakfast.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Ingredients</span><br />1 cup water<br />1/2 cup butter<br />1/8 teaspoon salt<br />1 cup all-purpose flour<br />4 eggs<br />1 1/2 cups of grated sharp cheddar cheese<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br />Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a baking sheet 9 x 15in.<br /><br />In a medium saucepan, stir together water, butter and salt until they boil.<br />Add flour all at once, stirring vigorously until it forms a ball.<br /><br />Remove from heat, then add 1 1/2 cups cheddar cheese. Cool for 10 minutes.<br />Add eggs, one at a time, beating well with a wooden spoon after each.<br /><br />Drop 12 evenly formed heapings of the dough onto the baking sheet.<br />Bake for 25 minutes, then pull out and sprinkle cheddar cheese on top of each. Cook 5 minutes more until the cheese is melted.<br />Remove from the dish and cool.<br /><br />Can chill and reheat for up to 3 days. Serves 3-6.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-193404343297313417?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-72104847660403506792008-11-22T20:10:00.001-06:002008-11-22T20:12:46.054-06:00White LasagneThe recipe is based on the one at <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/White-Lasagne-with-Parmigiano-Besciamella-em-Lasagne-in-Bianco-Em-242032">this location</a>, however, I made a few changes like I always do when making any recipe.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Ingredients</span><br />3/4 cup minced shallots (5-6, peeled, then sliced and minced)<br />1 stick unsalted butter<br />1/2 cup all-purpose flour<br />1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg<br />1/4 teaspoon paprika<br />3 3/4 cups 2% milk<br />1 cup chicken broth (replace with vegetable broth if you are a vegetarian)<br />2 large eggs, lightly beaten<br />1/2 teaspoon sea salt<br />1/2 teaspoon grated black pepper<br />1/2 cup dry Marsala<br />1 to 1.5 cups grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, portion out 1/2 cup separately<br />1/8 cup grated Asiago<br />12 no-boil egg lasagne sheets (usually Barilla flat egg no boil pasta is best, it comes with 16 sheets)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br />Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle of oven.<br /><br />Place shallots and butter into a heavy medium saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring periodically until the shallots are tender. This takes around 3-5 minutes.<br />Add the flour all at once, then reduce heat to low, stirring with a plastic or wooden spoon about 3 minutes.<br />Add the nutmeg and paprika. Increase the heat back to medium temperature, then slowly whisk in milk one cup at a time until blended.<br />Stir in the chicken or vegetable broth until blended. Bring to a boil, whisking with the spoon. Reduce heat to simmer, stirring until the sauce lightly coats the spoon. This is only about 1-2 minutes after reducing to simmer from the boil.<br /><br />Remove from heat and cool until it is only warm rather than hot, re-stirring occasionally. Stir in eggs, Marsala, sea salt, pepper, and 1/2 cup Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.<br /><br />Spread about 1 3/4 cups sauce over bottom of a glass baking dish about 11x8-inch in size. Cover with a layer of 3 lasagne sheets. Place a sprinkling of Parmigiano Reggiano on top of it with about 1/2 cup sauce.<br />Add another layer of 3 sheets and put a sprinkling of Asiago cheese on it with about 1/2 cup sauce.<br />Add another layer of 3 sheets and put the rest of the Asiago on it with about 1/4 cup sauce.<br />Add the last layer of 3 sheets, then top the remaining sauce evenly over the entire dish, then over the sauce put the remaining Parmigiano Reggiano cheese evenly.<br /><br />Bake, uncovered, until browned, around 50 minutes.<br /><br />Cool slightly, then slice into pieces with a knife. The bottom will stick slightly due to the sheets being egg-based, so you likely want to use a fork to get each piece out.<br /><br />Enjoy! Serves around 4-6 people with around 12 slices (2-3 pieces per person).<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-7210484766040350679?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-56611688281856923632008-11-22T20:08:00.001-06:002008-11-22T20:10:28.102-06:00White Chocolate BrowniesBased off of <a href="http://tartelette.blogspot.com/2007/05/white-chocolate-brownies.html">this recipe</a> with some changes.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Ingredients</span><br />6 tablespoons butter<br />8 ounces white chocolate<br />2 eggs<br />1/4 cup sugar<br />1/2 tablespoon vanilla<br />1 cup flour<br />1/2 cup butterscotch chips<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br />Preheat oven to 350°F.<br />Line an 8 inch square baking dish with foil.<br /><br />Melt butter and 4 ounces of white chocolate together in top of double boiler over hot water (alternatively, use a medium saucepan with water under another smaller pan), stirring occasionally until mixed.<br />When melted, remove from heat and add the remaining white chocolate. Stir to blend well. Set aside.<br /><br />Beat the eggs and sugar until pale and thick.<br />Add white chocolate and butter mixture, vanilla and flour. Beat with spoon just until smooth.<br />Add butterscotch chips and mix just until evenly mixed, do not overmix.<br /><br />Pour into prepared pan and bake 25-30 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.<br /><br />Cool out of the oven for about 30 minutes, then cut into squares and refrigerate 1-2 hours before serving. Serves 4-6 people.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-5661168828185692363?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-27552585094072004192008-11-22T20:07:00.000-06:002008-11-22T20:08:03.783-06:00Best Ever Potato Casserole<span style="font-weight:bold;">Ingredients</span><br />1 pound 4 ounce bag of refrigerated hash browns<br />1 stick of semi-melted butter (melt 20-25 seconds in microwave)<br />16 oz sour cream<br />2 cups shredded cheddar cheese<br />1 cup chopped white pearl onions<br />1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup<br />1 tsp paprika<br />1 tsp dried basil<br />1 tablespoon crushed or minced garlic<br />French's French Fried Onions (1/2 to 2/3 large can)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Directions</span><br />Preheat oven to 350°F.<br /><br />Mix together hash browns and butter.<br />Add sour cream, 1 and 1/2 cups cheddar cheese and pearl onions, mix thoroughly.<br />Next, add cream of mushroom soup, garlic, paprika and basil. Again, mix thoroughly.<br /><br />Add frenchs french fried onions, crushing them up and removing any extremely hard bits until the dish is evenly coated and mixed.<br /><br />Cook 30 minutes. Re-stir the dish, then add another layer of cheddar cheese on top (1/2 cup). Cook for another 20-25 minutes, then remove and serve.<br /><br />Serves 4-6 people.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-2755258509407200419?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-63832411539567224212008-09-30T01:45:00.001-05:002008-09-30T01:46:34.740-05:00abjectsqueak squeak squeak...wading wafting waiting<br />water drifting ripe and lifting, rippling<br />onto the shore of abandon wanton want<br />plunged and plunged<br />plundered, plugged<br />grit and grunge<br />detritus<br />dirty<br />done<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-6383241153956722421?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-90140568146407854642008-09-24T08:40:00.002-05:002008-09-24T15:52:00.118-05:00Silver BreezeTake me down into the glow<br />Carry me away <br />Into places I haven't known <br />Through memories <br />Through melodies <br />Dance with me upon this silver breeze<br /><br />Touching you as you touch me <br />Our hands are joined <br />Together, we are synched and meshed<br />Molded visions<br />By precision<br />Confluent streams, no division<br /><br />Wake with me upon the morn<br />Open your golden eyes<br />To see only my face at dawn<br />Trace my heart<br />Taste my skin<br />Kiss me once, twice as you breathe me in<br /><br />I am here within the glow<br />Carried away<br />Into places I've never known<br />Warm memories<br />Soft melodies<br />As we dance upon this silver breeze<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-9014056814640785464?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-88006000250062720772008-09-14T02:09:00.022-05:002008-11-22T20:05:48.119-06:00BlindedYour eyes change color with the light<br />One moment gold; one moment blue<br />Shimmering, simmering<br />I feel so very blessed<br />I wish I could profess<br />This love to you<br /><br />A vision years ago<br />Brought you into my soul<br />I searched and searched to find<br />Someone to match this image in my mind<br />Until I had to let you go<br /><br />Why did fate wait so long?<br />Serenade me with sorrowful songs<br />Let me lose my faith along the way<br />Never believing I'd see your face<br />God, I wish you'd feel the same<br /><br />How I wish you were mine<br />I ache when I gaze into your eyes<br />Yearning, joyous, alive<br />I want to be with you,<br />But blinded by your grace,<br />I turn away<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-8800600025006272077?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-14001020734374120222008-08-05T01:38:00.001-05:002008-08-05T01:38:19.804-05:00two feetsoot dirty foot<br />pounding down<br />down down<br />down onto concrete pavement<br />sidewalk marked<br />colorful chalked<br />hard ground<br /><br />the other foot held high<br />jumping up <br />up up <br />up to the sky<br />azure-filled sun shine<br />with closed eyes<br />tight shut<br /><br />hopscotch<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-1400102073437412022?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-44496781952398555562008-08-05T00:15:00.001-05:002008-08-05T00:15:40.263-05:00Dark Beauty<span style="font-style:italic;">While it might seem strange to say this is a love poem, it is indeed a love poem.</span><br /><br />You are a dark beauty<br />Gloaming<br />A floating reflection<br />An image cast of perfection<br />At last here<br />Rippling, surfacing<br />For this mere mortal earthling<br />To worship<br />As stars blaze to ignite<br />As pinpoints of white<br />Cease to be bright<br />As your blackness fills<br />Kills<br />Thrills<br />The night<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-4449678195239855556?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-31902825639006924122008-08-03T15:44:00.002-05:002008-08-03T15:47:46.523-05:00Finger of Death - short story in progress<span style="font-style:italic; font-weight:bold">I'm working on this horror story. I intend to possibly add more details to describe the surroundings in this first part, but I just wanted reactions on how it is going so far and any suggestions people might have.</span><br /><br />A slick, sticky oiliness pervades my skin as I perspire profusely, making me all the more uncomfortable in this deep, dead tropical heat. I'm not acclimated to such high humidity in my native St. Louis, Missouri. I recline in the village circle, while one of the inhabitants, an elderly man barely dressed with cracks and wrinkles traversing his body, is relaying some folktale or other superstitious nonsense about one of the creatures around here. Madagascar houses some of the most unique prosimians on the planet, which was the impetus for me to take a vacation to this godforsaken hell on earth in the first place.<br /><br />"Aye-aye is death omen. He visit in night and he point his long middle finger to you."<br /><br />Barely stifling a laugh, I inquire back, "He gives you the finger of death you might call it?" Holding up my hand, I point my middle finger directly at the old dude.<br /><br />"Yeaaa, he point finger to you--you assured quick to die."<br /><br />"And this is the sole reason that the creatures are killed? Their numbers have been decimated to where they are nearly extinct. You do realize they are unique to this area and don't live anywhere else in the world?"<br /><br />"He enter to our village in night and bring death to us. We protect ourselves. What other choice have we?" His dark brown eyes look staunchly back at me almost as if he's daring me to find fault with his logic.<br /><br />Unflinchingly returning his gaze, I quip back, "Deforestation is why these creatures are coming into towns. You are taking away their places to live."<br /><br />"My family, my village matter. Your country give help to us and we stop to chop trees," he expressively opens out his hands, indicating this is the end of the matter and there is nothing more he can say or do. This gesture reminds me of how we would shrug for the same type of response back home.<br /><br />Getting up, he beckons me to follow him to my living quarters. Each of the shacks are tiny with yellow, thatched roofs, lending a picturesque quality to the dirty surroundings. I'll be thrilled to finally find some rest. The entire day has been trying, nothing like I'd pictured my trip would turn out to be. Somewhere in my mind, I'd envisioned majestic plants with colorful animals hanging from tree branches and people who stepped right out of the pages of National Geographic magazine. The onerous heat and lack of civilization (ergo, no Starbucks or even a Seven Eleven) hadn't been gathered into the equation. I'm not a seasoned traveler and I doubt I'll make the mistake of picking a non-touristy spot again. Future vacation plans shall all include a spa and a bar with ice cold drinks awaiting nearby.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-3190282563900692412?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-82353685686255971762008-07-22T17:32:00.000-05:002008-07-23T04:34:44.516-05:00WordsWords cannot describe how I feel<br />Weak, hackneyed, incomplete<br />None of them real<br /><br />The beauty and the pain<br />The love rising up<br />When I cry out your name<br /><br />Your kiss, the curve of your lips<br />The flush of warmth divine<br />Only for me, only mine<br /><br />I had waited and waited, and waited some more<br />For a perfect love, someone to adore<br />Until I could wait no more<br /><br />So, I trashed and burned my desires<br />Quit being a child consumed by fires<br />A child with stories, hiding, a liar<br /><br />When the ashes cooled and the true me remained<br />I could be myself, no longer empty<br />No longer chained<br /><br />Only then could I really see you<br />Without expectation or rejection<br />I accept that you love me, too<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-8235368568625597176?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-36200650953850524572008-07-22T00:31:00.002-05:002008-07-23T04:33:04.800-05:00The Great DivideFrom the depths<br />From deep, dark down<br />Dirty and earthen bound<br />I cry<br /><br />In this hole<br />Seeping, yawing<br />Arms clutching and mauling<br />Inside<br /><br />On the edge<br />Slipping, falling<br />Creatures crawl, claw, calling<br />Then hide<br /><br />Dread omen<br />A little crow<br />Cawing out to and fro<br />He flies<br /><br />You look up<br />Far off, up high<br />Above casting soft light<br />Stars shine<br /><br />Open hands<br />Unable to touch<br />Unwelcome and unloved<br />We die<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-3620065095385052457?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-72249565149559210402008-07-20T14:47:00.004-05:002008-07-20T15:01:20.867-05:00AliveI feel content when I'm not content<br />Hurting too much<br />Mentally crushed<br />Pushed, shoved, bent<br />Roughed a bit up<br /><br />Not the physical pain<br />This body means nothing<br />A vessel to spill<br />For blood to fill<br />Bones and skin<br />Nothing to me<br />But what holds me within<br /><br />My mind and spirit, my soul<br />Flies on wings<br />Listening to the flutter<br />Sounds pulsating out<br />Blinking, tingling<br />Delighting in agony divine<br />Other people's pain heightening mine<br /><br />Words witty and sharp<br />Laughing like a lark<br />Frighteningly cold, intentionally bold<br />Simply to see the confusion<br />The daggers arise from such beautiful eyes<br />Flashing, finally alive<br />They glare with hatred into mine<br /><br />So I push this dark out of my skin<br />Sinister intentions<br />Malicious purpose<br />Angelic demons breaking the surface<br />Then squirming back in<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-7224956514955921040?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-43157093712431238512008-07-18T23:21:00.001-05:002008-07-18T23:21:32.896-05:00Awash and AglowI spot you from afar<br />Yet you haven't a clue<br />How amazing you are<br />In this loud, crowded room<br />Your grace shines, shimmers out<br />Setting the place aglow<br /><br />High angels swoop and swoon<br />To touch you as they fall<br />Clamoring to be close<br />Each vie for attention<br />Screech, scream--you don't see them<br />Your eyes are linked with mine<br /><br />Perfection does not exist<br />But for the breath released<br />By your lips<br /><br />You whisper deep into me<br />Warmth trickles down and through<br />My open throat<br /><br />Full and whole, gulping, wanton<br />Awash with your pure love<br />I drown<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-4315709371243123851?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-72540344617937244852008-07-11T04:35:00.002-05:002008-07-12T03:19:08.492-05:00Lodging for the Nightdesolate, dull and dreary in this courtyard dim<br />noises eerie of scraping and clicking<br />scurry on the periphery, creatures slinking<br />into the shade, sensing the need to escape<br />to hide far away<br /><br />forbidden mysteries, secret sins<br />exchanged by the dime<br />but his appetites aren't quite the norm<br />nor his chilled, aphotic grin<br />normally chatty, she stays silent<br /><br />movement black and blurred<br />sudden and grim<br />she's pushed up to the cold wall (so she don't fall)<br />pressed hard into the rough bricks<br />again and again and again<br /><br />left alone now to be found<br />solitary and motionless, soon a large crowd<br />gathers round to gape<br />at internal organs<br />fleshed and splayed out<br /><br />the price paid to earn<br />her lodging for the night<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-7254034461793724485?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-84101857721141423052008-07-01T22:47:00.001-05:002008-07-01T22:47:40.521-05:00The DoorPush it open a crack<br />Gawk<br />Hold up a tiny hand<br />Dust and light gathers through<br />Sweeping out from the room<br /><br />Heave hard against the sturdy frame<br />A wooden door<br />Neglected<br />Hinges squeak<br />A rusty scream<br /><br />Scared, fall onto the floorboards<br />Listening for sounds within<br />Sounds without<br />Sounds up and down<br />Any notice or shout<br /><br />Nothing<br /><br />Silence<br /><br />Grin, push the door a bit again<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-8410185772114142305?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-31632200620082691052008-06-29T02:36:00.000-05:002008-07-01T16:37:40.577-05:00TwilightCalm, quiet, displaced<br />Gentle embers fade<br />Away into the stillness<br />Uncertain and unwilling<br />Within slow, slowing, chilling<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">as light is abating<br />unfolding space</span><br /><br />Closing, singed and dazed<br />Each flame gone, replaced<br />By comfort; by harsh neglect<br />No life left just circumspect<br />Discarded, dead reflections<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">majestic, separate<br />imperfections</span><br /><br />An incantation<br />As we disappear<br />Bring back the life to us here<br />Lift up our souls so we see<br />Another dawn, please set us free<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">twilight shadows echo<br />captivity</span><br /><br />All is lost, lost and forlorn<br />Knowing this, we still move on<br />A band of nomads<br />Misfits, miscreants<br />Wandering amidst the mist<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">locked into this time, stopped<br />we must exist</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-3163220062008269105?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-65925026880219816802008-06-16T04:02:00.001-05:002008-06-16T04:02:43.667-05:00The Second RiddleI am the malcontent<br />Here I am<br />Tired, spent<br />Worthless, null<br />Void and dull<br />Languishing, infertile soul<br /><br />A cipher filled<br />Dark matter<br />Meaningless and chilled<br />Killing, killed<br />By your laughter<br />But not your apathy<br />When you refuse to see me<br /><br />I will take your soul<br />Spit it out whole<br />Tear away your face<br />When you run<br />From the blackness<br />From the pain<br />From your own shame<br /><br />Pitched, reeling<br />No ground<br />No ceiling<br />Not even the sky<br />Nowhere to hide<br />Just empty space<br /><br />I am coming for you<br />I wait in the shadows<br />Lurking on the ledge<br />I live in these surfaces<br />Of blades that cut<br />Waiting to slit you up<br /><br />Into your dreams<br />I will enter unseen<br />Take out all the light<br />Until you cannot believe<br />In anything<br />Not even me<br /><br />Who could I be?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-6592502688021981680?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-72407493823977103302008-06-09T01:37:00.002-05:002008-06-09T01:48:25.446-05:00FallingInto the abyss<br />A cavern endlessness<br />Filled with emptiness<br />Lingering, then going down<br /><br />Sad...sad...das..asd<br />Words jumbled, meaning tumbled<br />I am lost, fumbled, crumpled<br />I can't be found<br /><br />Chilled, deep water<br />Fall, fall, falling<br />Calling your name<br />As I forget my own<br /><br />Floating<br />Luminous, glowing<br />Flowing<br />No longer knowing with skin puffed out<br /><br />Drowned<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I know what this poem sounds like, but then I also know it can be interpreted more than one way for what I intended to mean. It isn't just intended to have the physical meaning of the words. I am trying to strip away at words to get to the heart of meaning and paint a picture in this one as well as a few others recently. Hopefully, it came out okay.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-7240749382397710330?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-91351522309136699722008-06-02T01:47:00.001-05:002008-06-02T01:47:16.513-05:00Emotion Whore"Hello, is Dani there?"<br /><br />You call me up out of the blue<br />It's been over four years<br />Since I heard from you<br />Just want to see how I'm doin'<br /><br />You broke my trust repeatedly<br />Deceived me; stole from me<br />Despite all the pain, I let you in<br />To a place I usually hide<br /><br />I have thought of you <br />Less and less, though<br />Letting you go, not wanting to know<br />If you were still alive<br /><br />Yeah, I can't help you almost died<br />The other night had to be hospitalized<br />Due to low T-cell counts<br />And drinking your guts out<br /><br />Oh, you're taking your meds again<br />Wonder how long that'll last?<br />Hope you pop some anti-psychotics<br />With those antibiotics<br /><br />Great to hear you feel fine now<br />Even if you live day by day<br />Worried another person<br />Will break into your place<br /><br />(Wow, too bad to hear some mugger took all your cash from your last paycheck that would have paid your rent so you could not get kicked out)<br /><br />I would love to love you still<br />But I know you too well<br />You don't deserve to be my friend <br />You would rather pretend than be real<br /><br />Intimacy isn't easy for me<br />I can't give you anything in return<br />You will only break me apart<br />Watch as I wobble off without a heart<br /><br />Sure, call me again, call me all you like<br />I'll answer but I'll be all right<br />You can't get into my life<br />Since there's nothing for you here anymore<br />I'm not an emotion whore like you<br /><br />"Hey, I better let you go as I'm kinda busy, Kevin."<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-9135152230913669972?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2872724016381354333.post-59441317154149012812008-06-02T01:40:00.001-05:002008-06-02T01:40:46.255-05:00beyond meI want to believe<br />in anything beyond me<br />inviolate and strong<br />always right<br />never wrong<br /><br />I want to trust<br />flowing with light, with love<br />find beauty in everything<br />the promise<br />of sunny spring<br /><br />I want to hope<br />to dream of neverland<br />where I can be a child again<br />free, running through the sand<br />playing by the sea<br /><br />I want to wish<br />to feel your soft kiss<br />to sit outside in the sun<br />never turning red<br />golden, beautiful, young<br /><br />I want to live<br /><br />I can live here with you<br />grow old<br />my friend, my soul<br />singing the days into the night<br />until we both turn in<br />then turn out the light<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2872724016381354333-5944131715414901281?l=miraenda.blogspot.com'/></div>Tristan Wallacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06390496032903700569miraenda@gmail.com0