Phone Call

Phone Call

Missed call from Papa Bear

Call me, the text said

Clocked out

Walking home 

Hey what's up Dad?

Are you done with everything today?

*Deja vu*

I've had this conversation before

276 days ago

The day my world stopped

I know what's coming and yet

I'm still shocked when it's revealed

...hospital...awhile...passed away...morning

What!? 

This can't be happening again

*Deja vu*

Walking home alone

Darkness surrounds me

suffocating the light of the world

my world stopped

can't breathe

...the circle of life

better place...

it's over

not even a year

and they're both gone

the first drop escapes

floodgates open

feelings, emotions

I want to bury, want it to stop

hurting

*Deja vu* 

it hasn't stopped, won't stop

...gets easier

not yet

that call brought it all back

that cold snowy December night

one day shy of two decades

same lost little girl

what's a granddaughter without grandparents? 

September 18, 2014

I'm not sure if this is done, it's all too raw. But hopefully it does them justice. I miss them both, I still can't believe my dad lost them just 276 days apart. Can't believe I lost them. However the scales are not unbalanced. As we loose, God gains. And today He gained a great man. I love you Grandpa. 

In Like

I found this gem buried in my Jerusalem book and I figured why not share it. Enjoy!

I fell in love somehow in

that semester abroad

something magical occurred and I want to

yell it to all the world.

obscure all other noise 

until I get the words past my lips

be silent as I tell you that I

really fell in love with Jerusalem and I miss 

every single person I met

there in the Holy Land-especially 

the one man I fell in like with. 

April 26, 2014

November 16 2009

Today made me think of this poem and I have to admit its a 'tomorrow' day. I hope that one day I will feel royal and needed again.

November 16 2009

I don’t know what this feeling is

Frightened, alone, used, mocked, forgotten

No that was yesterday

Today I feel

Angry, upset, bitter, hardened, spiteful

Tomorrow I know exactly how I will feel

Tired, haunted, regretful, empty, lonely

Will the sun rise again?

Can I really feel

Happy, joyful, accepted, wanted, loved?

No I’m too far gone for that.

But there’s this voice telling me I’m

Special, royalty, beautiful, talented, needed

Maybe today can be a good day

Maybe I am good enough

November 16 2009

Me

In my high school poetry class we had an assignment to write a poem about ourselves (sticking to a specific style of course). This is me, well junior me, hope you like it!

Aubrianna

direct, cautious, thoughtful, confident

daughter of God

who loves puzzles, the moon and inside jokes

who is afraid of eternity, heights and heartache

who want to see the end of time, the world

from the clouds and a man who would fall for her

resident of a world her own

who is missed by her shadow crayon

Hockett

November 13, 2010

House of Cards

This is from an old relationship that ended because of those skeletons in the closet. 

I thought it was all real,

I thought our relationship was secure

Apparently I was wrong

-so wrong-

There were sturdy beams

Bright shiny windows,

Rooms full of joyful memories

Plans to expand for the future

I’d checked the blueprints for any flaws

The construction seemed perfectly sound

I didn’t think to look in the closet for skeletons

If I had…well it probably wouldn’t change a thing

I thought it was a house that would stand

Stand against anything

How could I not? I laid the brick and mortar myself

But sure enough one tiny gust of wind

Sent it all tumbling down around me

All along it was a carefully crafted

House of cards.

July 30, 2013

Superheroes

One day I woke up and realized I didn't have any poems about superheroes, and that was a travesty. So this is what happened. 

Superheroes

Some superheroes are on television or in comic books

They have superpowers and epic battles

Fighting off bad guys with left and right hooks

Everyone is safe under their watch

Some are devoted enough to even wear tights

But my hero isn’t like that

His name won’t shine in bright lights

He isn’t coming out with a blockbuster hit

Young boys won’t dress up as him for Halloween

My hero isn’t a knight either, from a fairytale

He isn’t on a quest to kill the evil queen

But that does not mean he isn’t powerful

Or that he doesn’t protect me from evil men

He is always there for me

Even when I ignore him again and again

I sometimes feel helplessly isolated and alone

But I know in my heart that he is right beside me

I can’t see him, but I can feel his loving embrace

Reminding me there is so much more I can be

He may not be in movies or comics

But I read about him everyday

He suffered and died so that I might live

He is the bread of life, the only true way

I love my hero with all my heart and soul

No one can take away my faith in his love

I know who and what he really is

A savior of us all sent from heaven above.

November 9, 2013

Writer's Block

I haven't posted in a while, I haven't written in a long time truth be told. I just haven't been able to get my feelings on paper. This situation reminded me of a poem I wrote when I should have been writing an essay... ;) I hope you can all relate to my form of procrastination.

Writer’s Block

Okay life just got hard, crazy hard

My hands are poised over the keyboard

And nothing will come out

Why can’t life be more like poetry

All I want to do is talk myself into circles

Climb through a jungle of metaphors

Stare down the idea of perfection

Until it can no longer stand tall

I want to choose my words

For me, not for an evil red pen

I can’t take this structure

Any longer, I need to break through

I want to imagine this cell away

The bars no longer hold me hostage

I can’t live the life they want me to

My strengths can’t lift the weights

They place in my path

No matter how hard I struggle

They simply won’t budge

Why can’t writing be more like poetry

Words shouldn't fit in a box

But spread their wings and fly

High above the fences and expectations

How do I conquer this block

Do I even want to stumble over it

Probably not, then I would have

No more camouflage to hide behind

I would be forced to stand nose to nose

With a certain overarching fear

Of failing

Of never being good enough to

Achieve that perfect mark

I mean what’s the point of trying

If the statistics point to failure

Why can’t the words flow the same way

Aubrianna Hockett

March 2, 2014