Love is caring....

Love is caring,
Love is sharing.
Love even hurts sometimes.

Giving up someone you love
Just because,
You know its better, is love.

I've been through it,
To bad it doesn't come with instructions,
Because sometimes its hard.

Love is laughing & crying,
Love is living & dying.

Its the best and worst thing you'll ever go through
It's wonderful
It's beautiful
Love is the most horrifying experience ever.

Notes: goodness, I wonder what had happened when I wrote this. Its so depressing. There's no date on the page, but by the handwriting, I'm guessing I wrote this in early high school.

English III - 6th period
Nov 1, 1993

Life

Life is so precious.
It is simply a dust devil in the wind.
Yet we want to grow up so fast,
Only to die and be forgotten.

Is there nothing else,
But to live and die?

Life is so precious.
Should we not learn to love,
Take our time,
And stop and smell the roses?

Is there nothing else,
But to love and live?

Life is so precious.
If we learn to love,
Will not our life mean more,
Than before?

There is so much else to life,
Love is what it worth living.

Life is so precious.
So strong and hard,
Yet so fragile and weak.
Are we able to balance between the two?

There is so much to life.
Are we able to be what is needed by others?

Life is so precious.
So busy is everyone,
Letting life fly by.
Is there nothing we can do to slow it down?

There is so much to life,
Can we choose what is important?

Life is so precious.
How can we just throw it away?
How can we assume that it is cheap?
How can we ruin something so sweet?

There is much in life,
How can we put a price on it?

There is little sweet life left,
Don’t throw it away,
Don’t let it get away,

Because you can never get it back.

I wonder what all I was thinking about as I wrote this. Love, perhaps? Seems I thought about love a lot back then.

"My", no, "Somebody else's Green Hand"

It's green.
It's wrinkly.
It's almost ugly.
But think of the places this hand could have gone: Europe, Asia, South America, the moon.
Think of the places it one day may go: Mars or universes away.
Someday this hand could save a life, or bring a life into this world. This hand may be the one to shake the hand of another or sign a paper for a peace agreement. OR this hand could kill, hurt, declare war. Each pair of hands in this world has a choice... good or bad... right or wrong... which will your hands choose?

Think about it.

You must choose one. By not choosing, your choice will be made; will your hands help or hender, love or hate? Each pair of hands will do one or the other. By doing nothing, no good is done, and if its not good... it's bad. Passive hands do nothing, thus resulting in wrong. Will your hands be passive and let wrong continue? OR will your hands be active and stop the hurt and pain in this world. Do not allow your hands to become passive, but active. Let your hand become the hand to stop a war, to help the hurt. You must choose what your hand will become.

-Rachael Anconetani, Sr. '95

ARGH.... 2nd Valentine poem got posted on http://youngernews.blogspot.com

Oops.

Wow, its been ages since I've posted anything here.

I was sorting some old papers this evening and found a few poems I wrote while in Jr. High and High School. I thought I'd like to have them some place more "permanent", so I'll type and post them here. I'll post one or two a day, at least every few days.

First up is a Valentines card I wrote, but apparently never gave. Or I gave copies... the card is on green paper. The paper does have edges that say it was tracker feed paper. If you don't know what that is, that's what printers used before ink jet printers were invented. The pages were attached to each other, end to end, and there were skinny strips on each side with regular holes that the printer could grab to pull the paper through. The pages and the edges were perforated to come apart easily. Here's the poem:

Dear Love,

My heart beats for you,
You are my life.

I see only you,
Among the many others.

I hear only your voice,
Among the many I hear.

Please be my one and only,
My Valentine.

Love,
Your True One

My hubby commented: that's way too much commitment for a high schooler. I must agree.