My hero doesn't wear a cape,
doesn't fly through the skies,
though in my eyes,
he's forever Mr. Incredible.
Who is this man, you ask?
Who hides behind a shy mask?
He's not a super hero, dear.
He's my brother!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Wynton & Wycliffe: A Conversation
Creative Writing class: ignore this.
Jazz II! I'm hoping that this will work in the school computers. This is definitely worth watching. :)
Monday, May 17, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
4-10-10
In the dark embrace
of a quiet bedroom,
a girl is weeping,
sobs muffled by her pillow.
In the dark embrace
of a quiet bedroom,
a girl is weeping,
sobs muffled by her pillow.
Her heart in tatters,
she pieces the remains
all wrong,
and is left with a bigger mess than she started with.
Tears slide down acne bitten cheeks,
and she whispers,
"Where did I go wrong?"
Nothing is right,
up is now down,
north turned into south.
her life is a snow globe:
Picked up by unfriendly hands,
tossed and shaken about.
The blizzard has blinded her eyes,
and she stumbles alone through the storm.
Cold and alone
a girl is haunted by the face of her love.
He cannot be hers
Even though she needs him.
Hurting him once,
twice was bad enough.
Thrice would be too much
for a human soul to bare.
She finally comes to terms
with being single.
Serious relationships are overrated,
when one wants to have fun
in high school.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Update!
Hellowz :)
I think I should just make a mention that I'm working on a novel for creative writing, so I probably won't be posting anything new until the first of May... I'm not sure, so keep checking in!
This novel is killing me. Must write 1,667 words everyday to get to 50k by the end of the month. Oh boy.. :/
Wish me luck! :P
I think I should just make a mention that I'm working on a novel for creative writing, so I probably won't be posting anything new until the first of May... I'm not sure, so keep checking in!
This novel is killing me. Must write 1,667 words everyday to get to 50k by the end of the month. Oh boy.. :/
Wish me luck! :P
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The Best Part of Me
The Best Part of Me
3-28-10
Gregarious green windows to the soul,
Framed with long,
Black stilettos.
Emeralds reflect
The stars and the red glow
Of Mars.
Curious about the universe
And the shining mysteries
Hiding in the farthest reaches
Of outer space—but space is immeasurable:
‘farthest reaches’ do not exist.
Green stars encircle the
Powerful, unforgiving, light-capturing
Black holes.
These beautiful gems
Surrounded by a relentless red
Sea of fire.
Relief cannot be found;
writhing in endless agony.
Eyes of jade sealed shut
With the residue from this horrific,
Chlorinated-water burn.
The searing pain
Of a thousand shards of glass,
Clawing at my eyes.
Closed; open,
The burning is unceasing.
Anxiety builds:
will the windows to the soul
Become murky and dim;
The clarity of sight become a thing of the past?
Cowering in anguish,
As the inferno rages on.
The firestorm decreases
From drug-induced sleep.
As the sun rises over the hills,
Clarity returns.
Scanning pages of a book
Reading black notes on paper.
Clear whirl pools
Spill over black lashes
After an exhausted yawn.
Rivers stream down marble cheeks.
From lack of sleep,
Not sorrow.
Smiling as life strides past
Gregarious green windows to the soul
Framed with long,
Black stilettos.
3-28-10
Gregarious green windows to the soul,
Framed with long,
Black stilettos.
Emeralds reflect
The stars and the red glow
Of Mars.
Curious about the universe
And the shining mysteries
Hiding in the farthest reaches
Of outer space—but space is immeasurable:
‘farthest reaches’ do not exist.
Green stars encircle the
Powerful, unforgiving, light-capturing
Black holes.
These beautiful gems
Surrounded by a relentless red
Sea of fire.
Relief cannot be found;
writhing in endless agony.
Eyes of jade sealed shut
With the residue from this horrific,
Chlorinated-water burn.
The searing pain
Of a thousand shards of glass,
Clawing at my eyes.
Closed; open,
The burning is unceasing.
Anxiety builds:
will the windows to the soul
Become murky and dim;
The clarity of sight become a thing of the past?
Cowering in anguish,
As the inferno rages on.
The firestorm decreases
From drug-induced sleep.
As the sun rises over the hills,
Clarity returns.
Scanning pages of a book
Reading black notes on paper.
Clear whirl pools
Spill over black lashes
After an exhausted yawn.
Rivers stream down marble cheeks.
From lack of sleep,
Not sorrow.
Smiling as life strides past
Gregarious green windows to the soul
Framed with long,
Black stilettos.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Old Shores 3-23-10
Old Shores
Less than a year ago, everything had been perfect. Then high school happened, and my friendships were changed.
My first time to Disneyland, to Six Flags, to California. My first time seeing the ocean. The MJH Jazz Band Trip.
Though he wasn't in jazz band, he had come with us. He sat on the bus with me for 12 hours. He had loved me...
I bounced in my isle seat as my excitement became unbearable. We were on our way to perform on the Pier at Santa Monica. It was overcast, but my yellow jacket brightened up the beach.
I nervously stuck my toes into the sand. It was cool, both in texture and temperature.
My floppy, yellow sunhat complimented my all black swimming suit as Madeleine and I walked toward the waves. We dodged them, then let the water swell around our ankles. It was freezing! A cheeky seagull found its way into my bag and started dragging my white sunglasses across the sand.
Madeleine approached a fearless seagull with a bit of granola bar in her outstretched hand, and laughed when the seagull's beak touched her palm.
...I wish I could go back
Ms. Sides' comment: It seems as if days were brighter then. As if something has been lost. As if an innocence has been lost. I thought this was very true...
Less than a year ago, everything had been perfect. Then high school happened, and my friendships were changed.
My first time to Disneyland, to Six Flags, to California. My first time seeing the ocean. The MJH Jazz Band Trip.
Though he wasn't in jazz band, he had come with us. He sat on the bus with me for 12 hours. He had loved me...
I bounced in my isle seat as my excitement became unbearable. We were on our way to perform on the Pier at Santa Monica. It was overcast, but my yellow jacket brightened up the beach.
I nervously stuck my toes into the sand. It was cool, both in texture and temperature.
My floppy, yellow sunhat complimented my all black swimming suit as Madeleine and I walked toward the waves. We dodged them, then let the water swell around our ankles. It was freezing! A cheeky seagull found its way into my bag and started dragging my white sunglasses across the sand.
Madeleine approached a fearless seagull with a bit of granola bar in her outstretched hand, and laughed when the seagull's beak touched her palm.
...I wish I could go back
Ms. Sides' comment: It seems as if days were brighter then. As if something has been lost. As if an innocence has been lost. I thought this was very true...
Questions in the Heart of a Thrower: 3-18-10
Questions in the Heart of a Thrower
Am I too curvy, too muscly, for boys to like me?
Why do they look right past me?
Am I beautiful?
Why don't my best friends
ask me to come along
since I always make sure they
feel included every time?
Why do I always feel
like everyone in the world
is my friend
when I don't even know who they are?
Why do I see the world so differently?
What happened to the Mayans?
Where does my train of thought originate?
Do people watch me and laugh
behind their hands as I do something ridiculous?
Why am I unable to control my eating?
Why do I continue eating after finishing a massive dinner?
Will I ever get any answers
once this javelin flies from my hand?
Am I too curvy, too muscly, for boys to like me?
Why do they look right past me?
Am I beautiful?
Why don't my best friends
ask me to come along
since I always make sure they
feel included every time?
Why do I always feel
like everyone in the world
is my friend
when I don't even know who they are?
Why do I see the world so differently?
What happened to the Mayans?
Where does my train of thought originate?
Do people watch me and laugh
behind their hands as I do something ridiculous?
Why am I unable to control my eating?
Why do I continue eating after finishing a massive dinner?
Will I ever get any answers
once this javelin flies from my hand?
Mark: 3-18-10
Mark
"Lights out!" Linda hollered up the stairs, seeing the sliver of a flashlight beam shining under Mark's door.
The light went out immediately, accompanied by the snap of a hard cover book closing and being set on the floor.
Linda rolled her eyes and returned to the computer where she was working on a novel.
Mark was listening intently for the creak of the third stair from the top as his mom came up to scold him. It never came. It was 11:30, and he had to be to school before the sun was up for early morning jazz band.
****
When the alarm went off at 5:30, Mark's eyes flashed open. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. It should be dark...I shouldn't be able to see anything..." He thought drowsily. He opened his eyes once more, blinking rapidly at the clarity of his room. He rolled over, stepped out of bed, and saw a red-orange splotch through the floor.
Mark reached out to touch the splotch, and gasped when he saw his hand. It was red, too. Infrared? Mark thought, absolutely alarmed.
"MOM!?" He yelled in a panic, running down the stairs, watching his mother's orange splotch bounce in his vision...
"Lights out!" Linda hollered up the stairs, seeing the sliver of a flashlight beam shining under Mark's door.
The light went out immediately, accompanied by the snap of a hard cover book closing and being set on the floor.
Linda rolled her eyes and returned to the computer where she was working on a novel.
Mark was listening intently for the creak of the third stair from the top as his mom came up to scold him. It never came. It was 11:30, and he had to be to school before the sun was up for early morning jazz band.
****
When the alarm went off at 5:30, Mark's eyes flashed open. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. It should be dark...I shouldn't be able to see anything..." He thought drowsily. He opened his eyes once more, blinking rapidly at the clarity of his room. He rolled over, stepped out of bed, and saw a red-orange splotch through the floor.
Mark reached out to touch the splotch, and gasped when he saw his hand. It was red, too. Infrared? Mark thought, absolutely alarmed.
"MOM!?" He yelled in a panic, running down the stairs, watching his mother's orange splotch bounce in his vision...
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
I Never Realized: Draft 2
I Never Realized
It’s February 1, 2010 and
I never realized
how much I love this world
With its up’s and down’s
We smile and frown
Life is like space
So immense, fast-paced,
Limitless, with jewels of
Friendships that sparkle like
Diamonds
I never realized
How much I love being me
With my big eyes, big grin
Big feet, and big personality.
I never realized
How fantastic my snort is
Until I saw the grins and laughter
It spread to all who heard it.
I never realized
How much I loved my friends
Until we were separated by high school
Now things will never be the same
I never realized
How I held that group together
The kind of glue I was
I never realized how much they needed me
Until it was too late to go back.
Too late to change the past.
I never realized
How much I love hugs
Until there was no one there
to hold me close
I never realized
How much I’ve changed
Since 9th grade with my immaturity
My body has changed
But my mind is the same—twisted, confusing, fantastic
Different.
I never realized
How important it is
To listen
When someone needs your help
When they’re on the edge
Ready to jump.
I know now how much people depend
On one another
To survive.
I never realized
How much I loved
And needed
My brother
Until he almost went away
For two years.
Then life happened—he stayed home.
I never realized
How much I love music
Until I learned how it worked
And how to make it work for me
If I just don’t let myself
Give up.
I never knew
How much a book could do
To waste away the unfilled time
Until I only had unfilled
Time.
I never realized
How many ways one could
Perceive space
And time.
Interchangeable
Unchangeable
Unstoppable
My space-time continuum
And destiny are changed
whenever someone
Enters my life
For better or worse.
I never realized
How much I want to travel
Back in time
To correct what I’ve done
Wrong.
Make sure I do it right this time.
I never realized
How words can damage
Harm, injure,
Kill a person inside
And outside.
I know I need to be more cautious
So I don’t hurt anybody
Ever again.
I never realized
How sick I am of hurting people
Until I looked behind and saw
The damage left by the wake
Of my passing.
I never realized
How much I love
To hold a person close
and feel their warmth in my arms
I never realized
How much I write
When the emotions being
To surge
I never realized
How I can’t hold back
When I get started
Nothing can stop me.
Don’t stop me.
It’s February 1, 2010 and
I never realized
how much I love this world
With its up’s and down’s
We smile and frown
Life is like space
So immense, fast-paced,
Limitless, with jewels of
Friendships that sparkle like
Diamonds
I never realized
How much I love being me
With my big eyes, big grin
Big feet, and big personality.
I never realized
How fantastic my snort is
Until I saw the grins and laughter
It spread to all who heard it.
I never realized
How much I loved my friends
Until we were separated by high school
Now things will never be the same
I never realized
How I held that group together
The kind of glue I was
I never realized how much they needed me
Until it was too late to go back.
Too late to change the past.
I never realized
How much I love hugs
Until there was no one there
to hold me close
I never realized
How much I’ve changed
Since 9th grade with my immaturity
My body has changed
But my mind is the same—twisted, confusing, fantastic
Different.
I never realized
How important it is
To listen
When someone needs your help
When they’re on the edge
Ready to jump.
I know now how much people depend
On one another
To survive.
I never realized
How much I loved
And needed
My brother
Until he almost went away
For two years.
Then life happened—he stayed home.
I never realized
How much I love music
Until I learned how it worked
And how to make it work for me
If I just don’t let myself
Give up.
I never knew
How much a book could do
To waste away the unfilled time
Until I only had unfilled
Time.
I never realized
How many ways one could
Perceive space
And time.
Interchangeable
Unchangeable
Unstoppable
My space-time continuum
And destiny are changed
whenever someone
Enters my life
For better or worse.
I never realized
How much I want to travel
Back in time
To correct what I’ve done
Wrong.
Make sure I do it right this time.
I never realized
How words can damage
Harm, injure,
Kill a person inside
And outside.
I know I need to be more cautious
So I don’t hurt anybody
Ever again.
I never realized
How sick I am of hurting people
Until I looked behind and saw
The damage left by the wake
Of my passing.
I never realized
How much I love
To hold a person close
and feel their warmth in my arms
I never realized
How much I write
When the emotions being
To surge
I never realized
How I can’t hold back
When I get started
Nothing can stop me.
Don’t stop me.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Vacation
Vacation
Chapter One
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” asked AnnaLynn, giving her husband a glare that could’ve stopped a stampede of rhinos.
This so-called “vacation” had been Paul’s idea from the very beginning. He had planned for the family to stay in California over the children’s two week Christmas—or to be politically correct—Winter Break. They had packed their bathing suits, shorts, and suntan lotion, ready for two full weeks of fun in the sun.
It had taken two days to get to California from Salt Lake City. Their brand new Ford F-150 had broken down in the middle of Nevada, miles from any form of civilization. Luckily, Kayla had packet her scooter. She set it up at lightning speed, and being six years old, had insisted that Paul wear her Barbie helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and wrist guards.
AnnaLynn almost wet herself from laughing as Paul propelled himself down the deserted highway, decked out in pink and struggling to keep his pants on his waist. The family vacation photo album was sure to be full of pages titled “Say No to Crack!”
The news was not good in behalf of the truck. Something had happened with the transmission, and the radiator had pulled an Old Faithful. It would take several weeks and almost $2,000 dollars to get things up and running again. Paul refused to pay for it; calling the dealership they had purchased the truck from, and insisted that they pay for it because it had only been one week since purchase, so their inspectors were not doing their jobs correctly. The dealership had consented after several hours and “Hold, please”-es. They also agreed to pay for the rental car to get them the rest of the way to California.
Much to Anna’s surprise, they were given a Cadillac Escalade. They transferred their luggage into the trunk, strapped in baby Joe’s car seat, and ushered the two girls into the back row of seats. Danielle, who was almost sixteen, shoved her earbuds in before Paul had even started the engine.
The family rolled out of Elko with their new set of wheels at 6 pm, already behind schedule. It was sure to be a long drive, and Danielle needed driving hours to get her license, and this was her chance to finish up. Paul was sent back with Kayla while his oldest child adjusted the seat so she could reach the pedals and see over the dashboard at the same time. Danielle plugged her iPod into the stereo and selected her Ella Fitzgerald playlist.
The sun was beginning to set as Ella’s deep vibrato emanated from the speakers. Joe began snoring softly in his car seat, and Paul slept with his face pressed against the window, since Kayla had stretched across the back seat, fast asleep.
“Honey, we haven’t talked in a very long time.” AnnaLynn said quietly.
“Yeah…” Danielle said distractedly, signaling and changing lanes. After a long paused, she said, “Mom, I’m worried about Katie.”
“What?” AnnaLynn sat up, alarmed, “Why?”
“I think… Mom, I think Eric…” She swallowed, her voice broke as she continued, “I think Eric is abusing her.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, “Mom, the other night she came over to help me with our calculus homework, and she had bad bruises all over her neck and arms. Her lip was cut, and her hips hurt. I think Eric beat her.”
“Eric is her boyfriend? Eric Winlap?”
“Yeah. They’ve been dating for about a year. Mom, what do I do? What if he kills her?” The panic was making her voice rise in pitch.
“Ssshh…calm down. It’s okay. Did she tell you that he hit her?”
“No! She flat out denied it!” Danielle was sobbing as silently as she could so she wouldn’t wake the baby. “Mom, I can’t see.”
“Pull over, sweetie. I’ll drive.” AnnaLynn’s heart was breaking for her daughter.
Mother and daughter traded places quickly, closing the doors as softly as they could. Danielle curled up in a ball and laid her head down on the arm rest between the seats. AnnaLynn reached behind the seat without taking her eyes off of the road and pulled a pillow into the front seat.
“Danielle, here’s a pillow. Sleep. Everything will be alright. I promise.”
Danielle couldn’t think of a reply, so she laid there with her eyes wide, tears dripping sideways down her face, leaving a growing wet spot on the pillowcase. She didn’t know when she finally drifted off to sleep until she awoke to find herself in warm, sundrenched Southern California.
Chapter One
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” asked AnnaLynn, giving her husband a glare that could’ve stopped a stampede of rhinos.
This so-called “vacation” had been Paul’s idea from the very beginning. He had planned for the family to stay in California over the children’s two week Christmas—or to be politically correct—Winter Break. They had packed their bathing suits, shorts, and suntan lotion, ready for two full weeks of fun in the sun.
It had taken two days to get to California from Salt Lake City. Their brand new Ford F-150 had broken down in the middle of Nevada, miles from any form of civilization. Luckily, Kayla had packet her scooter. She set it up at lightning speed, and being six years old, had insisted that Paul wear her Barbie helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and wrist guards.
AnnaLynn almost wet herself from laughing as Paul propelled himself down the deserted highway, decked out in pink and struggling to keep his pants on his waist. The family vacation photo album was sure to be full of pages titled “Say No to Crack!”
The news was not good in behalf of the truck. Something had happened with the transmission, and the radiator had pulled an Old Faithful. It would take several weeks and almost $2,000 dollars to get things up and running again. Paul refused to pay for it; calling the dealership they had purchased the truck from, and insisted that they pay for it because it had only been one week since purchase, so their inspectors were not doing their jobs correctly. The dealership had consented after several hours and “Hold, please”-es. They also agreed to pay for the rental car to get them the rest of the way to California.
Much to Anna’s surprise, they were given a Cadillac Escalade. They transferred their luggage into the trunk, strapped in baby Joe’s car seat, and ushered the two girls into the back row of seats. Danielle, who was almost sixteen, shoved her earbuds in before Paul had even started the engine.
The family rolled out of Elko with their new set of wheels at 6 pm, already behind schedule. It was sure to be a long drive, and Danielle needed driving hours to get her license, and this was her chance to finish up. Paul was sent back with Kayla while his oldest child adjusted the seat so she could reach the pedals and see over the dashboard at the same time. Danielle plugged her iPod into the stereo and selected her Ella Fitzgerald playlist.
The sun was beginning to set as Ella’s deep vibrato emanated from the speakers. Joe began snoring softly in his car seat, and Paul slept with his face pressed against the window, since Kayla had stretched across the back seat, fast asleep.
“Honey, we haven’t talked in a very long time.” AnnaLynn said quietly.
“Yeah…” Danielle said distractedly, signaling and changing lanes. After a long paused, she said, “Mom, I’m worried about Katie.”
“What?” AnnaLynn sat up, alarmed, “Why?”
“I think… Mom, I think Eric…” She swallowed, her voice broke as she continued, “I think Eric is abusing her.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, “Mom, the other night she came over to help me with our calculus homework, and she had bad bruises all over her neck and arms. Her lip was cut, and her hips hurt. I think Eric beat her.”
“Eric is her boyfriend? Eric Winlap?”
“Yeah. They’ve been dating for about a year. Mom, what do I do? What if he kills her?” The panic was making her voice rise in pitch.
“Ssshh…calm down. It’s okay. Did she tell you that he hit her?”
“No! She flat out denied it!” Danielle was sobbing as silently as she could so she wouldn’t wake the baby. “Mom, I can’t see.”
“Pull over, sweetie. I’ll drive.” AnnaLynn’s heart was breaking for her daughter.
Mother and daughter traded places quickly, closing the doors as softly as they could. Danielle curled up in a ball and laid her head down on the arm rest between the seats. AnnaLynn reached behind the seat without taking her eyes off of the road and pulled a pillow into the front seat.
“Danielle, here’s a pillow. Sleep. Everything will be alright. I promise.”
Danielle couldn’t think of a reply, so she laid there with her eyes wide, tears dripping sideways down her face, leaving a growing wet spot on the pillowcase. She didn’t know when she finally drifted off to sleep until she awoke to find herself in warm, sundrenched Southern California.
RapidWrite: The Shadow Side 3-12-10
The Shadow Side
Author's Note: This is a rather dark entry.
My shadow's name is Raven. Raven sees herself and thinks, "I am so fat." Raven sees who casts her on the pavement and thinks, "That is one gorgeous girl." Deep inside, Raven knows she is beautiful.
Hurt. I'm hurt, and I am scared. No one in the world knows what it's like to be me, and they are lucky. Watching from behind, feeling so lonely. Stabbed in the back, stabbed in the gut. Stabbed in the heart. My broken heart is crying, wishing the knife would stop twisting. With every sobbed plea, the knife twists a little farther, presses in a little deeper. I would fight back, but the knife has me. I am pinned, weeping on the bathroom floor.
I stand up and brush myself off. Life continues. I feel sunshine radiate off the asphalt, but I have never seen the sun. That gorgeous girl is always blocking it. The sun cannot be where I am. We cannot coexist. I would disappear if the sun ever saw me. The sun would wither and extinguish if I ever touched it. Darkness cannot see light.
I am suppressed by my puppeteer. She rarely lets anyone see me. Her mom told her, "Trust no one." She will live and die by this.
When she dies, I will not. I will be left behind. Light will shine on the open casket, and I will exist beyond light's reach. As soon as the casket is closed, I will be allowed to grow and stretch, guarding my master's remains until she returns for them.
Author's Note: This is a rather dark entry.
My shadow's name is Raven. Raven sees herself and thinks, "I am so fat." Raven sees who casts her on the pavement and thinks, "That is one gorgeous girl." Deep inside, Raven knows she is beautiful.
Hurt. I'm hurt, and I am scared. No one in the world knows what it's like to be me, and they are lucky. Watching from behind, feeling so lonely. Stabbed in the back, stabbed in the gut. Stabbed in the heart. My broken heart is crying, wishing the knife would stop twisting. With every sobbed plea, the knife twists a little farther, presses in a little deeper. I would fight back, but the knife has me. I am pinned, weeping on the bathroom floor.
I stand up and brush myself off. Life continues. I feel sunshine radiate off the asphalt, but I have never seen the sun. That gorgeous girl is always blocking it. The sun cannot be where I am. We cannot coexist. I would disappear if the sun ever saw me. The sun would wither and extinguish if I ever touched it. Darkness cannot see light.
I am suppressed by my puppeteer. She rarely lets anyone see me. Her mom told her, "Trust no one." She will live and die by this.
When she dies, I will not. I will be left behind. Light will shine on the open casket, and I will exist beyond light's reach. As soon as the casket is closed, I will be allowed to grow and stretch, guarding my master's remains until she returns for them.
Rapid Write: Texting 3-10-10
"What?!" I cocked my head at my phone.
The message I opened had used a bunch of short cuts and words that had all of the vowels removed. I couldn't stand texting people who wrote like that. Honestly! Is it that hard to spell out please, boss, minutes, and thanks?
I hit reply and spelled out the word "what" and included a question mark. I gave up on deciphering the next message, replied, "Oh my goodness, never mind." (using all 21 letters, thank you!) I gently tossed my phone on my bed and walked into the kitchen, where I found my mom reading a book.
"Hi mom."
"Hi."
Well, she wasn't going to be very talkative. I grabbed an apple from the fridge and went back into my room, hearing my own book calling to me.
I had one missed call and a voicemail. My dad's voice came from the speaker and said, "Tell you mom that my boss is coming over in 5 minutes. I know, the house is a mess, quickly! Tidy it up, please! Thanks!"
When did my dad ever learn to text like that? I suddenly realized what the voicemail had said.
Oh crap! I thought, opening my door and yelling, "Mom!", just as the doorbell rang.
The message I opened had used a bunch of short cuts and words that had all of the vowels removed. I couldn't stand texting people who wrote like that. Honestly! Is it that hard to spell out please, boss, minutes, and thanks?
I hit reply and spelled out the word "what" and included a question mark. I gave up on deciphering the next message, replied, "Oh my goodness, never mind." (using all 21 letters, thank you!) I gently tossed my phone on my bed and walked into the kitchen, where I found my mom reading a book.
"Hi mom."
"Hi."
Well, she wasn't going to be very talkative. I grabbed an apple from the fridge and went back into my room, hearing my own book calling to me.
I had one missed call and a voicemail. My dad's voice came from the speaker and said, "Tell you mom that my boss is coming over in 5 minutes. I know, the house is a mess, quickly! Tidy it up, please! Thanks!"
When did my dad ever learn to text like that? I suddenly realized what the voicemail had said.
Oh crap! I thought, opening my door and yelling, "Mom!", just as the doorbell rang.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
That New Phone Smell
A new purple phone in my hands,
I lightly tap the screen,
still sporting the plastic protector,
reminding me "please don't text and drive".
That vibrating in my pocket
is like an old friend.
The message received,
actually is an old friend.
I'm once again connected to the world,
people seem so interested in me,
texting and calling
this new purple phone in my hands.
:)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Blue 3-8-10
Blue
I heard a song in blue,
like a flower crying for the dew.
In the silence of my dreams,
he's still in love with me.
He still smiles at me
and holds my hands.
Still flirts and speaks
with me during band.
I feel sentimental
when those brown eyes look my way.
Rarely, he sees me and scowls.
The rest of the time he doesn't see me at all.
I tell my friends
I've moved on, he never respected me.
But deep down inside, I know it's a lie,
because my thoughts always end
whenever I hear his voice,
see his smile, smell his breath,
hear him play with all his might.
I wouldn't react this way if I had a choice.
I heard a song in blue,
like a flower crying for the dew.
In the silence of my dreams,
he's still in love with me.
He still smiles at me
and holds my hands.
Still flirts and speaks
with me during band.
I feel sentimental
when those brown eyes look my way.
Rarely, he sees me and scowls.
The rest of the time he doesn't see me at all.
I tell my friends
I've moved on, he never respected me.
But deep down inside, I know it's a lie,
because my thoughts always end
whenever I hear his voice,
see his smile, smell his breath,
hear him play with all his might.
I wouldn't react this way if I had a choice.
Living with Confidence
"I've spent most of my life walking under that hovering cloud, jealousy, whose acid raindrops blurred my vision and burned holes in my heart. Once I learned to use the umbrella of confidence, the skies cleared up for me and the sunshine called joy became my faithful companion." ~Astrid Alauda
Living with Confidence 3-4-10
Jealousy
He walks with her and laughs at her jokes, playfully putting his arm around her waist. She’s beautiful, of course, without an ounce of fat on her body due to drill team. He used to look at me that way, and flash a smile that made my stomach go flip-flop like a dying fish, and the effect still hasn’t stopped after he treated me like dirt. But now I am absolutely nothing, invisible as he walks past me. My heart breaks all over again, and I feel like sinking into the floor and dying, but life must go on.
Raindrops
Plink, plink, plink. Raindrops land in a broken, blue bucket from the leaky roof, held together by haphazardly nailed two by fours. A child shivers beneath a tattered blanket, left alone while her brother is out in search of food. They didn’t know their fathers—Mamma had been raped both times she had conceived her children, and Mamma had died in a drive-by shooting outside the factory she had worked in. Thunder rattles the windows and the child begins to cry, wishing the monsters would go away, anxious for her brother to return.
Sunshine, Joy
The light from the water was often blinding, which was the reason behind so many car accidents along the boulevard. A young woman with long blonde hair pulled into two long braids runs on the sand, amazed by her first view of the power and immensity of the ocean. A breeze catches her new, big, floppy, yellow sun hat, and she grasps the edges, screaming as a cheeky seagull drags her sunglasses from her bag and across the sand, laughing as her friend feeds a fearless seagull out of her hand. Life is beautiful.
Living with Confidence 3-4-10
Jealousy
He walks with her and laughs at her jokes, playfully putting his arm around her waist. She’s beautiful, of course, without an ounce of fat on her body due to drill team. He used to look at me that way, and flash a smile that made my stomach go flip-flop like a dying fish, and the effect still hasn’t stopped after he treated me like dirt. But now I am absolutely nothing, invisible as he walks past me. My heart breaks all over again, and I feel like sinking into the floor and dying, but life must go on.
Raindrops
Plink, plink, plink. Raindrops land in a broken, blue bucket from the leaky roof, held together by haphazardly nailed two by fours. A child shivers beneath a tattered blanket, left alone while her brother is out in search of food. They didn’t know their fathers—Mamma had been raped both times she had conceived her children, and Mamma had died in a drive-by shooting outside the factory she had worked in. Thunder rattles the windows and the child begins to cry, wishing the monsters would go away, anxious for her brother to return.
Sunshine, Joy
The light from the water was often blinding, which was the reason behind so many car accidents along the boulevard. A young woman with long blonde hair pulled into two long braids runs on the sand, amazed by her first view of the power and immensity of the ocean. A breeze catches her new, big, floppy, yellow sun hat, and she grasps the edges, screaming as a cheeky seagull drags her sunglasses from her bag and across the sand, laughing as her friend feeds a fearless seagull out of her hand. Life is beautiful.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Mask 3-6-10
Mask
She walks down the street
and all heads turn as she passes.
White shirt, yellow skirt
swishing around her knees.
Bouncing blonde curls
inside a floppy, yellow sun hat.
Huge pink sunglasses that seem to fit
her shimmering pink lips and pearl-white teeth.
The strangers she passes on the sidewalk
see a beautiful movie star wandering down their shop-lined street
and gawk at her confidence and wonder what she's thinking,
but they no nothing.
There's a war going on inside
as she struggles to find a reason to live
after he left her broken and stranded
on the edge of the gaping maw of a black hole.
Her fate is unknown
as she finishes her window-shopping.
That goddess-like face is soon forgotten
as a floppy, yellow sun hat disappears around the corner.
She walks down the street
and all heads turn as she passes.
White shirt, yellow skirt
swishing around her knees.
Bouncing blonde curls
inside a floppy, yellow sun hat.
Huge pink sunglasses that seem to fit
her shimmering pink lips and pearl-white teeth.
The strangers she passes on the sidewalk
see a beautiful movie star wandering down their shop-lined street
and gawk at her confidence and wonder what she's thinking,
but they no nothing.
There's a war going on inside
as she struggles to find a reason to live
after he left her broken and stranded
on the edge of the gaping maw of a black hole.
Her fate is unknown
as she finishes her window-shopping.
That goddess-like face is soon forgotten
as a floppy, yellow sun hat disappears around the corner.
Black Hole 2-16-10
Black Hole
You say to me,
"It's not like that anymore,
let's just be friends."
My world stops spinning
My life practically ends.
Tears landing in
my trembling hands.
Things had seemed so right
until I told spoke my mind.
I'm trying to make this
work out alright; being
just friends
could be the very thing our relationship needs.
It doesn't make it any easier
when you ignore me completely.
I'm trying to let go,
but your influence is much too strong.
The center of my solar system disappeared
and I spiraled out of control.
Plunging into the leftover black hole
from which something as fast as light
cannot escape.
You say to me,
"It's not like that anymore,
let's just be friends."
My world stops spinning
My life practically ends.
Tears landing in
my trembling hands.
Things had seemed so right
until I told spoke my mind.
I'm trying to make this
work out alright; being
just friends
could be the very thing our relationship needs.
It doesn't make it any easier
when you ignore me completely.
I'm trying to let go,
but your influence is much too strong.
The center of my solar system disappeared
and I spiraled out of control.
Plunging into the leftover black hole
from which something as fast as light
cannot escape.
My Life in 5 Short Stanzas 2-16-10
My Life in 5 Short Stanzas
1
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
while ignoring the key signature
and I slaughter that phrase.
2
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
after a glance at the key signature
I still slaughtered that phrase.
3
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
once I'd studied the key signature
I did better that time.
Not good enough yet.
4
I play my saxophone
slowly playing the notes
circling the notes in the key signature
I did things right this time.
5
I play my saxophone
perfectly playing the notes
Stayed in the key signature
Oh, the triumph I feel.
1
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
while ignoring the key signature
and I slaughter that phrase.
2
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
after a glance at the key signature
I still slaughtered that phrase.
3
I play my saxophone
quickly playing the notes
once I'd studied the key signature
I did better that time.
Not good enough yet.
4
I play my saxophone
slowly playing the notes
circling the notes in the key signature
I did things right this time.
5
I play my saxophone
perfectly playing the notes
Stayed in the key signature
Oh, the triumph I feel.
Rapid Write 3-5-10: The Track Meet
The Track Meet
My knees were shaking as I stepped down from the school bus into the parking lot of my rival school. Several of its students had been my best friends in Junior High, but now there was an awkward, mile-wide canyon between us.
It was the day of my first track meet. Becca laughed and chatted at my side as we walked to the field. My coach, and brother, Matthew, led us to the throwing ring. My stomach knotted painfully, my heart pounded against my chest.
I paced nervously as, one by one, girls much bigger than I hurled their discs into the field.
It was my turn. I stepped into the ring, clinging to the yellow discus in my hands.
"Breathe." I whispered to myself. I stepped into my throwing stance, and turned, extending my left are in front, right arm in back. One deep breath and I twisted, thrusting my arm forward with all of my strength, a loud grunt of effort escaping my lips.
That baby flew forever, it seemed. I laughed when they said it was a 100 foot through. That couldn't be right.
I sat straight up in bed as my alarm clock screeched at me. Today was the day of my first track meet...
My knees were shaking as I stepped down from the school bus into the parking lot of my rival school. Several of its students had been my best friends in Junior High, but now there was an awkward, mile-wide canyon between us.
It was the day of my first track meet. Becca laughed and chatted at my side as we walked to the field. My coach, and brother, Matthew, led us to the throwing ring. My stomach knotted painfully, my heart pounded against my chest.
I paced nervously as, one by one, girls much bigger than I hurled their discs into the field.
It was my turn. I stepped into the ring, clinging to the yellow discus in my hands.
"Breathe." I whispered to myself. I stepped into my throwing stance, and turned, extending my left are in front, right arm in back. One deep breath and I twisted, thrusting my arm forward with all of my strength, a loud grunt of effort escaping my lips.
That baby flew forever, it seemed. I laughed when they said it was a 100 foot through. That couldn't be right.
I sat straight up in bed as my alarm clock screeched at me. Today was the day of my first track meet...
Fettuccine: 3-3-10
Fettuccine 3-3-10
Not spaghetti, nor linguine
sitting burring on a pantry shelf.
Expiration is just a year away.
What are the chances of seeing that blessed day?
To be thrown out, unopened and uneaten-
Is that that a better fate
than being boiled, covered in alfredo,
mixed with chicken and served on a plate?
Surviving death by fork,
teeth, enzymes, and stomach acids,
just to be dumped in smelly,
cold, dirty, sea-gull infested landfill?
Which is the better way to die?
Buried on a pantry shelf, cramped,
lonely, forgotten, impatient,
waiting for the judgment day.
Not spaghetti, nor linguine
sitting burring on a pantry shelf.
Expiration is just a year away.
What are the chances of seeing that blessed day?
To be thrown out, unopened and uneaten-
Is that that a better fate
than being boiled, covered in alfredo,
mixed with chicken and served on a plate?
Surviving death by fork,
teeth, enzymes, and stomach acids,
just to be dumped in smelly,
cold, dirty, sea-gull infested landfill?
Which is the better way to die?
Buried on a pantry shelf, cramped,
lonely, forgotten, impatient,
waiting for the judgment day.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A Red Straw 3-2-10
A Red Straw
Stuck through a lid to deliver
the goodness of the drink within the cup.
Used, abused, chewed, and shared.
The once appreciated straw is left:
discarded and broken on the lawn.
Still dripping in red goo,
the straw prays to be recycled and reused,
when it finds itself between two fingers
of a girl dressed in yellow.
We dream of being picked up
and taken into loving, caring hands,
to help us recover from the use and abuse
and brokeness of being
a straw left broken and discarded on the lawn.
Stuck through a lid to deliver
the goodness of the drink within the cup.
Used, abused, chewed, and shared.
The once appreciated straw is left:
discarded and broken on the lawn.
Still dripping in red goo,
the straw prays to be recycled and reused,
when it finds itself between two fingers
of a girl dressed in yellow.
We dream of being picked up
and taken into loving, caring hands,
to help us recover from the use and abuse
and brokeness of being
a straw left broken and discarded on the lawn.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Rapid Write: What Does Poetry Do For You? 3-2-10
Poetry is a swelling in my heart. It is a way for me to convey my thoughts and emotions in a comprehensible manner, instead of struggling to find words as I speak. Poetry is a gentle stress reliever for a clouded mind, a confused heart, and a troubled soul.
This went on my entry form for a poetry contest at my school. :3 the winner gets $400. :D I entered Ode to Ella as my poem. -crosses fingers-
This went on my entry form for a poetry contest at my school. :3 the winner gets $400. :D I entered Ode to Ella as my poem. -crosses fingers-
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Good Girl 2-26-10
The Good Girl 2-26-10
When asked if I’ve done any good
In the world today, I have to pause and think.
What have I done to make a day bright,
For someone less fortunate than I?
I smiled real big and issued a hug
I opened a gym locker
Explained jazz theory to a confused friend,
and listened when they needed to vent.
I’ve never faked sick
To stay home from church or school,
Maybe I over-exaggerated,
But guilt made me go anyway.
I never drew on a sleeping friend
Or egged a jerk’s house.
Toilet-papered once—with adult supervision,
But in my unskillment ended up leaving the roll on the lawn.
I never broke a heart
Without apologizing sooner or later,
Even if it didn’t help ease the pain.
I never sluffed a class in my life,
And don’t plan to soon.
I never laugh at a down syndrome child
When everyone else treats them like a loon.
I never hijacked a car or held strangers hostage
in a Wal-Mart.
I never flirt with old, male Chemistry teachers
Just so he will raise my grade.
I never listened to a secret then
Turned around and told the world,
Because I value the trust
Placed on me by others.
It would hurt too much to lose.
I never mocked someone's art or writing
unless they made fun of it themselves.
Even then, I find the good points
So their self-esteem isn't destroyed.
I've never stolen someone else's phone or ipod.
I hate that feeling,
why should I make someone else have to go through
the stress, fear, anxiety, and sadness of having something stolen?
There are a lot of things that I have done,
both good and bad, mostly bad, I suppose.
But every rose has its thorns
Every actions has its cons and pros.
When asked if I’ve done any good
In the world today, I have to pause and think.
What have I done to make a day bright,
For someone less fortunate than I?
I smiled real big and issued a hug
I opened a gym locker
Explained jazz theory to a confused friend,
and listened when they needed to vent.
I’ve never faked sick
To stay home from church or school,
Maybe I over-exaggerated,
But guilt made me go anyway.
I never drew on a sleeping friend
Or egged a jerk’s house.
Toilet-papered once—with adult supervision,
But in my unskillment ended up leaving the roll on the lawn.
I never broke a heart
Without apologizing sooner or later,
Even if it didn’t help ease the pain.
I never sluffed a class in my life,
And don’t plan to soon.
I never laugh at a down syndrome child
When everyone else treats them like a loon.
I never hijacked a car or held strangers hostage
in a Wal-Mart.
I never flirt with old, male Chemistry teachers
Just so he will raise my grade.
I never listened to a secret then
Turned around and told the world,
Because I value the trust
Placed on me by others.
It would hurt too much to lose.
I never mocked someone's art or writing
unless they made fun of it themselves.
Even then, I find the good points
So their self-esteem isn't destroyed.
I've never stolen someone else's phone or ipod.
I hate that feeling,
why should I make someone else have to go through
the stress, fear, anxiety, and sadness of having something stolen?
There are a lot of things that I have done,
both good and bad, mostly bad, I suppose.
But every rose has its thorns
Every actions has its cons and pros.
Ode to Ella
Ode to Ella 2-26-10
Curled up on my bed
with a book in my hands,
Ella Fitzgerald softly sings
about a sophisticated lady.
My eyes slide shut
as I quietly sing along;
Saddie jumps on my bed
and warms up my feet.
Ella scats about a train
to get to Sugar Hill way up in Harlem.
Neither of usknow the time:
we're in a day dream.
Rain patters against my windows
and lightening flashes across the sky.
Life is good because
I'm just a lucky so-and-so.
I missed that Saturday dance cause I
don't get around much anymore.
He does something to me,
and I wish it would stop.
Ella and I let a song go out of our hearts,
but it don't mean a thing.
Am I too late
to make amends?
We fell an urge to sing
a ditty that envokes the Spring.
I guess it's just one of those things,
but I get a kick out of life.
Such a lush life.
Life is lonely once more.
While only last year everything
seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again.
All I care is to smile through it all.
I'll forget him, I will.
Ella, my idol, will help me,
through her music,
on the long road ahead.
Curled up on my bed
with a book in my hands,
Ella Fitzgerald softly sings
about a sophisticated lady.
My eyes slide shut
as I quietly sing along;
Saddie jumps on my bed
and warms up my feet.
Ella scats about a train
to get to Sugar Hill way up in Harlem.
Neither of usknow the time:
we're in a day dream.
Rain patters against my windows
and lightening flashes across the sky.
Life is good because
I'm just a lucky so-and-so.
I missed that Saturday dance cause I
don't get around much anymore.
He does something to me,
and I wish it would stop.
Ella and I let a song go out of our hearts,
but it don't mean a thing.
Am I too late
to make amends?
We fell an urge to sing
a ditty that envokes the Spring.
I guess it's just one of those things,
but I get a kick out of life.
Such a lush life.
Life is lonely once more.
While only last year everything
seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again.
All I care is to smile through it all.
I'll forget him, I will.
Ella, my idol, will help me,
through her music,
on the long road ahead.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Saddie the Cockapoo 2-24-10
Saddie the Cockapoo
My adorable dog of ten years
I think of the times we've had.
We picked you up and brought you home,
and you whined the entire way.
They told us you would be small
with your dad being a miniature-poodle and all.
An obvious lie, we found,
as you could soon steal food from the table.
Mom nicknamed you Jaws when you prowled around the table
and snatched my friend's Jr. Bacon Cheese Burger,
which was gone before you got to the living room.
The weird things you like to eat,
like tissues, new or used,
and cardboard, yogurt cups,
a full bottle of Elmer's glue; leaving only the orange cap behind.
That time you ate an entire bird, legs and all.
You were not a happy puppoo that week.
Your liking for chapstick, lipgloss,
a brand new packs of gum and bars of chocolate
is pretty gross.
It's a wonder you aren't dead!
You always eat my stuff
and it makes me so angry!
But I can't stay mad at you,
contention sends you under my bed.
You've grown too big in the many years we've had,
so you get stuck and whine until someone, usually me,
lifts the bed and lets you out.
You drive the family crazy at dinner
Every night you drink loudly during the prayer,
and whine a look cute until we can't resist
to give you the food we enjoy.
A bark like a mastiff:
you scare away strangers.
But if you know who's at the door,
you make them feel right at home.
Matthew and I tussle,
"He's getting me! Help!" I scream.
But rather than attack the attacker
you bit ME on the butt.
You're a crack-head, Saddie.
And we take full advantage of it.
Take off your collar and throw it down the hall.
The tag-heavy collar somehow makes you angry;
you give it the death-whip and run
as it clobbers you around the head.
Bystanders must be wary
For you throw the collar without warning
and they flinch away from the pending pain.
Saddie, Saddie
you're such a lady.
Why must you rub your just-groomed face
all over the living room floor!?
Your bow was so cute!
Why'd you take it out!?
You've had a long day of running about.
You fluff up my pillows into your own little nest,
and growl when I try to move you out of the way.
Oh my puppy: I watch you sleep,
your nose and legs twitch with the dreams you visit.
Dreams of birds and bunnies; endless places to explore.
I listen to you whine and grunt
and know your dream has turned scary
Rescued by a gentle stroke,
you curl up on my chest,
and I quietly giggle at the touch
of a cold, wet nose.
A puppy nose.
My adorable dog of ten years
I think of the times we've had.
We picked you up and brought you home,
and you whined the entire way.
They told us you would be small
with your dad being a miniature-poodle and all.
An obvious lie, we found,
as you could soon steal food from the table.
Mom nicknamed you Jaws when you prowled around the table
and snatched my friend's Jr. Bacon Cheese Burger,
which was gone before you got to the living room.
The weird things you like to eat,
like tissues, new or used,
and cardboard, yogurt cups,
a full bottle of Elmer's glue; leaving only the orange cap behind.
That time you ate an entire bird, legs and all.
You were not a happy puppoo that week.
Your liking for chapstick, lipgloss,
a brand new packs of gum and bars of chocolate
is pretty gross.
It's a wonder you aren't dead!
You always eat my stuff
and it makes me so angry!
But I can't stay mad at you,
contention sends you under my bed.
You've grown too big in the many years we've had,
so you get stuck and whine until someone, usually me,
lifts the bed and lets you out.
You drive the family crazy at dinner
Every night you drink loudly during the prayer,
and whine a look cute until we can't resist
to give you the food we enjoy.
A bark like a mastiff:
you scare away strangers.
But if you know who's at the door,
you make them feel right at home.
Matthew and I tussle,
"He's getting me! Help!" I scream.
But rather than attack the attacker
you bit ME on the butt.
You're a crack-head, Saddie.
And we take full advantage of it.
Take off your collar and throw it down the hall.
The tag-heavy collar somehow makes you angry;
you give it the death-whip and run
as it clobbers you around the head.
Bystanders must be wary
For you throw the collar without warning
and they flinch away from the pending pain.
Saddie, Saddie
you're such a lady.
Why must you rub your just-groomed face
all over the living room floor!?
Your bow was so cute!
Why'd you take it out!?
Squatting in the snow is never fun.
But a dog must do what must be done.
A snow-flinger attacks the snow
and you bark like you're being beaten.
Shivering and wet we bring you inside,
towel you off and make you roll around.
I place a treat on your nose; but you just don't get it.
Instead of popping it up to catch it, you simply look down.
Saddie my baby,
I could write about you forever
if I never ran out of lead and paper.
But all poems must end somewhere,
so I have one more thing to say:
You've had a long day of running about.
You fluff up my pillows into your own little nest,
and growl when I try to move you out of the way.
Oh my puppy: I watch you sleep,
your nose and legs twitch with the dreams you visit.
Dreams of birds and bunnies; endless places to explore.
I listen to you whine and grunt
and know your dream has turned scary
Rescued by a gentle stroke,
you curl up on my chest,
and I quietly giggle at the touch
of a cold, wet nose.
A puppy nose.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Broken 2-21-10 (Draft #1)
This peom talks about some of my...issues. If you don't feel like knowing what's wrong with me, don't read this. :/. And you don't need to go and tell everybody about it! Thanks. :)
Broken
He hurt me when I thought
he loved me; his constant
attention and energy made me feel
whole.
The sobs rose in my chest
as I peeled out of his driveway
and sped toward my house; sitting
in my Jeep parked in the garage
I bawled until I was dry,
then went inside.
Being greeted by my puppy
who wagging, curly tail
was like sunshine.
Crying on the bathroom floor, my brain
make my fingernails pick
and pick at the blemishes on my arms.
I'm unable to stop my fingers
from demolishing my skin; even when it
starts to hurt more
than I can bare.
Suffocating emptiness swallowed my soul.
"I'm falling to pieces without you. My
life is worthless."
I text him, ask if I can call.
My heart jumps into my throat
when I see his name calling on my cell.
Curled up in the brown chair in the front room,
I hide from the streetlight outside.
His deep voice calms my aching mind, and
for a moment I feel hope swell in my
breast. Things will go back to normal, my life
will no longer be in ruins. Twenty minutes
slip through my fingers like blood
from a nose bleed: warm, awkward.
We'd both had a very long day, I show
compassion, more than he'd ever shown me,
and I leave him in the embrace of his dreams.
My hope is shattered and rebuilt,
time and time again. My wise, caring friends beg me
"Stop trying. He's a jerk. He's not worth it."
But I can't stop. The feelings won't leave,
Even after I've been used, ignored
stabbed in the heart,
By the boy who was supposed
to love me.
Broken
He hurt me when I thought
he loved me; his constant
attention and energy made me feel
whole.
The sobs rose in my chest
as I peeled out of his driveway
and sped toward my house; sitting
in my Jeep parked in the garage
I bawled until I was dry,
then went inside.
Being greeted by my puppy
who wagging, curly tail
was like sunshine.
Crying on the bathroom floor, my brain
make my fingernails pick
and pick at the blemishes on my arms.
I'm unable to stop my fingers
from demolishing my skin; even when it
starts to hurt more
than I can bare.
Suffocating emptiness swallowed my soul.
"I'm falling to pieces without you. My
life is worthless."
I text him, ask if I can call.
My heart jumps into my throat
when I see his name calling on my cell.
Curled up in the brown chair in the front room,
I hide from the streetlight outside.
His deep voice calms my aching mind, and
for a moment I feel hope swell in my
breast. Things will go back to normal, my life
will no longer be in ruins. Twenty minutes
slip through my fingers like blood
from a nose bleed: warm, awkward.
We'd both had a very long day, I show
compassion, more than he'd ever shown me,
and I leave him in the embrace of his dreams.
My hope is shattered and rebuilt,
time and time again. My wise, caring friends beg me
"Stop trying. He's a jerk. He's not worth it."
But I can't stop. The feelings won't leave,
Even after I've been used, ignored
stabbed in the heart,
By the boy who was supposed
to love me.
Rapid Write: Movies 2-21-10
Movies
"Cut! Cut cut cut!" yelled the director impatiently.
I rolled my eyes and turned around, wishing the pistol in my hands was real instead of a prop. "What?" I said, trying to keep my temper under control.
"You're doing this all wrong." said Pete Willins through a mouthful of sticky, pink bubble-gum, waving a hand through the air.
"What am I doing wrong, Pete?" I sighed.
"You're facial expressions are all screwed up." Pete explained spittily, "Roll it again. Take 59. And....action."
"ON THE GROUND!" I screamed at my hostages, bringing the gun to bear.
"CUT!" Screamed Pete.
"WHAT!" I screamed back.
"Be meaner!" Pete yelled.
I'd had it with this director. He was such a beast. "FIND SOMEONE ELSE! I QUIT!" I shrieked, throwing the pistol in Pete's direction. My arm was better than my acting, apparently, I realized, watching in horror as the pistol slammed into Pete Willins' groin, putting him on his knees, gasping for breath.
"Oh crap." I whispered, and ran out of the filming area. I never looked back.
"Cut! Cut cut cut!" yelled the director impatiently.
I rolled my eyes and turned around, wishing the pistol in my hands was real instead of a prop. "What?" I said, trying to keep my temper under control.
"You're doing this all wrong." said Pete Willins through a mouthful of sticky, pink bubble-gum, waving a hand through the air.
"What am I doing wrong, Pete?" I sighed.
"You're facial expressions are all screwed up." Pete explained spittily, "Roll it again. Take 59. And....action."
"ON THE GROUND!" I screamed at my hostages, bringing the gun to bear.
"CUT!" Screamed Pete.
"WHAT!" I screamed back.
"Be meaner!" Pete yelled.
I'd had it with this director. He was such a beast. "FIND SOMEONE ELSE! I QUIT!" I shrieked, throwing the pistol in Pete's direction. My arm was better than my acting, apparently, I realized, watching in horror as the pistol slammed into Pete Willins' groin, putting him on his knees, gasping for breath.
"Oh crap." I whispered, and ran out of the filming area. I never looked back.
Rapid Write: Nicole 2-16-10
Nicole
They say that when it rains, the angels in heaven are weeping. After the funeral yesterday, my mom said, "The angels wept today, not with sorrow, but with joy, because one of their own came home." That hit me harder than anyone can imagine.
My sweet cousin Nicole, who was 17 and had suffered with Downsyndrome and autism, was recieved in the embrace of angels who rejoiced at her return.
The ones she left behind still weep, but our tears of sorrow are mixed with joy because she is free from her limited mortal body, and she is now speaking and being understood by those who passed before her, and those who will join us soon.
They say that when it rains, the angels in heaven are weeping. After the funeral yesterday, my mom said, "The angels wept today, not with sorrow, but with joy, because one of their own came home." That hit me harder than anyone can imagine.
My sweet cousin Nicole, who was 17 and had suffered with Downsyndrome and autism, was recieved in the embrace of angels who rejoiced at her return.
The ones she left behind still weep, but our tears of sorrow are mixed with joy because she is free from her limited mortal body, and she is now speaking and being understood by those who passed before her, and those who will join us soon.
Boy/Saxophone 2-11-10
Author's note-For our rapid write we listed qualities about a person and an inanimate object, then wrote a poem about both at the same time.
Complicated, beautiful
difficult, and creative.
Lips must be positioned
just right.
Such a child
so vunerable and prized.
But one scratch,
one tiny scratch,
will cost an arm and a leg
to get rid of.
Once secured to my neck
now placed safely in a case
My dream come true
will never know the real me.
Complicated, beautiful
difficult, and creative.
Lips must be positioned
just right.
Such a child
so vunerable and prized.
But one scratch,
one tiny scratch,
will cost an arm and a leg
to get rid of.
Once secured to my neck
now placed safely in a case
My dream come true
will never know the real me.
Break Up 2-11-10
Break Up
A break-up in a text
during second period?!
That's a low blow.
It's my fault, I know.
But it still hurts
like I've been shot in the gut.
I messed up
and hurt you
Begged for your forgiveness
I thought we'd moved passed this.
Now you say
you want to talk
I say "okay", knowing
I won't be able to make it
without breaking down.
I've been told to stay
positive
But it's just so hard.
One day you'll wake up
and realize what you're missing
I'm willing to forgive
Just make the pain
go away.
A break-up in a text
during second period?!
That's a low blow.
It's my fault, I know.
But it still hurts
like I've been shot in the gut.
I messed up
and hurt you
Begged for your forgiveness
I thought we'd moved passed this.
Now you say
you want to talk
I say "okay", knowing
I won't be able to make it
without breaking down.
I've been told to stay
positive
But it's just so hard.
One day you'll wake up
and realize what you're missing
I'm willing to forgive
Just make the pain
go away.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
That was Me Then, This is Me Now
That was Me Then, This is Me Now
I didn’t notice how much I’d changed,
Until I saw how my old friends still act today,
And I remembered acting like that
Once.
Once upon a time,
There was a loud and crazy spaz
With a contagious snort, big green eyes,
And a sense of humor like no other.
Smiling, yawning, watering-eyed,
Friend-seeker, party-goer,
DP-guzzler, flirter, singer,
“Party shirt” wearer,
Crazy-hairer,
Jacket borrower
Cologne smeller.
Sax Player, Peer-tutor,
Sevie-Hider, careful guider,
Authority defier,
N-receiver
Fearless ninth grader.
Secret-keeper, silent listener,
Tear-catcher…
Cutting-stopper, life-saver,
Advice-giver,
Issue-resolver, peace-keeper,
Heart-breaker.
Poem-writer, Twix-eater,
Halo-player, Alien-slayer.
How I’ve changed in just a year!
So many things are different,
So much is still the same.
I’m still a life-saving, silent listening,
Secret-keeping, tear catching,
Authority defying, advice-giving, poem-writing,
Heart-breaking, friend-seeking, sax playing,
Green-eyed
Sophomore
I didn’t notice how much I’d changed,
Until I saw how my old friends still act today,
And I remembered acting like that
Once.
Once upon a time,
There was a loud and crazy spaz
With a contagious snort, big green eyes,
And a sense of humor like no other.
Smiling, yawning, watering-eyed,
Friend-seeker, party-goer,
DP-guzzler, flirter, singer,
“Party shirt” wearer,
Crazy-hairer,
Jacket borrower
Cologne smeller.
Sax Player, Peer-tutor,
Sevie-Hider, careful guider,
Authority defier,
N-receiver
Fearless ninth grader.
Secret-keeper, silent listener,
Tear-catcher…
Cutting-stopper, life-saver,
Advice-giver,
Issue-resolver, peace-keeper,
Heart-breaker.
Poem-writer, Twix-eater,
Halo-player, Alien-slayer.
How I’ve changed in just a year!
So many things are different,
So much is still the same.
I’m still a life-saving, silent listening,
Secret-keeping, tear catching,
Authority defying, advice-giving, poem-writing,
Heart-breaking, friend-seeking, sax playing,
Green-eyed
Sophomore
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I Never Realized 2-3-10
I Never Realized
It’s February 3, 2010 and
I never realized
how much I love this world
With its up’s and down’s
We smile and frown
Life is like space
So immense , fast-paced,
Limitless, with jewels of
Friendships that sparkle like
Diamonds
I never realized
How much I like being me
With my big eyes, big grin
Big feet, and big personality.
I never realized
How fantastic my snort is
Until I realized the grins and laughter
It spread to all who heard it.
I never realized
How much I loved my friends
Until we were separated by high school
Now things will never be the same
I never realized
How I held that group together
The kind of glue I was
I never realized how much they needed me
Until it was too late to go back.
Too late to change the past.
I never realized
How much I love hugs
Until there was no one there
to hold me close
I never realized
How much I’ve changed
Since 9th grade with my immaturity
I’ve realized how much my body has changed
But my mind is still the same—twisted, confusing, fantastic
Different.
I never realized
How important it is
To listen
When someone needs your help
When they’re on the edge
Ready to jump.
I know now how much people depend
On one another
To survive.
I never realized
How much I loved
And needed
My brother
Until he almost went away
For two years.
Then life happened—he stayed home.
I never realized
How much I love music
Until I learned how it worked
And how I could make it work for me
If I just don’t let myself
Give up.
I never knew
How much a book could do
To waste away the unfilled time
Until I only had unfilled
Time.
I never realized
How many ways one could
Perceive space
And time.
Interchangeable
Unchangeable
Unstoppable
My space-time continuum
And destiny are changed
whenever someone
Enters my life
For better or worse.
I never realized
How much I want to travel
Back in time
To correct what I’ve done
Wrong.
Make sure I do it right this time.
I never realized
How much words can damage
Harm, injure,
Kill a person inside
And outside.
I know I need to be more cautious
So I don’t hurt anybody
Ever again.
I never realized
How sick I am of hurting people
Until I looked behind and saw
The damage left by the wake
Of my passing.
I never realized
How much I love
To hold a person close
To feel their warmth in my arms
I never realized
How much I write
When the emotions being
To surge
I never realized
How I can’t hold back
When I get started
Nothing can stop me.
Don’t stop me.
It’s February 3, 2010 and
I never realized
how much I love this world
With its up’s and down’s
We smile and frown
Life is like space
So immense , fast-paced,
Limitless, with jewels of
Friendships that sparkle like
Diamonds
I never realized
How much I like being me
With my big eyes, big grin
Big feet, and big personality.
I never realized
How fantastic my snort is
Until I realized the grins and laughter
It spread to all who heard it.
I never realized
How much I loved my friends
Until we were separated by high school
Now things will never be the same
I never realized
How I held that group together
The kind of glue I was
I never realized how much they needed me
Until it was too late to go back.
Too late to change the past.
I never realized
How much I love hugs
Until there was no one there
to hold me close
I never realized
How much I’ve changed
Since 9th grade with my immaturity
I’ve realized how much my body has changed
But my mind is still the same—twisted, confusing, fantastic
Different.
I never realized
How important it is
To listen
When someone needs your help
When they’re on the edge
Ready to jump.
I know now how much people depend
On one another
To survive.
I never realized
How much I loved
And needed
My brother
Until he almost went away
For two years.
Then life happened—he stayed home.
I never realized
How much I love music
Until I learned how it worked
And how I could make it work for me
If I just don’t let myself
Give up.
I never knew
How much a book could do
To waste away the unfilled time
Until I only had unfilled
Time.
I never realized
How many ways one could
Perceive space
And time.
Interchangeable
Unchangeable
Unstoppable
My space-time continuum
And destiny are changed
whenever someone
Enters my life
For better or worse.
I never realized
How much I want to travel
Back in time
To correct what I’ve done
Wrong.
Make sure I do it right this time.
I never realized
How much words can damage
Harm, injure,
Kill a person inside
And outside.
I know I need to be more cautious
So I don’t hurt anybody
Ever again.
I never realized
How sick I am of hurting people
Until I looked behind and saw
The damage left by the wake
Of my passing.
I never realized
How much I love
To hold a person close
To feel their warmth in my arms
I never realized
How much I write
When the emotions being
To surge
I never realized
How I can’t hold back
When I get started
Nothing can stop me.
Don’t stop me.
Rapid Write 2-1-10
Getting Lost
It's easy to get lost just about anywhere. Get lost in a book, in a song, in the eyes of someone you love. It's far too easy to get lost when your student teacher goes off on an insanely complicated problem in Geometry.
But when you find yourself lost in a strange city, airport, or forest with no one you trust there to help you, the panic starts. You're afraid to ask for help from a stranger. Stranger danger.
When you take a wrong turn in life, you feel lost. Helpless. You've lost your connection with your family. You can't find the guidance of your parents. You can't remember where you went wrong.
But there is help. Your parents are asleep in the room across the hall. They are always there for you. They will listen if you take the time to talk.
Friends and family will help you find your way once again, and will do their best to keep you from drifting off and plunging into the ditch on the side of the road.
It's easy to get lost just about anywhere. Get lost in a book, in a song, in the eyes of someone you love. It's far too easy to get lost when your student teacher goes off on an insanely complicated problem in Geometry.
But when you find yourself lost in a strange city, airport, or forest with no one you trust there to help you, the panic starts. You're afraid to ask for help from a stranger. Stranger danger.
When you take a wrong turn in life, you feel lost. Helpless. You've lost your connection with your family. You can't find the guidance of your parents. You can't remember where you went wrong.
But there is help. Your parents are asleep in the room across the hall. They are always there for you. They will listen if you take the time to talk.
Friends and family will help you find your way once again, and will do their best to keep you from drifting off and plunging into the ditch on the side of the road.
Rapid Write 1-28-10
The Best Christmas Ever
All of the Christmas presents had been opened, and she was a little disappointed. She was super grateful for the things she had received, but she had been so sure she was getting a new saxophone. Her brother had gotten a new trombone for Christmas his sophomore year, and her parents said she would get a new saxophone her sophomore year.
Then life happened.
Dad had received "honorary leave" or something for two weeks at Christmas that year, with no pay, and mom worked at an elementary school, so she didn't get paid when the kids were out.
She picked up a cinnamon roll and a glass of eggnog and began to eat when dad asked her to get a can of peaches out of the food storage. She made her brother to it, and screamed through a mouth of cinnamon rolls when she saw it-a box with the Cannonball Logo. Her dream come true! But her hands were covered in frosting! She screamed as she ran for the sink, choking on cinnamon roll. Mom videotaped the entire spaz attack.
The saxophone. All black, with black stones on the keys. A little piece of heaven in her hands. The best Christmas ever.
All of the Christmas presents had been opened, and she was a little disappointed. She was super grateful for the things she had received, but she had been so sure she was getting a new saxophone. Her brother had gotten a new trombone for Christmas his sophomore year, and her parents said she would get a new saxophone her sophomore year.
Then life happened.
Dad had received "honorary leave" or something for two weeks at Christmas that year, with no pay, and mom worked at an elementary school, so she didn't get paid when the kids were out.
She picked up a cinnamon roll and a glass of eggnog and began to eat when dad asked her to get a can of peaches out of the food storage. She made her brother to it, and screamed through a mouth of cinnamon rolls when she saw it-a box with the Cannonball Logo. Her dream come true! But her hands were covered in frosting! She screamed as she ran for the sink, choking on cinnamon roll. Mom videotaped the entire spaz attack.
The saxophone. All black, with black stones on the keys. A little piece of heaven in her hands. The best Christmas ever.
Point of View/Autobiography 1-28-10 and 1-31-10
Computer Chair-my P.O.V.
I did a double take when I saw my older brother's head zip past the front-room window, his grinning mouth releasing a scream mixed with joy and terror. I watched as he walked back to the top of our street, pushing mom's old office chair before him. Down the street once more before my mom opened the front door and yelled, "PUT A HELMET ON!" rather than "YOU STOP RIGHT THIS INSTANT AND COME INSIDE!" like any other mom would've yelled. We'd just moved into this house, and none of the neighbors were Matthew's age. He was bored out of his mind until he found that office chair. He's 4 years older than me, and he is my very best friend. Matthew is famous throughout our ward for riding an office chair down the street, with his uneven front teeth and shockingly blonde hair. He had been my hero since I was little, and this made him spectacular.
Computer Chair-Matthew's P.O.V.
I'm so bored! I thought, wandering aimlessly around the house. I missed my friends from the little white house on Center Street. I didn't have any friends my age in the neighborhood, and the summer was dragging
on and on.
Then I found it: mom's old office chair. I knew I could do something entertaining with it, but spinning around and around was making me feel like I was going to throw up. Then it hit me.
I smiled as I dragged the chair out the front door. The summer heat slammed into me as I pushed the old black chair up to the circle at the top of my new street. After seating myself, I took a deep breath and pushed myself off. A scream ripped out of my throat as the chair picked up speed. To a 10 year old, it seemed I hit terminal velocity just as I rocketed past my house.
After another equally thrilling run, my mom told me to put a helmet on. I didn't think it would do much good if I crashed, because I'd be a goner anyway.
The neighbors noticed my strange idea of a good time, and I knew I'd be famous for a long time.
Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all...
Computer Chair-Chair's P.O.V.
My life was always pretty boring, to be honest. I mean, have you ever had someone sit on you for hours and hours, and then expect you to spin them in circles over and over again? It's really tiring, and it gets old really fast.
One day, during one of my breaks from being sat on, I was minding my own business when this little super-blonde runt starts dragging me outside. It was the middle of June, and when you're as black as me, you heat up pretty fast.
So this kid pushes me up this street, then sits on me! This kid has more than a few bolts loose. I thought, Why did he bring me up here?
Then I felt my wheel's moving involuntarily. I couldn't control them! As soon as the little runt started screaming, I knew my life was over. We zoomed down his street, and no one could hear my silent scream.
As we rolled to a stop, I found myself laughing. It was so much fun! Terrifying, insane, and more than a little suicidal, but I knew from that point on, this little runt would be my friend.
What an exciting day.
I did a double take when I saw my older brother's head zip past the front-room window, his grinning mouth releasing a scream mixed with joy and terror. I watched as he walked back to the top of our street, pushing mom's old office chair before him. Down the street once more before my mom opened the front door and yelled, "PUT A HELMET ON!" rather than "YOU STOP RIGHT THIS INSTANT AND COME INSIDE!" like any other mom would've yelled. We'd just moved into this house, and none of the neighbors were Matthew's age. He was bored out of his mind until he found that office chair. He's 4 years older than me, and he is my very best friend. Matthew is famous throughout our ward for riding an office chair down the street, with his uneven front teeth and shockingly blonde hair. He had been my hero since I was little, and this made him spectacular.
Computer Chair-Matthew's P.O.V.
I'm so bored! I thought, wandering aimlessly around the house. I missed my friends from the little white house on Center Street. I didn't have any friends my age in the neighborhood, and the summer was dragging
on and on.
Then I found it: mom's old office chair. I knew I could do something entertaining with it, but spinning around and around was making me feel like I was going to throw up. Then it hit me.
I smiled as I dragged the chair out the front door. The summer heat slammed into me as I pushed the old black chair up to the circle at the top of my new street. After seating myself, I took a deep breath and pushed myself off. A scream ripped out of my throat as the chair picked up speed. To a 10 year old, it seemed I hit terminal velocity just as I rocketed past my house.
After another equally thrilling run, my mom told me to put a helmet on. I didn't think it would do much good if I crashed, because I'd be a goner anyway.
The neighbors noticed my strange idea of a good time, and I knew I'd be famous for a long time.
Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all...
Computer Chair-Chair's P.O.V.
My life was always pretty boring, to be honest. I mean, have you ever had someone sit on you for hours and hours, and then expect you to spin them in circles over and over again? It's really tiring, and it gets old really fast.
One day, during one of my breaks from being sat on, I was minding my own business when this little super-blonde runt starts dragging me outside. It was the middle of June, and when you're as black as me, you heat up pretty fast.
So this kid pushes me up this street, then sits on me! This kid has more than a few bolts loose. I thought, Why did he bring me up here?
Then I felt my wheel's moving involuntarily. I couldn't control them! As soon as the little runt started screaming, I knew my life was over. We zoomed down his street, and no one could hear my silent scream.
As we rolled to a stop, I found myself laughing. It was so much fun! Terrifying, insane, and more than a little suicidal, but I knew from that point on, this little runt would be my friend.
What an exciting day.
Rapid Write 1-26-10
Sonny Rollins is an amazing tenor saxophone player. Last term in Jazz Band II, I tried to transcribe his version of St. Thomas. The melody was pretty easy, but I got really frustrated with his improv to get any further past the catchy tune. My good friend Madeleine did her artist report on Sonny Rollins.
I like to listen to jazz while I do my homework. My knowledge of jazz artists is tiny, but I'm working on finding the ones that I like. Listening to jazz helps one who is studying jazz get better at playing jazz.
I'm not very good at improv. Not compared to Michael and Branson. They are really good and I feel pretty stupid when Mr. Turnblom calls on me to solo just after Michael finishes. I didn't know what a chord was until Summer Jazz Band, 09'. I'm trying to learn my chords and scales because knowing them will improve my improv. Hmm... Improve improv. I improve improv if I investigate important information. That's an alliteration, I think, anyway.
I'm excited for lunch! I'm going to Allison Sorenson's house for Laurel Lunch, and Jenny has made cheesy potato soup and bread bowls! Mmm... Cheesy potato soup is my very most favorite soup. And you can't go wrong with a tasty, soggy bowl of bread. My stomach is growling pretty bad now. :)
I'm nervous for Solo and Ensemble. I'm so not ready, and I'm not sure if I need to find a pianist to accompany me or not. I should practice when I get home because I don't have mutual tonight since we're having it during lunch to eat yummy soup.
I'm hungry!!!
Oh! There's pep band on Friday! I LOVE PEP BAND SO MUCH! It's the highlight of my week!
I need to work on my handwriting. It's pretty manly. I wish I had cute handwriting like so many girls do.
I'm tired of snow! I want rain! And thunderstorms! I love thunderstorms. Ever since I was little, I've st in the living room and watch the lightening. I sometimes have the window open so I can hear the clashes of thunder. Rain smells good.
WOW! That was way random!
I like to listen to jazz while I do my homework. My knowledge of jazz artists is tiny, but I'm working on finding the ones that I like. Listening to jazz helps one who is studying jazz get better at playing jazz.
I'm not very good at improv. Not compared to Michael and Branson. They are really good and I feel pretty stupid when Mr. Turnblom calls on me to solo just after Michael finishes. I didn't know what a chord was until Summer Jazz Band, 09'. I'm trying to learn my chords and scales because knowing them will improve my improv. Hmm... Improve improv. I improve improv if I investigate important information. That's an alliteration, I think, anyway.
I'm excited for lunch! I'm going to Allison Sorenson's house for Laurel Lunch, and Jenny has made cheesy potato soup and bread bowls! Mmm... Cheesy potato soup is my very most favorite soup. And you can't go wrong with a tasty, soggy bowl of bread. My stomach is growling pretty bad now. :)
I'm nervous for Solo and Ensemble. I'm so not ready, and I'm not sure if I need to find a pianist to accompany me or not. I should practice when I get home because I don't have mutual tonight since we're having it during lunch to eat yummy soup.
I'm hungry!!!
Oh! There's pep band on Friday! I LOVE PEP BAND SO MUCH! It's the highlight of my week!
I need to work on my handwriting. It's pretty manly. I wish I had cute handwriting like so many girls do.
I'm tired of snow! I want rain! And thunderstorms! I love thunderstorms. Ever since I was little, I've st in the living room and watch the lightening. I sometimes have the window open so I can hear the clashes of thunder. Rain smells good.
WOW! That was way random!
Ears 1-22-10
Ears
I think ears are funny. They stick out the side of your head. They are usually the first things to get frostbite. Since I am studying music, I'm able to recognize a chord change in a song. With my ears, I can gain knowledge from a teacher. I can ease someone's burden by listening to their troubles and thoughts. I can hear someone cry in anguish or laugh in absolute joy.
That last song was in 4/4 time. With my ears I was able to hear 3 counts cowbell, 1 count rest, and 1 measure rest, then it repeated. I can hear someone's message to the world through their music. Music is a universal language. It speaks to the soul, and whispers to the heart.
I don't really like soprano opera singers. They kind of give me a headache. I prefer tenor and bass singers. They're so much easier to listen to, and they're calming.
My desk is causing my butt quite an amount of pain right now. I'm getting tired of sitting all the time. School isn't very good for one's posture, I've decided. Our super heavy backpacks cause us to hunch over, and the shoulder muscles get really tense. People say that my shoulder massages are like a little piece of heaven. I wouldn't know, because I can't get my hands at the right angle to give myself a shoulder massage. But it's friday, so it's a good day. I hope it rains this weekend. The air needs to get cleared out.
Haha! Barry White?! Really! I could barely keep my giggles down when the song started. I thought about the day after Christmas when I woke up to my family listening to Barry White while taking down the Christmas decoartions. It was a weird day. Barry White is an enormous black guy.
I'm not racist, honestly! It was just really suprising to listen to Barry White during school.
So I don't understand. Is it offensive and wrong to call someone black? Because then people think you're racist, but if you say they're African American, some people look at you like you're crazy!
I think ears are funny. They stick out the side of your head. They are usually the first things to get frostbite. Since I am studying music, I'm able to recognize a chord change in a song. With my ears, I can gain knowledge from a teacher. I can ease someone's burden by listening to their troubles and thoughts. I can hear someone cry in anguish or laugh in absolute joy.
That last song was in 4/4 time. With my ears I was able to hear 3 counts cowbell, 1 count rest, and 1 measure rest, then it repeated. I can hear someone's message to the world through their music. Music is a universal language. It speaks to the soul, and whispers to the heart.
I don't really like soprano opera singers. They kind of give me a headache. I prefer tenor and bass singers. They're so much easier to listen to, and they're calming.
My desk is causing my butt quite an amount of pain right now. I'm getting tired of sitting all the time. School isn't very good for one's posture, I've decided. Our super heavy backpacks cause us to hunch over, and the shoulder muscles get really tense. People say that my shoulder massages are like a little piece of heaven. I wouldn't know, because I can't get my hands at the right angle to give myself a shoulder massage. But it's friday, so it's a good day. I hope it rains this weekend. The air needs to get cleared out.
Haha! Barry White?! Really! I could barely keep my giggles down when the song started. I thought about the day after Christmas when I woke up to my family listening to Barry White while taking down the Christmas decoartions. It was a weird day. Barry White is an enormous black guy.
I'm not racist, honestly! It was just really suprising to listen to Barry White during school.
So I don't understand. Is it offensive and wrong to call someone black? Because then people think you're racist, but if you say they're African American, some people look at you like you're crazy!
The Ocean of Life 1-20-10
The Ocean of Life
Our moment in time is just a raindrop in the ocean. No body thinks that they matter. But what would the ocean of the world be like without you? If the world never saw the sunlight of your smile, who would have drown long ago?
Every action you choose to perform will change the shape of this vast ocean. Don't just tred water: jump in and make a splash. Your ripples will continue forever.
Never let your glass of friendship fill up. Let someone else drink from the goblet of your goodness, let them sip of your sweetness.
You have a unique flavor that is hard to forget.
Our moment in time is just a raindrop in the ocean. No body thinks that they matter. But what would the ocean of the world be like without you? If the world never saw the sunlight of your smile, who would have drown long ago?
Every action you choose to perform will change the shape of this vast ocean. Don't just tred water: jump in and make a splash. Your ripples will continue forever.
Never let your glass of friendship fill up. Let someone else drink from the goblet of your goodness, let them sip of your sweetness.
You have a unique flavor that is hard to forget.
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