Christmas 2
The snowman was as still as a tree, said my cousin. No matter what he did to that snowman he still did not move nor flinch even the slightest bit. Whack! A snowball hit the snowman directly in the back of the head; he still did not move. My cousin turned to me and said, “Can you make him move?” I said “Oh no, he is too good for me. But I really think you can do it!” and let me tell you that made him smile. But as soon as I turned back to see what he was doing the snowman was no more. He looked up and said, “He slipped!”
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Christmas time
CHRISTMAS
Sitting by the fire I heard the crackle of the wood popping in the background. String snapping and paper being torn is coming from every direction. Colby, Brady, and my brother are all tearing off the paper on their presents. Sitting in the rocking chair sipping apple sider my mom and I watch the craziness. Like every year they get older but still enjoy unwrapping those presents. We will always have this night in our minds for it is the day before Christmas.
Sitting by the fire I heard the crackle of the wood popping in the background. String snapping and paper being torn is coming from every direction. Colby, Brady, and my brother are all tearing off the paper on their presents. Sitting in the rocking chair sipping apple sider my mom and I watch the craziness. Like every year they get older but still enjoy unwrapping those presents. We will always have this night in our minds for it is the day before Christmas.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Smells of Christmas
Cinnamon sticks scattered around the house.
Candy cane cookies baking in the oven.
The pine Christmas tree blowing as the breeze sweeps through the room.
Melting mint chocolate drizzled over angel food cake.
White peppermint sticks melting in the window seal.
Yankee Doodle candles burning aroma throughout the house.
Fire burning logs and smoke arising into the air.
Oh the sweet, sweet smell of Christmas!
Candy cane cookies baking in the oven.
The pine Christmas tree blowing as the breeze sweeps through the room.
Melting mint chocolate drizzled over angel food cake.
White peppermint sticks melting in the window seal.
Yankee Doodle candles burning aroma throughout the house.
Fire burning logs and smoke arising into the air.
Oh the sweet, sweet smell of Christmas!
Christmas Alliterations
Frozen flakes freely fall upon the frowning, frosted faces.
Candy canes, crunchy Christmas candies can be quite tasty.
Santa’s special sleigh, slides down several slopes of snow.
Shivering Santa, sleigh is stuck in a sleet and shuddering storm.
Precious presents are protected by purple wrapping paper.
Reindeer roar and run rapidly until arriving on your roof.
Candy canes, crunchy Christmas candies can be quite tasty.
Santa’s special sleigh, slides down several slopes of snow.
Shivering Santa, sleigh is stuck in a sleet and shuddering storm.
Precious presents are protected by purple wrapping paper.
Reindeer roar and run rapidly until arriving on your roof.
Something Pretty from Something Ugly
In an old-car
junk yard,
where there is
no hope
and no sense
of redemption,
the sun shines down on
an old cracked windshield,
creating magnificent beams
of rainbow-colored lights.
junk yard,
where there is
no hope
and no sense
of redemption,
the sun shines down on
an old cracked windshield,
creating magnificent beams
of rainbow-colored lights.
Friday, December 11, 2009
gift truck
GIFT TRUCK
· 1975 Chevy truck, full bed, single cab, rusted blue, with dents in the doors and the sides
· Use it: chase coyotes, drive around take friends to the lake, go mudding chase girls, and have fun
· Fix it up” paint it hot red, buy new doors and get the dents taken out, buy chrome everything, tint the windows, put new (bigger) tires on it, put a bigger lift on it, put base and new speakers in it, replace everything I can in the engine, buy new exhaust, new suspension, new seats, paint inside, make everything on the inside new, anything else…
· Maybe build or buy a new garage to put it in, only I will drive it, everywhere (use it every day).
· It is a older truck and after fixing it up it is something not to break or mess up
· 1975 Chevy truck, full bed, single cab, rusted blue, with dents in the doors and the sides
· Use it: chase coyotes, drive around take friends to the lake, go mudding chase girls, and have fun
· Fix it up” paint it hot red, buy new doors and get the dents taken out, buy chrome everything, tint the windows, put new (bigger) tires on it, put a bigger lift on it, put base and new speakers in it, replace everything I can in the engine, buy new exhaust, new suspension, new seats, paint inside, make everything on the inside new, anything else…
· Maybe build or buy a new garage to put it in, only I will drive it, everywhere (use it every day).
· It is a older truck and after fixing it up it is something not to break or mess up
food in five
FOOD IN FIVE
I love the potatoes my grandma makes every Christmas. They are different than any potatoes anybody else I know makes. She putts green leaves in them and something about it gives them a special taste. Walking into the house and automatically knowing they are on the stove cooking. With some visible chunks they look like skin-on mashed potatoes but they aren’t; I can’t wait until this Christmas and to fill my plate with those amazing potatoes.
I love the potatoes my grandma makes every Christmas. They are different than any potatoes anybody else I know makes. She putts green leaves in them and something about it gives them a special taste. Walking into the house and automatically knowing they are on the stove cooking. With some visible chunks they look like skin-on mashed potatoes but they aren’t; I can’t wait until this Christmas and to fill my plate with those amazing potatoes.
happiness
ALPHABET POEMS
H aving good times
A lways laughing
P utting her before them
P utting your heart before others
I n a dream
N ever wanting to wake up
E ventually getting old together
S oaking up the sun
S itting in the rocking chair
H aving good times
A lways laughing
P utting her before them
P utting your heart before others
I n a dream
N ever wanting to wake up
E ventually getting old together
S oaking up the sun
S itting in the rocking chair
brave new world
BRAVE NEW WORLD
Far, far away lived the Flupdie-doos of never, never land. Living in a world full of green grass and tall trees the Flupdie-doos reside in the high branches of the Swaying Susan tree. The swaying Susan tree is one that makes an orange\lemon cross fruit; this is all the Flupdie-doos eat. Breathing O2 like any other human the fruit deforms them, making them similar but not the same as humans. With a square head, only three fingers, and four toes they are quite a sight for your eyes. Living and roaming free the Flupdie-doos have an easy life of eating, sleeping, and making their fort in the Swaying Susan’s bigger.
Far, far away lived the Flupdie-doos of never, never land. Living in a world full of green grass and tall trees the Flupdie-doos reside in the high branches of the Swaying Susan tree. The swaying Susan tree is one that makes an orange\lemon cross fruit; this is all the Flupdie-doos eat. Breathing O2 like any other human the fruit deforms them, making them similar but not the same as humans. With a square head, only three fingers, and four toes they are quite a sight for your eyes. Living and roaming free the Flupdie-doos have an easy life of eating, sleeping, and making their fort in the Swaying Susan’s bigger.
"G"
Girls get giggly
When guys go around
Them. Green eyes get
Dark and they start to
Blush. Growing out of the fact that guys have gross cooties, she gets her heart broke until she got the guy that gives her happiness.
Growing old
Together she gets
Grouchy and the
Other guys stay out
Of her way.
When guys go around
Them. Green eyes get
Dark and they start to
Blush. Growing out of the fact that guys have gross cooties, she gets her heart broke until she got the guy that gives her happiness.
Growing old
Together she gets
Grouchy and the
Other guys stay out
Of her way.
it seemed like a good idea...
IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME
Trent had just built a swing next to the hay stack with a big three strand rope. The seat on the rope was at the bottom and really low so he had to jump to make it on. Landing flat on his back and losing his air, he remembered the three strand rope only had one left.
Trent had just built a swing next to the hay stack with a big three strand rope. The seat on the rope was at the bottom and really low so he had to jump to make it on. Landing flat on his back and losing his air, he remembered the three strand rope only had one left.
valentine
VALENTINE
Not a bracelet or a box of chocolates.
I give you nothing.
It is a gift from my heart,
It promises forever
Like the wonderful meaning of love
Here.
It will stun you with tears
Like a lover.
It will make you think
About how much it means
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a card or a rose.
I give you nothing.
Its kiss will stay on your lips
As we are,
Far as long as we are.
Take it.
It saves money for your ring,
If you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your thoughts
Cling to your life.
Not a bracelet or a box of chocolates.
I give you nothing.
It is a gift from my heart,
It promises forever
Like the wonderful meaning of love
Here.
It will stun you with tears
Like a lover.
It will make you think
About how much it means
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a card or a rose.
I give you nothing.
Its kiss will stay on your lips
As we are,
Far as long as we are.
Take it.
It saves money for your ring,
If you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your thoughts
Cling to your life.
building poetry
BUILDING POETRY
School
Serious, painful
Learning, reading, writing
A place to make friends
Work
School
Serious, painful
Learning, reading, writing
A place to make friends
Work
five sentence poems 2
FIVE SENTENCE POEMS
Love is rose red.
It sounds like laughter and seriousness.
It feels like the first kiss.
It smells like hair spray and cologne.
It tastes like the sweetest of sweets on your lips
Love is rose red.
It sounds like laughter and seriousness.
It feels like the first kiss.
It smells like hair spray and cologne.
It tastes like the sweetest of sweets on your lips
five sentence poems
FIVE SENTENCE POEMS
High school is dark yellow.
It feels like a great day every day.
It smells like books and pencil shavings.
It tastes like a sour candy eventually getting sweet.It sounds like preschool, but with squeaks and deep voices
High school is dark yellow.
It feels like a great day every day.
It smells like books and pencil shavings.
It tastes like a sour candy eventually getting sweet.It sounds like preschool, but with squeaks and deep voices
haiku with personification
Haiku with Personification
Brown grass waves its arms.
Excited to see someone walk by.
Wishing, but not moving up.
Brown grass waves its arms.
Excited to see someone walk by.
Wishing, but not moving up.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Someday Poem
SOMEDAY…
Someday I will graduate high school.
Someday I will go to college.
Someday I will write about things that matter.
Someday I will have a career.
Someday I will make a difference.
SOMEDAY.
Someday I will graduate high school.
Someday I will go to college.
Someday I will write about things that matter.
Someday I will have a career.
Someday I will make a difference.
SOMEDAY.
Building Poem
Teenager
outgoing, youthful
growing, developing, changing
slowly becoming more mature
Adult
outgoing, youthful
growing, developing, changing
slowly becoming more mature
Adult
Alphabet Poem
Teeth chattering
Heavy breathing
Racing heart
Intensive shivering
Lack of focus
Lack of stillness
Shaking uncontrollably
Heavy breathing
Racing heart
Intensive shivering
Lack of focus
Lack of stillness
Shaking uncontrollably
Haiku Poems
Radiant, hot sun
strongly beats down upon you.
There is no escape.
Bright autumn colors
vibrantly blow in the wind
whisking across Earth.
strongly beats down upon you.
There is no escape.
Bright autumn colors
vibrantly blow in the wind
whisking across Earth.
Five Sense Poem
Happiness is pink.
It sounds like children’s laughter.
It feels like a blanket of sunshine laid upon your shoulders.
It smells like newly baked chocolate chip cookies.
It tastes like cold, wet lemonade sliding down your throat.
It sounds like children’s laughter.
It feels like a blanket of sunshine laid upon your shoulders.
It smells like newly baked chocolate chip cookies.
It tastes like cold, wet lemonade sliding down your throat.
Three Word Poem
Breeze, cloud, sprinkle
cloud, sprinkle, rain
sprinkle, rain, pour
rain, pour, thunder
pour, thunder, lightning
thunder, lightning, FLASH.
cloud, sprinkle, rain
sprinkle, rain, pour
rain, pour, thunder
pour, thunder, lightning
thunder, lightning, FLASH.
Rhetorical Question Poem
I wonder if they like being roads.
I suppose they don’t.
Always being walked on,
hardly every being cleaned.
They are never ending,
and are usually very confusing.
Plus, they are many people’s trash cans.
I suppose they don’t.
Always being walked on,
hardly every being cleaned.
They are never ending,
and are usually very confusing.
Plus, they are many people’s trash cans.
List Poem
Things You Smell in School:
-Body odor
-Perfume
-White-board markers
-Cafeteria food
-Rotting locker foods
-Crayola markers
-Pencil lead
-Clay from art class
-Body odor
-Perfume
-White-board markers
-Cafeteria food
-Rotting locker foods
-Crayola markers
-Pencil lead
-Clay from art class
I am Poem #2
I am, creative and mysterious.
I wonder what the world would be like without violence.
I hear a magical bell.
I see a magical land.
I want to be someone calm and peaceful.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I pretend to fly in the clouds.
I feel as if violence is a stranger.
I touch a world of neutrality.
I worry our society is weakening.
I cry to see what we are turning into.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I understand that this is way beyond actuality.
I say that our world needs to open its eyes.
I dream of a land of peace.
I try to help make this reality.
I hope others join me in this wish.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I wonder what the world would be like without violence.
I hear a magical bell.
I see a magical land.
I want to be someone calm and peaceful.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I pretend to fly in the clouds.
I feel as if violence is a stranger.
I touch a world of neutrality.
I worry our society is weakening.
I cry to see what we are turning into.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I understand that this is way beyond actuality.
I say that our world needs to open its eyes.
I dream of a land of peace.
I try to help make this reality.
I hope others join me in this wish.
I am, creative and mysterious.
I am Poem #1
I am
Youth, Faith, Pure
I strongly care about the life I live and my future.
Honesty, a sense of humor, and laughter are important to me.
I trust and believe in myself.
Everyone makes mistakes, but genuine people realize,
accept, and correct them
I think our world is getting lazy.
I respect people who speak their minds.
I do my best to make a difference.
I am.
Youth, Faith, Pure
I strongly care about the life I live and my future.
Honesty, a sense of humor, and laughter are important to me.
I trust and believe in myself.
Everyone makes mistakes, but genuine people realize,
accept, and correct them
I think our world is getting lazy.
I respect people who speak their minds.
I do my best to make a difference.
I am.
Monday, December 7, 2009
bad day from the start
”COMIC-TRAGEDIES”
When I woke up, I slid out of bed and hit my head
On the night stand and my mom asked me
How I go t the knot on my four-head. She smiled
Because she already knew, I had done it before,
But she told me not to let it ruin my day.
I could already tell my day was only going to get worse.
As I walked down the stairs to my mom’s car,
I slipped on the ice and fell in the snow, I got up
And dusted myself off when I slipped again.
This time falling on my butt, my mom just
Gave a bad look!
I wish I could just stay home.
On the drive to school my mom started yelling
At me out of nowhere. I had absolutely no clue what
She was talking about until she said grades!
“You better get that C up Mr.” She said. “Yes mother,”
And I didn’t say another word.
In biology I got my test back and couldn’t believe
My score, 95%! But then Mrs. Yowell took it back because
It wasn’t mine she said. Aww man I got a 65%. Now I had a
C in that class too, Oh No!
If only I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.
When I woke up, I slid out of bed and hit my head
On the night stand and my mom asked me
How I go t the knot on my four-head. She smiled
Because she already knew, I had done it before,
But she told me not to let it ruin my day.
I could already tell my day was only going to get worse.
As I walked down the stairs to my mom’s car,
I slipped on the ice and fell in the snow, I got up
And dusted myself off when I slipped again.
This time falling on my butt, my mom just
Gave a bad look!
I wish I could just stay home.
On the drive to school my mom started yelling
At me out of nowhere. I had absolutely no clue what
She was talking about until she said grades!
“You better get that C up Mr.” She said. “Yes mother,”
And I didn’t say another word.
In biology I got my test back and couldn’t believe
My score, 95%! But then Mrs. Yowell took it back because
It wasn’t mine she said. Aww man I got a 65%. Now I had a
C in that class too, Oh No!
If only I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.
magic pictures
Magic pictures
What’s that crab doing
Under the sand?
And look—broken she shells
On the sand, scattered around
Everywhere like poka dots.
Pretty cool.
Doesn’t the air smell fresh!
I love the push that comes off the waves.
Kind of relaxing.
Those clear dark waves crashing on the sand are
Tempting, but I don’t think
I’ll go in today.
What’s that crab doing
Under the sand?
And look—broken she shells
On the sand, scattered around
Everywhere like poka dots.
Pretty cool.
Doesn’t the air smell fresh!
I love the push that comes off the waves.
Kind of relaxing.
Those clear dark waves crashing on the sand are
Tempting, but I don’t think
I’ll go in today.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
changing scenes
CHANGING SCENES
Darkness,
Cold and foggy;
Worried I was alone,
Unusually silent and calm.
Nobody was awake
For it was too late to be outside.
Shining brightly
The sun appears on the east horizon.
Warmth, joy, and happiness
Fills the air quickly.
Life being shown,
Enjoyment shows on faces.
Warmth being the key
For smiles and laughing,
Both dark and light
Are “day.”
Equal amounts of both,
Cheerfulness and doubt
All in a 24 hour span.
Darkness,
Cold and foggy;
Worried I was alone,
Unusually silent and calm.
Nobody was awake
For it was too late to be outside.
Shining brightly
The sun appears on the east horizon.
Warmth, joy, and happiness
Fills the air quickly.
Life being shown,
Enjoyment shows on faces.
Warmth being the key
For smiles and laughing,
Both dark and light
Are “day.”
Equal amounts of both,
Cheerfulness and doubt
All in a 24 hour span.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
School Days Poems
Spanish is a newborn baby hearing words for the first time,
dazed and confused and completely clueless.
Spanish is going out to dinner and barely understanding,
your waiter, because of his accent.
Spanish is hearing an unfamiliar tune and breaking out in
dance, without knowing what culture you’re representing.
Spanish is being asked a question and being stared at until
you give a reply, and you have nothing to say.
If all the people in America knew Spanish, there would be
a huge decrease in confusion and misinterpretation.
Spanish is passing your friend in the hallway and
jokingly saying “Que Pasa Amigo!”
Spanish is doing the cha-cha and shimmy at your
local high school dance.
If a friend jokingly tries to greet you by rambling the words
“me gusta comer pastel” just because they sound Spanish
and you know that means “I like to eat pie,”
then who knows Spanish better?
dazed and confused and completely clueless.
Spanish is going out to dinner and barely understanding,
your waiter, because of his accent.
Spanish is hearing an unfamiliar tune and breaking out in
dance, without knowing what culture you’re representing.
Spanish is being asked a question and being stared at until
you give a reply, and you have nothing to say.
If all the people in America knew Spanish, there would be
a huge decrease in confusion and misinterpretation.
Spanish is passing your friend in the hallway and
jokingly saying “Que Pasa Amigo!”
Spanish is doing the cha-cha and shimmy at your
local high school dance.
If a friend jokingly tries to greet you by rambling the words
“me gusta comer pastel” just because they sound Spanish
and you know that means “I like to eat pie,”
then who knows Spanish better?
school days
SCHOOL DAYS POEMS
Geometry is a big equation of numbers for the math engineer’s ancient times.
Geometry is finding how much space a piece of wood takes up
Geometry is finding how much water you can put in your bath tub.
Geometry is much more that your check book and finding your balance.
If everybody on the streets knew geometry the world would be more complicated than it is now.
Geometry is homework you didn’t do so you could get help, which you never get.
Geometry is the one failing grade you need to get up before semester.
If your father only knew geometry he would understand how hard the class is.
Geometry is a big equation of numbers for the math engineer’s ancient times.
Geometry is finding how much space a piece of wood takes up
Geometry is finding how much water you can put in your bath tub.
Geometry is much more that your check book and finding your balance.
If everybody on the streets knew geometry the world would be more complicated than it is now.
Geometry is homework you didn’t do so you could get help, which you never get.
Geometry is the one failing grade you need to get up before semester.
If your father only knew geometry he would understand how hard the class is.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Quality Poem
Quality Poem
I sat alone on the trail
resting walk- tired spirit
waiting to be refreshed.
The silence broke; a warm breeze
whipped my hair towards the east.
With a pleasant touch, love
gently swept across my face.
I felt her compassionate hands;
she told me I was not alone.
I sat alone on the trail
resting walk- tired spirit
waiting to be refreshed.
The silence broke; a warm breeze
whipped my hair towards the east.
With a pleasant touch, love
gently swept across my face.
I felt her compassionate hands;
she told me I was not alone.
Month Metaphor
Month Metaphor
July struts in
ferocious and feisty.
Blowing her breath of heat
left and right, up and down.
She smothers the land
with her fever,
and then prances out,
flaunting her radiance.
July struts in
ferocious and feisty.
Blowing her breath of heat
left and right, up and down.
She smothers the land
with her fever,
and then prances out,
flaunting her radiance.
Question Poem
Question Poem
Can you see me?
Is this really occurring?
Or am I only dreaming?
or fantasizing? or imagining?
Is this reality?
or just a part of
the creative journey
within my imagination?
Can you see me?
Is this really occurring?
Or am I only dreaming?
or fantasizing? or imagining?
Is this reality?
or just a part of
the creative journey
within my imagination?
Impossible!
Impossible Poem
How can this be?!
Not even 12 hours ago I was here.
Sitting comfortably in my living room,
dazing into the luxurious big screen.
Not only 12 hours ago was I inside,
slowly getting ready for the day.
12 hours later I return,
to this. To what?!
To nothing.
An empty field now sits
where my house used to be.
Not a board, not a shingle,
not even a nail on the ground.
Almost like it was never there.
How can this be?
Impossible!
How can this be?!
Not even 12 hours ago I was here.
Sitting comfortably in my living room,
dazing into the luxurious big screen.
Not only 12 hours ago was I inside,
slowly getting ready for the day.
12 hours later I return,
to this. To what?!
To nothing.
An empty field now sits
where my house used to be.
Not a board, not a shingle,
not even a nail on the ground.
Almost like it was never there.
How can this be?
Impossible!
month metaphores
MONTH METAPHORES
December strolls in
With its cold thoughts of snow
And breathe of ice.
It stomps on any green grass left
And turns the ground white,
Skipping its way away!
December strolls in
With its cold thoughts of snow
And breathe of ice.
It stomps on any green grass left
And turns the ground white,
Skipping its way away!
contest entry
Trent Capraro
Genoa-Hugo School
Hugo, Colorado
MIDNIGHT
Stars fall
And disappear in seconds.
Coyotes howl,
Voices echoing off the trees.
Crickets chirp,
Calling for a mate.
Silence becomes,
Everything is asleep.
Genoa-Hugo School
Hugo, Colorado
MIDNIGHT
Stars fall
And disappear in seconds.
Coyotes howl,
Voices echoing off the trees.
Crickets chirp,
Calling for a mate.
Silence becomes,
Everything is asleep.
quality poems
QUALITY POEMS
I stood alone on the never ending plains
Resting walk—exhausted legs spread on
Green luscious grass.
Just out of my reach, clouds float
Slowly in the blue ocean.
With tight arms, happiness comes over me
Holding on with a firm grip
I felt it grin.
Silently, it floods in
And changed my thoughts of the huge world.
I stood alone on the never ending plains
Resting walk—exhausted legs spread on
Green luscious grass.
Just out of my reach, clouds float
Slowly in the blue ocean.
With tight arms, happiness comes over me
Holding on with a firm grip
I felt it grin.
Silently, it floods in
And changed my thoughts of the huge world.
Monday, November 30, 2009
impossible
I WISH!
Yesterday was so amazing!
I wish it never would’ve ended.
It seemed so perfect looking into her eyes—
--like seeing my future,
--my hair turning grey and my skin getting
really wrinkly.
I was so happy growing old with her,
I think I will look again today!
Yesterday was so amazing!
I wish it never would’ve ended.
It seemed so perfect looking into her eyes—
--like seeing my future,
--my hair turning grey and my skin getting
really wrinkly.
I was so happy growing old with her,
I think I will look again today!
Q's poem
QUESTIONS POEM
Will forever ever end?
They say that your eyes eventually close.
Will my time eventually come,
will I be no more,
Or will forever ever end?
Will the big man realize I wish to stay,
To keep loving and living.
I have many years left but they are going fast,
So will forever ever end?
Will forever ever end?
They say that your eyes eventually close.
Will my time eventually come,
will I be no more,
Or will forever ever end?
Will the big man realize I wish to stay,
To keep loving and living.
I have many years left but they are going fast,
So will forever ever end?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Don't Eat Me!
Don’t Eat Me!
Can you imagine how disrespected you’d feel if you had a worldwide holiday dedicated to eating you and your family?! It’s rough. I deserve so much more than that. I do not understand what you people find so fascinating about eating me! I am a successful hen. I have children. I have a husband. I am not just a piece of meat! Those babies have to grow up with no mother because of you! It’s disgraceful! Think of it this way; you were walking home one day, minding your own business. SHOOSH! You’re captured, knowing that you would soon be dinner. Never going to say goodbye, and never going to be able to watch your family grow. HOW UNFAIR RIGHT?! It’s not right. So next time you pick up a fork and stare at me, remember that you are ruining a family, and the potential future of a newborn poult.
Can you imagine how disrespected you’d feel if you had a worldwide holiday dedicated to eating you and your family?! It’s rough. I deserve so much more than that. I do not understand what you people find so fascinating about eating me! I am a successful hen. I have children. I have a husband. I am not just a piece of meat! Those babies have to grow up with no mother because of you! It’s disgraceful! Think of it this way; you were walking home one day, minding your own business. SHOOSH! You’re captured, knowing that you would soon be dinner. Never going to say goodbye, and never going to be able to watch your family grow. HOW UNFAIR RIGHT?! It’s not right. So next time you pick up a fork and stare at me, remember that you are ruining a family, and the potential future of a newborn poult.
thanksgiving
THANKSGIVING COLLAGE
I am thankful for this world, with its fears and its happiness—
For the mounds of mashed potatoes covered in gravy,
For the clear blue sky without a cloud in sight,
For the same wisdom of my elders that I hear each year,
For the skill of the eye doctor making it to where I can see the fine details of the beautiful colors,
For the adrenalin rush watching the last few seconds tick by on the Broncos game,
For the gathering of family for one simple reason
For all of these, we gather to eat and give thanks, I thank you!
I am thankful for this world, with its fears and its happiness—
For the mounds of mashed potatoes covered in gravy,
For the clear blue sky without a cloud in sight,
For the same wisdom of my elders that I hear each year,
For the skill of the eye doctor making it to where I can see the fine details of the beautiful colors,
For the adrenalin rush watching the last few seconds tick by on the Broncos game,
For the gathering of family for one simple reason
For all of these, we gather to eat and give thanks, I thank you!
paint chip
SILLY SAMMY
Silly Sammy was a small piece of bread that lived in a plastic bread sack. He was only a little guy so he always had trouble finding and keeping friends. All until the day that Sammy met Billy. Billy was a very large piece of bread and had a very deep voice. He and Sammy had so much in common it was like they were brothers. Billy being almost three times as big as Sammy always had to watch where he was walking so he didn’t smash him. He did really good ad paying attention but there was something odd about Billy that Sammy was starting to notice. When Sam. Wasn’t looking Billy got a weird look in his eye and tried to hide it when Sam would turn around, but wasn’t very good at it. Finally Sammy got up the nerve to ask him why he always looked at him weird but Billy wouldn’t answer him. “Sammy!” called his mother so he turned around to see what was wrong with his mother when it happened. Billy finally snapped and chomped a whole out of Sammy. With only one leg Sammy hopped away as fast as he could but wasn’t fast enough for Billy took one more bite and Sammy was gone forever!
Silly Sammy was a small piece of bread that lived in a plastic bread sack. He was only a little guy so he always had trouble finding and keeping friends. All until the day that Sammy met Billy. Billy was a very large piece of bread and had a very deep voice. He and Sammy had so much in common it was like they were brothers. Billy being almost three times as big as Sammy always had to watch where he was walking so he didn’t smash him. He did really good ad paying attention but there was something odd about Billy that Sammy was starting to notice. When Sam. Wasn’t looking Billy got a weird look in his eye and tried to hide it when Sam would turn around, but wasn’t very good at it. Finally Sammy got up the nerve to ask him why he always looked at him weird but Billy wouldn’t answer him. “Sammy!” called his mother so he turned around to see what was wrong with his mother when it happened. Billy finally snapped and chomped a whole out of Sammy. With only one leg Sammy hopped away as fast as he could but wasn’t fast enough for Billy took one more bite and Sammy was gone forever!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Secrets of Color
Secrets of color
Today, the world is sapphire blue -calm and relaxed.
Blue jays cautiously roam sidewalks buried in seeds,
as rain drops slowly drip from the clouds,
plunging into the crisp waves of the ocean blue.
Time passes slowly on this day of all days,
as the sky turns from baby, to royal, to navy, to midnight.
Today is a blue day –peaceful and carefree.
the secrets of color
THE SECRETS OF COLOR
Have you ever felt saffron yellow?
It is a really good mood, carefree and jubilant.
You are too happy to not grin,
Too fired up to be restful, too cheerful to worry.
The yellow is in your attitude;
You smile is often and everybody loves it!
Have you ever felt saffron yellow?
It is a really good mood, carefree and jubilant.
You are too happy to not grin,
Too fired up to be restful, too cheerful to worry.
The yellow is in your attitude;
You smile is often and everybody loves it!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
series poems
SERIES POEMS
Scary sounds when I am alone—
The door screeches close,
Something moves upstairs,
Water pump turning on by itself,
My dog growling lightly behind me!
And some sounds are not just my imagination.
Scary sounds when I am alone—
The door screeches close,
Something moves upstairs,
Water pump turning on by itself,
My dog growling lightly behind me!
And some sounds are not just my imagination.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Dialogue Poem
Dialogue Poem
“Keep going!” Mind blurted out.
“I can’t!” screamed Body.
Determination shouted, “The race is far from over! Keep going!!”
Exhaustion shrieked, “I’m doing the best I can!”
A struggle, a moment of weakness.
But surprisingly, Willingness stepped in.
“Okay, one more mile is all. I can do it! I can do it!” she echoed.
One mile later, Accomplishment cheered,
“Success! The marathon is completed!”
“Keep going!” Mind blurted out.
“I can’t!” screamed Body.
Determination shouted, “The race is far from over! Keep going!!”
Exhaustion shrieked, “I’m doing the best I can!”
A struggle, a moment of weakness.
But surprisingly, Willingness stepped in.
“Okay, one more mile is all. I can do it! I can do it!” she echoed.
One mile later, Accomplishment cheered,
“Success! The marathon is completed!”
Uncommon Recipes
Recipe for Gossip
Take a harmless event
Add in some ugly motives
Put in a very tiny pinch of actuality
Stir in your own opinion
Put in a good measure of “They say”
Add spicy details to boost up the taste
Sprinkle well with the spice of rumor
Heat slowly over the flame of envy
Serve secretly to as many people as you can,
As often as possible
If you start out with a completely harmless event, add in some ugly motives, a good measure of “They say”, a dash of your own opinion, and some spicy details, you are off to a good start. Mix these all together. Next, sprinkle in a spice of humor, and only include a very small pinch of actuality. When you have completed this, heat over the flame of envy, and serve to as many people as you want, secretly and slyly of course. Your recipe is complete.
uncommon recipes
UNCOMMON RECIPES
A failing grade
Ocean of back talking
Heap of not turned in work
Flurry of bad words
Sprinkle of try
Truckload of failed tests
Pocketful of others work
Empire of cheating
Lifetime of stress
Moment of willingness
First put ocean of back talking, flurry of bad words, pocketful of others work, empire of cheating all together in one day, each day. Throughout the semester put heap of not turned in work, truckloads of failed tests, and a lifetime of stress all together. Finally on the last week of the semester show a sprinkle of try and a brief moment of willingness.
A failing grade
Ocean of back talking
Heap of not turned in work
Flurry of bad words
Sprinkle of try
Truckload of failed tests
Pocketful of others work
Empire of cheating
Lifetime of stress
Moment of willingness
First put ocean of back talking, flurry of bad words, pocketful of others work, empire of cheating all together in one day, each day. Throughout the semester put heap of not turned in work, truckloads of failed tests, and a lifetime of stress all together. Finally on the last week of the semester show a sprinkle of try and a brief moment of willingness.
dialouge poems
DAILOUGE POEMS
“No!” yelled my guts.
“Yes!” screamed my head.
Sportsmanship’s luster “You can’t.”
Hatred bubbles up, “Do it.”
It sat silently.
Hurriedly—picked it up.
The mirror , beamed a flash of light into his eyes,
“Direct hit, he flinched and missed!”
Remorse, unpleasant, joyful,
After, everybody yelled
The loud sound
Of Winning
“No!” yelled my guts.
“Yes!” screamed my head.
Sportsmanship’s luster “You can’t.”
Hatred bubbles up, “Do it.”
It sat silently.
Hurriedly—picked it up.
The mirror , beamed a flash of light into his eyes,
“Direct hit, he flinched and missed!”
Remorse, unpleasant, joyful,
After, everybody yelled
The loud sound
Of Winning
Monday, November 16, 2009
origin story
Back in the day,
Tigers wore beautiful golden coats,
that they were very proud of.
One of the nicest coats belonged to Lee,
a very well known tiger in his woods.
Then one devastating day,
Lee was captured by a heap of feline hunters.
They wanted to use his coat
for blankets and clothing.
The hunters bound him down,
planning to hold him overnight.
Hour after hour Lee tugged,
pulling at the tightly stretched ropes.
The sky darkened
and the hunters left Lee.
He was alone outside, tied up.
PUUUUUULLLL! Finally, he broke free!
The hunters never found him again,
but still to this day,
the tiger has black, charcoal stripes,
from where the ropes
had bound him down!
Tigers wore beautiful golden coats,
that they were very proud of.
One of the nicest coats belonged to Lee,
a very well known tiger in his woods.
Then one devastating day,
Lee was captured by a heap of feline hunters.
They wanted to use his coat
for blankets and clothing.
The hunters bound him down,
planning to hold him overnight.
Hour after hour Lee tugged,
pulling at the tightly stretched ropes.
The sky darkened
and the hunters left Lee.
He was alone outside, tied up.
PUUUUUULLLL! Finally, he broke free!
The hunters never found him again,
but still to this day,
the tiger has black, charcoal stripes,
from where the ropes
had bound him down!
origin stories
ORIGNIN STORIES
One evening,
Far into the future,
An island troll was skipping
Happily along the trail.
Away from humanity,
The troll resided in a cove along the Atlantic.
Seeing a odd colored clam
He reached in to the water to pick it up.
As the clam came out its mouth opened,
And the troll couldn’t believe it;
There was a pearl inside!
So he turned the clam back and took the pearl,
Each year returning on that exact day.
Waiting for that clam
And waiting to take his pearl once more.
One evening,
Far into the future,
An island troll was skipping
Happily along the trail.
Away from humanity,
The troll resided in a cove along the Atlantic.
Seeing a odd colored clam
He reached in to the water to pick it up.
As the clam came out its mouth opened,
And the troll couldn’t believe it;
There was a pearl inside!
So he turned the clam back and took the pearl,
Each year returning on that exact day.
Waiting for that clam
And waiting to take his pearl once more.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Dictionary poem
Dictionary Poem
The penguin was always in such sadness
because of the frigid location he was stuck in.
He was always in such dismay.
One day, he ask the Ice Totem to relocate him,
and due to his probity, the happy penguin now abides in LA.
The penguin was always in such sadness
because of the frigid location he was stuck in.
He was always in such dismay.
One day, he ask the Ice Totem to relocate him,
and due to his probity, the happy penguin now abides in LA.
contrast poem
Contrast Poems
Our elder years—
relieved, relaxed, accomplished,
mature and qualified,
passing on teachings,
the knowledgably.
Our teenage years—
wild, rebellious, boisterous,
unaware and careless,
learning to grow up,
the inexperienced.
Our elder years—
relieved, relaxed, accomplished,
mature and qualified,
passing on teachings,
the knowledgably.
Our teenage years—
wild, rebellious, boisterous,
unaware and careless,
learning to grow up,
the inexperienced.
dictionary poems
DICTIONARY POEM
While drinking claret
30 fathoms away I watched
This hunter renovate,
He made this trap Near that old brown bush
While drinking claret
30 fathoms away I watched
This hunter renovate,
He made this trap Near that old brown bush
ballad
BALLAD
The bus,
The way I get down the road,
The ticket to my future,
Where I eat and where I rode.
I eat some food,
And take a nap;
Lay down in the isle
Not worrying about the map.
We are all excited to get there
And to reach our destination.
It is all fine and dandy
Until the examination.
I got on and saw my bag,
It was in the isle
And not where I had put it
Those stupid people must have took it.
Their money their checks,
Their cameras, their phones,
Everything was gone,
And their voices cracked in a very light tone.
My books, my bags,
Were on the floor
They took it so easy
Just by walking through the door.
My homework was gone
My phone was safe;
I was happy
But now it’s late.
I am doing it again
Just like I did before,
If only
They hadn’t broken the door.
The bus,
The way I get down the road,
The ticket to my future,
Where I eat and where I rode.
I eat some food,
And take a nap;
Lay down in the isle
Not worrying about the map.
We are all excited to get there
And to reach our destination.
It is all fine and dandy
Until the examination.
I got on and saw my bag,
It was in the isle
And not where I had put it
Those stupid people must have took it.
Their money their checks,
Their cameras, their phones,
Everything was gone,
And their voices cracked in a very light tone.
My books, my bags,
Were on the floor
They took it so easy
Just by walking through the door.
My homework was gone
My phone was safe;
I was happy
But now it’s late.
I am doing it again
Just like I did before,
If only
They hadn’t broken the door.
one sentence poems
One-sentence poem
Turning the sky
Deep
Dark
Orange;
Only
Inches showing,
As the sun
Falls
On the
Horizon.
Turning the sky
Deep
Dark
Orange;
Only
Inches showing,
As the sun
Falls
On the
Horizon.
contrast poems
CONTRAST POEMS
With you –
Casual, unconcerned, joyful,
Content,
Relaxed and have fun,
Luckiest guy ever!
With you –
Casual, unconcerned, joyful,
Content,
Relaxed and have fun,
Luckiest guy ever!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Showers and Storms.
Showers and Storms
Late afternoon.Children running out from the school doors.Birds chirp and fly high up above.The sun beats down on the earth.A shivering breeze picks up.Wind chimes begin the clash together.The birds no longer soar, instead they hide in trees.Enormous clouds cover the sun.WHOOSHH! Out of nowhere the sky begins to cry.Water pours down uncontrollably.Children begin to scurry inside again.Umbrellas sprout up across the land.The end!The sun peeps around the fading fog.The flowers lift their heads.The smell of freshness sweeps the air.
Late afternoon.Children running out from the school doors.Birds chirp and fly high up above.The sun beats down on the earth.A shivering breeze picks up.Wind chimes begin the clash together.The birds no longer soar, instead they hide in trees.Enormous clouds cover the sun.WHOOSHH! Out of nowhere the sky begins to cry.Water pours down uncontrollably.Children begin to scurry inside again.Umbrellas sprout up across the land.The end!The sun peeps around the fading fog.The flowers lift their heads.The smell of freshness sweeps the air.
Morning After
Morning After
What a day yesterday was!
My back is killing me from those
unfit beds and chairs.
And those bowls, come on,
talk about being completely incorrect!
Oh well, I tried new things
and learned a lesson from it.
Next time I’ll stick to things my size.
What a day yesterday was!
My back is killing me from those
unfit beds and chairs.
And those bowls, come on,
talk about being completely incorrect!
Oh well, I tried new things
and learned a lesson from it.
Next time I’ll stick to things my size.
Sound Effects
Sound Effects
Chugging down the tracks,
Hurrying its way down the tunnel,
Only one goal to fulfill
Overcome the broke track.
Clang, clang, the rails clash and spark together,
Hastily rushing down the route,
Oddly enough, dodging the mishap,
Overthrowing the chance of agony.
Chugging down the tracks,
Hurrying its way down the tunnel,
Only one goal to fulfill
Overcome the broke track.
Clang, clang, the rails clash and spark together,
Hastily rushing down the route,
Oddly enough, dodging the mishap,
Overthrowing the chance of agony.
Animal Persons
Animal Persons
Dear midnight, when the moon comes out
and is its very highest in the sky,
the owl came out to perform.
With widened and piercing eyes,
he begins to sing his harmony.
Delivered with such perfection,
and no mistakes at all,
his tune sweeps across the land.
His screeching melody is heard everywhere,
near and far, here or there.
His beak closes, his neck turns,
he awaits the audience’s reaction.
The crickets chirp and the bats fly high,
and he starts again in encore.
Dear midnight, when the moon comes out
and is its very highest in the sky,
the owl came out to perform.
With widened and piercing eyes,
he begins to sing his harmony.
Delivered with such perfection,
and no mistakes at all,
his tune sweeps across the land.
His screeching melody is heard everywhere,
near and far, here or there.
His beak closes, his neck turns,
he awaits the audience’s reaction.
The crickets chirp and the bats fly high,
and he starts again in encore.
Object Poem
Object Poem
Appearing bumpy and slick,
your corn and your skin,
now dried up and dehydrated,
yet still looking wholesome,
surviving the weather and the land.
Beaded with thousands
of small corn parcels,
and scattered distantlythroughout the plains.
Lifelessly sitting on the desk,
lies the remembrance of a time,
back in the day,
when this was the common nourishment.
Appearing bumpy and slick,
your corn and your skin,
now dried up and dehydrated,
yet still looking wholesome,
surviving the weather and the land.
Beaded with thousands
of small corn parcels,
and scattered distantlythroughout the plains.
Lifelessly sitting on the desk,
lies the remembrance of a time,
back in the day,
when this was the common nourishment.
Showers and Storms
SHOWERS ANS STORMS
Early evening.
Rays of scorching heat beam off tops of cars.
Green grass shrivels and lies down.
People lazily bathe in the air conditioning.
Skies Blacken.
A soft whistle comes through the back door.
Lost Wal-Mart bags leap barb wire fences.
Cows gather together and head for shelter.
Splash!
Threatened baseball players sprint to the locker room.
Sheets of water down pour on the metal roofing.
Sunken wholes fill and run over flooding the grass.
It’s gone!
Naked cousins soak and splash in the brown muck.
A single beam of warmth shines through the black clouds.
Glistening the world comes alive again and happiness is restored.
Early evening.
Rays of scorching heat beam off tops of cars.
Green grass shrivels and lies down.
People lazily bathe in the air conditioning.
Skies Blacken.
A soft whistle comes through the back door.
Lost Wal-Mart bags leap barb wire fences.
Cows gather together and head for shelter.
Splash!
Threatened baseball players sprint to the locker room.
Sheets of water down pour on the metal roofing.
Sunken wholes fill and run over flooding the grass.
It’s gone!
Naked cousins soak and splash in the brown muck.
A single beam of warmth shines through the black clouds.
Glistening the world comes alive again and happiness is restored.
In touch with nature
IN TOUCH WITH NATURE
What made you so pretty?
Your flowers bright and yellow,
Your stems so shriveled,
Once full and alive
Now little and brittle,
You went through temperatures of cold and hot,
You were strong but now you are not?
The rough plains have made me,
Tough and sturdy.
I learned not to grow tall,
But short and stocky;
I grow down low on the hill
Rather than the top.
I have learned one thing from living out here,
Flying high in the wind
I was a seed looking for that spot,
I knew it had to be the right one
Because once I started growing I couldn’t stop
What made you so pretty?
Your flowers bright and yellow,
Your stems so shriveled,
Once full and alive
Now little and brittle,
You went through temperatures of cold and hot,
You were strong but now you are not?
The rough plains have made me,
Tough and sturdy.
I learned not to grow tall,
But short and stocky;
I grow down low on the hill
Rather than the top.
I have learned one thing from living out here,
Flying high in the wind
I was a seed looking for that spot,
I knew it had to be the right one
Because once I started growing I couldn’t stop
Letter poems
LETTER POEMS
Dear Great Grandma,
Your letter made my summerjoyful and exciting—
Memories of beautiful birds,
Reminded by their beautiful songs.
The sight of a Robin makes me think of you!
I love to hear your words,
Write me back soon!
Dear Great Grandma,
Your letter made my summerjoyful and exciting—
Memories of beautiful birds,
Reminded by their beautiful songs.
The sight of a Robin makes me think of you!
I love to hear your words,
Write me back soon!
Fairy tales revised
FAIRY TALES REVISITED
The day of the race,
Two men stepped onto the line.
Boom! The gun fired and they both took off.
I spoke to both of them before the race,
The first man was very confident and a little cocky,
The second man was just concentrated on winning the race.
The man in front was far ahead,
So he lay down to take a nap.
As his eyes cracked open
He noticed ha was about to lose the race,
Even with his great speed
No one could ever make up the ground he had lost.
As the slowest man finished the race
He turned around and told the other man
“Slow and steady always wins the race!”
The day of the race,
Two men stepped onto the line.
Boom! The gun fired and they both took off.
I spoke to both of them before the race,
The first man was very confident and a little cocky,
The second man was just concentrated on winning the race.
The man in front was far ahead,
So he lay down to take a nap.
As his eyes cracked open
He noticed ha was about to lose the race,
Even with his great speed
No one could ever make up the ground he had lost.
As the slowest man finished the race
He turned around and told the other man
“Slow and steady always wins the race!”
Monday, November 9, 2009
The words are rollin' in!
As of today, I have written 9,842 words on my weekly reflections for Mr. Finley. Just think! He has to read all of that. I am still working on my piece in the style of Walt Whitman, "Pacific Song," in which I am still trying to incorporate my photos. Formatting on this site is trickier than on Microsoft Word. Hope to have it up by the end of the day.
Happy writing this week!
Mrs. Markle
Happy writing this week!
Mrs. Markle
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Out of a Crowd...
He runs in,
Stops, and says something aloud to get the attention,
Hair is slicked sown with plenty of jell,
then plopped down, took a deep breath and looked around.
His hands never stop moving, he fiddles
With everything his hands come across,
Glancing, looking at the faces and not into the eyes of everyone,
Seeing if they are watching him,
Class goes the same every day!
Stops, and says something aloud to get the attention,
Hair is slicked sown with plenty of jell,
then plopped down, took a deep breath and looked around.
His hands never stop moving, he fiddles
With everything his hands come across,
Glancing, looking at the faces and not into the eyes of everyone,
Seeing if they are watching him,
Class goes the same every day!
Comparison Poems
Even better than an ice cold glass of lemonade,
Filled to the brim, sweat running down the sides it will keep you cool for a while,
Full of fresh sweetness,
Each swig you experience the softness,
Cool and smooth—
That’s you, grandma, always speaking charming positive words!
Filled to the brim, sweat running down the sides it will keep you cool for a while,
Full of fresh sweetness,
Each swig you experience the softness,
Cool and smooth—
That’s you, grandma, always speaking charming positive words!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
comparison poem
Comparison Poem
More desirable than the tender taste of angel food cake
topped with divine enjoyment and delicate pleasure
making every moment encountered worthwhile
Smothered with bliss and satisfaction
the experience is always memorable
delightful and pleasing—
That’s you Maria, my mother, and best friend.
More desirable than the tender taste of angel food cake
topped with divine enjoyment and delicate pleasure
making every moment encountered worthwhile
Smothered with bliss and satisfaction
the experience is always memorable
delightful and pleasing—
That’s you Maria, my mother, and best friend.
In the spirit of Whitman
I sing of the last time I went rafting;
of the big blue waves, clear but dark
crashing lightly on the tree trunk bark.
My friends and family sit beside me,
Only one more guy and he is right behind me.
I sing of riding waves that throw your guts;
Very high and very low,
The waves go everywhere until they mellow.
They move from the right and the left,
My stomach starts to get a little upset.
I sing of getting wet and drying off;
The wave hits the rock and splashes you,
It comes in the boat and get in your shoe.
Your hair, pants, shirt, and your face,
Everything is wet like you are running a race.
The man is pretty nice but very strict,
For he has to be my life is in his hands.
He shouts out calls that mean left and right,
Here comes the rock it is in close sight.
It is up to you to read the sign,
For it is you that is walking the line
of the big blue waves, clear but dark
crashing lightly on the tree trunk bark.
My friends and family sit beside me,
Only one more guy and he is right behind me.
I sing of riding waves that throw your guts;
Very high and very low,
The waves go everywhere until they mellow.
They move from the right and the left,
My stomach starts to get a little upset.
I sing of getting wet and drying off;
The wave hits the rock and splashes you,
It comes in the boat and get in your shoe.
Your hair, pants, shirt, and your face,
Everything is wet like you are running a race.
The man is pretty nice but very strict,
For he has to be my life is in his hands.
He shouts out calls that mean left and right,
Here comes the rock it is in close sight.
It is up to you to read the sign,
For it is you that is walking the line
Monday, November 2, 2009
series poem
A perfect day can be destroyed by the most frivolous things— Waking up late and conveniently having a bad hair day,
Running late to school on the day of a test in first hour,
Losing your pencil right before creative writing class,
Discovering the project you thought was due Thursday, is actually due Tuesday,
And most the time, once your day starts to go downhill, it keeps going downhill!
Running late to school on the day of a test in first hour,
Losing your pencil right before creative writing class,
Discovering the project you thought was due Thursday, is actually due Tuesday,
And most the time, once your day starts to go downhill, it keeps going downhill!
It was a dark and story night...K.N.
It was a dark and stormy night when the fate of a whole dynasty was about to be destroyed. Thunder overpowering the castle like a piercing freight train, vivid lightning bolts flashing every 20 seconds, just enough to light up the highest window on the tower every time it struck. FLASH! There she stood, the princess of the throne, staring out the window with her dejected eyes, and mislead heart. Her left hand was fisted, and placed over her chest. In her right hand, she clenched onto something, but her lifeless arm dangled next to her insensitive body. Tears seemed to slowly crawl their way down her colorless face. The sight lasted but nearly a moment, and then disappeared back into darkness. FLASH! There she stood again, but this time, her right hand was positioned under her chin, parallel to her deadened eyes. The reflection of the lightning glistened off the jagged blade that was steadily pressed against her throat. She had finally had enough.
More Life is ... but probably not in the fast lane!
Life is a magic show,
Illusions and surprises
from all angles.
Now you see it--
now you don't!
Smoke and mirrors
How much is really real?
I can't wait for the next trick!
Life is an amusement park
full of bright lights
and tantalizing smells.
Then the bottom drops out
as events rush toward the void.
Where will I be tomorrow?
On top of the Ferris wheel swinging madly
Or careening into the sinister tunnel of oblivion?
Life is a spelling bee
Sometimes you get the picture
Sometimes you don’t
You ask and ask to have it repeated
But still a cloud of confusion.
Hopefully the dictionary
Holds the meaning of tomorrow.
Life is a picnic basket
Packed with delectable delights
Spread on a cozy blanket
Beneath the deep shade of a sheltering oak,
And then the ants
Come marching one by one.
Illusions and surprises
from all angles.
Now you see it--
now you don't!
Smoke and mirrors
How much is really real?
I can't wait for the next trick!
Life is an amusement park
full of bright lights
and tantalizing smells.
Then the bottom drops out
as events rush toward the void.
Where will I be tomorrow?
On top of the Ferris wheel swinging madly
Or careening into the sinister tunnel of oblivion?
Life is a spelling bee
Sometimes you get the picture
Sometimes you don’t
You ask and ask to have it repeated
But still a cloud of confusion.
Hopefully the dictionary
Holds the meaning of tomorrow.
Life is a picnic basket
Packed with delectable delights
Spread on a cozy blanket
Beneath the deep shade of a sheltering oak,
And then the ants
Come marching one by one.
Time Travel Poems
I used to be a nerd,
Doing all my homework and never missing a minute of class.
Now that I an older,
I do my work but have learned to have fun while doing it!
Before I knew her,
I thougth she was just another high school girl.
But now that I know her,
I could never do it without her!
Doing all my homework and never missing a minute of class.
Now that I an older,
I do my work but have learned to have fun while doing it!
Before I knew her,
I thougth she was just another high school girl.
But now that I know her,
I could never do it without her!
"It was a dark and stormy night..."
“It was a dark and stormy night; the girl stumbled and slipped along the wet walls of the dark ally, searching for the next dumpster to rest on. The fog grew thick like white walls were being put up on all sides of her, hearing the splash of her left leg stepping into the black water puddle and the helpless slide of her right foot dragging slowly behind her. Drunk and incompatible her father (a drunken crack dealer in the back roads of New York City) bat his daughter daily. Searching for the closest item his dirt brown hands came upon the hammer. Finally she fell, not to get back up again flat dented sings of heavy blows to the face appeared everywhere.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Life Metaphors
LIFE METAPHORS 1
Life is a picnic basket,
Full of a variety of goods;
Some good, some bad,
Some favorite, and some not.
You can choose to open the lid
To the good stuff or never look inside.
You can open the door to new and better
Or keep it closed to stay the same.
You can choose your favorite
Or take what is given to you
And not take a risk for the better.
LIFE METAPHORS 2
Life is a spelling bee,
Seems like you are always in quiz.
Everything you do is a test,
Can you win and move on
Or lose and fall behind.
Spell it right or spell it wrong,
Make the right choice
Or make the wrong one.
It’s a test; do you want to get a 100%?
LIFE MATAPHORS 3
Life is a baby bird.
Mom and dad are always there,
To get you food and protect you from others.
You grow and grow until that day comes,
The day you learn to fly!
Elementary, middle school, and high school pass,
Now you take a step by yourself.
The key is to not look down,
Open your wings and take a jump.
The time to fly is now,
Are you going to take the jump?
Life is a picnic basket,
Full of a variety of goods;
Some good, some bad,
Some favorite, and some not.
You can choose to open the lid
To the good stuff or never look inside.
You can open the door to new and better
Or keep it closed to stay the same.
You can choose your favorite
Or take what is given to you
And not take a risk for the better.
LIFE METAPHORS 2
Life is a spelling bee,
Seems like you are always in quiz.
Everything you do is a test,
Can you win and move on
Or lose and fall behind.
Spell it right or spell it wrong,
Make the right choice
Or make the wrong one.
It’s a test; do you want to get a 100%?
LIFE MATAPHORS 3
Life is a baby bird.
Mom and dad are always there,
To get you food and protect you from others.
You grow and grow until that day comes,
The day you learn to fly!
Elementary, middle school, and high school pass,
Now you take a step by yourself.
The key is to not look down,
Open your wings and take a jump.
The time to fly is now,
Are you going to take the jump?
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Reflections
Since a woman reserves the right to change her mind, that is exactly what I am doing! My story has bogged down so I'm going two new directions with my writing. I reviewed the weekly reflections on lesson plans and instruction that Mr. Finley has requested, and discovered that I have written 7, 246 words since school started! Way to go, me! In addition to that weekly required writing, I plan to actually start work on my much-vaunted family cookbook/memoir. Thanks to Betsy's recipe blog, I should be well on my way. In addition to new and old family favorite recipes, I will include interesting, humorous and otherwise valuable family anecdotes. And you thought your family was weird! Just kidding family! If I again become mired in _______, (where's that thesaurus when you need it?) I plan to polish some of the mirthful________ that I have begun and then laid aside. Feel free to share your thoughtful reflections and/or opinions.
Yours in writing,
Mrs. (probably never will be famous, but may be notorious for "throwing" students " to the wolves") Markle
Yours in writing,
Mrs. (probably never will be famous, but may be notorious for "throwing" students " to the wolves") Markle
Help!
I am stuck with my "Sally Jacobson's" story. I don't know where to go with it. If you have any ideas, please add on and give me a new direction to take it, or feel free to comment. Thanks! :)
Sally Jacobson
Sally Jacobson is 18 years old. She is the daughter of a huge corporate, business man, and she gets everything she wants. No question about it. She is a full-out, California-valley girl. Born and raised in the outskirts of Hollywood, she grew up around the “fab” life. Always wearing miniskirts, shawls, and sunglasses, she prances around like she owns the whole city. But then again, her father pretty much does. While people sit out on the streets, homeless, poor, and begging for money, she spends at least $200 a day on her Chihuahua; wardrobe only. She is on a strict “chicken salad only” diet, and cares more about her figure than anything else in the world. One time, I saw a waitress put broccoli in her salad, (which happens to be madam’s least favorite food.) Let’s just say that poor waitress is no long employed. How do I know all of this you ask? Well, unfortunately, I am Miss Sally’s assistant. An 18 year old having an assistant?! I know, I know, it sounds crazy. But to be honest, it’s not as bad as it seems. I only have three duties to fulfill. One, I have to make her look good; no matter what! If someone complains about something she is wearing, I defend her. If something she does is wrong, I make it look as if it was right. Two, I set up all her dates, events, and schedule completely. Lastly, it’s my responsibility to get her a double-mint-pinched triple chocolate mocha latté every morning at 9 o’clock on the dot. See, pretty simple.
I am only 17 myself, so I can pretty much relate to everything Sally is going through. Plus, the job has its perks. I get into all the popular parties, I’m always in the right spot at the right time for the craziest of all drama to go down, and I get to meet some very interesting people. Everything has always gone pretty well for me and this job. I have never messed up bad enough to be yelled at, and even though I don’t get much attention from her, Sally still depends on me for a lot of things, whether she’ll admit it or not. Up until today, I thought I was doing pretty well. Before I get into detail, I must add, today was the day that the biggest sale in Hollywood was released. Chanel bags, originally anywhere from $600-$1200 were now only $200 a bag. To Sally, this was better than a cure for cancer. She had been talking about this day for months, and she made it clear that she was depending on me to arrange how she would get to 367 Laceyville Avenue, and she expected to be first in line. This morning, I thought I had everything set up. The limo driver was informed to be there three hours early. And every important person who worked at the Chanel store had talked to Sally’s father, and was aware that Miss Sally Jacobson was expected to be first in line; if only things had gone as planned.
The limo driver was 20 minutes late, which was practically just as bad as being 4 hours late to Sally. She was infuriated. She even told me that if she wasn’t already so late, she would have called for a different driver. I took the blame, only because I thought Sally would be impressed at the fact that I took responsibility. But she wasn’t. She was only pleased because she now knew who was at fault, and she needed someone to blame. The whole drive downtown was a disaster. Traffic was a nightmare. There was an accident and roadblocks. Nothing was going the way it was planned. At the rate we were going, I didn’t expect to be first in line, and I knew that all Satan was going to be let loose if that didn’t happen. But I held my breath, and hoped for the best. When we arrived, we were still first in line. I thanked my lucky stars. We waited and waited and waited, and when it got a little chilly, I offered Sally my jacket; but I was rejected. I could tell she was still upset at the limo incident. The line behind us grew and grew; stretching around four blocks. Right when we THOUTGHT the manager came to open the door, she looked at Sally and said “Excuse me, I understand that you have had your father make arrangements to be first into the store, but someone of more importance has just unexpectedly arrived, and she will be the first into this sale.” The look on Sally’s face was UNFORGETABLE. I thought World War III was about to begin. I tried to mutter words to keep her calm. “Uh, uh, I, I, but…” but nothing would come out. I had nothing to say, nothing to do to help. Sally’s father was not going to be happy about this. But unexpectedly, Sally slowly composed herself, clinched her fists, and took a step back. We were all waiting to see who this oh-so-important person would be. Who on earth would have the nerve to take Sally Jacobson’s spot in line, and take the risk of having to deal with her father. We were all standing there in embarrassment. A few moments later, Paris Hilton, THE Paris Hilton, trotted right in front of us. All of our jaws dropped. A few seconds later, Sally managed to spit out the words “That’s, that’s, that’s, p-p-p-p-Paris Hilton?!” I was in awe. I tried to stay composed and act like nothing epic was happening, but who was I kidding? Hollywood’s biggest drama queen, and the only person Sally Jacobson had ever thought was better than her, was standing two feet away from me.
I am only 17 myself, so I can pretty much relate to everything Sally is going through. Plus, the job has its perks. I get into all the popular parties, I’m always in the right spot at the right time for the craziest of all drama to go down, and I get to meet some very interesting people. Everything has always gone pretty well for me and this job. I have never messed up bad enough to be yelled at, and even though I don’t get much attention from her, Sally still depends on me for a lot of things, whether she’ll admit it or not. Up until today, I thought I was doing pretty well. Before I get into detail, I must add, today was the day that the biggest sale in Hollywood was released. Chanel bags, originally anywhere from $600-$1200 were now only $200 a bag. To Sally, this was better than a cure for cancer. She had been talking about this day for months, and she made it clear that she was depending on me to arrange how she would get to 367 Laceyville Avenue, and she expected to be first in line. This morning, I thought I had everything set up. The limo driver was informed to be there three hours early. And every important person who worked at the Chanel store had talked to Sally’s father, and was aware that Miss Sally Jacobson was expected to be first in line; if only things had gone as planned.
The limo driver was 20 minutes late, which was practically just as bad as being 4 hours late to Sally. She was infuriated. She even told me that if she wasn’t already so late, she would have called for a different driver. I took the blame, only because I thought Sally would be impressed at the fact that I took responsibility. But she wasn’t. She was only pleased because she now knew who was at fault, and she needed someone to blame. The whole drive downtown was a disaster. Traffic was a nightmare. There was an accident and roadblocks. Nothing was going the way it was planned. At the rate we were going, I didn’t expect to be first in line, and I knew that all Satan was going to be let loose if that didn’t happen. But I held my breath, and hoped for the best. When we arrived, we were still first in line. I thanked my lucky stars. We waited and waited and waited, and when it got a little chilly, I offered Sally my jacket; but I was rejected. I could tell she was still upset at the limo incident. The line behind us grew and grew; stretching around four blocks. Right when we THOUTGHT the manager came to open the door, she looked at Sally and said “Excuse me, I understand that you have had your father make arrangements to be first into the store, but someone of more importance has just unexpectedly arrived, and she will be the first into this sale.” The look on Sally’s face was UNFORGETABLE. I thought World War III was about to begin. I tried to mutter words to keep her calm. “Uh, uh, I, I, but…” but nothing would come out. I had nothing to say, nothing to do to help. Sally’s father was not going to be happy about this. But unexpectedly, Sally slowly composed herself, clinched her fists, and took a step back. We were all waiting to see who this oh-so-important person would be. Who on earth would have the nerve to take Sally Jacobson’s spot in line, and take the risk of having to deal with her father. We were all standing there in embarrassment. A few moments later, Paris Hilton, THE Paris Hilton, trotted right in front of us. All of our jaws dropped. A few seconds later, Sally managed to spit out the words “That’s, that’s, that’s, p-p-p-p-Paris Hilton?!” I was in awe. I tried to stay composed and act like nothing epic was happening, but who was I kidding? Hollywood’s biggest drama queen, and the only person Sally Jacobson had ever thought was better than her, was standing two feet away from me.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Don't Get Me Started
Who'd a thunk it? Everyone has their "hot" button, something that really gets them going, but what is the possibility of such a diverse group having the same pet peeve? Maybe one in a million, but the same ____ (number) people in the same location at the same time?George had traveled the world due to his occupation as a mining engineer, from the backwoods Appalachian community of Richlands, VA, to the vast, isolated outback of Western Australia, to the copper mines of __________. He considered himself to be a pretty mellow fellow, someone who took things in stride, especially the personality quirks of his fellow engineers. After all, people who burrow under the earth's surface to meet the needs of the world's citizens for everything from energy to beauty products, often have a slightly different perspective on life. How many people do you know who get excited about a six-foot seam of coal or recycling asphalt?Granted that George presented rather an imposing figure when one first made his acquaintance, he considered himself rather an ordinary guy. His occupation allowed him to lounge comfortably on the job in faded blue jeans and somewhat tattered t-shirts most of the time. Rarely did he dress up, except when required to, for the occasional summons to meet with the "suits" of management. Although he would have loved to indulge his one idiosyncrasy in attire, sporting a dapper Tyrolean hat with a jaunty feather, he restrained himself with supervisors.He was lounging around in his normal, casual work clothing when the phone rang. It was almost 5:30 p.m., his usual time for wrapping up the day and leaving the office. Most days he headed to the gym for some sort of physical activity to offset the kinks and stresses of the work day. Was that insistent, blaring phone his boss checking up on him or just some idiot who had dialed the wrong extension? He picked up the phone to the sound of soft, female Southern drawl. "Hi, y'all, is this the Capraro's? I have a gentleman here who'd like to speak to y'all." A million questions raced through his startled brain. Who were these people and how did they get his private extension? They were probably the same kinds of people who sent innumerable joke e-mails based on the oh-so-false assumption that the receiver would enjoy them as much as the misguided sender. Was this idiotic blond (with a voice like that she had to be blond!) never going to get to the point and disclose the reason for the untimely call? Even if he decided against going to the gym for a much needed workout, there was always some sporting event beckoning on the big screen TV in the corner of his sparsely furnished living room. He paused to reflect on his “minimalist” decorating style. How essential was it to have a bunch of pictures and “trinkets” cluttering up the clean, bare wall space? But back to the demanding telephone clutched in his hand.When the male voice that came suddenly on the line blared like a foghorn, "Capraro?" it came to him like a punch to the solar plexus just who it was. Just like the way he dressed in his memory and the image he had in his mind, the voice was one of a kind; if you heard it once it would not allow you to disregard it. The soft Southern accent blended with the raspy, drawn-out rumble automatically reminded you of a cantankerous old grizzly bear grumbling as he ranged the sparse berry patch late in fall, but it was also a pleasant reminder of past ___________. To hear a familiar sound and know who it is and catch up with an old friend is very nice ____________. George hadn't called or spoken to him in a long time and was delighted to restore old connections.
The Best Practice
Stretching, ply’s, jumping, throwing, and running are the things I do before the fun part starts. Hitting circuits start and I was in the bigger group, everybody was a good twenty five pounds more than me but I was ready. In all three stations I was against Taylor so I had my work cut out for me. He would plant and cut so fast if you were running full speed you still never had time to get in front of him. But I managed to pull it off and in doing so I got a "Good job" from coach Hannagin. In our practices if he tells you good job you earned it because he almost never speaks and when he does it is completely serious. So already my practice had started off good and it just got better as the day went on. Kickoff was the next thing we were working on and I actually get to play on that so I was pretty excited! I am the outside guy and I have a pretty large expectation, my job is to Never let anybody outside of me and to push the ball carrier into the middle of the field where everyone else is. In some cases when the runner goes inside I am the last resort in making the tackle. I sprint down the field and slow up as the runner approaches just so I won’t let him get past me. Now to the easiest part of practice, individual defensive skills. I am a corner/safety and it is always pretty easy when this part of practice comes. We go off to one side of the field and do zone or man coverage drills. In other words we do back peddling and planting to sprint drills. Even though it is pretty easy I think it is one of the best drills we do. Since all of the older kids are already good at it if I try really hard I kind of stick out. And to stick out for the coaches is a really good thing, especially if one other player is sick or out I have a chance to take their spot or prove to the coach that I am ready to step in whenever he needs me too.
Finally the best and most fun part of the day was here. I ran over to the hydrant and grabbed a quick swig of water, my mouth was as dry as a desert and to feel that cool water rush down my throat was a great feeling. I jogged back over to the coaches and took a knee. Coach Clark was explaining what we were going to be working on when we all stood up and broke the huddle. I was on defense With Kopen my best bud on defense and we were both ready to smash some varsity heads. The defense was called, 34 straight up cover three, and I was the backer with Kopen. I looked at Coach Graham and he showed the loop blitz. But when I turned around the offence was already at the line so the only thing I could was call it out. I looked up and yelled Loopde- loop to everyone so they would know what the play was. Kopen said he would go first which meant I would go second. As soon as the ball was hike me and kopen crossed and exploded through the line like there was no tomorrow.
Finally the best and most fun part of the day was here. I ran over to the hydrant and grabbed a quick swig of water, my mouth was as dry as a desert and to feel that cool water rush down my throat was a great feeling. I jogged back over to the coaches and took a knee. Coach Clark was explaining what we were going to be working on when we all stood up and broke the huddle. I was on defense With Kopen my best bud on defense and we were both ready to smash some varsity heads. The defense was called, 34 straight up cover three, and I was the backer with Kopen. I looked at Coach Graham and he showed the loop blitz. But when I turned around the offence was already at the line so the only thing I could was call it out. I looked up and yelled Loopde- loop to everyone so they would know what the play was. Kopen said he would go first which meant I would go second. As soon as the ball was hike me and kopen crossed and exploded through the line like there was no tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
$25 haiku
The $25 Haiku Dr. Jonathan Harte with Rocky Mountain Infectious Diesease Specialists in Parker is the winner of The Denver Post’s $25 Haiku contest. He had this professional take on the topic of “flu”:
Fever headache cough
Spread quickly. Easy to stop
Wash hands, vaccinate!
Read more haiku at denverpost.com/haiku . You also can go to denverpost.com/lifestyles to have The Haiku Guy, our avatar of verse, read aloud. If you’ve got something to say in a 5-7-5 poetry form, enter a one-stanza haiku at lifestyle@denverpost.com or file it at denverpost.com/haiku . Don’t forget to include your name and hometown. Our favorite wins a $25 gift certificate to the Tattered Cover Book Store. For a limited time, winners also get a copy of “Haiku on 42nd St.: A Celebration of Urban Poetry and Art” from Clerisy Press.
This week’s topic, with the Colorado Rockies in the National League playoffs, is: home. The deadline is midnight Sunday.
Fever headache cough
Spread quickly. Easy to stop
Wash hands, vaccinate!
Read more haiku at denverpost.com/haiku . You also can go to denverpost.com/lifestyles to have The Haiku Guy, our avatar of verse, read aloud. If you’ve got something to say in a 5-7-5 poetry form, enter a one-stanza haiku at lifestyle@denverpost.com or file it at denverpost.com/haiku . Don’t forget to include your name and hometown. Our favorite wins a $25 gift certificate to the Tattered Cover Book Store. For a limited time, winners also get a copy of “Haiku on 42nd St.: A Celebration of Urban Poetry and Art” from Clerisy Press.
This week’s topic, with the Colorado Rockies in the National League playoffs, is: home. The deadline is midnight Sunday.
Round-robin 1-Dont' Get Me Started
Who'd a thunk it? Everyone has their "hot" button, something that really gets them going, but what is the possibility of such a diverse group having the same pet peeve? Maybe one in a million, but the same ____ (number) people in the same location at the same time?
George had traveled the world due to his occupation as a mining engineer, from the backwoods Appalachian community of Richlands, VA, to the vast, isolated outback of western Australia, to the copper mines of __________. He considered himself to be a pretty mellow fellow, someone who took things in stride, especially the personality quirks of his fellow engineers. After all, people who burrow under the earth's surface to meet the needs of the world's citizens for everything from energy to beauty products, often have a slightly different perspective on life. How many people do you know who get excited about a six-foot seam of coal or recycling asphalt?
Granted that George presented rather an imposing figure when one first made his acquaintance, he considered himself rather an ordinary guy. His occupation allowed him to lounge comfortably on the job in faded blue jeans and somewhat tattered t-shirts most of the time. Rarely did he dress up, except when required to, for the occasional summons to meet with the "suits" of management. Although he would have loved to indulge his one idiosyncrasy in attire, sporting a dapper Tyrolean hat with a jaunty feather, he restrained himself with supervisors.
He was lounging around in his normal, casual work clothing when the phone rang. It was almost 5:30 p.m., his usual time for wrapping up the day and leaving the office. Most days he headed to the gym for some sort of physical activity to offset the kinks and stresses of the work day. Was that insistent, blaring phone his boss checking up on him or just some idiot who had dialed the wrong extension? He picked up the phone to the sound of soft, female Southern drawl. "Hi, y'all, is this the Capraro's? I have a gentleman here who'd like to speak to y'all." A million questions raced through his startled brain. Who were these people and how did they get his private extension? They were probably the same kinds of people who sent innumerable joke e-mails based on the oh-so-false assumption that the receiver would enjoy them as much as the misguided sender. Was this idiotic blond (with a voice like that she had to be blond!) never going to get to the point and disclose the reason for theuntimely call? Even if he decided against going to the gym for a much needed workout, there was always some sporting event beckoning on the big screen TV in the corner of his sparsely furnished living room. He paused to reflect on his “minimalist” decorating style. How essential was it to have a bunch of pictures and “trinkets” cluttering up the clean, bare wall space?
When the male voice that came suddenly on the line blared like a foghorn, "Capraro's?" it came to him like a punch to the solar plexus just who it was. Just like the way he dressed and the picture of him he had in his mind, the voice was one of a kind; if you heard it once you would never forget it. The soft Southern accent blended with the raspy, drawn-out rumble automatically reminded you of a grumbly old ______ but it was a good reminder. To hear a familiar sound and know who it is and catch up with an old friend is very nice ____________. George hadn't called or spoken to him in a long time and was delighted to refresh old connections, but what about the female voice that first disturbed his ________. Last he knew, __________ was a lone wolf. He "played well with others" when he had to, but preferred to fly solo on most operations because he perceived what needed to be done ten minutes in advance while his colleagues were still trying to identify the problem. ________ was larger than life, not only in his profession, but also in his sartorial flair.
George had traveled the world due to his occupation as a mining engineer, from the backwoods Appalachian community of Richlands, VA, to the vast, isolated outback of western Australia, to the copper mines of __________. He considered himself to be a pretty mellow fellow, someone who took things in stride, especially the personality quirks of his fellow engineers. After all, people who burrow under the earth's surface to meet the needs of the world's citizens for everything from energy to beauty products, often have a slightly different perspective on life. How many people do you know who get excited about a six-foot seam of coal or recycling asphalt?
Granted that George presented rather an imposing figure when one first made his acquaintance, he considered himself rather an ordinary guy. His occupation allowed him to lounge comfortably on the job in faded blue jeans and somewhat tattered t-shirts most of the time. Rarely did he dress up, except when required to, for the occasional summons to meet with the "suits" of management. Although he would have loved to indulge his one idiosyncrasy in attire, sporting a dapper Tyrolean hat with a jaunty feather, he restrained himself with supervisors.
He was lounging around in his normal, casual work clothing when the phone rang. It was almost 5:30 p.m., his usual time for wrapping up the day and leaving the office. Most days he headed to the gym for some sort of physical activity to offset the kinks and stresses of the work day. Was that insistent, blaring phone his boss checking up on him or just some idiot who had dialed the wrong extension? He picked up the phone to the sound of soft, female Southern drawl. "Hi, y'all, is this the Capraro's? I have a gentleman here who'd like to speak to y'all." A million questions raced through his startled brain. Who were these people and how did they get his private extension? They were probably the same kinds of people who sent innumerable joke e-mails based on the oh-so-false assumption that the receiver would enjoy them as much as the misguided sender. Was this idiotic blond (with a voice like that she had to be blond!) never going to get to the point and disclose the reason for theuntimely call? Even if he decided against going to the gym for a much needed workout, there was always some sporting event beckoning on the big screen TV in the corner of his sparsely furnished living room. He paused to reflect on his “minimalist” decorating style. How essential was it to have a bunch of pictures and “trinkets” cluttering up the clean, bare wall space?
When the male voice that came suddenly on the line blared like a foghorn, "Capraro's?" it came to him like a punch to the solar plexus just who it was. Just like the way he dressed and the picture of him he had in his mind, the voice was one of a kind; if you heard it once you would never forget it. The soft Southern accent blended with the raspy, drawn-out rumble automatically reminded you of a grumbly old ______ but it was a good reminder. To hear a familiar sound and know who it is and catch up with an old friend is very nice ____________. George hadn't called or spoken to him in a long time and was delighted to refresh old connections, but what about the female voice that first disturbed his ________. Last he knew, __________ was a lone wolf. He "played well with others" when he had to, but preferred to fly solo on most operations because he perceived what needed to be done ten minutes in advance while his colleagues were still trying to identify the problem. ________ was larger than life, not only in his profession, but also in his sartorial flair.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Round-robin writing
Round-robin writing
Greetings all you creative writers (even if you don't think you are)!We are taking on Mrs. V's challenge to write 100+ words per day during the month of "Rocktober," as well as submitting some of our best work for the local podcast for the National Day of Writing, Oct. 20.Our round-robin writing project will work something like this:Write as much as you can in 15-20 mins. at a time (100 words is approximately a little over a half page). Post your writing here for the next author to continue with it. If you are the next author, read what's already been written, then add to the story. You want each page to make some sort of sense, but it's an exercise in creativity. Let your writing take you and go with the flow. If you have a great idea for the direction the story should take, go with it! Some possibilities to consider are:
· things you like
· places to travel
· "thoughts of a sundrenched elsewhere"
· highs and lows
· young (or old) fools
· What ticks you off?
As you can see, the possibilities are endless. Please save your work in a Word document as well as posting here. I can't wait to see where our words take us. Happy writing! Just so you know, I just penned 227 words!
Greetings all you creative writers (even if you don't think you are)!We are taking on Mrs. V's challenge to write 100+ words per day during the month of "Rocktober," as well as submitting some of our best work for the local podcast for the National Day of Writing, Oct. 20.Our round-robin writing project will work something like this:Write as much as you can in 15-20 mins. at a time (100 words is approximately a little over a half page). Post your writing here for the next author to continue with it. If you are the next author, read what's already been written, then add to the story. You want each page to make some sort of sense, but it's an exercise in creativity. Let your writing take you and go with the flow. If you have a great idea for the direction the story should take, go with it! Some possibilities to consider are:
· things you like
· places to travel
· "thoughts of a sundrenched elsewhere"
· highs and lows
· young (or old) fools
· What ticks you off?
As you can see, the possibilities are endless. Please save your work in a Word document as well as posting here. I can't wait to see where our words take us. Happy writing! Just so you know, I just penned 227 words!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
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