Sunday, December 26, 2010

Author's Note: This poem was inspired by the painting, “Crying Girl” (1964) by Roy Lichtenstein.  This painting is so depressing and that's kind of why I like it.  I don't really know why this painting inspired me but it did and I thought that this poem described it perfectly, to me at least.  Enjoy! 





Why are you crying?
Standing with the City beneath your feet
Under these thousands of lights
Tell me again, why are you crying?


You have style - charm
And beauty
But no heart
No passion at all


You are an empty shell
Left behind on the sand
Deteriorating - fading away
In a crowd - barely missed


You are alone
Completely and utterly - alone
The City is big and yet
You have no one


These city lights are blinding
Lost forever and never
Coming back
That's why you're crying.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Stalking, Seeing, Experiencing

Author's Note: This poem includes some of the things I've learned from the novel, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, and it shows some philosophy that was in the book. I didn't get very far in the book but it's a very difficult read and requires a lot of time. Even though I didn't finish the book there was still a lot to learn from it. It taught that seeing the world in the most raw forms possible is a good way to live and that by simply paying attention can tell us so much about the world that we might of overlooked. This really is a beautiful book and even though it wasn't the most exciting, it was still wonderfully written and very inspiring to read. Also I wanted to experiment with the form of the poem and how people read it. Comment and tel me what you think. I hope you enjoy this poem!


I'm the water.
I'm the earth.
I'm the sun.
I'm the world.
I am the animals, humans and plants.

I'm a free soul.
Left here to explore.
To see.
Because seeing is all we need.
But
No
One
Ever
Sees.

I watch
and I stalk
Along the banks of the rivers
and the fields of wildflowers
Nothing can stop me from
Stalking, seeing, experiencing

I look at the mountain
Then the hills in front of that
Then the rows and rows of trees before that
Then I focus on the things right in front of me
Seeing everything,
Experiencing
Everything

Innocence
The white mist over --
Reality
Separating learning from
Experiencing

The sun is setting now
The light fading from the air
Night - dark - so full of fear
Fear that grows
Along
With
The
N i g h t

Why are we scared of the dark?
The unknown -- scares us
Because at night we cannot see
Fear clouds out beauty
Surprises at every corner

We are so lost in this world
To even start to understand it
We have to ask --
The right questions first
By simply
O p e n i n g
Our
Eyes

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Secret Waiting To Be Spoken

Author's note: This is a scene from my book, Just Listen by Sarah Dessen, I rewrote it so some things are a little different. I wrote this fiction piece in the point of view of Annabel Greene, who starts the year with no friends but has a secret that no one knows about until a boy named Owen Armstrong helps her tell the truth about what happened that night with Will Cash. Her ex-bestfriend, Sophia, is against her because she thinks that her boyfriend, Will, cheated on her with Annabel. I just finished this book and I think it teaches a good lesson. That sometimes, it's better to tell the truth no matter whether you're scared or whether it will hurt someone because if you don't, the lies could make everything worse.

I walk among the crowded courtyard, shoulders bumping shoulders, the hectic pace of the first day of school. The sun beating down on all of us making the air thick and damp. I try to free myself and finally make it too the parking lot, looking for Whitney's red Buick since she was supposed to pick me up today. Oh, wait, I forgot my English, I turn and make my way through the crowd. I thought about the things that have happened this summer as I walked back, with Sophia and with my family, it's been impossible to keep up and sometimes all I want to do is give up.

I have to stop thinking about these things and I push the negative thoughts from my mind. I try to relax as I move back toward the courtyard but then I see him, Will Cash. It seems like forever since I've seen him and I was definitely enjoying the distance. In my mind I start to panic, feeling that familiar pressure on my chest, and getting a weird urge to puke. He spots me and smiles, waving me over. I barely can feel my legs but I find myself in front of his window.

"Hey, long time no see," he says, the smile gone from his face, back to the intense stare that I've dreaded for the past months.

"Well, I've been busy, you know," I mumble and start to turn away. Hoping he doesn't stop me, he does.

"I haven't seen you at any of the parties lately," he says, staring at me.

"Well, I've been busy, see you, I guess," I turn away and walk away as fast as I can, I can feel the vomit rising in my throat. I need to get out of here.

I keep my eyes on the pavement until I reach the courtyard and then all I see is Sophia, staring at me, I can feel the anger even from here. I try to turn the other way to avoid her but she marches up to me.

"What do you think you're doing?" she sneers, grabbing my shoulder to make me look at her, "I told you to stay away from my boyfriend!" Everyone looks at us, the entire crowd of students silent. I can feel the eyes on me and I know what they all label me as but I don't care, they don't know what happened.

I don't answer and suddenly I turn towards her, my hands grabbing her shoulders and shoving her away. All I wanted was for her to go away and just leave me alone. I hear her screaming as I walk away, toward the main building, I can feel it rising in my throat, burning. I begin to jog a little but it's too late and before I even know it I am on my hands and knees, puking in the grass. I feels weird to be like this, so out of control and weak. I can feel myself shaking, shaking so hard I can't get up. I sit there in the grass for minutes as I hear the crowd beginning to clear, as they leave to go home. The last thing I want to do is go home. The last thing I want to do is go home and lie when my parents get home and ask about my day. Fine, I'll say even though I sat by myself at lunch again, being ignored by everyone and was whispered at as I walked the halls, head down. That terrible, gut-wrenching feeling comes over me and I can feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes, my breath stopping short.

Then I see the hand, reaching down towards me and I jump because I hadn't seen it coming. I look up and I see Owen Armstrong looking down at me, his dark eyes just staring at me as I take his hand, pulling me up. He leads me a few yards away then drops my hand and reaches into his bag, pulling out a tissue and handing it to me. I wipe my face with it and ball it up in my hand. This feels weird, standing next to the kid that sat only a few yards away from me at lunch, listening to music. He is so quiet and huge, he towers over me which is kind of frightening, actually. He sort of looms over me for a minute before standing up and walking a few feet away.

"Tha-," I start to say, getting up and stepping towards him but my phone starts ringing. It's my mom.
"Hey, what's up?" I say, glancing at Owen, who is staring at me.

"I'm sorry, Anna, but Whitney can't come pick you up, she saw a sale at the mall and missed the movie so she's staying for the late showing," she quickly explains, "I could come pick you up but-" I could hear in my moms voice that she was busy.

"It's no problem, Mom, I can get a ride," I try to sound cheerful as I sit back down in the grass, plucking up some grass in between my fingers.

"Okay, thanks, Annabel, I love you and I got to go," she says.

"Bye, Mom, love you too," I hang up and slide my phone into my pocket. I look up at Owen, who is still standing there, earphones in his ears. Music is a constant for Owen, it's what he's known for. I get up and walk over to him.

"Thanks, again," I say, pulling my bag over my shoulder. I smile at him and he smiles back, which kind of surprised me. Owen armstrong does not seem like a happy type of person.

"No problem," he shrugs then says, "so how about that ride home?" he smiles again.

"Sure," I say and I follow him toward the parking lot, thinking that I'm about to get into the car with some complete stranger but for some reason I feel more safe than I had in months. I can hear the shocked whispers of the few remaining students as we walk back through the main courtyard but I didn't care want they thought and maybe, as I look back at this moment, I did sort of know that Owen would do more than change my life, he would become the most important part of it.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Give Up

Author's Note: I guess I wrote this because I was in a bad mood and was for some reason thinking about people who just give up. I chose to write this poem as a big metaphor so I hope it's a good one. I see failure as a type of war, a war that you fight in your mind. You have to fight to keep going, to keep being successful otherwise your own mind will take you down. I think failure is a necessary thing in life but you can't let it get to you. Well, anyway, I hope you like this and please comment and tell me what you think.


Look around
at this place
you look at the
potholes and broken glass

You see
you remember
the sun and joy
that soaked this place

It is no longer here
the place you once knew
is disappearing
almost gone

There is no fighting anymore
just defeat and terror
fill this empty crater
that was once home

There is no hope
there is no love
there is no happiness
like there used to

This place you once knew
is different
it is like that place
drop off the earth-replaced

You begin to cry
you miss it
your home
your family

You lay there
alone and scared
a little child
among the rumble

You become part of it
this place you hate most
you let it take you
you gave up

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Author's Note: This is a response to my favorite book, The Kite Runner, this is one of my favorite scenes but I wrote it different. I wrote it from the point of view of a bystander not the boys friend. Enjoy!

A lone kite flies in the baby blue sky
like a lone bird soaring overhead
a child watches, waiting
waiting for it to cut loose

The blue kite is almost lost
in the blue surrounding it
the wind whipping it this way and that
another kite takes action

A string cut loose
the blue kite flies with the wind
the young boy runs
running for the kite

The boys friend follows moments later
only to find that his friend
his brother, his servant
is no longer the same
the kite runner

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Author's Note: This is long, I know but it is a kind of free-writing response to the book, Blue is for Nightmares, I thought the whole concept of being able to see the future through dreams was cool so I made this irony piece. I'm not saying I believe in Wicca, which is what the main character did to see the future, because I don't but I thought it was cool and different. Well, tell me what you think about this. Enjoy!

The dark hallway that lay stretched before me, mysterious and dangerous. I cautiously step down it, my footsteps echoing off the chipped, salmon pink cement walls. That whole length of it is in almost constant shadow except for pinpricks of lightbulbs swinging from the ceiling. The eery quiet that spreads throughout the hall makes me edgy and my ears are on full alert, ready for anything. I stay on the right side of the hall, my hand dragging against the ice cold wall. My breathing becomes labored, coming out in quick, short puffs. Then I hear the whisper only a few yards ahead. I step towards it eager to reach the shadow's voice.

"Stacey," it keeps whispering, a male voice but I feel like I know it. I want to reach it, to know I'll be safe then when I'm near it. My feet begin to drag as if stuck ankle deep in thick muck, dragging my slower and slower until it's a few seconds between steps, until I'm near tears in fear. I scream out to him, hoping he'll come to me but he doesn't. He just continues to whisper my name. I feel myself being dragged back, even farther away from the voice. The tears roll down my cheeks, I don't want to stop hearing the voice.

Then my feet are free and I sprint forward, blindedly into the darkness ahead. I can see him, his outline, his shadow. I get to him and gasp, he's just a shadow. Only his eyes are color, intense greenish hazel. He whispers my name and reaches out to me but he's being dragged back too. I yell and reach for him, wanting to stay here to keep me safe but he just continues to fade away into the grayness around us. I feel myself shaking, shaking so hard I can feel my teeth chattering. It's so cold, I fall to my knees and sit there shivering. It feels like my blood itself is freezing beneath my skin, like my body is just stopping. I lay on the ground and grab myself searching for warmth but none comes. My eyes flutter and I feel myself lifting away from this cold. I feel myself going, going far away out of this place, this nightmare of a place.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

So Free

Author Note: This poem shows exactly what summer makes me feel like and I can't wait for it to come!

Jumping higher
and higher
the sun bright
the air warm
the grass green
the sky blue
so beautiful

The cool black mat
beneath our feet
springing us up
towards the trees
towards the sky
so mesmerizing

The smell
of hot dogs
and hamburgers
floating from the garage
so comforting and familar
the first signs of summer
so refreshing

Summer
a time for anything
where anything seem possible
the long nights
early mornings
running
screaming
laughing
so memorable

We laugh and share stories
as we sit under the stars at night
small pinpoints in the sky
we want to remember this
these times where there are
no worries
no school
so free

Friday, February 19, 2010

Promise to Never Forget- Poem Version

Author Note: This is the poem version of the post below this, Promise to Never Forget. Enjoy.


Running across the sand
The damp grains flinging to the back of our calves
The ball passing between us
From player to player
Bouncing, skidding

We’re laughing and jumping
Thinking of nothing but this moment
As the sun sets across the lake
Dark shadows against orange light
Young, carefree

We shift to the fire
To bask in the warm air
Thinking about leaving this place
This place you never want to leave
Recollecting, remembering

These days we’ve spent together
Not wanting to forget
These people here
Influence us in the future
Thankful, respected

The future so far away
When we come back to these
Perfect memories that wander our minds
Only emerging when needed most
Savoring, remarkable

The memories that made our childhood
Meaningful and memorable
We will thank them and beg
Not to forget these memories so
Engaging, caressing

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Promise to Never Forget

Author Notes: This is a journal entry about summer time that I decided to write.

We're running across the sand, sand kicking up, plastering to the back of our calves. The ball passing from player to player, bouncing and skipping from here to there. We're laughing and jumping and tackling each other, so carefree and young. We think of nothing but this moment in time as the sun sets across the lake and the trees cast deep shadows over the orange lighting. We're daring this day to end, not wanting it to because when things are like this, life seems perfect and everything seems to be connected to perfection with no worries of breaking apart. We keep playing until the ball blends into the darkness surrounding us and we all sigh in defeat once again. We gather around the bonfire and recollect our days together and laugh and just enjoy these remarkable memories slowly, not wanting to forget because one day we will all stop coming to this place that made our childhood so memorable and meaningful. Meeting everyone here will change us into what we'll be later, in the far future and we will come back to these memories and thank them for all they've given us. These friends will seperate and some will forget what they had together here and the importance of this place and the affect it has on the soul. This place, this time, these people will hopefully never wander from my mind, and I beg it not to, because I want them with me forever so I can go back and relish in their caressing beauty.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Lost Forever

Author Note: This is based on a story I heard about when I was researching the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial for Social Studies. I thought it was a good one to show how the war affects us....I hope you like it!

The son raises his blind fathers hand
To his brothers name
His brother who fell in battle
Lost forever.
The blind father longing
To hear his sons voice again
The living brother grieving
Remembering watching
Everyone fall beside him
Lost forever.
And he remembers his brother fall
Screaming and gasping
Into the mud
Lost forever.
The brother weeps
With his father
The lost of family
And the bond of two brothers
Broken apart
Lost forever.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Journal Entry: Road

Author Note: This is a free-writing journal entry that I decided to write so Enjoy!

Driving the backroads
in the summer of '09
We pass farms and houses
All slightly different
I continue to stare contently on the road
watching the trees and grass speed by
getting only a glimpse
then I start to think
thoughts bubbling in my head
there for a second then popping
not letting me comprehend

the path, the road
they take you to places
you've never been before
showing you things
you've never seen before
then they pass
they leave your mind forever
you miss those things
you've seen or experienced
but you have to continue
down that road
otherwise you will never
get to the places you truly want to remember