This is a picture of a bvery strange anf farm

RedWriter

United States

Writing a bio for me is hard because I am myself and I could go on and on about how I think of me but would that be correct in others eyes? So I guess the only word I can really use to describe me is Bree and let my writing do the rest.

Message from Writer

Always, always always remember to see both sides of the story and you might just fill another book.

Published Work

Refuge

My Lord Jesus Christ

      Safety. I have... safety. It's uncomprehendable, this feeling, to no human could I ever feel it.
    It's a warmth, a great feeling, a refuge.
    It is the Lord my Father, Jesus Christ.
    Oh, how the cursed wood meant to kill all hope
    Became the sign of our living hope.
    How the blood of our Lord bled
    And was beautiful in the pain.
    Oh, how the Lord Jesus Christ is merciful
    For He who knew no sin became it for us
    In His love.
    Oh, how safe I feel in the arms of my Lord
    Oh, how beautiful is His presence
    How warm, how good, for though I know I am not good, He is good, and in His goodness to me I feel His glory,
    Oh, His goodness, oh, do I feel.
    

He Will Bring You

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dy9nwe9_xzw



Look at this link. Please, I invite you, listen to this song, and read these comments. It will bring you.

 

Hold Their Hands

Praise be to God for those He hath saved, Hosanna to Him in the highest - for You, my Lord Jesus Christ, have saved us all and kept us with You. You, my Lord, have boundless love, and I pray for my brothers and sisters. Please God, be with the families. Please hold their hands.

The Saved Soldier

        The musketshot echoed in the night, a loud, carrying noise that penetrated the camp. It wasn't the first for him, but it was much closer. Elijah's fallen comrades lay like dead, solemn corpses, some still with pulse, but without the strength to continue. His chest tightened as the footsteps neared and grew closer. He was the last man of his infantry in the dugout, the foliage concealing him for only God knows how much longer. Elijah knew to fire a shot now would be suicide - and, despite the burning of his general's words in his chest, he was afraid. He was all alone now. 
        A crunch - somewhere nearby. Shaking, he realized he couldn't fire. Even if he had the bravery to, he didn't want to go out killing. What was one more to take with him? Why not let life live? Clinging to the musket, Elijah closed his eyes, the night a cold and cruel darkness. Suddenly an abrupt warmth...

Good Friday

Lungs are clawing for breath
Eyes are burning
Hands are shaking as I raise them
Feet stumble and fail
In the Light of Your presence

Yes, the lungs claw for air because we must all praise You
Eyes burn for my tears gleam
Hands are unsteady before Your Divine Presence
Feet stumble as I walk when I think of what You've done
For me, for us, for everyone

Today is the day that we praise
My Lord
Jesus Christ
The Son of Man, the Son of God
Crucified for my sins
Crucified for my shames
Crucified for my anger
Crucified for my pain.

Oh, He was scorned and laughed at and mocked.
He was tortured and pained beyond belief
He was beaten and crucified, nails through His wrists and ankles
Yet not a bone was broken.
He saved the thief beside Him.
He loves us. He loves us. He loves you.
And my Lord Jesus Christ, even through His pain,...

Update

It has been reported that the crown of thorns survived - and that there was a cross still standing, at the altar. OH I beg you now, if you have not known Him, see the cross calling out as a sign to you - come to the altar. Come to Jesus Christ our King.

Notre Dame is Burning

Notre Dame is burning
What words are such as these?
What person's heart could imagine learning
The columns of ash in the breeze?

Notre Dame is burning, how mourners line the street
Singing hymnals and praying
Tears awash like the shores of Crete
Oh, look! - even the sky is graying

Notre Dame is burning
The steeple for my Savior
The glass and the steeple - oh the hub of life so sterning
Oh, may your will be done, my God and my Savior.

Notre Dame is burning, a beacon, an immovable sight
As harrowed faces freeze and pray as one
As the fire consumes, we do not concede the fight
For His hand will see us through the night

Notre Dame is burning, the center of home
As people gather and in native language sing
A belonging so profound from steeple to dome
Hear the people, hear the bells ring

Notre Dame is burning
A place of treasure stored up...

Notre Dame is Burning

Notre Dame is burning
What words are such as these?
What person's heart could imagine learning
The columns of ash in the breeze?

Notre Dame is burning, how mourners line the street
Singing hymnals and praying
Tears awash like the shores of Crete
Oh, look! - even the sky is graying

Notre Dame is burning
The steeple for my Savior
The glass and the steeple - oh the hub of life so sterning
Oh, may your will be done, my God and my Savior.

Notre Dame is burning, a beacon, an immovable sight
As harrowed faces freeze and pray as one
As the fire consumes, we do not concede the fight
For His hand will see us through the night

Notre Dame is burning
A place of treasure stored up in our hearts
Oh how we each long, yearning
To keep the place of so long love and not part

Notre Dame is burning, and we stand together
As Christians, do...

Notre Dame is Burning

Notre Dame is burning
What words are such as these?
What person's heart could imagine learning
The columns of ash in the breeze?

Notre Dame is burning, how mourners line the street
Singing hymnals and praying
Tears awash like the shores of Crete
Oh, look! - even the sky is graying

Notre Dame is burning
The steeple for my Savior
The glass and the steeple - oh the hub of life so sterning
Oh, may your will be done, my God and my Savior.

Notre Dame is burning, a beacon, an immovable sight
As harrowed faces freeze and pray as one
As the fire consumes, we do not concede the fight
For His hand will see us through the night

Notre Dame is burning
A place of treasure stored up in our hearts
Oh how we each long, yearning
To keep the place of so long love and not part

Notre Dame is burning, and we stand together
As Christians, do...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

Collective

Why don't people
Write more about the day?
Why is that people forget the sunshine-
The bright rays of wrath and wonder that flow down, transcending space and time?
Where at least everything is open, in all it's grime?

Why don't people write more about the flowers?
The meadows and fields of nature
When everything is so guarded and vague in the earthly world
Why not think about the flowers?
Those little bursts of color?
-
The spots on your arm tell a story.
Like the soil in the ground was sprinkled along your skin
Yet it only landed in particular places.
A constellation of skin tone and brilliance
All put into the spots on your arm.

Your hair weaves a song
It swings out behind you like a bullhorn on Black Friday-
This is me, it screams as the tendrils, the wisps, the brushes of colored locks fly out
Like flames on a fire tossed by air and spray, or...

History Alive

The Suffragettes

Mothers and daughters and sisters and wives
Hard to think that society didn't care for their lives
Surprise
We had to earn our way here
Each suffragette was a new pioneer
In the sphere of the near
Future was made clear
By these brave women
And some valiant men
The bonds of our nation was united again
Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott
Went against the bias that had been taught
Not only did they believe people couldn't be bought or rot in the chains where they had been bought
They fought
And Susan B. Anthony and Sojourner Truth
Didn't speak up for them, they spoke up for you
Emily Davison and Emmeline Pankhurst
All of them faced prejudice until the herse
These suffragettes and countless more
Led the charge against the sexism and gave them the what-for
Now the history is shown as women are not ignored -
And we can march forward with that accord.




 

The Day (40)

    I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

Book Review Competition 2019

The Halls of Redwall

        When you find a book, it's usually in a book store, in a library, or over the screen of your phone or tablet. Not sitting as a new Christmas gift in your brother's room. But you see, that is what happened for me. Something drew me to a book with a mouse holding a sword and shield. Matthias the mouse, pictured over a scene of animals on a wall looking down on an army of rats, caught my eye. I asked my brother if I could borrow it, and he let me since he doesn't like to read as much as I do. So I took it into my room, and so began my love for Redwall.
       Redwall is the first of many books by Brian Jacques, though not one that ends so you have read the rest that follow. As all characters consist from mice to rats, squirrels to badgers, voles to shrews, and foxes to snakes, many picture Redwall...

Book Review Competition 2019

The Halls of Redwall

        When you find a book, it's usually in a book store, in a library, or over the screen of your phone or tablet. Not sitting as a new Christmas gift in your brother's room. But you see, that is what happened for me. Something drew me to a book with a mouse holding a sword and shield. Matthias the mouse, pictured over a scene of animals on a wall looking down on an army of rats, caught my eye. I asked my brother if I could borrow it, and he let me since he doesn't like to read as much as I do. So I took it into my room, and so began my love for Redwall.
       Redwall is the first of many books by Brian Jacques, though not one that ends so you have read the rest that follow. As all characters consist from mice to rats, squirrels to badgers, voles to shrews, and foxes to snakes, many picture Redwall...

Not Nothing

Say it's not nothing.
Say you care, please.
I feel I've fallen short, I've reached so far, my legs just tangled in my own forest of words
I've said too much, I've said too little.
See, I seemed to have rooted myself with my words
Because the tops of the trees came first in some cases, before I could see them.
And, unbeknownst to me, I was rooted there as the gnarled feet of the tree wrapped around me.
Or a forest of weeds, of flowers I have wound around myself in all my desperation-
Or a sea with sand clutching at my heels-
And I should not complain, for I made these myself, I have trapped myself
See? See how foolish I am?
Scrapping this guitar's string
Holding the wooden drumsticks
Clinging the flute's cold metallic body
Hugging the warm brass
As I try to put my words into music, for music seems to be the most understandable language. ...

The Vistas Beyond

But, Instead, Life

Beside my window sits two bushes, a few sticks pressed to my window, tapping my attention as I once again peer from behind the red curtain and the blind. The purple clouds moves like a true force, climbing over the wall of green where pine trees stand at the end of the yard, approaching the tree facing skywards. If it were a chessboard, the pines are rooks, my bushes my last line of defense, the tree my noble bishop - but it is not a chessboard, but instead, life.

Open Letter

It has come to my attention that all of America is at fault. Did you know that the children taken from their families have had numbers put on them? Did you know?
It is only my faith in God and my respect that I do not declare all supporters of a mad man that I currently in office and who promote this a vile people. Do you not learn? Do you not learn at all? I tell myself in all my righteous indignation how horrible this is, and just the thought brings the clear shame and revulsion back. 
This will not happen. We must stop it, it should tear every good persons' heart out to hear, to know this is what has become of our country. This is why we find ourselves studying history so steadfastly, shocked that it repeats, just as France seems to be on the road to. Free of the reins that once held my tongue, I...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

wow

    Ryder stared at the woman with the clipboard blankly, forcing himself to conceal emotion for the remaining thirty minutes he had in the room. It was washed in white, with a blue stool near the back corner and a bookshelf with brown-clad spines near his chair. It was nothing like the waiting room with all of the beautiful pictures and colors. A few moments of silence passed between the two of them. "Do you know why you're here, Ryder?"
    The woman had blonde hair and ballast blue eyes that seemed to search every inch of him to find something wrong. He hated that. Why did there always have to be something wrong with him? Two people and the third seemed to be the worst. Ryder stiffened his jaw. "No."
    "Your parents thought this might be a good outlet for you. You know why, I think."
    Ryder stared at her, wondering if she expected him to answer.
    "Ryder," she said in a...

Once There Was A Time

Once there was a time when there was no Democrat or Republicans, but Democratic-Republicans.

Once there was a time when there was no they or them, but We The People.

Once there was a time when there was no acting kind, but being kind.

Once there was time when there was no red or blue, but red, white, and blue.

Once there was a time when there was no self-treated one, but neighbors treated as that one would like to be.

Once there was a time when there was no constant tension, but consistency of intense unity.

Once there was a time when there was no states reuniting to come back together after blowouts, but the United States of America, to brave anything from anywhere that dared try to break them.
I wonder if we can return to a time.
 

Once There Was A Time

Once there was a time when there was no Democrat or Republicans, but Democratic-Republicans.

Once there was a time when there was no they or them, but We The People.

Once there was a time when there was no acting kind, but being kind.

Once there was time when there was no red or blue, but red, white, and blue.

Once there was a time when there was no self-treated one, but neighbors treated as that one would like to be.

Once there was a time when there was no constant tension, but consistency of intense unity.

Once there was a time when there was no states reuniting to come back together after blowouts, but the United States of America, to brave anything from anywhere that dared try to break them.
I wonder if we can return to a time.
 

Speech Writing Competition 2018

Definitions of Impossible

                                                                         Definitions of Impossible
        There are many definitions of impossible. People experience that thought every day, especially when looking towards each other and seeing the many things that make us different. For some it is the way they look; for some it is the way they act; for some it is the way they talk. Constantly, factors, multiple factors, keep us apart and separate from coming together - and though it might not be plausible to imagine everyone from all areas of life coming together, it is not impossible. 
        What do we regard as impossible? Is it the waistband of our jeans and the waistband of the jeans on the rack? Impossible to be liked, to be loved, when you cannot fit into certain sizes? Or maybe it's how our hair is longer and messier than everyone else's because we can't afford a haircut every time we need it. It would be impossible to be liked if we didn't all have good hair, wouldn't it? Here's a story I witnessed myself - a boy in...

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips, even if it my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped at a lot of places before we went to the man's home. Pulling the car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then face the extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the car and let gravity drag us down. But instead, my aunt...

He Loves You

Be grateful to God because He is everything. Without Him, we would be creatures of awful sin forever condemned to suffering - without Him, we would be nothing, in all honesty. But because He is with us, because we know Him and keep loving and praising Him in our hearts and spread His word, we are loved and He is merciful to people so undeserving of His kindness. Be grateful; God made you and loves you, and that is what truly matters.

Speech Writing Competition 2018

Definitions of Impossible

                                                                         Definitions of Impossible
        There are many definitions of impossible. Maybe you first thought it was impossible when you stared in the mirror and just thought of everyone else you knew, you liked - it was impossible to look like them. Maybe when you first came to school you had to dress nice, comb your hair perfectly, keep your chin up while you keep your head down, in order to fit in until someone noticed you for all the wrong reasons - it was impossible for you to expect otherwise. Maybe when you look at someone and started, instantly, to judge them, restricting yourself from their company because of your own pride, thinking it impossible to do otherwise.
        Or was it your first bike, that you thought was impossible to ever ride? The first time you approached the deep end of the pool, it was impossible to just dive in? The hard times, it is impossible to come to something great when you're trapped...

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn again. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips so far, this being my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past so many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped a lot of places before we got to the man's house. Pulling the black car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then we were turning down an extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the...

The Right Thing

    Please don't make this the way you are trying to. This is not just two people, but this is all of the people - everyone is counting on you. If you know what is right - not right to your party, not right to administration but right to you - do what is right to you. So, I beg you, every person sitting in the senate, do what is right. That is what separates the heros from the herded.

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn again. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips so far, this being my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past so many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped a lot of places before we got to the man's house. Pulling the black car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then we were turning down an extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the...

Sugar

         Lying down, against the dust-colored couch, she sighed and brushed her indigo hair impatiently out of her eyes. The stale air she breathed - in, out - was beginning to choke her lungs as she stared at the ceiling, the television playing to her side, a million thoughts running across her mind. Didn't she have a Biology test tomorrow? And a paper to cite, in History? And then she was supposed to be practicing for the ACT,  because the test was next Saturday? Listlessly she let her focus ping-pong around the room, too exhausted from her all-nighter and yet to awake to sleep.
        A zipping sound interrupted the passive music of the commercial and she felt the numb sounds turn more present from where her mind had been wondering. Immediately she folded her legs under her and reached to grab her Android. A small line across the screen read 'New Message from Thompson.'
        She grinned suddenly and swiped a finger...

Yorktown

The Battle of Yorktown!





 

Walking

I Will Be There

I will be there.
I turn and look at her, with her green eyes wet with sadness, her hair combed up away by shaking hands and I want so badly to reach out and take her shoulder in my grasp, to let her now she is not alone in her grief. I want to hold her sorrows as my own if that would only make her smile.
I want to say, I will be there.
I turn then to her, with blue eyes, her smile so flawed but flawed only with her perfection- there is so much of it. I want to say to her, she is perfect, she is beautiful, she is even more than that- she is all of what I could wish to have, and that is perfection. I want to make that smile real, smiling because you are happy.
I want to say, I will be there.
And then I look ahead and see her, her...

Answer

Answer me.
Why have we started to fade from our kind mannerisms, why have we gone so far from our beliefs? We all must know what is right. We all must know what is wrong. Then why, why must we do it? Why must we cordially conform to laughing along, to using curse words and disparaging our own image through our silent agreement, our willingness to laugh along and nod? We are willing to change everything, as an average, aren't we?
Are we really willing to do this?
Answer me.

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn again. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips so far, this being my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past so many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped a lot of places before we got to the man's house. Pulling the black car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then we were turning down an extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the...

Would You Love Her?

    Would you love her? Her, with her too-large clothes, her, who for a while just sat at the center table because she didn't know where to go and at least he teachers could see if she was going to get bullied. Would you love her? Her, who busies herself with work to forget that so many different problems are going on and constantly, constantly writes and studies history, though some may call it boring. Would you love her? Her, with her new book-series backpack and changing emotions?
    Would you love her? Beyond the surface, would you love the fact she struggles and finds in her family and passion a bond that was missing amongst her classmates. Would you love her? Would you love the fact that she likes to make references and puns and that she wants so dearly to be herself and yet the right moment seems to be a bit far still? Would you love her? Her, who cries sometimes...

Would You Love Her?

    Would you love her? Her, with her too-large clothes, her, who for a while just sat at the center table because she didn't know where to go and at least he teachers could see if she was going to get bullied. Would you love her? Her, who busies herself with work to forget that so many different problems are going on and constantly, constantly writes and studies history, though some may call it boring. Would you love her? Her, with her new book-series backpack and changing emotions/
    Would you love her? Beyond the surface, would you love the fact she struggles and finds in her family and passion a bond that was missing amongst her classmates. Would you love her? Would you love the fact that she likes to make references and puns and that she wants so dearly to be herself and yet the right moment seems to be a bit far still? Would you love her? Her, who cries sometimes...

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn again. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips so far, this being my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past so many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped a lot of places before we got to the man's house. Pulling the black car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then we were turning down an extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the...

Alamo: To Claudia

Time is against us, as always. I never was a poet, and I do not intend to try now to become one. But, praise God, I did learn to mean three words from you. I love you.

To Miss Claudia Dallas
Yours, Lake Dallas
 

Alamo: To Anastasia

Pray for me, my doll, so one day I might see you in the afterlife. Killing is not for the saints, and I need you to know that I do not face any tomorrow. They will charge at us and we will fight the fight everyone will remember for years, and I am proud to say I will partake. I do not accept death even when it nips at my heels, but the odds are not in our favor. It looks grim, and no man's face is that of a smile. Except mine; mine, for I am theat odd sort of clever fool that knows your love will save me from all harm. God watch over us. I never got to meet my child, and I wish you would name him Christopher for my brother- for truly it is sadder to watch him sit idly while I write this, and I am so thankful to have loved and feel the...

Alamo: To Nina

We arrived here not that long ago, do you remember, Nina? No one really took to us. We were the odd ones out, but that was alright, would you like to know why? Because we had each other, because we loved each other, and because we both saw that. Now, I am to die defending people I barely know, for a cause I am not sure will survive. But I do it because of the men- I have made friends, too many to count here, many of them with Native American mothers or fathers. I do this for them, and for you- for believing me when I said I would make a difference in this world, or die trying. I apologize for the fact I never gave you any children- there was no greater gift besides that of God's guidance, and I failed.
Please be content in the knowing that I love you, and that I always shall even if...

Alamo: To Charlotte

I have never seen men more downcast. I know better than to lie to you, Charlotte, so I will ask of you to remain in good faith of our Lord God because I know He will not take me before I have fought my fight, and that He has let me lead a life of happiness with you and Beatrice, for the short time I got to know my daughter. You are, my love, the woman I have always searched for. Your poise, grace, and compassion are your best assets, and you must not lose them to things not worth mentioning in the face of such beauty- disgusting names like war, death, and carnage. I run out of time as I write this, and I want to try to rest so I can have another dream of you before I arise in the light of morning, but you must know how deeply my soul longs to be with yours, and...

Alamo: To Selene

I love you, and I love the children- know I wish the best life offers for all of you, and that each of you warm my heart at the mere thought of your happiness and laughter. I fear tonight is my last night, for reasons that will soon be clear. Susan, Boris, and little Candace, your Father loves you with all of his heart, and to you Selene, I give everything too, as my one and only true lover in all the world.

To you, my dearest Selene Sigfrid
From, Manfred Sigfrid

Alamo: To Bonnie

Bonnie, you know of myy iliteracy, and I wonnt hide my nerve's help me not, but there was'nt a chance I coold leave this world without fisrt writing to you. Tommorow does not look to be on our side, and weeve bearly survived as it is. I will fight and give it all of my power to ggive the enemy hell. But I mmust tell you befeore I fight and tommorow arrives, that you are the most preceious thing in the world to me, and to everyone you meet. May love always stay with you, beuatiful Bonnie. If there was one word I caan spell, it is this:
Bonnie
And it is the best. I love you,

To, Bonnie Cart
From, Jimmy Cart

Alamo: To Betsy

    Betsy, know with all of my heart I wanted nothing more than to give you what you want, what you need. I dared to take a rest from the income of patients only on the assurance that it would be my last, for the work would keep me up deep into the night. I should sleep, but I cannot, on this short break, this short reprieve, and so I asked for a sheet. I do not mean to alarm you, but it looks grim. The facts we face of rising challengers, so close to us, are not something I would wish on anyone, man, woman, or child.
    I tend to the patients as best I can with such short supplies- mostly they like me to listen to them, to copy down letters to their wives and children and daughters, to their sons and mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters and even their nieces and nephews- any family they have...

Alamo: To Flora

People are discouraged, My Heart, and I cannot blame them- the times are dire and everything is bleak. You are not even my wife, and I know to use your name would imply you belong to me- but you don't, though I wish you did. You are engaged to the brute- and I hope, Flora, you find the courage to go out in life and get what you want. Do not sit back, but chase what you want. I would have liked to believe, at one time, that was me- but it no longer can be. I will have you in my mind and heart the moment I am struck down tomorrow, because I will fight with every breath in my body in the hopes I might get back to you so we can run away. Find a good life and chase it with all of your heart. If not for yourself, then do it for me.
I will make...

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Trays

    My aunt and I pull out of the side road again, after making a full circle and very nearly missing the turn again. I laugh and she does too as we enter the long strip of highway. I like these trips so far, this being my first time. It's so green outside, I remember, as we drive past so many fields and begin to take more and more backroads, which thrill me- in all the years I have lived here, I've never been so many ways, to see so many places within our small county, so near my home.
    We stopped a lot of places before we got to the man's house. Pulling the black car out and narrowly avoiding a speedy driver, we continued through the yellow flowered fields and past the cemetery. I watched out the window and read the names, and then we were turning down an extremely steep hill where we might have just stopped the...

George Washington's Farewell Address

Today is the day George Washington published his Farewell Address! This day is a day I truly hold dear, as well as being the day my friend was born.
What a great day!
I will always remember you Washington, and say thank you. Thank you so much for being the man every good American should cherish. Again I thank you for all of your service, and for giving this speech as President of the United States. because all those years ago, when tears came down your face, you read this famous speech to all Americans. One Last Time.

Mad Libs

Dawson

Dawson Forrest is a 16-year-old basketball player who lives in a small neighborhood. Known for being active and loyal, he wants nothing more than to play sports and become a doctor, unbeknownst to his friends. He pretends to be in a real relationship, when inside he feels a little bit unsure. Dawson's biggest fear is failure and judgement (more specifically police officers). What Dawson needs is an adventure; the biggest things getting in the way is no one.

Unconventional

Sinking Ships Have No Sailors

                                                       Sinking ships have no sailors
                                                        don't you find that
                                                        to be true

                                                        Sometimes captains
                                                        will rot at the bottom
                                                         of depths blue
    
                                                        But everyone else
    
                                                         They leave, don't they?

                                                            Don't they leave?
                                                        Why won't you leave
                                                            me roped to the mast

                
                                                            Captains were not made to leave their ships
                                                            Just sailors
                                                            sailors are better that way
                                                            float on

                                                            Let the hull drag it's mass down
                                                            try to get away
                                                            take whatever of the hoard you can make off with

                                                                Let me alone! 
                                                            don't you know, you must know
                                                                sinking ships have no sailors
                                                                there can't be two captains
                                                            
                                                                Go, please go
                                                                Don't you know? You must know
                                                                sinking ships have no sailors



                                                            
 

#rwidsomcontest The Song Has Begun

    I never meant for it to play out like this
    You know what's coming, don't you?
    The unmistakable mistakes of pain
    Longing, crooning over the phone in the latest hours of the night
    And happy tears after a long time of not seeing eachother
    Introducing our sisters and brothers
    Family making prejudice, or we'll be one of the few
    That take each other in when there are troubled times.
    When you shout at me, you'll screech and rip your lungs
    And I'll roar like the lion while you howl to the moon
    And we'll sing at dawn's rising head 
    Dancing In the streets like drunken foolish children
    That opened a bottle of too much cough medicine
    To happy to be sick, to sick to resist the happiness
    And cries.
    And then might come a wet kiss underneath
    The white buds of mistletoe
    If this lasts 'till Christmas we shop at an old gardening store.
    So much happiness and sadness, the only explanation is love, isn't it?
    But I never meant for it...

Alamo: To Elma

I've wondered many times over if you will ever get this message. And what should I put in it? How do you say, "Goodbye, my wife, whom I will cherish forever and always," in a letter--scribbled ink carried by what survivors there might be, if there are any? We all know death approaches, and I have no intention to run. There aren't many of us, as you know. And now in the frantic scratching all around me, I can't see the parchment more than I can see my own hand. Yet I keep writing, because there must be someway to tell you, to make you understand, the pain that I feel of the idea I will by this time tomorrow be dead and you shall be widowed with four children. Tell Jo to take my savings to get into West Point- he will make a good officer. Anne has my blessing, because I now see how selfish it is of me to...

Alamo: To Elma

I've wondered many times over if you will ever get this message. And what should I put in it? How do you say, "Goodbye, my wife, whom I will cherish forever and always," in a letter--scribbled ink carried by what survivors there might be, if there are any? We all know death approaches, and I have no intention to run. There aren't many of us, as you know. And now in the frantic scratching all around me, I can't see the parchment more than I can see my own hand. Yet I keep writing, because there must be someway to tell you, to make you understand, the pain that I feel of the idea I will by this time tomorrow be dead and you shall be widowed with four children. Tell Jo to take my savings to get into West Point- he will make a good officer. Anne has my blessing, because I now see how selfish it is of me to...

Scream

        Those steel gray, immovable towers stand tall above the city. The sun had risen and set many times, reflecting off those many glass panes with workers inside. Maybe some were comin back down the stairs to end their shifts- maybe some were just starting their work, had just sat down at their desks and began a day. All in these symbols of innovation, these twin towers of the world trade center. They must have been proud to work there.
    Look to this low flying plane. Many had seen it, skimming the sides of buildings, flying to fast, too low. It should be reported. Perhaps some even had their hands on the last button of 911 when it struck. Or maybe they'd already called. Or maybe they were nudging Travis complaining, "What happened to that plane?"
    Then, though not slow, the plane flies with wings stiff and yet you can imagine the protests of the people onboard. There is no few...

God Is Not Dead

God is not dead. He is here with me in my suffering in pain. I fear the consequences of his wrath, I fear a world where I do not have my Lord who gives me strength and mercy.
God is not dead. He helps so many across the world - he does not forsake them, no matter how hard the challenges. God loves us all, and he never runs.
God is not dead. I feel sorry for those who deny him. I feel sadness for those without him.
God is not dead. 
God is not dead.

#rwidsomcontest The Song Has Begun

    I never meant for it to play out like this
    You know what's coming, don't you?
    The unmistakable mistakes of pain
    Longing, crooning over the phone in the latest hours of the night
    And happy tears after a long time of not seeing eachother
    Introducing our sisters and brothers
    Family making prejudice, or we'll be one of the few
    That take each other in when there are troubled times.
    When you shout at me, you'll screech and rip your lungs
    And I'll roar like the lion while you howl to the moon
    And we'll sing at dawn's rising head 
    Dancing In the streets like drunken foolish children
    That opened a bottle of too much cough medicine
    To happy to be sick, to sick to resist the happiness
    And cries.
    And then might come a wet kiss underneath
    The white buds of mistletoe
    If this lasts 'till Christmas of we shop at an old gardening store.
    So much happiness and sadness, the only explanation is love, isn't it?
    But I never meant for...

#rwidsomcontest The Song Has Begun

    I never meant for it to play out like this
    The wind curling around your elven ears
    As you watched the clock strike twelve
    And the bus gave a roaring hiss
    And away I pulled into the night

    I watched, stony in my face as you stared at the third window
    And shook my head slightly,
    And you waited for me, your eyes not wide as always
    But small, squinting in the streetlamp
    To see me

    And you reached a hand out without knowing
    And I responded, but I turned away
    To scream so loud, but not loud enough where you could hear me through
    The thin walls of the bus
    And I sobbed alone on a misshapen cushion.

    Why must we play the tragedy of Shakespearean verses?
    No- not that
    But the tragedy of reality
    I'd much rather sit in this seat
    With you beside me.

    I am aware of the unfairness
    Of our situation
    But in my godmother's words ...

Why?

Why? Why are we letting this happen? 3,000 people in Puerto Rico? Why?

John McCain

Goodbye, we will celebrate as you have asked us too in the love of this country, and though you insist you are not a hero, there are many who can't help but think of you as such.

Granted

Up until now, my life had been a lie. A line of intermediate tasks bouncing up and down, with both joy and injustice. It was a harsh life, yes, with few moments if reprieve from Uncle Thomas' rules, but I had been content. Content to make friends but never talk to them, content to meet the insanely high expectations of my uncle, content to beat up anybody who undermined him and his other nephew, my cousin, content to slowly give him power over the city through threats and thievery, with blood on my hands. And now...
Now there was this insanely beautiful girl waiting for me to either turn on my heel and stride through the thicket back to the bus stop or to join her and her cousin, if that's who he really was, waiting in an old blue hatchback. She was waiting for me, her brown eyes flecked with fear, fearing I wouldn't come with her. Her lithe...

Forward Backward

Black and White

Black and white
She's dressed in black and white
And her earrings are ivory and
Her stockings are coal
Black and white
She strides on

Riding down the winding roads
Watch her bounce
On the saddle,
Riding
She goes with her heart in her throat.
In the jaws of her fear she goes on.

The noose is awaiting a neck
Still must she go on through
Her feet hit the ground with a cloud of dust
And she strides on, she strides on,
Her black and white drenched in new days' light

Here We Go

Here we go. I don't know how this is going to end, but I know it will all be worth it.
 

Mr. Right (#LoveOrSomething Contest)

    "Take a seat, please,"  the receptionist told me, before returning her gaze to her computer screen, reflecting in her dark eyes. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and turned to the back of the small washboard-white room with a few plastic chairs shoved against each other. To my right was an older couple, and then a man with a half-shaved beard and thin face and backpack between his legs to my right. I plopped down in the middle of the chairs, seeing the man sitting there staring at the ceiling and the older couple murmuring things. It shouldn't take that long for my appointment, with the small amount of people there. The counter, marble and with red clipboards of information, seemed a step away, like I could just leap over and run to the doctor. I wanted to see him, so I could get to school in time to turn in my assignments-
    I stopped dead. My English essay- I'd forgotten...

He Hurts

    He hurts. Do you see that? How his face twists in agony, every time someone mentions her name. And no one knows if it's real, because we're teenagers, and we're all supposed to be drunk on the feeling of being young and stupid and self-righteous. But when you can see that from the hallway, the way he leans against the lockers and watches her as she sweeps by without a glance, chatting animatedly with her friends... doesn't that mean something? Isn't that real? She's happy. She's fine. But the way he looks down without seeming to move his head, the way...
    The way I look at him.I shook that off and shouldered my backpack, heading to second period, wanting to get there or risk being told off by Mr. Tunner for tardiness- was I doing drugs in the bathroom, spitting dip in the cracks of the walls, or off somewhere making out inappropriately, he would ask, and then the...

Personal Narrative Competition 2018

Eight Letters

    What is it? First grade? Kindergarten? Surrounded by my small classmates, sitting at our oversized desks. I only remember some of them, my little friends, because at that age we were all friends, and for odd reasons. But at least I remembered them, and my teacher, near our desks that day. I don't remember the date, exactly, but I do remember what we did then. Next to our cluster of small desks where we sat with a paper stretched in front of us and pencil in our hands, our teacher called out her instructions. That day, we had spelled 'together'. Together. The teacher had even sounded it out for us in an easy way so we could remember- 'to - get - her'. Simple, is how she meant it.
    "Spell 'together', and then you can go to lunch," she'd said, and I don't recall her name exactly, but I think it had been Miss Hale. All around me the kids...

Why?

Why do people try so hard to fit in? What for? Better to be hated for who you are than loved for what you're not. Why must we strive for the approval of others if we do not approve of what we are doing ourselves? I ask you.

Personal Narrative Competition 2018

Eight Letters

    What is it? First grade? Kindergarten? Sitting at a desk, surrounded by my classmates. I only remember some of them, and for odd reasons. But at least I remembered them, and my teacher, near our desks that day. I don't remember the date, exactly, but I do remember what we did then. Next to our cluster of small desks where we sat with a paper stretched in front of us and pencil in our hands, our teacher called out her instructions. That day, we had spelled 'together'. Together. The teacher had even sounded it out for us in an easy way so we could remember- 'to - get - her'. Simple, is how she meant it.
    "Spell 'together', and then you can go to lunch," she'd said, and I don't recall her name exactly, but I think it had been Miss Hale. All around me people were- the kids were going up and just giving it to her, and she'd...

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, Eliza Hamilton.

To Kaitlyn

I do not usually do this. In fact, I have wanted to say thus multiple times to multiple people. But, being inspired by mrcollinredwards, I would also like to say:
Kaitlyn, please return.

Write the world is odd
Without the bright user screen
That is yours, Kaitlyn

A List of 22 Reasons Pres. Trump Should Be Removed from and Doubting the Legitimacy of His Position In Office as President of the United States of America.

    Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, this is a letter disavowing the legitimacy of President Trump's position as President of our United States of America. Now, I will start from the beginning of his presidency and not his campaign for multiple reasons- there are many things that should have kept him from winning the election and yet he did win; though, I will address the Russian meddling that occurred in the election process. In fact, that should be the first thing to be addressed, as I will have a list of reasons that Donald Trump can no longer remain in power as President of the United States without endangering the very existence of the country in the near future.
    1. The meddling in the election has been proven. I mean, that is no longer a question. They put out false ads and President Putin has admitted to wanting Donald Trump to win the election during his summit in Helsinki, Finland. It is a...

A List of 22 Reasons Pres. Trump Should Be Removed from and Doubting the Legitimacy of His Position In Office as President of the United States of America.

    Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, this is a letter disavowing the legitimacy of President Trump's position as President of our United States of America. Now, I will start from the beginning of his presidency and not his campaign for multiple reasons- there are many things that should have kept him from winning the election and yet he did win; though, I will address the Russian meddling that occurred in the election process. In fact, that should be the first thing to be addressed, as I will have a list of reasons that Donald Trump can no longer remain in power as President of the United States without endangering the very existence of the country in the near future.
    1. The meddling in the election has been proven. I mean, that is no longer a question. They put out false ads and President Putin has admitted to wanting Donald Trump to win the election during his summit in Helsinki, Finland. It is a...

FACT

And That's A Fact

The bell never jingles as often as it used too
Overhead that old door
At least, I don't hear it as much as I used to
And that's a fact.

The ice cream seems to have melted away
Or everyone has demanded those things
At least, I don't taste those things anymore.
And that's a fact.

The castle just visible over the mountain has shrunken
So you can't see it on that highway anymore
At least, I don't see it that often
And that's a fact.

That bus doesn't stop in front of that sidewalk anymore
It must've changed it's route
At least, I don't board it like I did years ago
And that's a fact.

This face is getting more and more troubled
This piece has taken it's toll
At least, on me it has
And that's a fact.





 

A List of 22 Reasons Pres. Trump Should Be Removed from and Doubting the Legitimacy of His Position In Office as President of the United States of America.

    Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, this is a letter disavowing the legitimacy of President Trump's position as President of our United States of America. Now, I will start from the beginning of his presidency and not his campaign for multiple reasons- there are many things that should have kept him from winning the election and yet he did win; though, I will address the Russian meddling that occurred in the election process. In fact, that should be the first thing to be addressed, as I will have a list of reasons that Donald Trump can no longer remain in power as President of the United States without endangering the very existence of the country in the near future.
    1. The meddling in the election has been proven. I mean, that is no longer a question. They put out false ads and President Putin has admitted to wanting Donald Trump to win the election during his summit in Helsinki, Finland. It is a...

Life Through Letters

March 19, 1778
Dear Jared Pierot,

     It is often strange that I find Lady Laurel standing in front of the door. She stares at it, as if waiting for someone to come inside and sweep her away. Whom besides you, sir, might she be standing for? Waiting outside the door of our common life room?
Pray tell, might thy ask, what should I say to her? Under your orders of course, but I feel that I might have to step in as you are riding away to Elizabethtown in the morning. I ask for some instructions in case the worst was to happen and ask you might talk with Lady Laurel. I am not known for expertise when it comes to enquiring others about hidden things, and often am gullible. I am fully aware of this and hope to see you later this night before dawn break for further instructions. 
 The Best of Wishes,
Your Son-in-law,
Ladian Defane

.

April 22,...

A List of 22 Reasons Pres. Trump Should Be Removed from and Doubting the Legitimacy of His Position In Office as President of the United States of America.

    Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, this is a letter disavowing the legitimacy of President Trump's position as President of our United States of America. Now, I will start from the beginning of his presidency and not his campaign for multiple reasons- there are many things that should have kept him from winning the election and yet he did win; though, I will address the Russian meddling that occurred in the election process. In fact, that should be the first thing to be addressed, as I will have a list of reasons that Donald Trump can no longer remain in power as President of the United States without endangering the very existence of the country in the near future.
    1. The meddling in the election has been proven. I mean, that is no longer a question. They put out false ads and President Putin has admitted to wanting Donald Trump to win the election during his summit in Helsinki, Finland. It is a...

Alamo: To Flora

People are discouraged, My Heart, and I cannot blame them- the times are dire and everything is bleak. You are not even my wife, and I know to use your name would imply you belong to me- but you don't, though I wish you did. You are engaged to the brute- and I hope, Flora, you find the courage to go out in life and get what you want. Do not sit back, but chase what you want. I would have liked to believe, at one time, that was me- but it no longer can be. I will have you in my mind and heart the moment I am struck down tomorrow, because I will fight with every breath in my body in the hopes I might get back to you so we can run away. Find a good life and chase it with all of your heart. If not for yourself, then do it for me.
I will make...

Alamo: To Betsy

Betsy, know with all of my heart I wanted nothing more than to give you what you want, what you need. I dared to take a rest from the income of patients only on the assurance that it would be my last, for the work would keep me up deep into the night. I should sleep, but I cannot, on this short break, this short reprieve, and so I asked for a sheet. I do not mean to alarm you, but it looks grim. The facts we face of rising challengers, so close to us, are not something I would wish on anyone, man, woman, or child.
I tend to the patients as best I can with such short supplies- mostly they like me to listen to them, to copy down letters to their wives and children and daughters, to their sons and mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters and even their nieces and nephews- any family they have...

Alamo: To Grace

Grace, take my papers and seal them for our generations to come, please. I beg you take my letter and bury it in the ground- it is all you will have to bury. I must fight, and if this is my last letter, I want you to know I am aware of the forcedness in our marriage- I know you did not truly love me when we married. I know the one you did love, Alvin, went off to war and did not return to you, but please, Grace, I did love you. I loved you, and though you could never love me the way I loved you, I know we were good friends. Our child, Max, and you, are who I give everything to my name, down to my garments. Grace, sweet Grace, do not marry out of habit again and do not feel guilt for not feeling something- feeling is not a thing we can control, it does...

Alamo: To Bonnie

Bonnie, you know of myy iliteracy, and I wonnt hide my nerve's help me not, but there was'nt a chance I coold leave this world without fisrt writing to you. Tommorow does not look to be on our side, and weeve bearly survived as it is. I will fight and give it all of my power to ggive the enemy hell. But I mmust tell you befeore I fight and tommorow arrives, that you are the most preceious thing in the world to me, and to everyone you meet. May love always stay with you, beuatiful Bonnie. If there was one word I caan spell, it is this:
Bonnie
And it is the best. I love you,

To, Bonnie Cart
From, Jimmy Cart

Alamo: To Selene

I love you, and I love the children- know I wish the best life offers for all of you, and that each of you warm my heart at the mere thought of your happiness and laughter. I fear tonight is my last night, for reasons that will soon be clear. Susan, Boris, and little Candace, your Father loves you with all of his heart, and to you Selene, I give everything too, as my one and only true lover in all the world.

To you, my dearest Selene Sigfrid
From, Manfred Sigfrid

Alamo: To Nina

We arrived here not that long ago, do you remember, Nina? No one really took to us. We were the odd ones out, but that was alright, would you like to know why? Because we had each other, because we loved each other, and because we both saw that. Now, I am to die defending people I barely know, for a cause I am not sure will survive. But I do it because of the men- I have made friends, too many to count here, many of them with Native American mothers or fathers. I do this for them, and for you- for believing me when I said I would make a difference in this world, or die trying. I apologize for the fact I never gave you any children- there was no greater gift besides that of God's guidance, and I failed.
Please be content in the knowing that I love you, and that I always shall even if...

Alamo: To Charlotte

I have never seen men more downcast. I know better than to lie to you, Charlotte, so I will ask of you to remain in good faith of our Lord God because I know He will not take me before I have fought my fight, and that He has let me lead a life of happiness with you and Beatrice, for the short time I got to know my daughter. You are, my love, the woman I have always searched for. Your poise, grace, and compassion are your best assets, and you must not lose them to things not worth mentioning in the face of such beauty- disgusting names like war, death, and carnage. I run out of time as I write this, and I want to try to rest so I can have another dream of you before I arise in the light of morning, but you must know how deeply my soul longs to be with yours, and...

Alamo: To Anastasia

Pray for me, my doll, so one day I might see you in the afterlife. Killing is not for the saints, and I need you to know that I do not face any tomorrow. They will charge at us and we will fight the fight everyone will remember for years, and I am proud to say I will partake. I do not accept death even when it nips at my heels, but the odds are not in our favor. It looks grim, and no man's face is that of a smile. Except mine; mine, for I am theat odd sort of clever fool that knows your love will save me from all harm. God watch over us. I never got to meet my child, and I wish you would name him Christopher for my brother- for truly it is sadder to watch him sit idly while I write this, and I am so thankful to have loved and feel the...

Alamo: To Claudia

Time is against us, as always. I never was a poet, and I do not intend to try now to become one. But, praise God, I did learn to mean three words from you. I love you.

To Miss Claudia Dallas
Yours, Lake Dallas
 

Alamo: To Elma

I wondered many times over if you will ever get this message. And what should I put in it? How do you say, goodbye, my wife, whom I will cherish forever and always, in a letter, in scribbled ink carried by what survivors there will be, if there are any? We all know death approaches, and I have no intention to run. There aren't many of us, as you know. And now in the frantic scratching all around me, I can't see the parchment more than I can see my own hand. Yet I keep writing, because there must be someway to tell you, to make you understand, the pain that I feel of the idea I will by this time tomorrow be dead and you shall be widowed with four children. Tell Jo to take my savings to get into West Point- he will make a good officer. Anne has my blessing, because I now see how selfish it is...

Declaration of Independence!

Today we were declared to certain war
For a cause worth fighting for
The country conceived in liberty
Fought against housing, stamps, and tea

And then hundreds of years later, to this day
We remember what those men writ and the foundation they lay
The blood this paper shed, from the people they couldn't cow
Well stand, all the heroes, the writers, the makers of our country under Divine Providence take a bow

May this act as a reminder, that even against all odds
Even as around the world people frown while simply one nods
Kings and castles and nobility were fell from a rabble in arms, a group of our fighting men
And this was started, as it always seems to be, with the power of the pen
 

The Role of A President

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, today I would simply like to impress upon you what the role of the President of the United States of America is. That is, the following fall under the job description of the American people: To act as a figurehead and represent the American people, to sign and pass bills presented by the legislation, to control the military, and above all, to protect and perform their duties with the Constitution of the United States. Now, that being said, I would like to show you ways that President Donald Trump has tarnished these sacred rights passed onto him from the past 44 presidents, starting with the amazing George Washington to... to the current one, though only after I tell you from a political standpoint how he is failing with his job, I will reveal my feelings if you are not already aware on the president.
First, I listed in the description of his duties that the president...

The Role of A President

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, today I would simply like to impress upon you what the role of the President of the United States of America is. That is, the following fall under the job description of the American people: To act as a figurehead and represent the American people, to sign and pass bills presented by the legislation, to control the military, and above all, to protect and perform their duties with the Constitution of the United States. Now, that being said, I would like to show you ways that President Donald trump has tarnished these sacred rights passed onto him from the past 44 presidents, starting with the amazing George Washington to... to the current one, though only after I tell you from a political standpoint how he is failing with his job, I will reveal my feelings if you are not already aware on the president.
First, I listed in the description of his duties that the president...

Alamo: To Flora

People are discouraged, My Heart, and I cannot blame them- the times are dire and everything is bleak. You are not even my wife, and I know to use your name would imply you belong to me- but you don't, though I wish you did. You are engaged to the brute- and I hope, Flora, you find the courage to go out in life and get what you want. Do not sit back, but chase what you want. I would have liked to believe, at one time, that was me- but it no longer can be. I will have you in my mind and heart the moment I am struck down tomorrow, because I will fight with every breath in my body in the hopes I might get back to you so we can run away. Find a good life and chase it with all of your heart. If not for yourself, then do it for me.
I will make...

Alamo: To Betsy

Betsy, know with all of my heart I wanted nothing more than to give you what you want, what you need. I dared to take a rest from the income of patients only on the assurance that it would be my last, for the work would keep me up deep into the night. I should sleep, but I cannot, on this short break, this short reprieve, and so I asked for a sheet. I do not mean to alarm you, but it looks grim. The facts we face of rising challengers, so close to us, are not something I would wish on anyone, man, woman, or child.
I tend to the patients as best I can with such short supplies- mostly they like me to listen to them, to copy down letters to their wives and children and daughters, to their sons and mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters and even their nieces and nephews- any family they have...

Alamo: To Grace

Grace, take my papers and seal them for our generations to come, please. I beg you take my letter and bury it in the ground- it is all you will have to bury. I must fight, and if this is my last letter, I want you to know I am aware of the forcedness in our marriage- I know you did not truly love me when we married. I know the one you did love, Alvin, went off to war and did not return to you, but please, Grace, I did love you. I loved you, and though you could never love me the way I loved you, I know we were good friends. Our child, Max, and you, are who I give everything to my name, down to my garments. Grace, sweet Grace, do not marry out of habit again and do not feel guilt for not feeling something- feeling is not a thing we can control, it does...

Alamo: To Bonnie

Bonnie, you know of myy iliteracy, and I wonnt hide my nerve's help me not, but there was'nt a chance I coold leave this world without fisrt writing to you. Tommorow does not look to be on our side, and weeve bearly survived as it is. I will fight and give it all of my power to ggive the enemy hell. But I mmust tell you befeore I fight and tommorow arrives, that you are the most preceious thing in the world to me, and to everyone you meet. May love always stay with you, beuatiful Bonnie. If there was one word I caan spell, it is this:
Bonnie
And it is the best. I love you,

To, Bonnie Cart
From, Jimmy Cart

Alamo: To Selene

I love you, and I love the children- know I wish the best life offers for all of you, and that each of you warm my heart at the mere thought of your happiness and laughter. I fear tonight is my last night, for reasons that will soon be clear. Susan, Boris, and little Candace, your Father loves you with all of his heart, and to you Selene, I give everything too, as my one and only true lover in all the world.

To you, my dearest Selene Sigfrid
From, Manfred Sigfrid

Alamo: To Nina

We arrived here not that long ago, do you remember, Nina? No one really took to us. We were the odd ones out, but that was alright, would you like to know why? Because we had each other, because we loved each other, and because we both saw that. Now, I am to die defending people I barely now, for a cause I am not sure will survive. But I do it because of the men- I have made friends, too many to count here, many of them with Native American mothers or fathers. I do this for them, and for you- for believing me when I said I would make a difference in this world, or die trying. I apologize for the fact I never gave you any children- there was no greater gift besides that of God's guidance, and I failed.
Please be content in the knowing that I love you, and that I always shall even if...

Alamo: To Charlotte

I have never seen men more downcast. I know better than to lie to you, Charlotte, so I will ask of you to remain in good faith of our Lord God because I know He will not take me before I have fought my fight, and that He has let me lead a life of happiness with you and Beatrice, for the short time I got to know my daughter. You are, my love, the woman I have always searched for. Your poise, grace, and compassion are your best assets, and you must not lose them to things not worth mentioning in the face of such beauty- disgusting names like war, death, and carnage. I run out of time as I write this, and I want to try to rest so I can have another dream of you before I arise in the light of morning, but you must know how deeply my soul longs to be with yours, and...

Alamo: To Anastasia

Pray for me, my doll, so one day I might see you in the afterlife. Killing is not for the saints, and I need you to know that I do not face any tomorrow. They will charge at us and we will fight the fight everyone will remember for years, and I am proud to say I will partake. I do not accept death even when it nips at my heels, but the odds are not in our favor. It looks grim, and no man's face is that of a smile. Except mine; mine, for I am theat odd sort of clever fool that knows your love will save me from all harm. God watch over us. I never got to meet my child, and I wish you would name him Christopher for my brother- for truly it is sadder to watch him sit idly while I write this, and I am so thankful to have loved and feel the...

Alamo: To Claudia

Time is against us, as always. I never was a poet, and I do not intend to try now to become one. But, praise God, I did learn to mean three words from you. I love you.

To Miss Claudia Dallas
Yours, Lake Dallas
 

Alamo: To Elma

I wondered many times over if you will ever get this message. And what should I put in it? How do you say, goodbye, my wife, whom I will cherish forever and always, in a letter, in scribbled ink carried by what survivors there will be, if there are any? We all know death approaches, and I have no intention to run. There aren't many of us, as you know. And now in the frantic scratching all around me, I can't see the parchment more than I can see my own hand. Yet I keep writing, because there must be someway to tell you, to make you understand, the pain that I feel of the idea I will by this time tomorrow be dead and you shall be widowed with four children. Tell Jo to take my savings to get into West Point- he will make a good officer. Anne has my blessing, because I now see how selfish it is...

Alamo: To Flora

People are discouraged, My Heart, and I cannot blame them- the times are dire and everything is bleak. You are not even my wife, and I know to use your name would imply you belong to me- but you don't, though I wish you did. You are engaged to the brute- and I hope, Flora, you find the courage to go out in life and get what you want. Do not sit back, but chase what you want. I would have liked to believe, at one time, that was me- but it no longer can be. I will have you in my mind and heart the moment I am struck down tomorrow, because I will fight with every breath in my body in the hopes I might get back to you so we can run away. Find a good life and chase it with all of your heart. If not for yourself, then do it for me.
I will make...

Alamo: To Betsy

Betsy, know with all of my heart I wanted nothing more than to give you what you want, what you need. I dared to take a rest from the income of patients only on the assurance that it would be my last, for the work would keep me up deep into the night. I should sleep, but I cannot, on this short break, this short reprieve, and so I asked for a sheet. I do not mean to alarm you, but it looks grim. The facts we face of rising challengers, so close to us, are not something I would wish on anyone, man, woman, or child. I tend to the patients as best I can with such short supplies- mostly they like me to listen to them, to copy down letters to their wives and children and daughters, to their sons and mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters and even their nieces and nephews- any family they have...

Alamo: To Grace

Grace, take my papers and seal them for our generations to come, please. I beg you take my letter and bury it in the ground- it is all you will have to bury. I must fight, and if this is my last letter, I want you to know I am aware of the forcedness in our marriage- I know you did not truly love me when we married. I know the one you did love, Alvin, went off to war and did not return to you, but please, Grace, I did love you. I loved you, and though you could never love me the way I loved you, I know we were good friends. Our child, Max, and to you, I give everything to my name, down to my garments. Grace, sweet Grace, do not marry out of habit again and do not feel guilt for not feeling something- feeling is not a thing we can control, it does what...

Alamo: To Bonnie

Bonnie, you know of myy iliteracy, and I wonnt hide my nerve's help me not, but there was'nt a chance I coold leave this world without fisrt writing to you. Tommorow does not look to be on or side, and weeve bearly survived as it is. I will fight and give it all of my power to ggive the enemy hell. But I mmust tell you befeore I fight and tommorow arrives, that you are the most preceious thing in the world to me, and to everyone you meet. May love always stay with you, beuatiful Bonnie. If there was one word I caan spell, it is this:
Bonnie
And it is the best. I love you,

To, Bonnie Cart
From, Jimmy Cart

Alamo: To Betsy

Betsy, know with all of my heart I wanted nothing more than to give you what you want, what you need. I dared to take a rest from the income of patients only on the assurance that it would be my last, for the work would keep me up deep into the night. I should sleep, but I cannot, on this short break, this short reprieve, and so I asked for a sheet. I do not mean to alarm you, but it looks grim. The facts we face of rising challengers, so close to us, are not something I would wish on anyone, man, woman, or child. I tend top the patients as best I can with such short supplies- mostly they like me to listen to them, to copy down letters to their wives and children and daughters, to their sons and mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters and even their nieces and nephews- any family they have...

Alamo: To Selene

I love you, and I love the children- know I wish the best life offers for all of you, and that each of you warm my heart at the mere thought of your happiness and laughter. Susan, Boris, and little Candace, your Father loves you with all of his heart, and to you Selene, I give everything too, as my one and only true lover in all the world.

To you, my dearest Selene Sigfrid
From, Manfred Sigfrid

Alamo: To Nina

We arrived here not that long ago, do you remember, Nina? No one really took to us. We were the odd ones out, but that was alright, would you like to know why? Because we had each other, because we loved each other, and because we both saw that. Now, I am to die defending people I barely now, for a cause I am not sure will survive. But I do it because of the men- I have made friends, too many to count here, many of them with Native American mothers of fathers. I do this for them, and for you- for believing me when I said I would make a difference in this world, or die trying. I apologize for the fact I never gave you any children- there was no greater gift besides that of God's guidance, and I failed.
Please be content in the knowing that I love you, and that I always shall even if...

Alamo: To Charlotte

I have never seen men more downcast. I know better than to lie to you, Charlotte, so I will ask of you to remain in good faith of our Lord God because I know He will not take me before I have fought my fight, and that He has let me lead a life of happiness with you and Beatrice, for the short time I got to know my daughter. You are, my love, the woman I have always searched for. Your poise, grace, and compassion are your best assets, and you must not lose them to things not worth mentioning in the face of such beauty- disgusting names like war, death, and carnage. I run out of time as I write this, and I want to try to rest so I can have another dream of you before I arise in the light of morning, but you must know how deeply my soul longs to be with yours, and...

Alamo: To Anastasia

Pray for me, my doll, so one day I might see you in the afterlife. Killing is not for the saints, and I need you to know that I do not face any tomorrow. They will charge at us and we will fight the fight everyone will remember for years, and I am proud to say I will partake. I do not accept death even when it nips at my heels, but the odds are not in our favor. It looks grim, and no man's face is that of a smile. Except mine; mine, for I am the fool that knows your love will save me from all harm. God watch over us. I never got to meet my child, and I wish you would name him Christopher for my brother- for truly it is sadder to watch him sit idly while I write this, and I am so thankful to have loved and feel the pain of knowing what...

Alamo: To Claudia

Time is against us, as always. I never was a poet, and I do not intend to try now to become one. But, praise God, did I learn to mean three words from you. I love you.

To Miss Claudia Dallas
Yours, Lake Dallas
 

Alamo: To Elma

I wondered many times over if you will ever get this message. And what should I put in it? How do you say, goodbye, my wife, whom I will cherish forever and always, in a letter, in scribbled ink carried by what survivors there will be, if there are any? We all know death approaches, and I have no intention to run. There aren't many of us, as you know. And now in the frantic scratching all around me, I can't see the parchment more than I can see my own hand. Yet I keep writing, because there must be someway to tell you, to make you understand, the pain that I feel of the idea I will by this time tomorrow be dead and you shall be widowed with four children. Tell Jo to take my savings to get into West Point- he will make a good officer. Anne has my blessing, because I know see how selfish it is...

Subtotals

0 is the times this should have happened

0 is the times that this should have happened.
1 is the times that it did.
2 is the number of parents 
3 parties, Democratic, Republic, and Independent, are still blinded as to not see that sides, prejudice, and parties do not matter- we are all people
4 people in my house talk of it
5 roughly is the number of the days this was talked about
6 years will pass and votes might be casted. May the damage Trump does be undone.
7 is the number of countries joined together, may our allies know the conflict that this causes us
8 is the number of years the past president served, and the one before him as well- yet in two years America is changing so, so much.
9 out of 10 people must realize how evil separating families are.
10 or more is the number of children in a cage, and still it goes on as we speak.

Hard...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near me, beeping closer to 12:00 with every passing second. I knew my parents needed to be getting into bed soon too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin. Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to join him. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale one. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but if you do, just get through until...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near me, beeping closer to 12:00 with every passing second. I knew my parents needed to be getting into bed soon too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin. Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to, too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale one. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but if you do, just get through until 12:00...

Do I Really Need to Say This?

Do we all know that children are being ripped from their parents? Are we ignoring the fact that it is our men playing the part of monster, that children are being held away from their parents?

Do I need to write an impassioned speech  to make you understand the evil of this, the way that American soldiers have tricked people searching for a new, better life here into taking their children, hundreds, maybe thousands, to places alone where they are kept away from awaiting parents. 
Do I need to do that? Do I need to explain how evil it is, how evil people are being for... their own jobs? They would tread on the backs of hundreds just to save their one and try to justify this, try to somehow make this better. Do I need to say this and explain the horror it causes me to feel, how terrified I am not only that this is hapening, but that...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near my, every second making it beep closer to 12:00. I knew my parents needed to be getting into bed soon too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin. Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale one. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but if you do, just get through until 12:00...

Five Beginnings

Beginnings

For different novels:
Like a whisper, like a shadow, like all friends who were ever present yet not always noticed, he clasped a hand on my shoulder and I turned to him, finally.

Custard never tastes as good as it does when it's been tossed down a flight of stairs, caught by a passing eleven year old boy with his dog, and then carried to a pumpkin patch where an eleven-year-old's uncle lived and eaten on a huge orange vegetable.

He grabbed my hands with his and, in a whisper, said, "Don't read them now- read them when your sad, so I may say I made you smile."

The man walked briskly up the church steps and for the first time in a long time, had no one with him.

People, like specks of fallen dust, were either found alone or clumped up like dust bunnies in the small town of Norosborrow.

For the same novel:

People come and go,...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near my bedside and beeped closer to 12:00 a.m. with every second that passed. I knew they'd need to be getting into bed soon, too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin. Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale one. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but if you do,...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near my bedside and beeped closer to 12:00 a.m. with every second that passed. I knew they'd need to be getting into bed soon, too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin. Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale one. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but if you do,...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near my bedside and beeped closer to 12:00 a.m. with every second that passed. I knew they'd need to be getting into bed soon, too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin, Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her blue eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale hand in hers. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Switching

"Are you ready?" Mom asked me. I nodded from my cot, sticky and uncomfortable as I always was when June 18th rolled around. The digital clock sat near my bedside and beeped closer to 12:00 a.m. with every second that passed. I knew they'd need to be getting into bed soon, too, with luck it would only be someone else in the town. Brendan already lay downstairs, ready for his first time to begin, Dad comforting him, and it was clear Mom wanted to too. Forcing myself to smile, I pointed at the door. "Go on, Brendan needs you more than I do."
    "But you still need me," Mom said gently, her blue eyes full of worry for the day to come. Her freckled hand reached out and clasped my pale hand in hers. "Be careful, Lani, remember this is only for a day and everyone goes through this. Heaven forbid you end up outside of the town, but...

Place Poem

Here Is A Place

Here is a place
A place where people are seen as people
Not a dog on the street
Based on their appearance
And their color

Here is a place
Where children look at one another, and there is no difference
Where prejudice has died long ago
Yet not long enough to let the wiser people forget
It was ever there, as a lesson, as a painful memory

Here is a place
Where intelligence and athleticism
Is not valued as much as a good heart, mind, and soul is valued
And people, instead of looking down
Look up instead

Here is a place
Right here, beliefs do not fall in line
But they do not need too
As we embrace that here and come together despite our falling outs
Instead of tarnishing others

Do we know this place?
Have we been here before?
A shining gleam, a glimmer
We all know it is there
But instead of being there, why can...

Place Poem

Here Is A Place

Here is a place
A place where people are seen as people
Not a dog on the street
Based on their appearance
And their color

Here is a place
Where children look at one another, and there is no difference
Where prejudice has died long ago
Yet not long enough to let the wiser people forget
It was ever there, as a lesson, as a painful memory

Here is a place
Where intelligence and athleticism
Is not valued as much as a good heart, mind, and soul is valued
And people, instead of looking down
Look up instead

Here is a place
Right here, beliefs do not fall in line
But they do not need too
As we embrace that here and come together despite our falling outs
Instead of tarnishing others

Do we know this place?
Have we been here before?
A shining gleam, a glimmer
We all know it is there
But instead of being there, why can...

Excerpt

"It's a key," Edgar whispered hoarsely, watching the old man's cruel face twist into a gruesome smile, his dark eyes now sideways slits like strung beads. He grasped the golden knoll of wire in his hand, the imprint curving into his hand. His glass-like blue eyes stared disbelievingly into the man's grisly features contorted to portray his joy. "It's been a key all this time."
"Quite right, son quite right. Finally those brains come into the picture. But unfortunately, a little too late," he jeered, raising the pistol, looking truly like a monster born from nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" Edgar said, regaining his voice and licking his lips, swallowing so his mouth would not be as dry. It was a drop of water in the Sahara desert, really. Rutuger smiled even wider, like a slit etched into tree bark. "Yes."
"What about the key?" Edgar said, now speaking fast, knowing he was running out of time. Slowly,...

Excerpt

"It's a key," Edgar whispered hoarsely, watching the old man's cruel face twist into a gruesome smile, his dark eyes now sideways slits like strung beads. He grasped the golden knoll of wire in his hand, the imprint curving into his hand. His glass-like blue eyes stared disbelievingly into the man's grisly features contorted to portray his joy. "It's been a key all this time."
"Quite right, son quite right. Finally those brains come into the picture. But unfortunately, a little too late," he jeered, raising the pistol, looking truly like a monster born from nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" Edgar said, regaining his voice and licking his lips, swallowing so his mouth would not be as dry. It was a drop of water in the Sahara desert, really. Rutuger smiled even wider, like a slit etched into tree bark. "Yes."
"What about the key?" Edgar said, now speaking fast, knowing he was running out of time. Slowly,...

Excerpt

"It's a key," Edgar whispered hoarsely, watching the old man's cruel face twist into a gruesome smile, his dark eyes now sideways slits like strung beads. He grasped the golden knoll of wire in his hand, the imprint curving into his hand. His glass-like blue eyes stared disbelievingly into the man's grisly features contorted to portray his joy. "It's been a key all this time."
"Quite right, son quite right. Finally those brains come into the picture. But unfortunately, a little too late," he jeered, raising the pistol, looking truly like a monster born from nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" Edgar said, regaining his voice and licking his lips, swallowing so his mouth would not be as dry. It was a drop of water in the Sahara desert, really. Rutuger smiled even wider, like a slit etched into tree bark. "Yes."
"What about the key?" Edgar said, now speaking fast, knowing he was running out of time. Slowly,...

Excerpt

"It's a key," Edgar whispered hoarsely, watching the old man's cruel face twist into a gruesome smile, his dark eyes now sideways slits like strung beads. He grasped the golden knoll of wire in his hand, the imprint curving into his hand. His glass-like blue eyes stared disbelievingly into the man's grisly features contorted to portray his joy. "It's been a key all this time."
"Quite right, son quite right. Finally those brains come into the picture. But unfortunately, a little too late," he jeered, raising the pistol, looking truly like a monster born from nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" Edgar said, regaining his voice and licking his lips, swallowing so his mouth would not be as dry. It was a drop of water in the Sahara desert, really. Rutuger smiled even wider, like a slit etched into tree bark. "Yes."
"What about the key?" Edgar said, now speaking fast, knowing he was running out of time. Slowly,...

Excerpt

"It's a key," Edgar whispered hoarsely, watching the old man's cruel face twist into a gruesome smile, his dark eyes now sideways slits like strung beads. He grasped the golden knoll of wire in his hand, the imprint curving into his hand. His glass-like blue eyes stared disbelievingly into the man's grisly features contorted to portray his joy. "It's been a key all this time."
"Quite right, son quite right. Finally those brains come into the picture. But unfortunately, a little too late," he jeered, raising the pistol, looking truly like a monster born from nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" Edgar said, regaining his voice and licking his lips, swallowing so his mouth would not be as dry. It was a drop of water in the Sahara desert, really. Rutuger smiled even wider, like a slit etched into tree bark. "Yes."
"What about the key?" Edgar said, now speaking fast, knowing he was running out of time. Slowly,...

The Limerick

My Limerick

You see, this one fellow wrote a ditty
Sang loud and proud, but it wasn't pretty
The chap's name was Absur
And so townspeople concur
The word to describe it - Absur-ditty!


 

Child Narrator

Jedidiah Smith the Trailblazer

It was a sunny day, nice outside with no breeze but enough lush greenery and grass popping up on the dirty road that it made it seem bearable. It was nice, especially when coming out of the hot school building where children got unreasonably mad about things. Lou usually enjoyed it, but not with what Sanders was doing. It was silly of him to be angry, Lou knew as she marched back across the school building to find her green bike. She hadn't done anything really- so what if she had laughed while there was gum stuck in his hair? Maybe he needed the gum in his hair, suited him right for pulling her pigtails all of the time. Fuming, Lou marched right past the frog until it leapt put of her with a prolonged croak, where she screamed.
The frog looked like a fat belch of green smoke and it's eyes stared like black beetles. Lou took a breath...

Child Narrator

Jedidiah Smith the Trailblazer

It was a sunny day, nice outside with no breeze but enough lush greenery and grass popping up on the dirty road that it made it seem bearable. It was nice, especially when coming out of the hot school building where children got unreasonably mad about things. Lou usually enjoyed it, but not with what Sanders was doing. It was silly of him to be angry, Lou knew as she marched back across the school building to find her green bike. She hadn't done anything really- so what if she had laughed while there was gum stuck in his hair? Maybe he needed the gum in his hair, suited him right for pulling her pigtails all of the time. Fuming, Lou marched right past the frog until it leapt put of her with a prolonged croak, where she screamed.
The frog looked like a fat belch of green smoke and it's eyes stared like black beetles. Lou took a breath...

No Pause for Breath

Stain

It's like I knew something would happen
the sword is sharpened on the whetstone
I heard and watched and tasted the cool metal against the hard grainy stonework
but it hadn't worried me, and I simply watched dumbly
in mute awe and bravery, thinking of how beautiful that sword was
how is shines so bright against the whetstone
and then it was pulled into action, hovering in air, striking at me while I stay rooted, transfixed, prepared yet unprepared at the same time until it cuts into my skin and suddenly I am
reeling back without falling, the solid ground beneath me that I'd felt so long, for all of time
gone in the strike of a sword, that left me bleeding
and yet there was not a stain on my clothes.






 

No Pause for Breath

Stain

There they are, they're all pressing in
I'm in a room and the windows have translucent curtains
They shouldn't be looking in-
Can't they see I closed the windows for a reason?
But even through the curtains and dirty windows
With smudges and dust they peer in
And see me, but they can't really see me
They crowd around to get a peek but
They have to know that can't represent me
A fleeting glimsp, no, no-
Watch! I am opening the curtains now
The windows are open
Is anyone still there, however, to see it?






 

No Pause for Breath

Stain

Young love is
A dalliance of
Mix-matched, confusing emotions
No one truly
Understands this at
All, it is
An experiment that
Few manage to
Get right at
All- are we
One of those
Precious, precious few?







 

25 Words

In a Golden State of Mind

Florida was the Golden State for a reason, Calvin knew. Smiling, he strode confidently to the tanned group of teenagers playing beach frisbee. "Show time."

Hope You Have

The man stood before him, his clothes that had once been passed down and patched now clean and pressed, shabby to showy, and the muck once encrusted in his hair by the constant shoves that pushed him into mud, that was all gone and replaced by a shining shade of russet hair combed perfectly. The changed man stared, his green eyes flecked with blue assessing as they always had before the one who stared him up and down, the man who had not changed at all staring unbelieving what he was seeing in front of him, or perhaps unwilling to see it. "Cormac," the russet-haired one spoke aloud.
"Travis," he answered. Cormac had his white tux on, his black silk tie gleaming in the chandelier light. The party music went around them like a ripple, yet they, instead of in the pond with the others, were trapped on a stony outcrop jutting out just enough for two. People moved and Travis saw Alexis moving over...

Smooth Sailing/In the Air

I sat on the airplane, night settled completely over all of the passengers. It was a nice flight in all, and of course I wasn't in First Class, but still there was nice treatment. I lightly held my Diet Dr. Pepper in my blue 'TravelAirlines' cup, looking out onto the lit up aisle where  many slept, read, whispered, or stared off in boredom. I was near the back, about two rows behind me while the rest of them went on, even though it was a relatively small plane. The small, square windows dotted each window seat, three in a row. On the side of me, in the middle, sat an overweight Asian man in a green turtleneck, his neck pillow supporting his relaxed head as he lay asleep, and on the side of him nearest to the window was a teenage girl with braces, a lime green T-shirt reading something about a fundraiser, and twin braids of her long brown-honey...

Tell Me...

Tell me I won't make it.
Tell me I'll waste away.
Tell me this is always where I'll sit.
Tell me in my future there is only gray.

I'll tell you I will make it.
I'll tell you I'm here to stay.
I'll tell you I'll go wherever I see fit.
I'll tell you don't let me see the ball if you don't expect me to play.

Don't give me sticks and tell me not to start a fire.
Don't show me a fist and expect my hand not to curl.
Don't be upset when your ousted as a liar.
Don't be shocked when you watch my defiance unfurl.

Every minute you use, I'm climbing higher.
Every time you see an oyster, I see a pearl.
Every moment you scoff, still up goes my desire.
Every second you spin, I whirl.

 

Everyday

I push against the weight
Of the knowledge I know
Would it be better
To be in bliss and not know?

To not feel with every scraping day
The end drawing near
To something I perfectly dread
With every second become much clearer

I knew this day would one day come
But then it seemed so far
I just want to ignore it again
And pretend I'm far away from college or a car

Rip a Band-Aid off my skin
Then do it a million times
Still I fear this will hurt worse, and I shall not win
Once a Quarter, one fourth of my friends, now a dime

Never will I forget that pair of pale blue braces
Or that shoulder-length dark hair
The humor and reason and love and laughter within
That attitude of 'I-just-don't-care'.

I don't fit in well at all
This is certain to be true
But at least I felt alive
When I were with...

Unearthed

I look around, the sweat literally running down my temple like a slick waterslide. My hair was slick and the bridge of my nose where my glasses rested was slippery, too, and everything was unbearably hot and uncontrollable, blood boiling underneath my bones like a firestorm of anger and regret and passion, magma waiting to seep through the pen onto the page. I took a deep breath. I couldn't write that. I couldn't right that. And then, with Shakespeare's head nodding, with Hamilton's determination in my bones, with Lewis a hand on my shoulder, and countless others urging me on and guiding my hand, I began to write what I had shoved so deep inside me and buried under gravel and dirt down, all of it escaping in a movement of my small wrist.

Or at Least, That's What it Feels Like.

Broken bones and dusty jeans
Sharp hard gasps and screams
Teenagers laughing and words mean
In cliques as if soccer teams

Or at least, that's what it feels like.

My broken bones have strained under the pressure of words
And my jeans are dirty and muddy from sitting in the grass
I gasp out in horror and oh, how badly I want to scream back their words
I want them to feel the cut of others' already broken glass

Or at least, that's what it feels like.

It doesn't happen always in the open
Probably over text, or call, or through other minions
And then that glass figurine won't let other people in.
The words of broken bones and bruises hold their arms and pinion

Or at least, that's what it feels like.

The glass figurine either becomes stone
Or shatters into millions of confused and confusing pieces
I have yet to see someone have instead sharpened bones
And make sure...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Yvonne

Yvonne
Expressing life and death and all between
Her heart-shaped face
A pale white sheen
Like snow, or long frilled lace

Yvonne
On a sunshine morning
There are diamonds in her skin
That bounce from window adorning
Her figure like tossed linen.

Yvonne
Her hands cupped to hold the moon
And sun, fingers reaching through the speed of space
Her feet navigate an endless tune
As she walks over a so-familiar place.

Yvonne
Stretching, tin glints in her hair
A nightgown on and socks inside out
Squinting in the morning's glare
And dirty hair in endless fallout

Yvonne
She takes a walk before even dress
A pattern of turquoise buds along the stones
It is small and anyone's guess
Why she does it all alone

Yvonne
Yet one night she took a fool
They couldn't see but for the light of moon
A bubbling fount and bench and toadstool
Bathed in sunlight from a long afternoon

Yvonne
The beating of wings...

Hope You Have

The man stood before him, his clothes that had once been passed down and patched now clean and pressed, shabby to showy, and the muck once encrusted in his hair by the constant shoves that pushed him into mud, that was all gone and replaced by a shining shade of russet hair combed perfectly. The changed man stared, his green eyes flecked with blue assessing as they always had before the one who stared him up and down, the man who had not changed at all staring unbelieving what he was seeing in front of him, or perhaps unwilling to see it. "Cormac," the russet-haired one spoke aloud.
"Travis," he answered. Cormac had his white tux on, his black silk tie gleaming in the chandelier light. The party music went around them like a ripple, yet they, instead of in the pond with the others, were trapped on a stony outcrop jutting out just enough for two. People moved and Travis saw Alexis moving over...

25 Words

In a Golden State of Mind

He was gifted at what he did- and greedily kept ideas to himself and acted superior. But another was willing to learn - he succeeded.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Yvonne

Yvonne
Expressing life and death and all between
Her heart-shaped face
A pale white sheen
Like snow, or long frilled lace

Yvonne
On a sunshine morning
There are diamonds in her skin
That bounce from window adorning
Her figure like tossed linen.

Yvonne
Her hands cupped to hold the moon
And sun, fingers reaching through the speed of space
Her feet navigate an endless tune
As she walks over a so-familiar place.

Yvonne
Stretching, tin glints in her hair
A nightgown on and socks inside out
Squinting in the morning's glare
And dirty hair in endless fallout

Yvonne
She takes a walk before even dress
A pattern of turquoise buds along the stones
It is small and anyone's guess
Why she does it all alone

Yvonne
Yet one night she took a fool
They couldn't see but for the light of moon
A bubbling fount and bench and toadstool
Bathed in sunlight from a long afternoon

Yvonne
The beating of wings...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Yvonne

Yvonne
Expressing life and death and all between
Her heart-shaped face
A pale white sheen
Like snow, or long frilled lace

Yvonne
On a sunshine morning
There are diamonds in her skin
That bounce from window adorning
Her figure like tossed linen.

Yvonne
Stretching, tin glints in her hair
A nightgown on and socks inside out
Squinting in the morning's glare
And dirty hair in endless fallout

Yvonne
She takes a walk before even dress
A pattern of turquoise buds along the stones
It is small and anyone's guess
Why she does it all alone

Yvonne
Yet one night she took a fool
They couldn't see but for the light of moon
A bubbling fount and bench and toadstool
Bathed in sunlight from a long afternoon

Yvonne
The beating of wings quietened there
As the animals settled into rest
And she turned to the fool with solemn air
The fool bowed at her behest.

Yvonne
The fool was a fool indeed ...

Monostich

Shove

You can shove in as many things as you want dear, but you will still find it empty.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Yvonne

Expressing life and death and all between
Her heart-shaped face
A pale white sheen
Like snow, or long frilled lace

On a sunshine morning
There are diamonds in her skin
That bounce from window adorning
Her figure like tossed linen.

Stretching, tin glints in her hair
A nightgown on and socks inside out
Squinting in the morning's glare
And dirty hair in endless fallout

She takes a walk before even dress
A pattern of turquoise buds along the stones
It is small and anyone's guess
Why she does it all alone

Yet one night she took a fool
They couldn't see but for the light of moon
A bubbling fount and bench and toadstool
Bathed in sunlight from a long afternoon

The beating of wings quietened there
As the animals settled into rest
And she turned to the fool with solemn air
The fool bowed at her behest.

The fool was a fool indeed
To think she might actually fall in...

Unearthed

I look around, the sweat literally running down my temple like a slick waterslide. My hair was slick and the bridge of my nose where my glasses rested was slippery, too, and everything was unbearably hot and uncontrollable, blood boiling underneath my bones like a firestorm of anger and regret and passion, magma waiting to seep through the pen onto the page. I took a deep breath. I couldn't write that. I couldn't right that. And then, with Shakespeare's head nodding, with Hamilton's determination in my bones, with Lewis a hand on my shoulder, and countless others urging my on and guiding my hand, I began to write what I had shoved so deep inside me and buried under gravel and dirt down, all of it escaping in a movement of my small wrist.

Baby Feet

She laughed, a baby laugh no one else can mimic but enjoy, a moment of pure innocence, treasured forever. He blew on her feet, a muffled sound that had his salvia all over her small wrinkling toes, but that only tickled her more. She laughed, her small pink tongue curled in her mouth like a bounce board, the thin wisps of hair sitting messily on her head, and her small diaper swaddled around tiny energetic legs. And he stared at her, smiling contentedly, for this was all he ever wanted. This was the best moment of his life, toppling all others he held near and dear. Her laughter was what he had been searching for in the dark without knowing exactly what he was reaching out for. And in her, in the tiny clean feet he had in his hands, he had found it.

Or

Baby Feet
A wrinkled wonder
Of the world

Baby Feet
With the Earth under
Their...

Baby Feet

She laughed, a baby laugh no one else can mimic but enjoy, a moment of pure innocence, treasured forever. He blew on her feet, a muffled sound that had his salvia all over her small wrinkling toes, but that only tickled her more. She laughed, her small pink tongue curled in her mouth like a bounce board, the thin wisps of hair sitting messily on her head, and her small diaper swaddled around tiny energetic legs. And he stared at her, smiling contentedly, for this was all he ever wanted. This was the best moment of his life, toppling all others he held near and dear. Her laughter was what he had been searching for in the dark without knowing exactly what he was reaching out for. And in her, in the tiny clean feet he had in his hands, he had found it.

Yep

Yep.
That's me.
The one who breaks into song every ten minutes.

.

The best thing you could have is a story
And the second best thing
Is having the one you love tell it.

Acrostic Verse

Legacy

There it is
An untouched page
Worn by wisdom
Old with age

And here I appear
With pen in hand
Holding steadily
The pen at command

And touching down
To forever mark
The page with
A legacy stark


 

Walking

I Will Be There

I will be there.
I turn and look at her, with her green eyes wet with sadness, her hair combed up away by shaking hands and I want so badly to reach out and take her shoulder in my grasp, to let her now she is not alone in her grief. I want to hold her sorrows as my own if that would only make her smile.
I want to say, I will be there.
I turn then to her, with blue eyes, her smile so flawed but flawed only with her perfection- there is so much of it. I want to say to her, she is perfect, she is beautiful, she is even more than that- she is all of what I could wish to have, and that is perfection. I want to make that smile real, smiling because you are happy.
I want to say, I will be there.
And then I look ahead and see her, her...

The Unknown

I Don't Know

Tell me, would you read a story about darkness at the end if to experience the light and adventure in the middle. If you were to know that at the end of the tunnel was a dead-end, that the sprinter would never stop in time to avoid head-on collision, would you still join the ride for the wonders to experience on the way to doom? And then, even after that, would you be there to get up after that crash and to help that story back through the places it had been that once held so much joy and love and pass through it without the element causing so much happiness?
And would you do this if you knew of the small chance of instead of there being a tunnel, there was a one to a million chance of running and colliding with nothing at all?
I don't know. I cannot even begin to imagine how hard this journey would...

Message

This, look around, is not guaranteed
And if you know this, Godspeed
Yet you must remember that death happens every day
And they did not choose this, they had no say

God is the only one who knows our plan
You must tell this to your son, and the sons of that man
And right now, in your life, would you be satisfied
Let me answer- no, and that must have been what they thought when they died.

I do not profess to live everyday like this
But to take every chance, hit or miss,
That way we can never regret
And maybe- just maybe- we will heed this message yet.

Finally, Finally!

I swung my knapsack around my small shoulders.
There were just a few more things left.
And then my sister ran into my room.
"Are you insane?" she asked me, quite rudely.
I considered the question and replied, "Yes, quite."
"You better drop that bag right now, brat."
"It appears, dear sister, I am running away."
At this she narrowed her eyes and glared.
"You can't just get up and run away!"
"And why not?" I asked her with defiance.
"Well- because- because it's unnatural!" she spluttered out.
"Well is being insane all that natural then?"
"I..." she faltered and then said, "Certainly not."
"Then I suppose I am unnatural and leaving."
"Well how long will you be going away?"
I smiled crookedly and decided to tease her.
"For years upon years, until we're both old."
"Old as what? Old as having gray hair?"
"Old as having white hair!" I retorted grinning.
"Well you'll come right back- you can't survive!" ...

Goodbye

Goodbye, you say,
But you never really get to say it
When you need too
Or rather
You never really can
For hope it is just a phrase

OK

I walked outside, needing a breath of fresh air, anything to clear this block in my throat. We'd gotten into a fight- something stupid, an argument that just grew so out of hand I couldn't handle it. And since Min obviously could, I looked like the weak one, needing air. Was I weak? I sighed and looked up at the glowing Olive Garden sign in the dimming sky, cars pulling into the parking lot. I stood aside on the corner, not wanting to block the glass door. A van turned on their blinker and entered the lot from the long stretch of asphalt, a McDonalds M half-lit on the other side of the street and a Sams a bit further down with a full lot of hatchbacks and sedans loading their trunks with groceries. I tucked my jacket tighter around myself and waited for my heart to slow to normal, knowing I should return to the table yet unwilling to face...

A Memory He Never Had

He smiled brightly, his face infused with a certain unattainable joy he'd never had before. There they were, hand in hand- they ran forward, arms outstretched to reach their darling son. His mother's hair was brown, swept around her shoulder, her red scarf pulled warmly against herself and the red fibers sticking to the white undershirt, her face full of pure admiration and adoration. His father's hair was short, crisp, presentable, and proud green eyes looked at him approvingly- as if that this moment was all he could ever hope for. And there he stood, his face open, slack from the guarded expression he always pulled up. He opened his arms, pride, happiness, relief, all of it sweeping over him at once, his eyes finally free. Free of worry, cares, heartache, pain, loss. He was free, wide green eyes that mirrored his father's and mother's, and they crossed the small gap of night air. He, smiling wide, collapsed between the...

A Memory He Never Had

He smiled brightly, his face infused with a certain unattainable joy he'd never had before. There they were, hand in hand- they ran forward, arms outstretched to reach their darling son. His mother's hair was brown, swept around her shoulder, her red scarf pulled warmly against herself and the red fibers sticking to the white undershirt, her face full of pure admiration and adoration. His father's hair was short, crisp, presentable, and proud green eyes looked at him approvingly- as if that this moment was all he could ever hope for. And there he stood, his face open, slack from the guarded expression he always pulled up. He opened his arms, pride, happiness, relief, all of it sweeping over him at once, his eyes finally free. Free of worry, cares, heartache, pain, loss. He was free, wide green eyes that mirrored his father's and mother's, and they crossed the small gap of night air. He, smiling wide, collapsed between the...

Chapter Three: You Will Not Like Stephanie Terslo When She is Angry at You- But Other People...

 I followed Kronski to his the office, which was like a place where wounded animals go to curl up and die. The elderly women who work there are always nice and are sure to offer me a peppermint as I pass, and it sucks to see their working conditions. There is literally mold growing on the inside of cabinets and a coffee machine that works one half of the time and spits on the user the rest of the time.
Kronski's office was a bit small, a single pouch leather chair sitting behind his desk while pictures of family who all looked very grim hung on the walls. A fan was constantly blowing air and there was a bare bookshelf in front of the window because Kronski was so paranoid. Kronski sat down and then pulled out his phone and began dialing. My heart sank- already? "Paperboy and a month's worth of grounding," I spat out bitterly. Kronski silenced me...

Can You...

Can you just leave?
I thought I was over you, I thought I was fine, I thought everything was back the way it was. And then, just like that- just like that, it's back. Can you control this? Do you control this, willingly? Am I so obvious it's painful to watch, am I so hilarious to tease you leave hints?
Why can't I be over you? Why can't I be over you? Perhaps if I say it so much then it will happen. But there it is- that smallest flicker that doesn't want you to go away, that wants you to keep leaving the baseless clues leading to no solution. I have come to not detest you- never would I detest you, never can I hate you, and neither can I love you- oh but part of me does, love not to be determined, but love nonetheless.
I stood there, knowing whoever came behind me could not startle me because I...

Thank You

Thank you for ripping me away from a world of wonders
For subjecting me to a power of which no human controls
For making me a part of your own blunders
Unwillingly I was the ends to meet your goals

Thank you for allowing me to personally view the point of no return
For dragging me as I fought you tooth and nail
Did you care how the emotions started to churn?
How I snapped at you and now avoid you with without fail?

Thank you for your awfulness that only you got to choose
For letting me gaze through a clouded window no longer
For showing me you are not someone I could ever confuse
Thank you for at least making me stronger.

Thank you for all of this
You know who you are, and I do too
Even if you are an idiotic, unthinking priss
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

 

Friendship Tweet

Define Definition

Friends are the ones who love you in all that you are. It is often overlooked, forgotten, and pushed aside when compared to others. But friendship is something no one truly understands how people, are somehow willing to give blood, sweat, and tears for the other.

But forget the prompt- friends are the glue of your life, the ones who you can lean on. The ones who care, even if they don't show it or if they do openly. Friends are the ones who love you when your angry, upset, happy, carefree. The ones that even if you aren't related to them, even if you hadn't grown up with them, even if they weren't forced to, would give blood, sweat, and tears for you, and you would in return. It's a person you love, and they love you, in a connection unknown to man. And this is not the definition of Friendship- friendship is when someone is holding the door...

22

George Washington-  happy birthday.

Chapter One: Well, My Name Is Billy and I Am Regretting Some Life Choices Right Now

    So Ears, huh? Nice to have, and I guess my mother wanted a second pair because she had a grip like iron, tugging me to my room. "Charles!" she shrieked shrilly, calling for my father.
    My father was a tall, big man with a fists that he loved to hammer on the coffee table when he was rowdy. Quite contrasting to my mother, who had slender fingers that could pick locks. I'd inherited hers, which was dead useful, cause I was all about picking locks. "Charles, your son has been to the Hartheer's shed!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.
   "Billy!" he rumbled.
    Yeah, I know, but it's Billy, and I was kinda proud of my name. Reminded me of Billy the Kid. My father lumbered into view as I entered my room, which was full of vases that my great aunt insisted on giving me. My father sat on my red bed wearing a classic Charles flannel shirt. "Billy!"...

My Day Sucks: What Else is New?

I tried to convince my Dad otherwise all through the night until he finally told me to go to my room. Was I excited? Wasn't I simply overjoyed at being a part of a team and pulling off some crappy newspaper every week for elderly people? Ahh... no, if I'm frankly honest. I didn't want to join the stupid paper and I did NOT want Logan to look too closely at the paper and I didn't want to have to work with people who's still trying to dig up what's under this town after twenty years. Not cool.
I tried to ignore the feeling of dread in my chest when I thought about it and ate up my burnt toast without complaint. "Don't miss the bus, Billy," Mom says distractedly as she likes some things on Facebook.
"Don't over exert yourself, Mom," I muttered, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and smoothing down some untidy brown hair that stuck up...

It's alright

It's alright.
Those words are supposed to comfort you? Those are the words someone is suppose to use for a situation like this, for you to remember days and months and years after this, to hold onto so you can go forward with no qualms about this? Just those two words were enough to comfort me, they thought? It's alright? It's alright? Does that mean it already is alright, or is it all right, justified because of my immaturity and young recklessness? Could they think of nothing else, not even my name, just to let me known that they knew me, that they cared about me, that I wasn't another nameless face.
Yet they said those words as if they were the simplest solution I could have, their eyes boing into mine as if they knew every inch of what I had done and what I hadn't, and knew exactly what was going to happen to me. I didn't ask...

1801

"Here we are! The election of 1800!" James declared, ready for the polls to come to a close. We all waited while they were counted for the twenty third day, nearly a month before all of the votes had arrived, hoping the last vote would be announced and the winner would be revealed. My temporary house was a perfect waiting area, full of my favorite things- books, comfortable chairs, drawing rooms, and a place where the name President Burr was forbidden. How he had sneaked into the election still eluded me- thank goodness for James, who'd caught it just in time for me to spread my campaign wider and larger scale. I didn't hate Burr- after all, he had gotten rid of one of Hamilton's prime supporters when becoming the Senator of New York. And yet he was elusive. You couldn't pin down his next move, he was untraceable, and certainly this new type of campaign he led had boosted his popularity. ...

1801

"Here we are! The election of 1800!" James declared, ready for the polls to come to a close. We all waited while they were counted for the twenty third day, nearly a month before all of the votes had arrived, hoping the last vote would be announced and the winner would be revealed. My temporary house was a perfect waiting area, full of my favorite things- books, comfortable chairs, drawing rooms, and a place where the name President Burr was forbidden. How he had snuck into the election still eluded me- thank goodness for James, who'd caught it just in time for me to spread my campaign wider and larger on scale. I didn't hate Burr- he, after all, had gotten rid of one of Hamilton's prime supporters when becoming the Senator of New York, and yet he was elusive. You couldn't pin down his next move, he was untraceable, and certainly this new type of campaign he led had boosted...

1801

"Here we are! The election of 1800!" James declared, ready for the polls to come to a close. We all waited while they were counted for the twenty third day, nearly a month before all of the votes had arrived, hoping the last vote would be announced and the winner would be revealed. My temporary house was a perfect waiting area, full of my favorite things- books, comfortable chairs, drawing rooms, and a place where the name President Burr was forbidden. How he had snuck into the election still eluded me- thank goodness for James, who'd caught it just in time for me to spread my campaign wider and larger on scale. I didn't hate Burr- he, after all, had gotten rid of one of Hamilton's prime supporters when becoming the Senator of New York, and yet he was elusive. You couldn't pin down his next move, he was untraceable, and certainly this new type of campaign he led had boosted...

REAL

She was singing, and you could tell it was real.
She sang raggedly, almost like she was out of breath, her song not polished but purely from her, her lungs rough and in pain.
She sang and gripped the microphone, desperate for this song to come out of her, to make a sound, to let them know it was there and it was real.
And how real it was.
She was singing and you could tell it was real.
From the heart broken in her eyes, you could tell it was real.

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

Saints

"Come on," Peter called behind him to Joseph, his eyes alight and bright in the night. Their costumes weren't the most elaborate but they weren't easy to make. The potato sack was a thick cloth material but useful, because it would be brown and rough like the hide of a monster. He smiled at his friend, his mask in his hands with huge paper-mache horns and big eye holes with a wide red mouth. "Let's go!"
Joseph looked at their costumes and then nodded, walking into the field, only the two of them ready to put a plan crafted so long ago into action. There were no people to stop them, no complications, nothing but the two of them, best friends, ready to have fun. He shook the doubt off from earlier and stepped forward with Peter so that they overlooked the small town of huts and a few brick buildings like the town hall and the school.
Peter smirked...

Unfair (a scene)

"Alright, you sloth-like saps, we're going to do three laps around the gym and then run until your lungs crumple up and die! I aint your Mama or MeeMee or Mammie and I aint gonna treat you like a baby!"
As Coach went on with his oh-so-inspiring speech, I looked over at Luther.
I don't like running. I don't like anything remotely comparable to running. If I'm unhealthy, that's my life decision. I wasn't overweight, I suppose, but I definitely didn't like the skin tight uniform of short shorts and yellow T-shirts in gym class. Luther, on the other hand, sucks it all up. He could run non stop, I'd bet a five, until the end of gym class, his stamina superhuman. He was not a muscle head, but he had those too, and somehow he managed not to be smug about it. I wasn't sure if that made him better or worse- no one could be that purely good....

Reality



I can only imagine slinging my backpack over my shoulder when a popping noise comes through the midst, and I can only think of the horror- the utter horror- that fills your body, trapping you in place is simply shock and disbelief. Yes, you've heard of this, yes, you've trained for this, but this was never supposed to happen to you. Why this school? Why this end of the school? Why was this sound even a part of reality?
It shouldn't be. But it is, and it is happening, and a demon has risen to take control of a place where children dwell.
Valentines Day, 2018, and Ash Wednesday. To love one another and repent for your sins. And this is a sin we must all suffer because one person could not do this. I don't pretend to know people, how they work, why they do what they do. But I do know people. I know my people in my life, and...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

Saints

"Come on," Peter called behind him to Joseph, his eyes alight and bright in the night. Their costumes weren't the most elaborate but they weren't easy to make. The potato sack was a thick cloth material but useful, because it would be brown and rough like the hide of a monster. He smiled at his friend, his mask in his hands with huge paper-mache horns and big eye holes with a wide red mouth. "Let's go!"
Joseph looked at their costumes and then nodded, walking into the field, only the two of them ready to put a plan crafted so long ago into action. There were no people to stop them, no complications, nothing but the two of them, best friends, ready to have fun. He shook the doubt off from earlier and stepped forward with Peter so that they overlooked the small town of huts and a few brick buildings like the town hall and the school.
Peter smirked...

Numerous Narrators

Derrick and Wesley

"You aren't going to tell her Wesley, and you know it," Derrick said, trudging down the side of the trash-ridden hill. Derrick pulled up his jeans and continued down the side of the hill overlooking the city. Derrick came here all the time to overlook the town they both spent their lives in. Run-down brown buildings, newer, colorful ones, and of the course the old school on the other side of town.
His friend shook his head. "No," he said truthfully.
At least he admits it, Derrick thought to himself. He glanced at Wesley with an eyebrow raised nonetheless. "I didn't expect that."
"I know you didn't. So, how about you? You have anyone you want to dance with tomorrow? Or even talk to? You realize you don't talk at all, right?"
Derrick scowled at him. "Of course I do."
"No, you don't. I think your unibrow scares everyone away."
"I don't have a unibrow, buckteeth."
"Alright, alright. But do...

Love in 13 Words

13

You. Simply you, and that is the only word I will ever need.

Rocks

It's not ok for me to be like this.
There is no worthy explanation. No consolation. No way to drag me up from the chasm I've fallen into. At first when I fell I couldn't see anything- I didn't want to. I still don't want to. I don't want to believe I could... but my eyes adjusted. The dark got easier to see into, but I didn't want to search the chasm- I wanted to get back to the top. I wanted to reach the grassy bluff above me and drown myself in the reeds and weeds of my normal. Not normal, but my normal.
I've been climbing the side of the rocks for a while.

Cut

“You have no right to address a superior like that!” Lee said, his face red- and I stepped forward, a hand on Laurens’ shoulder as a warning not to interrupt me.
“I should hope you do not include yourself among that list General Lee, because that would sorely be wrong, and any assumption otherwise would prove fatal to your reputation. And you would be better if you left Colonel Laurens alone, his father being the head of the Continental Congress who can very well send you back to position of a Colonel, like us, then a Lieutenant Colonel and a Captain and an officer… you are not permitted to speak to Colonel Laurens or myself like that again, General Lee, because as transparent as your threats may be, mine are made of solid stone.”
“Says the bastard from Nevis fathered by his Excellency,” Lee hissed at me.
“Says the bastard from Nevis. Two out of three, but I guess you’re...

The Day (40)

    I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

Flower and The Bee

The Flower had the brightest colors
Her beauty adorned by far
Her petals are never touched by discolor
And her radiance is known among the stars.

But once a visitor had come in a manner suggesting
Nothing but good intentions
Yet as the visitor stayed and slowly sapped, arresting
Life that had been at it's finest, the visitor besting

The color of the Flower had slowly wasted away
And the beauty was lessened from the parasite
The Flower had been too gracious to say
'I need you gone by this night'.

A foe first thought friend,
The visitor, a Bee, left only
When the Flower's petals were drooping and there was no more kindness to lend
And until it healed, was left oh so lonely.


 

Flower and The Bee

The flower had the brightest colors
Her beauty adorned by far
Her petals are never touched by discolor
And her radiance is known among the stars.

Yet there was one day a bee came to her
And it was a big bee, with sleek stripes and a certain strange beauty
Well, the flower knew the bee would take a bit of nectar
So it opened it's petals and stigma for the bee's duty.

The bee took it's fair share
But instead didn't leave that flower
And with it's petals graciously opened there
The bee drank until it's height did tower

The flower would grow later
And double it's beautiful health
But because of a setback, a disguised ill-fater,
The flower's happiness had shrunk down in it's wealth.



 

Pounding

So many people crowded around her, pressing their bodies, not caring who they grazed with their sides or who they nearly knocked over with swinging hips. She drew a breath, knowing she was supposed to entertain the crowd, answer their questions. Suppose to smile for the cameras and sign notebooks- which she truly was grateful for. But she wished her journey could just have one pause, one break outside of the eye of the crowd. And then it started, the pounding. She hated it- it happened more and more often now because there were no breaks in between the constant brushing up of makeup so no one would see the circles under her eyes to take the antidepressants. And here it was to strike again in the middle of her meeting.
"Pardon," she said politely to the CIA looking guard. "I must go to the ladies room, for a moment, would you excuse me?"
He nodded and began announcing to the...

To The People

In my message to the people...
I want them to know they are all the same.
The same, but unique.
A part of humanity, but their own human.

I want them to know that the hate
The reckless, restless, ridiculous hate
Is wrong. There are a million other adjectives I could use
But it. Is. Purely. Wrong.

In my message to the people...
I want them to know I think we can do better
We are good, we make mistakes
Mistakes are a part of life

Do you ever look around
And wonder how we got here?
Politics, religion, fights, race
Does it matter above humane goodness, if it matters at all?

In my message to the people...
I want them to know they are loved.
Maybe by one, maybe by all,
We are loved
More than you know

That you are not any better
Than one person,
And neither are you
Any worse.


 

Oranges

I crave oranges
Ah, the goodness of citrus
I want some juice now

___________________

Behold, the almighty
Wrath of onions! Take a bite
You'll smell all night

____________________

I have big plans so
Let's get cracking- wait, why are-
Run to the car! Car!

_____________________

It's so dusty here
I'll go get the vaccum now
Is that a mouse hole?

_____________________

I hate groceries
And shopping for them is so...
What? Didn't mean it Mom

_____________________


 

Message

This, look around, is not guaranteed
And if you know this, Godspeed
Yet you must remember that death happens every day
And they did not choose this, they had no say

God is the only one who knows our plan
You must tell this to your son, and the sons of that man
And right now, in your life, would you be satisfied
Let me answer- no, and that must have been what they thought when they died.

I do not profess to live everyday like this
But to take every chance, hit or miss,
That way we can never regret
And maybe- just maybe- we will heed this message yet.

Album Review Competition 2018

Pink Shoe Laces

Dodie Stevens is a talented singer and storyteller- and you know that because she has managed to keep people's attention since the late 1950s and early 1960s. Dodie was very young when this was written, not even really a teenager, so you enter the world of a young girl who has constant emotions, thoughts, flirtations, romance and heartbreaks.Old-fashioned, yet ever relevant, Pink Shoe Laces has many things to be proud of.
I was sitting in the front of my car when it came on the radio. I'd been switching through and settled on a station, tired of pressing the buttons and trying to look at the horizon at the same time, when I found the title 'Pink Shoe Laces'. I had written in part of one of my own poems about a girl with pink shoe laces, so I instantly fell in love with the happy beat of the song and wonderfully intriguing words. 'Pink Shoe Laces' has a beat which suggests that...

The Day (40)

   I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

The Day (40)

  I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

A Mess

Just forgive me.
I don't know what more I can say. I've tried to suppress this so long, to stay away, and when I do let go it goes to far, it makes things worse, it always, always, always goes beyond what I wanted it too. I'm trying, really, I am. Can you not tell in the ways I shove myself in the limelight for you? Can you not tell from the numerous times I've put a piece of myself in my palm and held it out for you. And you don't toss it away, but that's because you don't even pick it up. You don't even touch it. You stare, politely, and walk away.
Just forgive me.
Just forgive me and I can begin to forgive you for all the time you made me waste for trying to gain your favor.

Gone For Good

Gone for good.
He is surely gone for good, never to return, not even in dreams, not even in memory.

Wrangling Thoughts (24)

There was a date! A wonderful amazing date! My wedding date! I wondered if I would get fired from my current position for being too happy while I made sure the amount of gunpowder distributed was enough. I tried to wash the smile off my face but it wouldn't seem to go, not even when some accidentally whapped me in the shoulder with the butt of a musket. I'd sent them off with a smile on my face! After Laurens and Mulligan told Lafayette and me, I almost passed out. They said I looked faint and had to steady me and eventually tried to drag me off to bed but someone told us we were needed in supplying. Well, I was needed in supplying. Mulligan and Lafayette were leading a charge and Laurens was going to fight too, near the back. And I... well, I was going to have a wedding, which made the other things pale in comparison.
I passed the musket...

Wrangling Thoughts (24)

There was a date! A wonderful amazing date! My wedding date! I wondered if I would get fired from my current position for being too happy while I made sure the amount of gunpowder distributed was enough. I tried to wash the smile off my face but it wouldn't seem to go, not even when some accidentally whapped me in the shoulder with the butt of a musket. I'd sent them off with a smile on my face! After Laurens and Mulligan told Lafayette and me, I almost passed out. They said I looked faint and had to steady me and eventually tried to drag me off to bed but someone told us we were needed in supplying. Well, I was needed in supplying. Mulligan and Lafayette were leading a charge and Laurens was going to fight too, near the back. And I... well, I was going to have a wedding, which made the other things pale in comparison.
I passed the musket...

Is One That Never Ends

We overlook the foggy mountain air.
Our laughter is clogged
With the joy of being there

The car is parked behind a grove of trees
We are left alone out here,
Wild, Young, and Free

And the mountain is the bird in the sky
We don't always know it,
But it keeps a watchful eye

And so it begins
And so it begins
A journey into the world
Is one that never ends

And so it begins
And so it begins
A journey into the world
 Is one that never ends


We pull up our pants and roll them tight
Dancing in the water
That's only knee-high

We've not a map except the one inside
But what's joy in returning
To a place where you must hide?

The trees are giant sculptures way up high
We climb up the branches
And watch the day go by

And so it begins
And so it begins
A journey into the world
Is one...

...But I Don't

I waited for it to be flushed out of my system and now... it is gone. That spark that caught my attention and that held me so close to the fire is now.... cold. I should feel relieved.... I never like to fall in love. It traps me, holding me against my will so I may not escape and yet... and yet that feeling, the drunkness of young emotions, I want that, I want to be swinging in an ever-churning pendulum of what ifs and what nots, and what could be and what cant. I know not if I am too feel that way again, and I am not sure I want to- altogether I am unsure of what I want. I just know that I should feel relieved to have that out of my system... but I don't.

...But I Don't

I waited for it to b flushed out of my system and now... it is gone. That spark that caught my attention and that held me so close to the fire is now.... cold. I should feel relieved.... I never like to fall in love. It traps me, holding me against my will so I may not escape and yet... and yet that feeling, the drunkness of young emotions, I want that, I want to be swinging in an ever-churning pendulum of what ifs and what nots, and what could be and what cant. I know not if I am too feel that way again, and I am not sure I want to- altogether I am unsure of what I want. I just know that I should feel relieved to have that out of my system... but I don't.

Solastalgia

Solastalgia

What happened to those snow angels?
Did they all fly away?
While I've no silky dress or bangles,
I again want to have that day.

Where did the crisp winds
Of fall whip past me?
Of the people drinking from mugs and collecting in tins
Where would all of that be?

 

She

No one could create a better image.
She was beautiful, her face staring pointedly at us, her eyes slanted so that she always seemed superior, above the rest of the world. Her nose was slightly curled at the end, and her lips were set so you could never tell whether she was about to smile or frown. Her hair was golden- not blonde, but golden, a sheen of grace settling over her so effortlessly you wondered if she even knew it was there. She was always moving, somehow, in whatever way. It was as though every step was a step forward, no matter which direction she went in, because she always made progress. You could try to focus on one part of her- her hands, her hair- but you always came back to the mouth, the mouth that said so many things and held so many expressions.
And the most shocking thing was, she had no idea.

Boundaries

Boundaries?
What are boundaries?
With us, there is no stone unturned, nothing left to be discovered, we are so in sync in our actions, collected in our thoughts, and open with each other there are no boundaries, no lines we must fear, and the ones written in the sand for that day and quickly washed away by morning, and we are together again.
The ice that may form with others when they separate, that it is not there for us, there is nothing but flame that we feed with an endless fuel- our connection. There is nothing between any of us, we are the same, our flesh and bone the same, our blood the blood we all bled with scrapes.
I will not say we are perfect because of this- we yell at eachother, we scream, we fall down when we run too eagerly to slow down and too fast to get there at the right time. We have our...

Cautionary Tale

I will not dally the purpose of my story with complimentary items.
So let's begin, shall we? Unless you want to maintain the perfect world you suppose you live in. If so, be my guest and don't let it hit you where the good Lord split you.
I will set the scene- imagine a beautiful girl. One with ample curls and such a square neck there was no need for a slit down the center, a small face with strong features of bright, abundantly blue eyes and a nose with nostrils that seemed to flare whenever she breathed, painting her the picture of a small daring fawn in a meadow, prancing on unknown grounds. Then there is a man with a strong set of shoulders, always in form but not so much he would be seen as nervous. Long brown hair pulled into a ponytail that encircled the nape of his neck, and blue eyes that seemed to match her...

Quote

If you have haters, you must be doing something right.

Magnitude

He walked inside as if he did it every day, as if not a day had passed since he left her. And maybe it hadn't been that long- maybe it only seemed like a month, but really it had just been a week, hadn't it? You lost everything when it came to grief- you lost track of time, you lost a reason to care, you lost the bright bounce in your step that came so easy you didn't recognize it enough to miss it before now. To know someone was no longer there, and that there was nothing you could do, to know that that person was entirely lost to this world, that they would never come back...
There would be no more swathed towels, no more family dinners because it wouldn't be family without that person. There would be no more of that, no more at all. No more smiles that stretched across their faces, no more coming into...

Unfair

"You know what you are?" he asked, teetering on the end of the fence post, his shiny dress shoes dangerously close to my head as I leaned against the yellow painted barrier.
I sighed. "Tell me."
"Awkward."
"Gee, I never would have guessed."
He bent down and cupped my chin with his hands, somehow managing to stay on the fence. A fact of which taunted me seeing as I couldn't even stay up where he was for a moment. Gravity works in strange ways.Pushing up the corners of my mouth into a smile, his dark hair fanned in front of my face and blocked my view of the undisturbed seaside. Green and white foam fingers stretching themselves out on the beach, the dark blue a horizon in itself, something that didn't seem to change on normal days, but who's presence made all the difference. That was, until it was blocked by my friend's stupidly long hair. "You're a boy,"...

Still Here


Faded had the feelings of inexplicable loving
She now hugged herself to keep it all from falling to nothing

I need help with the second line.

Powers

There were about twenty of them, twenty trained officers lying on the ground, unmoving, unconscious. "You didn't," I whispered in horror to him, his arm around my waist to catch me from falling. It was eerily quiet, a stretch of green outside our log cabin, the white clouds stretched over the blue sky. The police cars were still glowing bright with the red and blue and white lights flashing, but no one was left in them, not a single soul that wasn't already on the ground. "No, Jimmy, you didn't!" I cried out, and right before I started screaming he covered my mouth with a hand.
"What? Would you have wanted me to be taken to a facility where they picked me apart for my powers?" Jimmy asked, his long black beard jutting in my face. I breathed in and out, my mind too shocked to say anything.
"That's what I thought," Jimmy responded roughly, and with my in one...

Boundaries

Boundaries?
What are boundaries?
With us, there is no stone unturned, nothing left to be discovered, we are so in sync in our actions, collected in our thoughts, and open with each other there are no boundaries, no lines we must fear, and the ones written in the sand for that day and quickly washed away by morning, and we are together again.
The ice that may form with others when they separate, that it is not there for us, there is nothing but flame that we feed with an endless fuel- our connection. There is nothing between any of us, we are the same, our flesh and bone the same, our blood the blood we all bled with scrapes.
I will not say we are perfect because of this- we yell at eachother, we scream, we fall down when we run too eagerly to slow down and too fast to get there at the right time. We have our...

Album Review Competition 2018

Pink Shoe Laces

Dodie Stevens is a talented singer and storyteller- and you know that because she has managed to keep people's attention since the late 1950s and early 1960s. Dodie was very young when this was written, not even really a teenager, so you enter the world of a young girl who has constant emotions, thoughts, flirtations, romance and heartbreaks.Old-fashioned, yet ever relevant, Pink Shoe Laces has many things to be proud of.
I was sitting in the front of my car when it came on the radio. I'd been switching through and settled on a station, tired of pressing the buttons and trying to look at the horizon at the same time, when I found the title 'Pink Shoe Laces'. I had written in part of one of my own poems about a girl with pink shoe laces, so I instantly fell in love with the happy beat of the song and wonderfully intriguing words. 'Pink Shoe Laces' has a beat which suggests that...

Album Review Competition 2018

Pink Shoe Laces

Dodie Stevens is a talented singer and storyteller- and you know that because she has managed to keep people's attention since the late 1950s and early 1960s. Dodie was very young when this was written, not even really a teenager, so you enter the world of a young girl who has constant emotions, thoughts, flirtations, romance and heartbreaks. Hearing this album is like no other one- she not only has a beautiful voice, but this is put together that express in sequence her growing years while not really giving anyone any sadder, slower beats, and makes you smile and sing along. Old-fashioned, yet ever relevant, Pink Shoe Laces has many things to be proud of.
I was sitting in the front of my car when it came on the radio. I'd been switching through and settled on a station, tired of pressing the buttons and trying to look at the horizon at the same time, when I found the title 'Pink Shoe Laces'....

Golden Stars

'The playground is very fun.'
Nick rubbed his chin with the eraser of his pencil, staring at the paper in front of him. The teacher wanted a detailed paper on his Summer, he couldn't let her down, not when the fate of a golden star was in the balance. What was he thinking? Everyone knew the playground was fun! That was like saying grown-ups were boring! It was just common knowledge. Nick frowned and instead of erasing, continued with the paper.
'Mommy and Daddy took me tehre a lott. It has a nice sandbocx and some swings that Mommy and Daddy pushed me on. I saw Devan and Maddy and Jason and Kayden there going up and down the sliiide, it was very long and red.'
Brilliant! But what else had he done over the summer? He'd gone over to his cousins and seen the scariest movie ever. That would scare them! He'd have them begging for him to stop...

In Motion

Driving

There is an endless stretch of highway ahead of you, apparently deserted. This would freak you out, but it doesn't now, it doesn't, and you press your foot deeper onto the pedal until your embedded in the car floor.
Driving.
The world is a place full of people who scream their opinions, who make sure they are heard above the din, and it's nice to escape from a world tearing apart into driving. And so you drive, breathing as a song plays in the background.
Driving.
The lights pass you, shoving you into darkness and rescuing the next moment, unless the occasional fuse has broken and blinked out. The same image of white broken lines fills your vision.
Driving.
You know the world can't stop in time, but with the sky above and the road your driving down, it seems like your life is running a track that doesn't cease to make you content.
Driving.
You flip the blinker on...

44

Good evening,

I would like to take this time to reflect on our 44th President, President Obama. This is probably unneeded but I would just like to give a short message thanking our President, President Obama, for being the President for me that goes up with Washington and Lincoln. I would like not to take a jab at any one else but simply thank you for being the greatest 44th President of the United States of America, and united under you we all must be. You are strong, you are a dream come true, and I am proud of you, and proud to be an American who has lived during your presidency.

Thank you and goodnight.

44

Good evening,

I would like to take this time to reflect on our 44th President, President Obama. This is probably unneeded but I would just like to give a short message thanking our President, President Obama, for being the President for me that goes up with Washington and Lincoln. I would like not to take a jab at any one else but simply thank you for being the greatest 44th President of the United States of America, and united under you we all must be. You are strong, you are a dream come true, and I am proud of you.

Thank you and goodnight.

The Sequence Of Letters Involving America, Britain, and France

Dear Britain,

It's over. I'd say I'm sorry, but there have already been enough lies between us. I mean, really? You think you can just come over whenever you want, take what you want, and try to boss me around? Like when you take me out to places and make me pay? And berate me in front of your friends? Wow. I can't believe I ever fell in love with you. I've been talking to your ex, France. Seriously? Is that what you do? Butter your girlfriends up and then bring them down until they worship you. Uh, no. Get out and take your things. I mean, you had to have seen this coming! Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, didn't you hear? I guess not since your on a different hemisphere.
And one more thing baby- don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you.

Your Most Passionate Ex Nation,
America
With the Help of Your...

Trump.

As many Americans already now, there has been an event including President Donald J. Trump on where he has, on live television, declared African countries as 's***holes' and asks for more white immigrants coming in from Norway. This is not the first time he has made racial slurs but it may have been the first he's said it in so plain terms that no one could confuse his meaning and that no one could declare 'Fake News'.
This isn't America- this is not America, not today's America who is so enlightened and admired by all countries and people. Who in this world thinks that such a careless, untrue, demeaning, and racist comment can easily be pushed aside. 'He's using crass terms,' some people try to defend. Yes, you are right, because crass means stupid, insensitive, mindless, and simply gross.
'He's made a mistake.'
Is it mistake to have something live broadcasting for the first time in history a congressional meeting...

Hamilton's Birthday

Today is the day!
Hamilton's (summed up by historians) birthday.
 

Pretending

Pretending.
It's a shell, a cruel prison wrought around yourself by the metal shaped from shame and hardened with the need to fit in, and find a place.
It's a case you are shoved inside, dusty and old and yet you always have to be shiny on the outside, so no one ever has to look in and see just how bad of a condition you are in.
It's a feeling where nothing is as it should be, you are not who you are, if even for a split second and if even for a blinking thought said aloud, or said to oneself.
It's a pair of pants a size to small you force yourself into only to red marks later, only to suffer in plain sight with no one noticing.
It's a monster's lair, where it hides and issues a call once in a while to let everyone know it's still alive- dormant, and letting them think what they...

It's Really There

It's really there.
Yes, I'm telling the truth.
A life's masterpiece is contained inside of them.
The one right there shouldering the backpack, the one with the new haircut, the one who's reading and the one who's snorting with laughter. You can put these people into categories, you can write them off, but trust me when I say they are worth so much more than a fleeting glance. Because in each one of us, something is there.
It's really there.

A Mess

Just forgive me.
I don't know what more I can say. I've tried to suppress this so long, to stay away, and when I do let go it goes to far, it makes things worse, it always, always, always goes beyond what I wanted it too. I'm trying, really, I am. Can you not tell in the ways I shove myself in the limelight for you? Can you not tell from the numerous times I've put a piece of myself in my palm and held it out for you. And you don't toss it away, but that's because you don't even pick it up. You don't even touch it. You stare, politely, and walk away.
Just forgive me.
Just forgive me and I can begin to forgive you for all the time you made me waste for trying to gain your favor.

WILD

Wild, Wild, Wild

Their names were terrifyingly memorable, so much it seemed never truly to leave your mind.
They sprawled across the floors, demanding you notice them, their voices bouncing back and forth relentlessly.
It is code, a certain set of which only they understand.
Arms are stretched wide, their hair whipping around them, they run wherever they want, no limits to them.
They scream, half-caring if they are listened too and only if they are heard.
And they are wild, wild, wild.
It is hard to imagine them otherwise.







 

Unfair

"You know what you are?" he asked, teetering on the end of the fence post, his shiny dress shoes dangerously close to my head as I leaned against the yellow painted barrier.
I sighed. "Tell me."
"Awkward."
"Gee, I never would have guessed."
He bent down and cupped my chin with his hands, somehow managing to stay on the fence. A fact of which taunted me seeing as I couldn't even stay up where he was for a moment. Gravity works in strange ways.Pushing up the corners of my mouth into a smile, his dark hair fanned in front of my face and blocked my view of the undisturbed seaside. Green and white foam fingers stretching themselves out on the beach, the dark blue a horizon in itself, something that didn't seem to change on normal days, but who's presence made all the difference. That was, until it was blocked by my friend's stupidly long hair. "You're a boy,"...

Get Back

Tomorrow is a new day, they say to themselves.
Should that mean that the rest of today should not matter?
That the renewal of this is meaningless in the knowing that tomorrow is guaranteed?
It's not guaranteed, not at all.
No single moment, or second, or motion on this Earth was, is, and will never be guaranteed.
Should that mean we should not make plans?
No.
But it means that the work put into something today is more work you will get done faster than if you did it tomorrow.
Live life yes, because you will never get this day back. Friday, January 5, 2018, I will never get back.



 

Signing Off

Hello, Goodbye

There is a time to say hello, and there is a time to say goodbye, and though these seem easy to say, the time between determine just how much harder it is to say these two things. So goodbye sins, hello my Lord, whom has above all else saved me from the demons in myself.
Goodbye grief, hello healing.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, I can say it but it's harder to mean it when I don't know if we will meet again. Some I can shut the door on easily, some I cannot simply leave.
I try to say goodbye innocence, but I can't. It clings to me and I to it.
I try to say goodbye to hurt, but it refuses to leave, it will be my companion.
I try to say goodbye to tears, but I know that isn't right.
I can firmly say goodbye to sinful behavior, and try to say goodbye to thoughts I shouldn't have.
I say...

Such A Bother

"Oh please, don't be such a bother Edgar! Who died and made you king, besides the technicality that you are indeed king?"
Aunt of King Weston who is twenty, in a novel I have yet to write.

Sleep

There is smoke on my clothes, so much I feel I am swallowing it, like I myself am a fire kindled that is burning so slowly without knowing and that my own demise is indicated only by this intoxicating smoke filling my lungs.
Scabs are scrapped off my body, my hands moving in a rhythm without thinking of really opening up another sore, just having something to do, because stillness is not an option.
I look around just so I'm not staring at anything, not having to think to hard about anything because I know, because they all know, I can't handle deep thinking right now.
My muscles start to twitch in my face, and it is a struggle to keep that frown off my face, because we all know, they all knew, where the frown would lead.
A song drifts through my consciousness, curling around my ears in a dangerous gentle sound, the voice disarming me from my worries...

I Don't Usually Do This But...

I usually never do this because I don't like to mess with celebrities but...
Lin Manuel Miranda, should this reach you, my as well as many others' condolences for the recent passing in your family.

Sick And Tired

I have a very important message, so I would appreciate you reading this. And before I begin, I will warn you this is a Feminism piece, and this does not mean that all males, in general, are this horribly offensive, and this does not mean girls cannot view boys in stereotypical ways or like them for the sizes of certain body parts either.

Now that this is out of the way...

I remember watching a show late at night just because I couldn't fall asleep and it was featuring girls at a high school being numbered based on their appeal to a group of boys- their hair, their body, their makeup. In the end, yes, the girls realized numbers and ratings did not matter. This, combined with all of the sexual misconduct allegations and recent events, some to me on a personal level, boosts the need of feminism.
However, there was someone I heard saying 'I'm sick and tired of...

Christmas

Christmas fills me with indescribable pleasure
A true and beautiful unburied treasure
An experience that always seems to surpass every measure
Creating relief after all of the self-appointed pressure.

The joy of family, sitting all around
Of rushing on the eve of Christmas Eve to town
Of taking two hours to find a graceful gown
To take a picture with faces crammed in, up and down.

The Church pews filling up so fast
People giving out money to those who might not last
Preparing more traditions and bringing some back from past
Toddlers' presents too big and vast.

Aunts and Uncles and Cousins arrive too early or too late
Hundreds of different license plates
Helping hands handling the old gate
Waking up early and dashing on the holy date.

 

Smacking In The Press

(A smack in the press)

                        To describe Terrance Bullguard would have to be extracting three words that come to mind. 
                        Unstable, unreliable, and devious are all words that I cannot help but think as I acknowledge 
                        this man sadly as a growing threat towards all that our nation holds good and holy. You think
                        rioting is at it's peak now, you will certainly be blown back with no further notice once Mr.
                        Bullguard has taken the stage of which you are voting to put him upon. Instead I would rather
                        as I am sure the rest of the American Citizens do that you elect someone worthy enough that 
                        can properly withstand attacks on our nation's policies and uphold our prospects. This would
                        of course be John Teldon.
                        - P. N.

O

                       To address a certain set of allegations made against me and my intentions once in the position
                        I offer to take willingly, I do not read with a...

A Ruined Shirt

"Don't. Move."
I stood with lance leveled to my heart. Still, I couldn't afford to be scared. No matter what, if I was to live on, I couldn't afford the luxury of fear. "Or what?"
The Captain's guards looked at each other uneasily like even in the face of death I still had a trick up my sleeve. The Captain, though, didn't. He narrowed his eyes. "Or you meet the fiery depths where you belong."
I smiled ruthlessly. "Wishful thinking, good man."
"The difference between us is that I am a good man. You are not."
I whistled lowly. "Harsh, aren't we?"
The Captain stiffened. Then with pinpoint accuracy he threw his leg into where the sun don't shine. I whimpered but didn't bend down, forcing myself to stay upright. He bent close to my ear but I didn't dare try anything for fear he'd raise his leg again or stab his lance and run me through. "You are going to...

Smacking In The Press

(A smack in the press)

                        To describe Terrance Bullguard would have to be extracting three words that come to mind. 
                        Unstable, unreliable, and devious are all words that I cannot help but think as I acknowledge 
                        this man sadly as a growing threat towards all that our nation holds good and holy. You think
                        rioting is at it's peak now, you will certainly be blown back with no further notice once Mr.
                        Bullguard has taken the stage of which you are voting to put him upon. Instead I would rather
                        as I am sure the rest of the American Citizens do that you elect someone worthy enough that 
                        can properly withstand attacks on our nation's policies and uphold our prospects. This would
                        of course be John Teldon.
                        - P. N.

O

                       To address a certain set of allegations made against me and my intentions once in the position
                        I offer to take willingly, I do not read with a...

A Ruined Shirt

"Don't. Move."
I stood with lance leveled to my heart. Still, I couldn't afford to be scared. No matter what, if I was to live on, I couldn't afford the luxury of fear. "Or what?"
The Captain's guards looked at each other uneasily like even in the face of death I still had a trick up my sleeve. The Captain, though, didn't. He narrowed his eyes. "Or you meet the fiery depths where you belong."
I smiled ruthlessly. "Wishful thinking, good man."
"The difference between us is that I am a good man. You are not."
I whistled lowly. "Harsh, aren't we?"
The Captain stiffened. Then with pinpoint accuracy he threw his leg into where the sun don't shine. I whimpered but didn't bend down, forcing myself to stay upright. He bent close to my ear but I didn't dare try anything for fear he'd raise his leg again or stab his lance and run me through. "You are going to...

OK

I walked outside, needing a breath of fresh air, anything to clear this block in my throat. We'd gotten into a fight- something stupid, an argument that just grew so out of hand I couldn't handle it. And since Min obviously could, I looked like the weak one, needing air. Was I weak? I sighed and looked up at the glowing Olive Garden sign in the dimming sky, cars pulling into the parking lot. I stood aside on the corner, not wanting to block the glass door. A van turned on their blinker and entered the lot from the long stretch of asphalt, a McDonalds M half-lit on the other side of the street and a Sams a bit further down with a full lot of hatchbacks and sedans loading their trunks with groceries. I tucked my jacket tighter around myself and waited for my heart to slow to normal, knowing I should return to the table yet unwilling to face...

OK

I walked outside, needing a breath of fresh air, anything to clear this block in my throat. We'd gotten into a fight- something stupid, an argument that just grew so out of hand I couldn't handle it. And since Min obviously could, I looked like the weak one, needing air. Was I weak? I sighed and looked up at the glowing Olive Garden sign in the dimming sky, cars pulling into the parking lot. I stood aside on the corner, not wanting to block the glass door. A van turned on their blinker and entered the lot from the long stretch of asphalt, a McDonalds M half-lit on the other side of the street and a Sams a bit further down with a full lot of hatchbacks and sedans loading their trunks with groceries. I tucked my jacket tighter around myself and waited for my heart to slow to normal, knowing I should return to the table yet unwilling to face...

OK

I walked outside, needing a breath of fresh air, anything to clear this block in my throat. We'd gotten into a fight- something stupid, an argument that just grew so out of hand I couldn't handle it. And since Min obviously could, I looked like the weak one, needing air. Was I weak? I sighed and looked up at the glowing Olive Garden sign in the dimming sky, cars pulling into the parking lot. I stood aside on the corner, not wanting to block the glass door. A van turned on their blinker and entered the lot from the long stretch of asphalt, a McDonalds M half-lit on the other side of the street and a Sams a bit further down with a full lot of hatchbacks and sedans loading their trunks with groceries. I tucked my jacket tighter around myself and waited for my heart to slow to normal, knowing I should return to the table yet unwilling to face...

Kutoa

 We sat in the pew, our hair glossy and tied up on our heads with black silk bows or, for the boys, bowties on their chest. Simple black velvety dresses or black shirts were all that could be seen besides the differing skin tones, hair, and bowties. The pews were hard but I was comfortable enough with the warm satisfied feeling in my chest, the joy of Christmas certainly not skipping over me. No harsh fluorescent lights bore down upon us, but rather yellow ones like lamplight and candlewax. Which was what they were, either hanging in the windows tilled with snow or on the three big chandeliers above the long path to the stage.
Men and women greeted each other and shook hands, some known and some having never set eyes upon one another before. The choir and the composer read through their piece one last time and the orchestra strumming or blowing or chiming away on their instruments. I smiled at an old man with his wife...

Holiday

Hold family tight.
Because in the end it isn't about the presents
It isn't about the lights
It isn't about the food, the roast or pheasant.

No, hold your family near, and Jesus with you all the way
This is the best advice to give on this holiday

Highs

You think you have my heart? You think you are my other half, the one who makes me whole? You think without you I would never be the same? You have the nerve to think I gifted my heart so easily to you?
You think I'd be stupid enough, after all of the times my heart had been bruised, to give it away again?
You think you have that power, that control, that beautiful mix of my highs and lows and everything in between?
Well then you'd be right.
So let's ride one of my highs for once.
 

Lost (43)

Lost (43)
I rode with Noah in front of me, trying not to jostle him that much. Washington didn’t say much after we climbed on our horses, neither did Lafayette. I looked at my friends, trying to still my own heart. Eliza must leave today. Eliza must escape with her family. I couldn’t bear if anything happened to her. Nothing must happen to her. I wanted to turn my horse right then and there and ride off to protect her, ride until I made sure she was safe. But I looked over at my Commander and knew I couldn’t abandon my friends, abandon my nation.
“Sir,” I said, cautiously. “West Point, is it not prepping for attack as we speak?”
“That it is. Which is why we must hurry. Hamilton, no paper is to be spared.”
“No paper spared?”
“Not until we reach West Point,” Washington commanded. He paused. “Miss Eliza will have to wait.”
I blinked, anger immediately rising. ...

Rocks

It's not ok for me to be like this.
There is no worthy explanation. No consolation. No way to drag me up from the chasm I've fallen into. At first when I fell I couldn't see anything- I didn't want to. I still don't want to. I don't want to believe I could... but my eyes adjusted. The dark got easier to see into, but I didn't want to search the chasm- I wanted to get back to the top. I wanted to reach the grassy bluff above me and drown myself in the reeds and weeds of my normal. Not normal, but my normal.
I've been climbing the side of the rocks for a while now.

Ten Words

"I-ah...sorry," I stared into his green eyes, waiting for whatever it is I wanted to see. I wish I could read him like I could read other people, but I could never really guess what he was thinking- I could tell when he was listening. I could tell because when he wasn't listening, he was staring at something no one could see, a brilliant idea not yet revealed to mankind. And I could when he was, because all of his attention was focused on me, though green eyes cornering me without meaning too, pumping blood into my cheeks and heating my ears like no other. Oh, how could I say what I wanted to? How could I go through with the plan?
And he was waiting, his eyes not leaving my face, totally focused on me. What was he thinking? What was behind those green, beautiful eyes? He scrubbed a hand through his short brown/blonde hair and I glanced down at his...

Ten Words to You

:)

Family's everything that we need over here! Here is home.

I Get to See the Hartheers, So This is Gonna Be Awful

I passed through Science, Social Studies, and Literature alright, and explained to my friends what happened. "Sorry Billy, thought they would buzz off after our famous Spitballers had a chance to sink their teeth in. Boy, they were good shots, too. Got Larry Hinkle right between the eyes, James, and Melanie got some tangled in Trudy Baker's hair. But then we sent in the grounds troops- and oh, I was thinking, how about we make some paper airplane and put vials of ink in them, send them right over enemy territory for what they did to you today- err, you gotta red mark below your chin there, yeah, that's it. Might want to check that out and make sure the jerks didn't give you some kind of rash," Leo, who was basically the leader of the Nerd side of the Bus War, said this all in two breathes and then had the time to add to Hank that his hair...

Fernweh

New Words

  • Seroam- (noun) (present/past/furture tense) A word that means forgo; to be without something, to let go. Example: She contemplated heavily whether or not to seroam the antique.
  • Tobenough- (verb, noun) (present, future tense) Tobenoughen (past tense) A word that means to suffice, to get through. Example: As he walked back inside, she wondered what it would take to Tobenough to his needs.
  • Alapsis- (verb, adverb) (present, future tense) Alapse (past tense) A word that means educated guess or assumption; to assume or make theories about. Example: Based on the gray clouds, rain was a good Alapsis for the weather.
  • Agniture- (root word agni= fire in Sanskrit) (noun) (present, past, and future tense) (Agniture(s)) A word that means to fight fire with fire, or battle out a feud. A common problem dealt with. Example: They locked themselves in a room, promising not to leave until their agniture was dealt with.
  • Onala- (noun) A name meaning passion. Example: Onala let them all...

My December Competition 2017

My December

I stood on stage, ready to sing, my knees shaking slightly and feet going numb from being up there so long. I know a lot of people in the crowd, and all of them are staring up at the mob of red shirts representing the school choir. The lights were harsh stares but I was glad they were working since not two days before the first showing most of the lights were refusing to come on. Everyone stood with the collars of their polo shirts a circle of sweat, and their belts holding up jeans that drooped. My mouth was singing the words that I didn't even really have to focus on, but all of our eyes were trained on the director, so I did follow his hand gestures, trying to ignore the huge mass of people behind him staring up at our Christmas songs.
There it was- I needed to head down. I turned around since I was on...

My December Competition 2017

My December

I stood on stage, ready to sing, my knees shaking slightly and feet going numb from being up there so long. I know a lot of people in the crowd, and all of them are staring up at the mob of red shirts representing the school choir. The lights were harsh stares but I was glad they were working since not two days before the first showing most of the lights were refusing to come on. Everyone stood with the collars of the polo shirts a circle of sweat, and their belts holding up jeans that drooped. My mouth was singing the words that I didn't even really have to focus on, but all of our eyes were trained on the directors, so I did follow his hand gestures, trying to ignore the huge mass of people behind him staring up at our Christmas songs.
There it was- I needed to head down. I turned around since I was on...

Pro tip: Never Let a Wednesdy Sneak Up On You

Wednesday Morning I woke up as usual, got dressed, and then went down stairs. Strange thing was, my dad was still there. In a red-brown shirt and boots, he eyed me. "You know what today is?" he grunted through sipping his coffee.
Yeah, today was the day we released the paper airplanes with the ink vials. Logan had ignored me yesterday and the day before, but I had a bad feeling about today. But Dad didn't know about that. "Uhhh..."
He put down his coffee and scowled at me, his face like a distorted cat hissing. "Billy, don't you remember our talk? It's Wednesday. So I expect you to take your bike with you to school, Paper Palace is only a couple streets away from school and I can't pick you up. Think you can get there ok?"
My mouth went dry. Oh no. Maybe there was a way out of it. I mean, there had to be, there was...

I Get to See the Hartheers, So This is Gonna Be Awful

I passed through Science, Social Studies, and Literature alright, and explained to my friends what happened. "Sorry Billy, thought they would buzz off after our famous Spitballers had a chance to sink their teeth in. Boy, they were good shots, too. Got Larry Hinkle right between the eyes, James, and Melanie got some tangled in Trudy Baker's hair. But then we sent in the grounds troops- and oh, I was thinking, how about we make some paper airplane and put vials of ink in them, send them right over enemy territory for what they did to you today- err, you gotta red mark below your chin there, yeah, that's it. Might want to check that out and make sure the jerks didn't give you some kind of rash," Leo, who was basically the leader of the Nerd side of the Bus War, said this all in two breathes and then had the time to add to Hank that his hair...

Gone (42)

I had never been so happy in my life. The rest of the night had gone by in a flash and I remembered events in bits. Angelica talking to Mr. Church, dancing with Father, joking with Lydia, introducing Alexander to everyone. He had danced with me, and then joked and even talked with Aunt Rosette. I frowned at the memory, sitting up in my bed. That was a memory I wouldn't care to forget. She kept dropping hints about his life. The letter I should've never let her read. But as always Alexander had handled the situation with good grace. He was an incredible dancer too- whenever I stumbled, he was there with a strong arm around my waist to guide me back to the beat as well as starting my heartbeat anew to its own quick rhythm.
Congratulations had come from everyone, even little Catherine in her own way of grabbing one of the buttons on Alexander's coat and squeezing....

Fall? Or Let Go?

Would you believe I was scrolling through a video and saw this comment that made me think?
It says (estimated I clicked off): Well did he fall from the tree or let go?

And that just made me think about love. Don't ask me why- I am a weird person.
But when you fall in love, is it destined to always haunt you no matter how much you know you shouldn't be? Friends, I love, family, is wondrous, but love? The romantic kind? Do we have a choice there, or are hearts wired differently than our brain? Something that makes you like someone, not really for their body, not really for the way they cry of laugh but simply for them? Is that impossible to fight against, that tugging at your stomach, that sensation that sends you into a spiral of what if, what if, what if?
So if it is inevitable...
Do you know when you can't help it? ...

Setting as Mood

Escaping Thoughts

Clare breathed out, her hands clutching the end of the rock. Just one more push-
And she was there! There, at the top of the rock.
It was a jagged one, breaking out from beneath the gray sand that skirted by the ocean. The blackness rubbed off like pitch on her hands and she had to take special care not to skin her arms. Water pooled in small parts like elevated tide pools and shells tucked themselves securely into the folds of stony darkness. The ocean called out to the structure that resisted it's waves, the blue and white waters slipping easily onto the shore where water met land.
It was beautiful, a wonderful calming place where she could sit and relax. The rock underneath her poked her through the bottom of her neon yellow shorts and irritated her flat palms while her fingers clung to the undersides of her perch as to not fall off. She hadn't been prepared...

Benedict Arnold (41)

"Sir, the password?"
I looked up, my senses clogged from what I had just done not 24 hours ago- I was a married man now. I blinked and looked up at the guard, who seemed familiar though I couldn't put my mind on his name. All I could recall was her scent, her brown hair swept over her shoulders yet tucked behind her ears. "The password?" I repeated.
He nodded, his shaggy brown hair swerving from side to side as he did.
He wanted the password? I should know this! I chastised soldiers for not remembering the passwords. What was the password? I racked my brains and found myself simply helpless. "Ah.... Tourniquet? General Washington? Redcoats approach?"
It threw the guard off. He looked at me with a concerned face. "You are Colonel Hamilton, are you not sir?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered quietly. What was the password? "A Revelation?" I asked.
He shook his head. "That was last weeks sir." ...

Thanksgiving

Broken arms
Grass-stained jeans
Rusted red farms
Ms. Laup checking her greens

Yes this is the day
This day right now
When everyone is happy and gay
And the milk is fresh from the cow.

Gather round the table
Pass your plates around
There's football on cable
And a dog homeward bound

Pass the plates
And then you can play outside
Play three legged foot race
Or watch your airplanes glide

Help Aunt Ewan in
She's got the turkey
Wrapped up all in tin
 What'd I tell you, see?

Wooden tables, lots of plates
Take a seat, we don't mind.
We've opened the wire gates
Now your table is for you to find.

 

Birdsong

Air Dance

She does not move yet, facing with pride into the fog.
Then-
With a surge of air compressed beneath each feather she flies into the air, twisting as she does so.
The tendrils of smoky uncertainty are nothing compared to her keen sense of direction, her joy, her fierce determination to be carried by the wind.
Swip, Swip, Swip,
The soft sound of a bird's dance intensifies.
Pitter pitter pitter is the sound of the bird slowing down as she scans for the next place to dart.
Like a choir, she flurries her wings so swiftly that in the blink of an eye she is gone, one of the figures in the fog.
Where is she? Precariously she sits on the wobbly branch unbalanced with the weight of her and a whatever else is on that hide behind a curtain of pink whiteness.
Clit Clit Clit, that is the sound of her inching along the branch.
Then she takes flight again and...

Giving Thanks

T rust
H elping hand
A ll my family
N ew opportunities
K nowledge
S upper
G randparents
I t all
V ikings
I taly
N oise
G od

A Couple of Opinions.

My opinions right now I am thinking about that might not be welcome:

1. Why are people saying 'Oh, maybe Davon'?' Uh, HECK YES DAVON. Man, that brother can sing any song and make me want to close my eyes and listen. People are saying he's lousy... and if you do, you don't have a soul. Ok, that was harsh, but how can you not feel his presence? He's my winner for this season (Addison Second. Also talking about The Voice).
2. I hate that if you like one unpopular thing people immediately are like 'Wow, seriously?' Yes, seriously. Live with it.
3. People say history is not important and I just don't get that. It does not fit into my complex brain (arguable to complex it is confusing) - and people aren't interested? For me I just cannot help be interested.
4. The Giver's movie was better (shrug) maybe I just need to read the book again.
5. I...

Do You Think That Matters To Me? (1)

There were instruments playing and a chorus talking up a note, people swinging their partners around as if gliding on water or soaring in the air. Eliza stood at the back of the ballroom, watching her sister tug someone after her to the center of the dancing. Eliza sighed. A boy or two had asked her to dance and she'd given them the response, 'my legs are tired' or 'I am waiting on someone'. She hated the way some of them eyed her as a prize, an inheritance instead of... of... A girl wanting to dance. Angelica, of course, had no fear. She pulled them in and let them go just as quickly, yet they all came back. She was the eldest, and the best to marry or be with. And currently, she wasn't won over yet. Eliza prepared herself to search after one of her siblings and see if they had any luck. A creak of the door interrupted her thoughts and Eliza looked up. She watched...

Novel Writing Competition 2017

Alan

She was sitting in the foyer when she heard the news.
She had just turned on the outdoor light and had changed the batteries in the TV when her phone rang next to her. She smiled at the name- Alan- and wondered why he was up. Probably driving home from a long day at work, or maybe going to see one of his nephews, cause he had quite a few. She reclined on her cream colored chair and turned off the lamp as the moonlight slid through the shudders, smiling at the beauty as she answered the phone. "To what do I owe the pleasure-" she began, but broke off as a different voice echoed through the phone. It was Michael.
"Laura?"
"Michael?" she asked, straightening up in her chair. "What's going on?"
"Alan's dead Laura," Michael responded, a block in his throat that reverberated over the phone. They were twins, Michael and Alan- they had almost the same voice. She...

The Day (40)

 I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

Birdsong

Air Dance

She does not move yet, facing with pride into the fog.
Then-
With a surge of air compressed beneath each feather she flies into the air, twisting as she does so.
The tendrils of smoky uncertainty are nothing compared to her keen sense of direction, her joy, her fierce determination to be carried by the wind.
Swip, Swip, Swip,
The soft sound of a bird's dance intensifies.
Pitter pitter pitter is the sound of the bird slowing down as she scans for the next place to dart.
Like a choir, she flurries her wings so swiftly that in the blink of an eye she is gone, one of the figures in the fog.
Where is she? Precariously she sits on the wobbly branch unbalanced with the weight of her and a whatever else is on that hid behind a curtain of pink whiteness.
Clit Clit Clit, that is the sound of her inching along the branch.
Then she takes flight again and...

Rantism! (It's a thing)

You know when you finally have a winning team?
I mean, you get the privilege to live when your team actually starts winning games instead of having one pep rally at the beginning of the year and then stopping the next day. We are winning! Yay! Go Panthers! I'm not that into sports, mainly football, but go team!
So when I started driving past some stores and stuff I saw signs that were like 'Go Panthers!'. Which is nice, I guess. It's good. Good that they are being supported. But, and maybe its just me, does that not bother them a little bit? Like, oh, now you are on my side? Now you post up posters? When you come from a school, you can't get off that team. Its like if your parents own a Target and you go to Walmart- you just don't. We didn't need a poster- that was already slapped on our bumper stickers.
And another thing,...

Dear Britain

Dear Britain,

It's over. I'd say I'm sorry, but there have already been enough lies between us. I mean, really? You think you can just come over whenever you want, take what you want, and try to boss me around? Like when you take me out to places and make me pay? And berate me in front of your friends? Wow. I can't believe I ever fell in love with you. I've been talking to your ex, France. Seriously? Is that what you do? Butter your girlfriends up and then bring them down until they worship you. Uh, no. Get out and take your things. I mean, you had to have seen this coming! Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, didn't you hear? I guess not since your on a different hemisphere.
And one more thing baby- don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you.

Your Most Passionate Ex Nation,
America
With the Help of Your...

Consequences.

I think perhaps I find them writing romance stories as to decrease the gap of something missing in their heart and fill it instead with others' joy tenfold.

The Peace of Wild Things

I Find Peace

I find peace amidst the leaves
Fallen treasures surrounding me
The Autumn's own greaves
A piece of life now free

I find peace in the sunlit groves
Hedges upon hedges and thorns at the ready
The birds that soar above like doves
The vines that wind around the window's glass so steady.

I find peace in the rain-splattered panes
The thunder ever ominously sounding in the sky
Trees standing so tall you can see it from planes
A lightening bug who's light never seems to die.

I find peace in the snow gently falling
The rooster's sound-off to the unprepared ears
In the sand between the toes and fingers crawling
Into our shoes and socks and gears.

I find peace in this Earth created by God.
I find peace in the world's natural beauty.
I find peace even when in the snow we must plod
I find peace in the things that few see.
 

My Happier Soul

The last letter to my love:

My Happier Soul,

I know sitting here if you read this I should first of found myself in perusal of our Savior's grace firsthand. My life upon the mellowed Earth from our feet and our children's feet should have been by now not ended abruptly but flying into one in those of the Heavens, should I be allowed there among the beautiful people like yourself. I forever will love you my dearest and it would be foolish to say you are not my better half, my better person, the strength when I lacked or simply did not have it. I entreat you now to not mourn forever in your life my passing but keep on ingraining Nature with your love. Do not falter for fear of no longer having my embrace- my arms will forever be encircled tenderly around your heart, listening to the beat of life and love as it courses through us. I...

Lord

It is times like this I want to embrace strangers.
I want to tell them how truly special and precious they are.
I want to remind them of our blessings.
It is times like this that in the wake of horror, I want to scream into the void we will grow stronger.
We will not forget.
But we will not let fear win.

I don't know all their names.
In fact right now I can only recall one.
Emily.
I remember one of her family members on the news talking about her wanting to be a ballerina.

I will remember you Emily.
And wasn't there an Anne? I know that's not her full name, but I remember her picture of dark messy hair and bright dark eyes,
A beautiful smile.
I will remember you too.

I remember that mother who shielded her children.
She loved her children, her daughters and sons.
She loved them and oh how she loved the Lord. ...

The Day (40)

I woke up to see Angelica waving her hand in my face, Catherine crying in the background. "Eliza! Wake up!" she yelled.
My mind was fuzzy at first, wanting to return to my dream which had taken many turns- right now I was talking before Congress, and Alexander was defending me and we were talking to the judge, which was for some reason Angelica in a man's clothing.
It was funny, so what was the rush? Surely breakfast could- My Wedding! My Wedding was today! "The Wedding!" I yelped, pushing myself off the matress and nearly crashing into Angelica and Amelia. They were fully dressed, though Angelica only in a plain white under gown, presumably to go under the bridesmaid one. At least I hoped it was since her dress had a lot of décolletage on display already. Last night during our talks I decided Peggy would be my sister of the bride, Cornelia and Peggy my bridesmaids, and Angelica the Maid Of...

Wish I Would've Said

A couple of days ago a friend of mine was bullied in front of me.
We weren't close, really. He was nice, got my sense of nerdiness, and we talked about a Rubik Cube for a while because he had one in his pocket. It was at lunch and we had to fill in.
There were two idiots at my table that day. We'll call them Dunce and Dolt. Dunce has a piece of paper in front of him and is drawing something and seems comfortable with dropping the F word whenever he pleases. Dolt is a dramatic, psychopathic mess who can be as cruel in her words as Dunce. Anyway, my friend starts a conversation, which I strongly advise against with these two. Then they start teasing him- saying they saw someone like him in a mental hospital, saying they'd send him there, suggesting he should shut up with colorful phrases.
Dunce and Dolt finally come around when he...

Weirder

Life is hard. And I have a good life- it has ups and downs, but all in all I love my life. I am thankful for who I am, I am grateful for my life. I have regrets, but I find my regrets an experience of life. My family is amazing- amazingly quirky, but amazing as well. I know I am not the easiest person to be with. I am the person who shows up to a fancy dinner with a Harry Potter Deathly Hallows sweater. The one who is probably ruder than they mean to be because they are reading (But gossip? I'd rather read, thank you. I can't believe people would fist fight in my grade.) The one who goes up to strangers and compliments shirts, or tries to tell funny jokes (They can't be that bad, no matter what my friends say. Plus people are inclined to politely laugh so...)
But the point is, I am weird....

Numerous Narrators

Derrick and Wesley

"You aren't going to tell her Wesley, and you know it," Derrick said, trudging down the side of the trash-ridden hill. Derrick pulled up his jeans and continued down the side of the hill overlooking the city. Derrick came here all the time to overlook the town they both spent their lives in. Run-down brown buildings, newer, colorful ones, and of the course the old school on the other side of town.
His friend shook his head. "No," he said truthfully.
At least he admits it, Derrick thought to himself. He glanced at Wesley with an eyebrow raised nonetheless. "I didn't expect that."
"I know you didn't. so, how about you? You have anyone you want to dance with tomorrow? Or even talk to? You realize you don't talk at all, right?"
Derrick scowled at him. "Of course I do."
"No, you don't. I think your unibrow scares everyone away."
"I don't have a unibrow, buckteeth."
"Alright, alright. But do...

Gold, Diamond, Silver

Are you gold, diamond, or silver?
A fleet of different stones
Take a small thought to which you would be
And if your answer is the same after you read.

Gold is the showiest stone
A great conductor of ways
A sturdy, solid, yet rare treasure.
The prized unafraid to come down to Earth, it's mother,  though that needs some convincing.

Diamond cuts people, whether meaning to or not.
A rain of riches, yes, and fame.
A stone beautiful and dangerous to have
Since so many hold it above themselves.

Silver is the silent color
Silent but radiant, radiating peace, patience, and a beauty of its own.
Often overlooked,
But perhaps mistakenly so?

So who are you? Gold, Diamond, or Silver?
Or perhaps something of your own making.
 

Why Hadn't It Flown?

I didn't take my eyes off the lazy fly as it crawled up the desk of Principal Jafar. It was a such a peculiar thing- why didn't it fly? Jafar hated flies, as shown by his brusque personality towards all other living creatures besides humans. The fly should have flown away while the door is open.
"-Are you listening to me?" Principal Jafar asked incredously. I flicked my eyes up and wondered why I couldn't just go to detention already. His office was a small but bright what with the huge window behind his long desk, which was piled with globes, papers, pens, and a computer. The fluorescent lights were off but I could still see him perfectly with the abundant sunlight flooding through and illuminating his hard grimace.
"Yes sir," I answered, resisting the urge to scrub my dirty hair out of my eyes.
"Then what did I just say?" he prompted, his hair so short and stubby it...

Third Person Limited

Through This

He pressed a hand to the small of her back as they stood overlooking the river. He was never good with words. He was never the social butterfly. He never even had the guts to stand up for himself when Edward pushed him against the lockers. But he was good at other things- good at knowing when there was something to say, which he would have trouble with, and good at knowing when nothing should be said.
Nothing should be said here.
She exhaled and turned to him with watering eyes. His adopted sister never looked so torn, so open, so human. Yet in the fading pink her eyes stared with love like they had known eachother all their lives. The way she chewed her lip showed she was in thought, not giving up on thinking of more and more plans. The way she let him hug her without a wisecrack about his awkwardness like usual.
They would get through...

Michael!

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed as the world sped vertically upside the rollercoaster. She would've slapped him had she not been gripping the handles so tightly.
"Now, now, Cass-"
"I will kill you Michael Matthews. I will KILL YOU!"
Michael laughed- the only thing that gave her enough incentive to let go of the bars and let the harness do the work- as soon as they were sent over the top.
"AHHHHHH!" her hair blew backwards and she grabbed onto teh handles as the absolutely plummeted to the bottom.
Michael's chuckle died as the world spun suddenly- and it wasn't the rollercoaster. The red tracks swirled, Cassi's hair was a brown swirl, and the brilliant blue sky was a tear drop onto the whole picture.
And finally, the coaster pulled into a stop so everyone could get up and dazedly walk off with their friends who had convinced them to come on the ride. Three lanes waited, all with two...

The Holes and The Stitches

Holes.
Holes in my jeans.
Holes.
Holes in my shoes.
Holes.
Hole in my shirt.
Holes.
Holes in my heart.
Holes.
Holes in my mind.
Holes.
Holes in my courage.

Stitch.
Stitching the jeans.
Stitch.
Stitching a covering for my shoe.
Stitch.
Stitching my shirt.
Stitch.
Stitch.
Stitching a new warmer place in my heart.
Stitch.
Stitching back sanity in my mind.
Stitch.
Stitching my good courage.

 

Humans

Are there no bounds to human cruelty?
I suppose studying the Holocaust you would guess I knew that already, but it still surprises me.
Somehow, in our society, such cruelty exists.
Please Lord, do not make this so.
I know we must pray for this. For the people involved in Manhattan attack.
I read it and I cannot believe this happened, this happened on a day yesterday that was in short life changing for me.
To paint a picture for those who do not yet know...

He peddled along the sidewalk, wondering if his aunt would wait for the party until the guest of honor got there- him. He pulled to the side of the road and dug clumsily into his blue pack for his cellphone. He hoped it had some battery power left after all the stopwatch use he'd had throughout the day- his speed had not improved anyway.
Then something caught his eye- just a flicker of something...

Transition Through Time

Yolo.
Today I wanted to bring to your attention a question I asked myself and novilistinthedark (check 'em out) asked.
The question is this: How do you transition a story into years ahead?
This is a daunting question, and so I will try to do it through examples.

__
She looked down the table and saw the Headmistress overlooking her new students. The headmistress had a nose than reminded her of a crow's foot, dark eyes that seemed to know everything, and small lips that might've have been beautiful up close other than the stiff hard line she saw from her seat. The hall was a long, beige color and a big chandelier was it's centerpiece hanging over the students' table. The teachers sat at their own table altogether, all looking at the headmistress dutifully with self-taught patience while she cleared her throat five minutes straight. "Hello," she said in a stiff, unfriendly voice the girl knew she would learn...

Distraction.

Distraction
By: Bree

Why will fate not distract me?
Is it so important to keep me in this pendulum?
Swinging aimlessly between love and misery
Forgetting what side of it I had come from.

Please, prove to me, romance, you are not idle fixtures
And grant me freedom, for that is the only way your reputation will remain in tact.
Why do you taunt me with these romantic's pictures?
I thought that after all these failed crushes you and I had made a pact.

Now you have done the unthinkable to me.
Leaving me gasping for air from your embrace.
Let me go, set me free!
I will not let you take me entirely from my place.

Enough with you.
I'm leaving and will ignore you from my life for a while.
Your promises are too empty and too few
I'm too far gone to reconcile.
 

Would It Be So Wrong?

Would it be so wrong to love the one in blue?
Who's hair is either strung up high or has simply gone askew?

Would it be wrong to love the one with complex jokes?
Who's self is sustained by crackers, gummies, and cokes?

Would it be wrong to love the awkward one with low esteem?
Who's face is either hidden or with excitement teem?

Would it be so wrong?
And then, would it be right if it wasn't wrong?
Or am I simply the coexistant mixture or love and friendship?

Don't See Me

I bet you don't see me.
I see you wherever you are, across the hallway, walking over the grass, heading to class, stopping at lockers. I see you amidst the bundles of people, integrating yourself without even trying whereas it has become so hard for me, so awkward. I see you laugh at your own jokes like I do and recall stories that always seems to out do everyone else. I am in awe of your style. I am longing for your company. I am wishing I was the one you preferred to hang around.
I bet you don't see me, though.
 

Revision

Stop, stop, stop.
This is all wrong.
What do you think you're doing?
Get that down!

Alright, silly,
That's better
Yes, good job.
But don't start preening yet!

Alright, yes, erase that.
This is better now, right?
Wrong!
We have much work to do so stop nodding along and get your head in the game.

Oh shush!
You know I'm write
Ha, get it?
Well don't stop to stare if you're not going to laugh!

Yes! That is how we do it!
Just add that comma instead of an and because it will take the place.
See? You remember even when those kids wouldn't listen to you.
I know your smart, not just fluff between your ears

That was not an invitation to stray from the task.
Gosh, you can't be bragging yet!
Come on, we've got work to do!
I am this close to loosing my patience with you and your under appreciation for my jokes.

Not funny?
I'll...

Revision

Stop, stop, stop.
This is all wrong.
What do you think your doing?
Get that down!

Alright, silly,
That's better
Yes, good job.
But don't start preening yet!

Alright, yes, erase that.
This is better now, right?
Wrong!
We have much work to do so stop nodding along and get your head in the game.

Oh shush!
You know I'm write
Ha, get it?
Well don't stop to stare if your not going to laugh!

Yes! That is how we do it!
Just add that comma instead of an and because it will take the place.
See? You remember even when those kids wouldn't listen to you.
I know your smart, not just fluff between your ears

That was not an invitation to stray from the task.
Gosh, you can't be bragging yet!
Come on, we've got work to do!
I am this close to loosing my patience with you and your under appreciation for my jokes.

Not funny?
I'll...

A Love Letter

Loved,

How beautiful you are. Your eyes, the green color not of trees or grass or anything but your own shade. I find myself paralyzed by them, the warmth in them, the complex thoughts you must be thinking I could only imagine. How was I destined to meet in my lifetime such a breathtaking person? And will you consider me foolish if I did not immediately recognize your beauty but found it when only after I dared to speak a word to you? And once I did, would you think it foolish of me to have been dazed with a staggering heartbeat?
And if so, I am a fool! I suppose I shall be one if only to see you smile when I say it.
So what holds me back?
Why don't I tell you?
Why don't I forward this message to you?
I stop my hands from doing it because of fear. Fear holds me back, I am ashamed...

Orphan (39)

"So!" Aunt Rosette said, taking a sip of her water. "Eliza, how are you?"
We sat with only fourteen chairs for the twenty of us, and it sure wasn't comfortable. Father, Mother with Catherine, Aunt Belinda, Aunt Rosette, Aunt Hildegarde, Uncle Richard, and Uncle Spencer each had their own seats while the rest of us squashed together; Rensselaer and Phillip, James and Robert, John and Thomas, Angelica and Amelia, Peggy and Cornelia, then Lydia and I. "I'm well, how are you," I said.
"Good!" she answered. "So! We are all just dying to know, who is this man you're marrying?"
James and Robert snorted like they wanted to hear anything but a girl go on about a boy but knew better than to say anything from the look Aunt Hildegarde was giving them. I glanced at Peggy, Cornelia, and Angelica who stared looked back at me, waiting for what I would say. "Well, his name is Alexander."
"Oh! I love...

Messengers and Drunkards (29)

"Cornelia, thank you," I told her while we finished up the last of the letters. It was midday and Mother wanted me to go to the Church where we would be married and point out the seating arrangements. But to me it seemed like overkill when I had letters to finish. "I'll go!" Angelica had volunteered instantly, Peggy's hopeful face appearing next to hers.
So off they had gone. Aunt Belinda was eating lunch as far as I knew and lecturing Mother and Father why Rensselaer should join the cause. And that left Phillip and John to themselves, doing another favor which they'd refused to tell us about. So that meant it was only me and Cornelia. "Cornelia?" I asked, seeing her face.
She seemed withdrawn once we were alone, which really surprised me. I thought I was close to all my sisters individually- no, I knew I was. What was bothering her? Cornelia looked up and forced a smile quickly...

The Art of Specificity

Girl


A girl walking down the hall.

The girl in her floppy hat and blue sweater carefully navigates down the crowded hallway, not wanting the books to go flying because of one miscalculated step.

In a floppy yellow hat that lightens up the boorish atmosphere of school after summer and a cotton navy blue sweater, the girl walks down the hall clinging to her binders and books with a heavy orange backpack. Despite all the colors she stays to the side of the hall- who knew what people would think of her? One step in the wrong direction might mean she could trip over someone, or trip someone herself. No, she had to be careful and stay on the outside of the life-long friends goofing around.
 

The Art of Specificity

Girl


A girl walking down the hall.

The girl in her floppy hat and blue sweater carefully navigates down the crowded hallway, not wanting the books to go flying because of one miscalculated step.

In a floppy yellow hat that lightens up the boorish atmosphere of school after summer and a cotton navy blue sweater, the girl walks down the hall clinging to her binders and books with a heavy orange backpack. Despite all teh colors she stays to the side of the hall- who knew what people would think of her? One step in the wrong direction might mean she could trip over someone, or trip someone herself. No, she had to be careful and stay on the outside of the life-long friends goofing around.
 

Why Hadn't It Flown?

I didn't take my eyes off the lazy fly as it crawled up the desk of Principal Jafar. It was a such a peculiar thing- why didn't it fly? Jafar hated flies, as shown by his brusque personality towards all other living creatures besides humans. The fly should have flown away while the door is open.
"-Are you listening to me?" Principal Jafar asked incredously. I flicked my eyes up and wondered why I couldn't just go to detention already. His office was a small but bright what with the huge window behind his long desk, which was piled with globes, papers, pens, and a computer. The fluorescent lights were off but I could still see him perfectly with the abundant sunlight flooding through and illuminating his hard grimace.
"Yes sir," I answered, resisting the urge to scrub my dirty hair out of my eyes.
"Then what did I just say?" he prompted, his hair so short and stubby it...

The Art of Specificity

Girl

I didn't take my eyes off the lazy fly as it crawled up the desk of Principal Jafar. It was a such a peculiar thing- why didn't it fly? Jafar hated flies, as shown by his brusque personality towards all other living creatures besides humans. The fly should have flown away while the door is open.
"-Are you listening to me?" Principal Jafar asked incredously. I flicked my eyes up and wondered why I couldn't just go to detention already. His office was a small but bright what with the huge window behind his long desk, which was piled with globes, papers, pens, and a computer. The fluorescent lights were off but I could still see him perfectly with the abundant sunlight flooding through and illuminating his hard grimace.
"Yes sir," I answered, resisting the urge to scrub my dirty hair out of my eyes.
"Then what did I just say?" he prompted, his hair so short and stubby it...

Chapter One: Well, My Name Is Billy and I Am Regretting Some Life Choices Right Now

    So Ears, huh? Nice to have, and I guess my mother wanted a second pair because she had a grip like iron, tugging me to my room. "Charles!" she shrieked shrilly, calling for my father.
    My father was a tall, big man with a fists that he loved to hammer on the coffee table when he was rowdy. Quite contrasting to my mother, who had slender fingers that could pick locks. I'd inherited hers, which was dead useful, cause I was all about picking locks. "Charles, your son has been to the Hartheer's shed!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.
   "Billy!" he rumbled.
    Yeah, I know, but it's Billy, and I was kinda proud of my name. Reminded me of Billy the Kid. My father lumbered into view as I entered my room, which was full of vases that my great aunt insisted on giving me. My father sat on my red bed wearing a classic Charles flannel shirt. "Billy!"...

The Last

A fiery bird soars over the desolate battlefield. Are there any survivors? Were they all dead, gone, ashes of the volcanic island they fought on? The bird looks and scans for any sign of movement on either side, any at all. Was there truly no survivors?
There! The bird wings towards a fallen woman struggling to stand. The woman has white-blond hair matted top her face by grime, her uniform covered in the black mud and red blood of the battlefield.
She clutched her head and a trail of blood drips out of her mouth, a thin red line compared to the crimson ocean around her. The bird screeches, a gentle song dancing through it's beak into the air. The beat of the Standins- her side. His side. Their side. "Who..." she croaks and spots the flaming bird swooping towards her.
The bird hovers beside her as she blinks wearily and looks around, stifling gasps. "No.... no.... I can't be...

Why I Write

Writer

Now I could say many things here.
I could be totally justified in saying I write to escape.
I could say I write because of my hands flying, needing something to do with them, which would be acceptable.
I could tell you I write because I feel the need to create these new worlds, these new ideas and share them to keep my mind from bothering me until I do, and I would be telling the truth.
I could tell you I write because my nature is my nature and my passion is my passion. In fact I believe this to be most true.
I could also go as far as to say I write because we survive off of literature and language and education, like it or not.
I could say to spread a message.
I could say to find myself.
I could say to make other people enjoy it.
I could say to inspire, though this is probably...

An Introductory

"Well I said that you said you were on your way to the party," I explained for the fourth time to the cashier in the traditional blue apron. She stared at me- I guessed she was in her fifties, some old dented glasses just not enough to cover her judging eyes. Rudely enough, she barely made an attempt to hide her judgement. I glanced at her nametag for the eighth time out of boredom while she rolled her tongue, preparing herself to repeat the same mantra over and over again.
"Sir," she droned. "There is no party. There is no one to tell. I simply asked if you had any more money because this is not enough to pay."
"Sure it is."
"If you take off some items."
"But you see, I said that you said you were on your way to the party," I persisted. If we were in a bank she would've pushed the emergency button under the...

Dialogue Dexterity

Phone Call

"Hello?"
"Tyson?"
"Oh Lord, Ally, are you alright? Why are you answering your Father's phone?"
"Tyson, I don't know where they are. I don't know where anyone is- I can't find anyone and I just picked this up-"
"It's ok, it's ok. Where are you?"
"I'm on the side of the road- Salisbury Street, and I-I think something awful has just happened."
"How did you get there? Ok, Ally, explain everything slowly. Take a breath sweetheart"
"I just... I was with my parents and there was a man on the side of the road and we pulled over to help and then the man hit Dad and he got into the car...."
"Take a breath sweetheart"
"..."
"Did he knock you out?"
"Yes"
"And was he-"
"I don't know! I just woke up and my Dad's phone is in my pocket. He let me borrow it to play games in the car and... and I don't want to be with...

Couldn't Believe It

He couldn't believe it.
He roamed the bookshelves aimlessly and wondered why the revelation had just hit him now. He felt his breathing hitch and he grabbed the spine of one of his favorites- John McLaren- for support. Could this be? This couldn't be. This was just a... just a thought. It would go away if he ignored it, after time. Wouldn't it? But then... why, whenever he thought of Haley, was there a flutter in his stomach? Why was there a kick in his throat, why was there a smile that seemed to spread like fire?
He gulped a mass of air.
He couldn't believe it.
But at the same time, he could.
And he wanted to.

Why I Write

Writer

Now I could say many things here.
I could be totally justified in saying I write to escape.
I could say I write because of my hands flying, needing something to do with them, which would be acceptable.
I could tell you I write because I feel the need to create these new worlds, these new ideas and share them to keep my mind from bothering me until I do, and I would be telling the truth.
I could tell you I write because my nature is my nature and my passion is my passion. In fact I believe this to be most true.
I could also go as far as to say I write because we survive off of literature and language and education, like it or not.
I could say to spread a message.
I could say to find myself.
I could say to make other people enjoy it.
I could say to inspire, though this is probably...

Cautionary Tale

I will not dally the purpose of my story with complimentary items.
So let's begin, shall we? Unless you want to maintain the perfect world you suppose you live in. If so, be my guest and don't let it hit you where the good Lord split you.
I will set the scene- imagine a beautiful girl. One with ample curls and such a square neck there was no need for a slit down the center, a small face with strong features of bright, abundantly blue eyes and a nose with nostrils that seemed to flare whenever she breathed, painting her the picture of a small daring fawn in a meadow, prancing on unknown grounds. Then there is a man with a strong set of shoulders, always in form but not so much he would be seen as nervous. Long brown hair pulled into a ponytail that encircled the nape of his neck, and blue eyes that seemed to match her...

Question

How do I copywright things?

Ill

"Hold still," the doctor said impatiently, gesturing for the neighbor, Ann, to hold the boy down. She bit her lip, unwilling to touch the two people lying and wailing in the bed. The boy looked up and shook his head once- and he did look the smarter of the four of them, crammed in the same room. But she had to comply with the doctor- he knew what was best.
She half-closed her eyes and then grabbed his legs, forcing them open. Weakly, he tried to swat her hand away, tried to get away. She closed her eyes for what happened next, but the boy's screams were enough.
She clenched her jaw, feeling his whole small, lanky body shuddering, quaking under her grip, screaming while the doctor worked. He seemed to be ripping his lungs inside himself, and his weak body suddenly kicked into gear, nearly sending a foot crashing into her abdomen. "Still!" the doctor commanded angrily. She gripped...

Interview

He was a tall man with a width of a toothpick, very thin. I scooted over in my booth but he took a seat on the other side anyway.  I refused to let myself be discouraged. "Hello Mr. Freire! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Amanda Ricco, a newspaper reporter-"
"I know who you are," he stated quietly, his voice sounding constricted. His face was red, his eyes watery and a few picked sores were shown on his hands as he crossed them on the yellow table. I chose the diner of highway 48 in hopes it might brighten him up, what with all the colors and jazzy songs. But he seemed just as cordial as ever in a black suit and tie, a gold ring on his finger along with a new red one that looked like it was made in arts and crafts.
I cleared my throat when he continued staring at me but seemingly past me...

Interview

He was a tall man with a width of a toothpick, very thin. I scooted over in my booth but he took a seat on the other side anyway.  I refused to let myself be discouraged. "Hello Mr. Freire! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Amanda Ricco, a newspaper reporter-"
"I know who you are," he stated quietly, his voice sounding constricted. His face was red, his eyes watery and a few picked sores were shown on his hands as he crossed them on the yellow table. I chose the diner of highway 48 in hopes it might brighten him up, what with all the colors and jazzy songs. But he seemed just as cordial as ever in a black suit and tie, a gold ring on his finger along with a new red one that looked like it was made in arts and crafts.
I cleared my throat when he continued staring at me but seemingly past me...

Stale Bread

It's stale bread.
We sit on the truck, looking wondering at each other at the ability to travel and stretch our legs in front of us, to have our own space and our own clothes that hasn't belonged to some other person before.
I am being known by a name again, a title instead of a number. It is Daniel. I am regaining dignity- if someone saw me I was entitled a wave, a greeting. I have a home, though I don't want to go there. Want! That was another gift! I was allowed to have wants. I was given a hug from an American and he forgave me for collapsing on the way to the truck. He helped me up.
 We were given our own sandwiches. 
With meat! Meat and sauce and bread. Good bread with no trace of mold or hair! 
It's stale bread. 
And I am so grateful.

Sports Journalism Competition 2017

Sportsmanship

A Good Sportsman.

What matters the sport?
Whether it be field or court?
If there is no good sportsmanship?
Do you see the story's blip?

A man could be the best of the best
And to this he could easily attest.
But if he is to make fun of the other
Would that not be the same as a bully to another?

And should the loser of that game,
Whether an off-day or pressure of fame,
Demand false unfair play and forsake honor
Is there fun in a battle of 'he already caught her?'

Fun though it may be
To taunt and make them all see
How a team won, what is the fun
For the one who was the point of the pun?

Sportsmanship, rightly sought
Whether it be a sport or not
Is something to heed and consider most greatly
Before they allow one's tongue to be free.
 

Stale Bread

It's stale bread.
We sit on the truck, looking wondering at eachother at the ability to travel and stretch our legs in front of us, to have our own space and out own clothes that hasn't belonged to some other person before.
I am being known by a name again, a title instead of a number. It is Daniel. I am regaining dignity- if someone saw me I was entitled a wave, a greeting. I have a home, though I don't want to go there. Want! That was another gift! I was allowed to have wants. I was given a hug from an American and he forgave me to collapsing on the way to the truck. He helped me up.
 We were given our own sandwiches. 
With meat! Meat and sauce and bread. Good bread with no trace of mold or hair! 
It's stale bread. 
And I am so grateful.

Suspicions (36)

"Sir," I told Washington as the Generals started to arrive. Knox, Greene in his arm sling, Arnold, more and more kept on coming. "Sir, there is something I want to ask from you-"
"Not now Hamilton," Washington responded, looking over at his friends. I could see him checking boxes in his head for the people he would trust his life with... all of them as they filed in the house we'd taken from the late Tarrygold for meeting, It was a humble place, three rooms that blended together. The kitchen and dining room and then the place where we were meeting, the living area right next to the bedding area. It didn't feel right meeting in the house of a dead man, but it was his son who had allowed us. It was inside the Fort, near the heart of it actually, and a place guaranteed to keep out unwanted visitors.
But I wasn't the only aide-de-camp member present- Knox...

Do You Think That Matters To Me? (1)

There were instruments playing and a chorus talking up a note, people swinging their partners around as if gliding on water or soaring in the air. Eliza stood at the back of the ballroom, watching her sister tug someone after her to the center of the dancing. Eliza sighed. A boy or two had asked her to dance and she'd given them the response, 'my legs are tired' or 'I am waiting on someone'. She hated the way some of them eyed her as a prize, an inheritance instead of... of... A girl wanting to dance. Angelica, of course, had no fear. She pulled them in and let them go just as quickly, yet they all came back. She was the eldest, and the best to marry or be with. And currently, she wasn't won over yet. Eliza prepared herself to search after one of her siblings and see if they had any luck. A creak of the door interrupted her thoughts and Eliza looked up. She watched...

Pounding

So many people crowded around her, pressing their bodies, not caring who they grazed with their sides or who they nearly knocked over with swinging hips. She drew a breath, knowing she was supposed to entertain the crowd, answer their questions. Suppose to smile for the cameras and sign notebooks- which she truly was grateful for. But she wished her journey could just have one pause, one break outside of the eye of the crowd. And then it started, the pounding. She hated it- it happened more and more often now because there were no breaks in between the constant brushing up of makeup so no one would see the circles under her eyes to take the antidepressants. And here it was to strike again in the middle of her meeting.
"Pardon," she said politely to the CIA looking guard. "I must go to the ladies room, for a moment, would you excuse me?"
He nodded and began announcing to the...

Sisters (38)

I stared at Angelica in shock for a minute until she spotted me. She and Peggy had moved on to another topic like they had gone over it thousands of times... the rest was a blur. Her calling my name, me dashing outside where Rensselaer was moving some chairs in the dim light, Anthem nearly crashing into me as I ran to the horse stables where Angelica wouldn't look first, a small place with the two horses in the front, some space for more, and a bundle of hay in the back where some tools were also kept. Not John. Alexander. What else could that mean but... but that she loved him, too?
So this was why Angelica hadn't come to me. This was what she had been trying to tell me. This is why Peggy had felt so guilty. This is why she had said her heart was given away. She loved him. Probably from the moment she first introduced us... she...

Prayers

You're sitting in the third row on the seventh seat away from the aisle with your friends, Chelsea and Bernard on either side of you, a couple of giggling girls in front of you. "Look at him up there on the stage.... ah, he is so cute," one of them with almond hair fawns, readjusting purple sunglasses to swing around her neck.
"Yeah, look at the fireworks! Maybe they'll spell my name in big letters- C-a-m-i-l-l-e!" says a black-haired girl excitedly.
You smile at your friends and tug their shirts too. "Look at the fireworks," you say having not really looked at them yourself.
Chelsea whips her dark head around and purses her lips. "There isn't a firework in sight."
"I think you're going a little slaphappy," Bernard admonished. You look up and, sure enough, there is nothing but cool sky over the festival.
But you hear a popping noise- continuous, surely there had to be fireworks somewhere. Or maybe it...

Bachelor Party (37)

Mulligan, Laurens, Lafayette and I crowded around a table just outside of a secluded tent, some wine on the table, some on my friends, and some in the place it was supposed to be- a bottle. I eyed it and wondered if I should drink- I wasn't a drinker. But... just a little couldn't hurt. Even then I measured it carefully, meticulously, before setting the rest of my bottle down. A haze appeared and my face felt like a...a... I couldn't even find the word.  "Washington let you have it?"
"No," Laurens said while nodding his head up and down. "Washington has nothing to do with our actions."
Lafayette gurgled suddenly and reached across the table to grab Mulligan's arm. "Have a nice wedding!" He hollered drunkenly.
"It's not me, Marquis," Mulligan reminded before taking another swig of his. "That's..." he went cross-eyed momentarily and pointed over to a shrub.
"Me!" I supplied helpfully, and Lafayette reached over, shaking my shoulder on...

Suspicions (36)

"Sir," I told Washington as the Generals started to arrive. Knox, Greene in his arm sling, Arnold, more and more kept on coming. "Sir, there is something I want to ask from you-"
"Not now Hamilton," Washington responded, looking over at his friends. I could see him checking boxes in his head for the people he would trust his life with... all of them as they filed in the house we'd taken from the late Tarrygold for meeting, It was a humble place, three rooms that blended together. The kitchen and dining room and then the place where we were meeting, the living area right next to the bedding area. It didn't feel right meeting in the house of a dead man, but it was his son who had allowed us. It was inside the Fort, near the heart of it actually, and a place guaranteed to keep out unwanted visitors.
But I wasn't the only aide-de-camp member present- Knox...

The Schuyler Sisters! (35)

"So the wedding is t- tomorrow?" I asked in growing panic. Father nodded and then quickly moved to take Catherine. "We all need to get ready, I managed to tell the messengers to change the date of the wedding. Hopefully everyone will be able to make it."
The world seemed to sway- my wedding? Tomorrow? Surely Mother wouldn't agree to that, surely that couldn't be possible. I had barely prepared anything! What was I supposed to do, stay up into the night? And then not celebrate at all? Would I get any sleep at all tonight? And was Alexander even alive to get the message Father intended to send him? If so was he hurt at all, wounded? Oh Lord, was my fiancée even going to be alive to come tomorrow?
I didn't realize I was falling until the world was nearly horizontal. "Eliza!" Angelica cried out, grabbing my arm and nearly pulling it out of socket while she helped...

An Adjustment (34)

What happened after the navy arrived might've looked like a win for us. I was almost  able to fool myself too, but deeper, I knew that this was far from over. The British had retreated a bit amidst the new cannon and gunfire - their ships pulling back slightly. But we could all still see the masts lurking in the distance, waiting for a chance to launch into action again. Our navy sat in our harbors, on the watch and assuring us all that the battle wasn't a victory yet. We could chase them, I thought- and who knows, we might win. But odds were, if we pursued them on the water, we would be the ones retreating. I looked at the papers Washington had gotten for me and wondered how to compress everything that had happened on the small sheet.
Mulligan and I were given credit for the cannon idea, but since I was occupied writing even as men slept from battle and buried the...

A Wedding? (33)

Angelica, Peggy and I ran and didn't stop until we were in the living room. I ran and couldn't help but wrap my arms around Rensselaer, my brother, and hug him. Aunt Belinda, Rensselaer, Cornelia and Catherine had all been playing a game it seemed, but Rensselaer gave a surprised, almost relieved squeak when I interrupted them with a hug. "Eliza? Is something wrong?"
"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Peggy cried out while Angelica took a seat by Catherine and lifted the baby up. "Angelica, Eliza, and I were attacked!"
"Let me at 'em!" Aunt Belinda said shrilly, stomping her cane on the ground as she wobbled to her feet at the same time that Rensselaer's face went white. I stepped back- Rensselaer never looked that way, not for a very long time. The only time he had before was when he'd had enough of a boy's teasing when he was eight. "All of you?"
"It wasn't that bad Peggy,"...

Omniscient Lens

Who Else?

An old lonely pier sits on the edge of civilization, wood chipped and wet with consuming waves. Cars and planes and trains and even tricycles drive, fly, ride, and peddle done the streets next to the pier. Tis a wonder who even goes out on that old pier with all it's peeling wood and rusted metal where bars had been to keep people over three feet from falling off and seeming like a doorway to people under 2.9. It doesn't look it, but it would be stable enough to support a circus complete with lions and tigers and bears. Then under the water, there's almost an opaque gleam of tinsel. What could be there under that pier? And if no one goes on it, who would find out?
Well who else but the boy with red socks who rolled onto the hard wood January 3rd, 1978?

Unconfirmed Confirmation (20)

"Sir," I ask Washington as I sit and chart out the plans for tomorrow's attack. It's a complicated one with lots of surprising pull throughs, but I have a feeling we could do it if we acted without further warning to the redcoats. We charge from the west of one of their bigger camps and would take it from there with multiple smaller attacks that would join the bigger army in force. It was a good plan Knox had come up with- I wish I had come up with it instead of having to review and calculate the numbers. "The General you hired, when is he to take position?"
Washington looked up from writing a letter with an M on the envelope, obviously meant for Martha Washington. "General Lee will take his place once we go through the next two battles and General Tucker is off to South Carolina."
"Is it General Charles Lee, sir?"
Washington nodded and started to...

A Wedding? (33)

Angelica, Peggy and I ran and didn't stop until we were in the living room. I ran and couldn't help but wrap my arms around Rensselaer, my brother, and hug him. Aunt Belinda, Rensselaer, Cornelia and Catherine had all been playing a game it seemed, but Rensselaer gave a surprised, almost relieved squeak when I interrupted them with a hug. "Eliza? Is something wrong?"
"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Peggy cried out while Angelica took a seat by Catherine and lifted the baby up. "Angelica, Eliza, and I were attacked!"
"Let me at 'em!" Aunt Belinda said shrilly, stomping her cane on the ground as she wobbled to her feet at the same time that Rensselaer's face went white. I stepped back- Rensselaer never looked that way, not for a very long time. The only time he had before was when he'd had enough of a boy's teasing when he was eight. "All of you?"
"It wasn't that bad Peggy,"...

Heat of Battle (32)

"Fire again!" I yelled to Mulligan as we crouched on the docks. The rest of the cannons Mulligan and I took in two trips, and then Mulligan had loaded the cannonballs inside fire after fire.
We'd taken down about three ships and had then been obligated to move when one of their cannons blew a part of the dock to smithereens. Right now we were still on the dock, but the other side from where we had been standing. Safer, but farther away so it was harder to aim. "Mulligan, are we ready to fire again?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. Mulligan apparently wasn't, still adjusting the cannon's trajectory. "Hammie, go tell Washington our progress and send a troop down here!" Mulligan yelled while leaping from range of the possible back-fire explosion that might occur.
The silver sphere launched into the air and swung toward the mast of a British ship. It struck the ship's mast which rocked precariously...

Rescue (31)

"Angelica? Peggy?" I called as the door cracked open, the sound like a gavel swinging. It was cold inside, and only a few candles were the only light as it was only gloomy clouds' light in the windows. The pews were perfectly in line like soldiers, stiff wooden benches with no seating staring at the front where a podium for the Church Official stood. I saw no sign of my sisters anywhere. Maybe they in one of the back rooms? Hesitantly, I went inside and let the door close behind me. "Angelica?" I called again, feeling cold. "Peggy?"
I walked down the pews quickly, feeling more eerie while I stood here alone. "Girls!" I complained.
The side door opened all the sudden and Peggy shot out of it, looking like a frightened hare. "Eliza!" She said, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug.
"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly feeling more relief and at home. Peggy shivered. "We've seen all...

A Darkness Looming (17)

I walked dazedly back to the living room where Alexander and I had told each other stories. Everyone occupied it now. Peggy writing something, probably to the young man who had caused her to walk around somberly all day, Phillip, lying next to John, drawing something out on the ground, Mother reading something with an impassive face, Father next to her, not looking, and Cornelia... I pause and look at my parents again, not immediately seeking out Angelica and Cornelia and Rensselaer and Catherine. They stare at the sheet of paper, and a flash of fear crosses Mother's face. What was on the paper?
I walk behind them where the sit on the couch and peer over their shoulders, reading as quickly as I could before they cut me off. Be informed Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler that in present times there are dangerous raids-
"Elizabeth!" Father demanded harshly, standing. "You were not permitted to read that letter."
I blink and...

Rescue (31)

"Angelica? Peggy?" I called as the door cracked open, the sound like a gavel swinging. It was cold inside, and only a few candles provided light with little help from the gloomy clouds' light in the windows. The pews were perfectly in line like soldiers, stiff wooden benches with no seating staring at the front where a podium for the Church Official stood. I saw no sign of my sisters anywhere. Maybe they in one of the back rooms? Hesitantly, I went inside and let the door close behind me. "Angelica?" I called again, feeling cold. "Peggy?"
I walked down the pews quickly, feeling more eerie while I stood here alone. "Girls!" I complained.
The side door opened all the sudden and Peggy shot out of it, looking like a frightened hare. "Eliza!" She said, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug.
"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly feeling more relief and at home. Peggy shivered. "We've seen all sorts of...

The Back Up Plan (30)

The sun is a glass ornament hanging over a scene you'd have to see to believe. Red and white stand side by side, arm in arm as they march against us, black muzzles of muskets are spotted being raised or brought down, filling the air with blood and smoke. A fleet of ships wait precariously in the harbor, the masts like trees with no tops. A floating forest lying in plain sight with ship hands running from cannon to cannon, loading the silver balls of metal. We prepare for the worst battle of our lives, a battle in which the men standing in formation around me will come out of scathed if not dead.
And here I stand with no musket, no squadron I belong too, and no idea where my General is. Mulligan glanced at my back and shook his head with a low whistle. "You'd better go get that Hammie. From the looks of it it's more of a...

Messengers and Drunkards (29)

"Cornelia, thank you," I told her while we finished up the last of the letters. It was midday and Mother wanted me to go totthe Church where we would be married and point out the seating arrangements. But to me it seemed like overkill when I had letters to finish. "I'll go!" Angelica had volunteered instantly, Peggy's hopeful face appearing next to hers.
So off they had gone. Aunt Belinda was eating lunch as far as I knew and lecturing Mother and Father why Rensselaer should join the cause. And that left Phillip and John to themselves, doing another favor which they'd refused to tell us about. So that meant it was only me and Cornelia. "Cornelia?" I asked, seeing her face.
She seemed withdrawn once we were alone, which really surprised me. I thought I was close to all my sisters individually- no, I knew I was. What was bothering her? Cornelia looked up and forced a smile quickly on...

Messengers and Drunkards (29)

"Cornelia, thank you," I told her while we finished up the last of the letters. It was midday and Mother wanted to take me to the Church where we would be married and point out the seating arrangements. But to me it seemed like overkill when I had letters to finish. "I'll go!" Angelica had volunteered instantly, Peggy's hopeful face appearing next to hers.
So off they had gone. Aunt Belinda was eating lunch as far as I knew and lecturing Mother and Father why Rensselaer should join the cause. And that left Phillip and John to themselves, doing another favor which they'd refused to tell us about. So that meant it was only me and Cornelia. "Cornelia?" I asked, seeing her face.
She seemed withdrawn once we were alone, which really surprised me. I thought I was close to all my sisters individually- no, I knew I was. What was bothering her? Cornelia looked up and forced a smile quickly...

Fort Washington (28)

The messenger arrived just as I was finishing up a letter to Eliza. He was pale, a gaunt face staring at me through horror-filled eyes. "Col. Hamilton, sir," he breathed. "You'd better come quickly."
I dropped my quill in the inkwell and stood but he nodded towards the paper and quill. "You'll need that sir."
I grabbed them impatiently. What had happened? Was It Laurens? Lafayette? Mulligan? Washington? Oh my friends, among the men I'd given the speech to. I looked at the messenger and wondered if he had been among them. "What-"
"The battle is not going well, sir. The first battalion was almost completely wiped out. Then Lieutenant Colonel Laurens was left with only thirty of 150 men and joined onto Lieutenant Colonel Stevenson's squadron. They-"
"But Lieutenant Colonel Laurens is alive?" I interrupted while we went outside. It was abuzz with men jogging down in the direction of the Hudson, worry written on their faces, fully prepared for battle. The...

Fort Washington (28)

The messenger arrived just as I was finishing up a letter to Eliza. He was pale, a gaunt face staring at me through horror-filled eyes. "Col. Hamilton, sir," he breathed. "You'd better come quickly."
I dropped my quill in the inkwell and stood but he nodded towards the paper and quill. "You'll need that sir."
I grabbed them impatiently. What had happened? Was It Laurens? Lafayette? Mulligan? Washington? Oh my friends, among the men I'd given the speech to. I looked at the messenger and wondered if he had been among them. "What-"
"The battle is not going well, sir. The first battalion was almost completely wiped out. Then Lieutenant Colonel Laurens was left with only thirty of 150 men and joined onto Lieutenant Colonel Stevenson's squadron. They-"
"But Lieutenant Colonel Laurens is alive?" I interrupted while we went outside. It was abuzz with men jogging down in the direction of the Hudson, worry written on their faces, fully prepared for battle. The...

Ask Michael

Help?

So I am wanting to get into playwriting and screenwriting (mostly plays). I was wondering if you had any ideas f how to get inspiration?

Then another, what is the correct amount of dynamics to add to an antagonist to make them have a redeeming quality?

Ask Michael

Help?

So I am wanting to get into playwriting and screenwriting (mostly plays). I was wondering if you had any ideas f how to get inspiration?

My Family (27)

"Belinda!" Mother opened her arms to her older sister and Belinda half-hugged her before dragging her stumpy cane back to support her. "Catherine," she greeted scratchily. "Where is the rest of your clan?"
The rest of us were in the other room, frantically writing letters or thinking of what was to be served. John and Phillip were the only other ones missing. We'd gotten up early this morning and when Aunt Belinda first got here she had almost fainted into sleep. But now it was morning. If I remember correctly, Cornelia hadn't met her yet and of course not Catherine. "Ok, now we are going to be very kind to Aunt Belinda," Angelica whispered, but then smirked. "Beware her cane."
Angelica opened the door of our room and found Aunt Belinda standing in the hallway with Mother and Father. "Aunt Belinda!" Angelica greeted happily.
Aunt Belinda was a stout woman with tan skin, quite contrasting to the powdered women, and had...

Speech (26)

"Hamilton, you'll remain at camp and catch a boat to Fort Lee," Washington told me for the eighth time, and I wasn't exaggerating because I was counting. Nevertheless, my shoulders slumped again and I nodded resignedly. "Yes sir, I know."
Washington and I were atop steeds, facing an assembling army in front of Fort Washington which we had crossed into in the light of morning, riding to our destination. I had wanted to come and help Washington deliver the speech, but now I just felt like a thorn in the side to have to check on to make sure I was there. That and it reminded me just how unhelpful I was to the battle. I sat in my desk day after day and longed to be riding in on a horse just like the one under me, musket in hand, firing. Or even one of the boys who dug the trenches, couldn't I be one of those? I wanted to...

A Dress (25)

Dear Aunt Belinda,

I wrinkled my nose at the memory of who I was writing. Aunt Belinda was half-deaf, a shouter, and walked with a wobbly cane that never missed the Schuyler Family's toes. What would be the best way to put to her that her little 'ElizaBETH' as she put it, slowly rising in her voice, was getting married? Well, at least it was a letter instead of saying it to her in person. I imagined her eyes bulging out from behind her spectacles and her cane going all over the place with a small smile. She was a blunt little old lady and so I was going to be. Blunt that was.

You will be happy to know that I, your Elizabeth, am getting married on the fourteenth of this month. It is with hope I invite you to attend! Please come to the Trinity Church where Alexander Hamilton, one of Washington's aides-de-camp and I are to be married. I find myself extremely happy in his arms Aunt and hope you will like him.

Your...

Wrangling Thoughts (24)

There was a date! A wonderful amazing date! My wedding date! I wondered if I would get fired from my current position for being too happy while I made sure the amount of gunpowder distributed was enough. I tried to wash the smile off my face but it wouldn't seem to go, not even when some accidentally whapped me in the shoulder with the butt of a musket. I'd sent them off with a smile on my face! After Laurens and Mulligan told Lafayette and me, I almost passed out. They said I looked faint and had to steady me and eventually tried to drag me off to bed but someone told us we were needed in supplying. Well, I was needed in supplying. Mulligan and Lafayette were leading a charge and Laurens was going to fight too, near the back. And I... well, I was going to have a wedding, which made the other things pale in comparison.
I passed the musket...

Good Friends (22)

I reread the note Peggy had sent me.

'Dear Alex, as my sister has asked us to call you,

I have come to your aid and hope you will not show anyone this letter. I am in need of an opinion that is not from my own blood (yet). I am sure you have heard of many women being taken advantage with wealthy men their husbands. I have recently found a certain Stephen Van Rensselaer III who is very kind to me. He does not use me as one might suspect as a puppet on his arm. He looks at me like a friend, not as just a wife. He is younger than I, but not by so much he has not plans already for his land and wealth. You will think it is strange I have come to you for help, but Eliza speaks most highly of you and I thought you might be able to advise me. My...

Wrangling Thoughts (24)

There was a date! A wonderful amazing date! My wedding date! I wondered if I would get fired from my current position for being too happy while I made sure the amount of gunpowder distributed was enough. I tried to wash the smile off my face but it wouldn't seem to go, not even when some accidentally whapped me in the shoulder with the butt of a musket. I'd sent them off with a smile on my face! After Laurens and Mulligan told Lafayette and I think I almost passed out. They said I looked faint and had to steady me and eventually tried to drag me off to bed but someone told us we were needed in supplying. Well, I was needed in supplying. Mulligan and Lafayette were leading a charge and Laurens was going to fight too, near the back. And I... well, I was going to have a wedding, which made the other things pale in comparison.
I passed...

There Is A Date (23)

"Angelica?" I asked quietly to her from where she lay on her bed. Father and Mother had called her down to yell at her and everyone had either went outside or remained in their rooms, not wanting to be downstairs. In fact, right after the painter had left (the portrait was gorgeous even if it had caused my rump so much pain) and we hung it in the living room, I led the troops upstairs and left Mother and Father alone with our oldest sister.
She wasn't answering, just staring at the foot of the bed, almost angrily. "Angelica, do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
"Can we walk?" she asked abruptly, nearly interrupting me. I frowned. "But your grounded."
Angelica offered a thin smile. "Then let's have an adventure."
I remember how we would go outside and climb on top of the hill risking our dresses just to roll down or claim the land for ourselves and...

Good Friends (22)

I reread the note Peggy had sent me.

'Dear Alex, as my sister has asked us to call you,

I have come to your aid and hope you will not show anyone this letter. I am in need of an opinion that is not from my own blood (yet). I am sure you have heard of many women being taken advantage with wealthy men their husbands. I have recently found a certain Stephen Van Rensselaer III who is very kind to me. He does not use me as one might suspect as a puppet on his arm. He looks at me like a friend, not as just a wife. He is younger than I, but not by so much he has not plans already for his land and wealth. You will think it is strange I have come to you for help, but Eliza speaks most highly of you and I thought you might be able to advise me. My...

Family Portrait (21)

The painter said he'd be done soon an hour ago. One thing about portraits was the stiff posture one had to hold, especially when it was next to your family. We were set up on the long couch- Peggy, Cornelia, and Mother with Catherine in her lap on the couch, Angelica on one arm and I on the other, and Father with an arm around Angelica, Rensselaer, Phillip, and John behind where the girls sat on the couch. Angelica and Father had come down the stairs, both red in the face, and both angry. "John," I said through my lips. "Your gripping the couch."
"Sorry," he muttered through his teeth.
"Angelica," Mother said through her lips as well. "You are in so much trouble."
It had gone on like this for the past ten minutes, with many inputs from everyone including a giggle from Catherine at the peculiar way her family started talking. "Mother," she said. "I did what I...

Unconfirmed Confirmation (20)

"Sir," I ask Washington as I sit and chart out the plans for tomorrow's attack. It's a complicated one with lots of surprising pull throughs, but I have a feeling we could do it if we acted without further warning to the redcoats. We charge from the west of one of their bigger camps and would take it from there with multiple smaller attacks that would join the bigger army in force. It was a good plan Knox had come up with- I wish I had come up with it instead of having to review and calculate the numbers. "The General you hired, when is he to take position?"
Washington looked up from writing a letter with an M on the envelope, obviously meant for Martha Washington. "General Lee will take his place once we go through the next two battles and General Tucker is off to South Carolina."
"Is it General Charles Lee, sir?"
Washington nodded and started to...

Lunch With Church (19)

I blink awake and see Cornelia standing by Catherine in our room, a small note in her hand and a giddy smile of guilt and joy is there. "Cornelia?" I ask. Cornelia jumped and clung to the letter a little more tightly, nearly ripping over her nightgown.
I paused, propping myself up on an elbow. "Is there something wrong?"
"What? Of course not Eliza."
"Are you sure?"
The door burst open, Mother coming in, for once, without a façade. She looked very tired. "Girls, it is time we talk."
"Oh?" Angelica yawned, stretching and popping stiff muscles. Mother sighed and sat on the edge of Angelica's bed. "Angelica, you are my beautiful, witty, resourceful daughter. I need you to be courteous to Mr. Church when he comes to visit for lunch."
"Excuse me?" Angelica snapped, the grogginess instantly faded. "For lunch?"
"Yes, and after that a painter is coming to paint us as a family. I have given you all...

Captain's Comments (18)

I march alongside my squadron, knowing I should be with Washington. Alas, the General wanted me to train just in case worst came to worst, which was especially awful because I knew it never would. Washington would much rather send me into a wagon like an old women than to fight the enemy even if we were fighting toe to toe. Come to think of it, Tiegrand was the first time I've been in battle and that was because it was an ambush. And the mission? That was after about three pacing sessions, two letters to his wife, and a conference with me that involved me on my knees. I wish he would either let me fight or let me scout, because I would gladly do both. I would gladly risk my life if it meant to preserve a good nation, a free nation where people like me could seek refuge.
Speaking of people like me, the man beside me...

A Darkness Looming (17)

I walked dazedly back to the living room where Alexander and I had told each other stories. Everyone occupied it now. Peggy writing something, probably to the young man who had caused her to walk around somberly all day, Phillip, lying next to John, drawing something out on the ground, Mother reading something with an impassive face, Father next to her, not looking, and Cornelia... I pause and look at my parents again, not immediately seeking out Angelica and Cornelia and Rensselaer and Catherine. They stare at the sheet of paper, and a flash of fear crosses Mother's face. What was on the paper?
I walk behind them where the sit on the couch and peer over their shoulders, reading as quickly as I could before they cut me off. Be informed Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler that in present times there are dangerous raids-
"Elizabeth!" Father demanded harshly, standing. "You were not permitted to read that letter."
I blink and...

Washington's Dilema (16)

I ran with Lafayette through camp, making my way back to his commanding tent. He seemed to prefer that to the houses because it was easier to maneuver and soon enough made us move as well. "What-" I began, and Lafayette just shook his hairy head. "No idea," he told me.
I switched gears and turned a corner, running towards the familiar beige tent with the flag standing up next to it. Not a moment later I burst through the opening, my breath in short gasps. Washington stood in front of Henry Know, an overweight man with a puffy red face, his face contorted angrily. Whatever was happening, Washington was livid, and Lafayette and I were the only ones he could take it out on. Washington turned to us, his face flushed and steely gray eyes hard as he recognized Lafayette and I. He pointed to his desk. "Hamilton, find the paper on Artillery."
I rushed over and began searched...

If Time Allows (15)

I climbed her stairs, eager to read whatever she had in store for me. She led the way, her step bouncing. I didn't look out the window on purpose because I didn't want to see how long I had left and let my mind and heart rest here with the Schuylers. I trailed after her, reaching the top of the steps and walking into her bedroom which was now crowded with her family where Angelica, the eldest, stood playing a violin. Effortlessly she dragged it back and forth across the strings with her eyes closed, swaying, humming. Cornelia must've snuck past us and rejoined them. Phillip and John (I would accidentally get the two mixed up but I was certain I had learned from my mistakes) watched their sister admirably. Rensselaer, the funnier of the three brothers, played with Catherine and his father- now my father- watched them from the small chair he sat on, his wife next to him....

Year by Year

​Progression

Year One: What is there to say except birth? Life, Breath, Light, Mother Earth.
My mother and father held me so long
Building me up to be strong.

Year Two: A boy wrapped in blankets came home, my brother who would share the room where I roam.
I play in a bathtub with ducks all over the walls.
Laughing and splashing until my warm crib calls.

Year Three: I sit at Grandma's for Christmas time, Love here blooming and sublime.
A merry village begs me to play with it
Or rip open the gift boxes and see what's been forced to fit.

Year Four: Fights are shown over the course of time, Whether it grown ups or children in their prime.
Jobs are being done
We play in the sun

Year Five: We get a pet, a dog with a goofy mindset,
I race the cars down the sidewalk as if I was faster than them.
Hold a lemonade stand and make...

Stories (14)

The Schuyler house was hectic with everything happening- the birth and adjustment to Catherine, the betrothed Angelica, and even Peggy had gotten about five letters all addressed to her. Then there was me and my own troubles. And by troubles, of course I meant Alexander. The information had to be shared by Father to my siblings, and they could do little to comfort me. My father said he would try to find out today but he had yet to return from Fort Lee. And here I was, Angelica stroking my hair. Both of us were upset- Angelica had a talk with Father which involved a lot of yelling and stomping, then wailing from Catherine who had been taken by our mother. Phillip, Rensselaer, and John had woken up blearily and confused, which left Cornelia, informed by Peggy, to explain. Peggy herself had been too busy wandering around the house with a dazed, love-stricken look in her eyes. When Father asked who'd...

Stories (14)

The Schuyler house was hectic with everything happening- the birth and adjustment to Catherine, the betrothed Angelica, and even Peggy had gotten about five letters all addressed to her. Then there was me and my own troubles. And by troubles, of course I meant Alexander. The information had to be shared by Father to my siblings, and they could do little to comfort me. My father said he would try to find out today but he had yet to return from Fort Lee. And here I was, Angelica stroking my hair. Both of us were upset- Angelica had a talk with Father which involved a lot of yelling and stomping, then wailing from Catherine who had been taken by our mother. Phillip, Rensselaer, and John had woken up blearily and confused, which left Cornelia, informed by Peggy, to explain. Peggy herself had been too busy wandering around the house with a dazed, love-stricken look in her eyes. When Father asked who'd...

News

When someone turns on the news
I see them through in little bits
Of how beautiful it would be to go on a cruise
Of adorable toddlers throwing fits.

I notice that they do this
To remind us as well as them too
That there is good in the world behind the mist
Of bad things happening on cue.

It is hard to have perspective
Of what we can do to help
A voice is collective
But sometimes even a voice help.

Fear and worry and pain
At the problems that we face
Are seeming to be quite the bane
Of our time and place

It is often I remind myself
That we are trying to speak
But I wish for more good health
That things do not seem so bleak.

A Chance Meeting (13)

We stood at alert. I had been placed at the fourth row of my training squadron though it was clear Washington didn't want me in any major battles unsupervised, if at all. I had woken up in a good mood knowing tonight I would get to see my Eliza, and get acquainted with her family. I couldn't let this thought distract me however- our trainer, Colonel Grainier. He had a narrow face and a black beard. What really stuck out was his eye, seeming to twitch in every which direction, so I focused on the other one.
I stand in line among men I don't know. Laurens is somewhere in the crowd while Lafayette and Mulligan were with Washington for whatever reason, probably to discuss things. And we'd already been given the tour- which took an hour or two. It was just as huge as I had thought if not more. I followed the ripple of movement that came through...

Fort Lee (12)

"Sir," I asked him as we finally started to approach the Forts. "Sir," I said again once he didn't answer. "Shall I ask for more gun powder?"
"No," he answered finally. "We will have all we need right here."
A man on horseback came out to meet us in the cold of night, the moon no where to be seen. Our men were tired, hungry, and spread as thin as I could imagine. No one could carry a conversation that lasted longer than three words. I pulled my feet up in front of me numerous times to keep from just falling on the grass. But now everyone seemed to have an extra burst of strength at the sight of the horseback rider coming down the hill. His reddish-brown male reared a bit but he reared it in just fine, in front of Washington. "Sir?" He lifted a lantern as if he couldn't believe who was standing in front of him....

Nightly Confessions (11)

I look at my sister sleeping, wrapped in her soft white blanket and a small tuft of hair. Dark brown, like mine. I smile and finally take my finger out of her tiny grasp where she had fallen asleep gripping it. She is beautiful. The first couple days with her have been amazing. Amazing... and worrying.
I kept asking about Washington and his group. No word had been reported, no letters gone out. None from Alexander. I shook the thought away and stood up, brushing my night gown against the crib and moving over to my bed. Sleep might not be easy, but it was needed. I sat on my bed... and heard something. It was soft and yet ringing. It sounded like someone was crying. I cocked my head and rose up. Angelica wasn't in her bed, but she was probably comforting whomever was upset. Probably Peggy.
I creaked the door open navigating my way through the dark by...

Mass Mutiny (10)

We sat in a sopping wet pile of dirt and mud and leaves, under dripping wet trees with outstretched arms. 500 soldiers are all that is left of a 2000 group. We ran and ran until we reached a forest where we could take shelter. About 100 of our men are either limping, nursing wounds, or being treated as I sat and watched my General, Commander, Leader knead his forehead and mutter some things under his breath in front of us. We were 400 strong against 3000 men out for our blood. I leaned heavily on a tree and scanned my surroundings, looking for familiar faces.
I saw Lafayette in deep conversation with a mustached man, men all over his uniform. Someone lent me a pair of boots, insisting I have them. There were no jackets to spare, so I just shuddered and generated heat from those around me. Mulligan was having his musket cleaned, seeming downcast but angry. No...

We Could Win (9)

I pulled myself up, shoving my boots on as my blood roared in my ears as screams and commands were issued outside. The dim light of morning was completed with a morning storm, battering down the tent and making me move even faster as lightening illuminated graphic scenes outside. I pulled my quills and papers and tucked them in my jacket, picking up my musket as everyone else did. Laurens ran out into the fray and I saw Mulligan ready to follow suit. "Washington!" I thought aloud suddenly. "I mean, sir," I corrected, turning as he started to go outside.
He looked at me. "Hamilton, I need-"
"The hill," I interrupted him, something I would never normally do. "We need to defend the hill, sir. They'll expect us to turn and run and camp at our next site, beyond the fen. If we hide out at the hill then we could be able to hold them off and shoot them...

The Newest Member (8)

I scrambled up and my brothers and sisters followed me out into the hall and we crowded the corridor. "May we enter?" Angelica asked through the wood in the light of the hallway, some portraits on the walls of their father and grandfathers as well as a family one. The door opened and our group flooded inside the master bedroom.
Our mother Catherine layed up in her bed, a blanket over her body and her hair pulled hastily up. Three nursemaids with dirty scrubs and gloves covered in red sat near the back, but dazed smiles were on them as if they were a part of the family- which, they kind of were. The candelabra sat on a dresser and helped illuminate the scene. The doctor watched as she cradled a newborn baby with flailing hands and legs. I saw our father smile and rub her shoulder as she looked down at her newborn baby. She looked up at us....

Dreams (7)

"Alexander," my tutor instructed. "That's not how you say goodbye."
I turned to the Jewish woman who'd agreed to teach me. I didn't understand. "Aw Revoir," I tried again. What was I doing wrong?
"No!" she slapped the table. "Alexander, repeat after me. Au Revoir. "
"Aw Revoir," I tried again, wondering when she would let me go to dinner. It was my tenth birthday and I'd like to spend it with my brother, outside. We lived on a beautiful Caribbean island with lush gardens and sparkling bejeweled sea that lurched on our sandy beaches. Our own house overlooked the water, an ever-flowing constant in life. Mountains and trees surrounded us like giants looking down on their ascendants and determining whether to be proud or not. I sighed and scrubbed my head. I'd much rather be out there than in her stuffy house in a hard wooden chair and two books on a lonely shelf, only one window letting the light...

Schuyler Song (6)

I walked to the room where my mother was giving birth and heard the pained groans of labor. I wished I could help, but I couldn't as much as the nurses and maids inside. I shuddered and walked back to my room to wait with my siblings. Phillip sat on my bed with John and Rensselaer on the floor, a hand in his hair. Angelica and Cornelia sat on Angelica's bed. My older sister smiled at me when I came in but seemed just as nervous as the rest of us. Our mother Catherine had had trouble in the past and we could only listen to her with bated breath. Peggy had her arms folded over her stomach and looked slightly queasy. We were a strange bunch, the Schuyler family, but there was no family I'd rather have. If only Alexander were here.
He'd written to all my family, sending them letters and explaining, even confessing his love for me...

Mission (5)

I got on my horse. Pendleton, Greene and Knox had been dispatched already, sent off to Georgia. Washington looked at me and grasped my arm, making me look up from loading my musket. "Sir?"
Washington looked at me, concern in his gray eyes. I'd seen it before, of course, but he had to trust me with this mission like I trusted him with everything else. "Be careful and protect yourself. we cannot afford to lose you."
I knew I should be touched, but this was the mission I'd waited so long for. I had begged him again and again, and now he thought I couldn't handle a thing as simple as spying? He wouldn't even let me lead men, even if they were the weakest brigade. He needed me, he said, because there was no one of my caliber in the US or quite possibly the world. But I could handle this mission. I knew it. So I just nodded and...

Blessing (4)

I stood up and pulled my boots on, fully dressed for wherever Washington was taking us. Laurens, Mulligan, Lafayette, who had just arrived, and two more, a doctor and a messenger from Congress who had passed out once he'd gotten there. "Is everyone ready?" Washington demanded. "By tomorrow I want us all ready to march."
"March sir?" I asked. Washington looked over. "Is that a problem Hamilton?"
I thought of Eliza and my promises to meet her before I had to leave. I looked down and shook my head. "No sir," I replied evenly. It wasn't fair, but then what in my life had been? How much would I have to go through to get to her? I had hoped only the expected problems, like my illegitimacy, but of course that was not it. Nothing was simple. Washington adjusted his hat and then looked over his men. "Alright. We are going to an old friend of mine's house. I expect...

Young Love (3)

I carefully unwrapped the parcel I'd startled the messenger to get and sat at my desk, a candle that should be long out burning. I sighed, re-reading the lines again and again. His words, his modesty, his... everything was packed into the parchment that I delicately held, running my fingers along the slightly crumpled edges. The last sentence seems to be cut off but I didn't mind. My father, the famous General, was housing Washington tomorrow night for Dinner. I wished it would be Alexander instead. The boy who had not only sang my praises, but who valued me. Who thought himself lesser. I smiled dreamily, a small gasp coming from my chest. I longed to see him again.
Angelica had interrogated me once we got home and were alone. Was he as smart as he seemed at first? Was he a Col.? A handsome dancer? Did I ... was I in love? I couldn't answer half, but Alexander was brilliant...

Love Letters (2)

I glanced over at my military family busily writing or discussing around me. I was popped up on an elbow, writing on my bunk I shared. Washington was deep in conversation, he wouldn't notice. I looked at my letter. It wasn't like I would be punished for using the paper for something other than confidential notes to congress, right? Washington would understand... not that he would know. I tucked an auburn lock behind my hair and thought of her. Oh, Eliza. This was unlike me- sure I'd seen pretty women. Flirted, danced a bit, making them blush or giggle like schoolgirls. But I never wrote them letters. I never longed to see them again like I was now. I had never been struck by the audacity and intelligence of a person, woman or man. Not ever... before her. My Eliza. The Eliza that, after I confessed she could gain nothing by marrying from a rich family into mine, danced anyway...

Do You Think That Matters To Me? (1)

There were instruments playing and a chorus talking up a note, people swinging their partners around as if gliding on water or soaring in the air. Eliza stood at the back of the ballroom, watching her sister tug someone after her to the center of the dancing. Eliza sighed. A boy or two had asked her to dance and she'd given them the response, 'my legs are tired' or 'I am waiting on someone'. She hated the way some of them eyed her as a prize, an inheritance instead of... of... A girl wanting to dance. Angelica, of course, had no fear. She pulled them in and let them go just as quickly, yet they all came back. She was the eldest, and the best to marry or be with. And currently, she wasn't won over yet. Eliza prepared herself to search after one of her siblings and see if they had any luck. A creak of the door interrupted her thoughts and Eliza looked up. She watched...

Just No

I am so mad I think the world itself is vibrating, bristling at the wood Trump shoves into the burner in order to keep himself warm for one night while not counting the other nights of winter.
DACA will not go away.
There is no question about it.
My answer as an American is No.
Just No.

Mass Mutiny (10)

We sat in a sopping wet pile of dirt and mud and leaves, under dripping wet trees with outstretched arms. 500 soldiers are all that is left of a 2000 group. We ran and ran until we reached a forest where we could take shelter. About 100 of our men are either limping, nursing wounds, or being treated as I sat and watched my General, Commander, Leader knead his forehead and mutter some things under his breath in front of us. We were 400 strong against 3000 men out for our blood. I leaned heavily on a tree and scanned my surroundings, looking for familiar faces.
I saw Lafayette in deep conversation with a mustached man, men all over his uniform. Someone lent me a pair of boots, insisting I have them. There were no jackets to spare, so I just shuddered and generated heat from those around me. Mulligan was having his musket cleaned, seeming downcast but angry. No...

We Could Win (9)

I pulled myself up, shoving my boots on as my blood roared in my ears as screams and commands were issued outside. The dim light of morning was completed with a morning storm, battering down the tent and making me move even faster as lightening illuminated graphic scenes outside. I pulled my quills and papers and tucked them in my jacket, picking up my musket as everyone else did. Laurens ran out into the fray and I saw Mulligan ready to follow suit. "Washington!" I thought aloud suddenly. "I mean, sir," I corrected, turning as he started to go outside.
He looked at me. "Hamilton, I need-"
"The hill," I interrupted him, something I would never normally do. "We need to defend the hill, sir. They'll expect us to turn and run and camp at our next site, beyond the fen. If we hide out at the hill then we could be able to hold them off and shoot them...

Mission (5)

I got on my horse. Pendleton, Greene and Knox had been dispatched already, sent off to Georgia. Washington looked at me and grasped my arm, making me look up from loading my musket. "Sir?"
Washington looked at me, concern in his gray eyes. I'd seen it before, of course, but he had to trust me with this mission like I trusted him with everything else. "Be careful and protect yourself. we cannot afford to lose you."
I knew I should be touched, but this was the mission I'd waited so long for. I had begged him again and again, and now he thought I couldn't handle a thing as simple as spying? He wouldn't even let me lead men, even if they were the weakest brigade. He needed me, he said, because there was no one of my caliber in the US or quite possibly the world. But I could handle this mission. I knew it. So I just nodded and...

The Newest Member (8)

I scrambled up and my brothers and sisters followed me out into the hall and we crowded the corridor. "May we enter?" Angelica asked through the wood in the light of the hallway, some portraits on the walls of their father and grandfathers as well as a family one. The door opened and our group flooded inside the master bedroom.
Our mother Catherine layed up in her bed, a blanket over her body and her hair pulled hastily up. Three nursemaids with dirty scrubs and gloves covered in red sat near the back, but dazed smiles were on them as if they were a part of the family- which, they kind of were. The candelabra sat on a dresser and helped illuminate the scene. The doctor watched as she cradled a newborn baby with flailing hands and legs. I saw our father smile and rub her shoulder as she looked down at her newborn baby. She looked up at us....

Dreams (7)

"Alexander," my tutor instructed. "That's not how you say goodbye."
I turned to the Jewish woman who'd agreed to teach me. I didn't understand. "Aw Revoir," I tried again. What was I doing wrong?
"No!" she slapped the table. "Alexander, repeat after me. Au Revoir. "
"Aw Revoir," I tried again, wondering when she would let me go to dinner. It was my tenth birthday and I'd like to spend it with my brother, outside. We lived on a beautiful Caribbean island with lush gardens and sparkling bejeweled sea that lurched on our sandy beaches. Our own house overlooked the water, an ever-flowing constant in life. Mountains and trees surrounded us like giants looking down on their ascendants and determining whether to be proud or not. I sighed and scrubbed my head. I'd much rather be out there than in her stuffy house in a hard wooden chair and two books on a lonely shelf, only one window letting the light...

Schuyler Song (6)

I walked to the room where my mother was giving birth and heard the pained groans of labor. I wished I could help, but I couldn't as much as the nurses and maids inside. I shuddered and walked back to my room to wait with my siblings. Phillip sat on my bed with John and Rensselaer on the floor, a hand in his hair. Angelica and Cornelia sat on Angelica's bed. My older sister smiled at me when I same in but seemed just as nervous as the rest of us. Our mother Catherine had had trouble in the past and we could only listen to her with bated breath. Peggy had her arms folded over her stomach and looked slightly queasy. We were a strange bunch, the Schuyler family, but there was no family I'd rather have. If only Alexander were here.
He'd written to all my family, sending them letters and explaining, even confessing his love for me...

Young Love (3)

I carefully unwrapped the parcel I'd startled the messenger to get and sat at my desk, a candle that should be long out burning. I sighed, re-reading the lines again and again. His words, his modesty, his... everything was packed into the parchment that I delicately held, running my fingers along the slightly crumpled edges. The last sentence seems to be cut off but I didn't mind. My father, the famous General, was housing Washington tomorrow night for Dinner. I wished it would be Alexander instead. The boy who had not only sang my praises, but who valued me. Who thought himself lesser. I smiled dreamily, a small gasp coming from my chest. I longed to see him again.
Angelica had interrogated me once we got home and were alone. Was he as smart as he seemed at first? Was he a Col.? A handsome dancer? Did I ... was I in love? I couldn't answer half, but Alexander was brilliant...

Mission (5)

I got on my horse. Pendleton, Greene and Knox had been dispatched already, sent off to Georgia. Washington looked at me and grasped my arm, making me look up from loading my musket. "Sir?"
Washington looked at me, concern in his gray eyes. I'd seen it before, of course, but he had to trust me with this mission like I trusted him with everything else. "Be careful and protect yourself. we cannot afford to lose you."
I knew I should be touched, but this was the mission I'd waited so long for. I had begged him again and again, and now he thought I couldn't handle a thing as simple as spying? He wouldn't even let me lead men, even if they were the weakest brigade. He needed me, he said, because there was no one of my caliber in the US or quite possibly the world. But I could handle this mission. I knew it. So I just nodded and...

Do You Think That Matters To Me? (1)

There were instruments playing and a chorus talking up a note, people swinging their partners around as if gliding on water or soaring in the air. Eliza stood at the back of the ballroom, watching her sister tug someone after her to the center of the dancing. Eliza sighed. A boy or two had asked her to dance and she'd given them the response, 'my legs are tired' or 'I am waiting on someone'. She hated the way some of them eyed her as a prize, an inheritance instead of... of... A girl wanting to dance. Angelica, of course, had no fear. She pulled them in and let them go just as quickly, yet they all came back. She was the eldest, and the best to marry or be with. And currently, she wasn't won over yet. Eliza prepared herself to search after one of her siblings and see if they had any luck. A creak of the door interrupted her thoughts and Eliza looked up. She watched...

Love Letters (2)

I glanced over at my military family busily writing or discussing around me. I was popped up on an elbow, writing on my bunk I shared. Washington was deep in conversation, he wouldn't notice. I looked at my letter. It wasn't like I would be punished for using the paper for something other than confidential notes to congress, right? Washington would understand... not that he would know. I tucked an auburn lock behind my hair and thought of her. Oh, Eliza. This was unlike me- sure I'd seen pretty women. Flirted, danced a bit, making them blush or giggle like schoolgirls. But I never wrote them letters. I never longed to see them again like I was now. I had never been struck by the audacity and intelligence of a person, woman or man. Not ever... before her. My Eliza. The Eliza that, after I confessed she could gain nothing by marrying from a rich family into mine, danced anyway...

Young Love (3)

I carefully unwrapped the parcel I'd startled the messenger to get and sat at my desk, a candle that should be long out burning. I sighed, re-reading the lines again and again. His words, his modesty, his... everything was packed into the parchment that I delicately held, running my fingers along the slightly crumpled edges. The last sentence seems to be cut off but I didn't mind. My father, the famous General, was housing Washington tomorrow night for Dinner. I wished it would be Alexander instead. The boy who had not only sang my praises, but who valued me. Who thought himself lesser. I smiled dreamily, a small gasp coming from my chest. I longed to see him again.
Angelica had interrogated me once we got home and were alone. Was he as smart as he seemed at first? Was he a Col.? A handsome dancer? Did I ... was I in love? I couldn't answer half, but Alexander was brilliant...

Blessing (4)

I stood up and pulled my boots on, fully dressed for wherever Washington was taking us. Laurens, Mulligan, Lafayette, who had just arrived, and two more, a doctor and a messenger from Congress who had passed out once he'd gotten there. "Is everyone ready?" Washington demanded. "By tomorrow I want us all ready to march."
"March sir?" I asked. Washington looked over. "Is that a problem Hamilton?"
I thought of Eliza and my promises to meet her before I had to leave. I looked down and shook my head. "No sir," I replied evenly. It wasn't fair, but then what in my life had been? How much would I have to go through to get to her? I had hoped only the expected problems, like my illegitimacy, but of course that was not it. Nothing was simple. Washington adjusted his hat and then looked over his men. "Alright. We are going to an old friend of mine's house. I expect...

Blessing (4)

I stood up and pulled my boots on, fully dressed for wherever Washington was taking us. Laurens, Mulligan, Lafayette, who had just arrived, and two more, a doctor and a messenger from Congress who had passed out once he'd gotten there. "Is everyone ready?" Washington demanded. "By tomorrow I want us all ready to march."
"March sir?" I asked. Washington looked over. "Is that a problem Hamilton?"
I thought of Eliza and my promises to meet her before I had to leave. I looked down and shook my head. "No sir," I replied evenly. It wasn't fair, but then what in my life had been? How much would I have to go through to get to her? I had hoped only the expected problems, like my illegitimacy, but of course that was not it. Nothing was simple. Washington adjusted his hat and then looked over his men. "Alright. We are going to an old friend of mine's house. I expect...

Do You Think That Matters To Me? (1)

There were instruments playing and a chorus talking up a note, people swinging their partners around as if gliding on water or soaring in the air. Eliza stood at the back of the ballroom, watching her sister tug someone after her to the center of the dancing. Eliza sighed. A boy or two had asked her to dance and she'd given them the response, 'my legs are tired' or 'I am waiting on someone'. She hated the way some of them eyed her as a prize, an inheritance instead of... of... A girl wanting to dance. Angelica, of course, had no fear. She pulled them in and let them go just as quickly, yet they all came back. She was the eldest, and the best to marry or be with. And currently, she wasn't won over yet. Eliza prepared herself to search after one of her siblings and see if they had any luck. A creak of the door interrupted her thoughts and Eliza looked up. She watched...

Dear Mr. Trump

Hello Mr. Trump

How is it you are where you are? How is it that you came from a money-making family of cowards who fled whenever war struck and not one served in an army? How is it you started so high and came down so low and busied yourself with being surrounded by women and judging them? How is it you, who is a racist and discriminates at every turn, are here? How is it you are still loved by too many for your idiotic plans and jurisdictions? One would be enough. And how is it you are here after sop many riots and you being for all the things a president should be against? How is it you think you have enough power to address the American people and say what they want as a whole? How is it you have made so many slurs about every single person against or for you and still expect them to whole-heartedly...

Your Voice: Globalization

Y(Our) Voice

I promised I would not get angry while writing this. But I decided to include Eliza Hamilton quotes from Hamilton (I use it a lot sorry) pieces to express it. This is about Trump.

Eliza: I knew you'd fight 'till the war was one
We all are connected through our military who lives to serve America everyday and protect our believes, our judgements, our freedoms, and our capabilities. We must have proper beliefs for our nation and not let it decline.
Eliza: Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now
We are so lucky to have what we have here in this nation. We have more safety, more protection, more freedom, more opportunity than most other countries will ever achieve or hope to. We are united as one and we are so blessed and lucky to be alive in this world, at this time, in this place right now.
Eliza: Look at where you are, look...

Your Voice: Globalization

Y(Our) Voice

I promised I would not get angry while writing this. But I decided to include Eliza Hamilton quotes from Hamilton (I use it a lot sorry) pieces to express it. This is about Trump.

Eliza: I knew you'd fight 'till the war was one
We all are connected through our military who lives to serve America everyday and protect our believes, our judgements, our freedoms, and our capabilities. We must have proper beliefs for our nation and not let it decline.
Eliza: Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now
We are so lucky to have what we have here in this nation. We have more safety, more protection, more freedom, more opportunity than most other countries will ever achieve or hope to. We are united as one and we are so blessed and lucky to be alive in this world, at this time, in this place right now.
Eliza: Look at where you are, look...

Your Voice: Globalization

Y(Our) Voice

I promised I would not get angry while writing this. But I decided to include Eliza Hamilton quotes from Hamilton (I use it a lot sorry) pieces to express it. This is about Trump.

Eliza: I knew you'd fight 'till the war was one
We all are connected through our military who lives to serve America everyday and protect our believes, our judgements, our freedoms, and our capabilities. We must have proper
Eliza: Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now
We are so lucky to have what we have here in this nation. We have more safety, more protection, more freedom, more opportunity than most other countries will ever achieve or hope to. We are united as one and we are so blessed and lucky to be alive in this world, at this time, in this place right now.
Eliza: Look at where you are, look at where you started, the fact that you're alive...

LS

Look up Seriously Leslie Odom and Sara Barelleis

Too Well (4)

Jorge stood among the camp, watching Maggie explain what had happened to the rest of them. He sighed and looked at his horse. An old stallion that had broken three of his ribs and knocked out two teeth. Jorge smiled- good memories. The camp was set up almost like a village- a very well protected village. Countless of trees held watch posts and two men in each, taking turns. On the east of their camp was a huge waterfall, which held a beautiful cave behind it. A cave that turned out to be a passageway.
Jorge and James had had the whole place stocked with little tricks to put everyone off. For instance, the tents were blazing the royal emblem when the real emblem was a knot of rope to throw them off when they first arrived and buckets of urine were up in the watch posts where they could be dumped on unsuspecting guards or nobles. He smirked and...

Repeat The Process

Is ambition to give way to folly?

Beginning from desolate fragments
Evening unto night
Lives had been pushed far beyond limits to accomplish unity
Is that how we are to end as well?
Ending the cycle of building only to start it again?
Vultures picking on vultures?
Escaping our knowledge?

I hope not; I hope we come together and don't fall under the strain of a good whole nation
Not what we started from, a land ruled by monarchy.

From the deepest oceans and tallest peaks, everyone has had to face oppression in some form or fashion.
Righteous deeds can redeem us, and our future generations.
Elapsing over time the misled can come in the package of a noble or a peasant
Embellishing the acts done over time to let them seem more worse or better

Schools try to catch everyone up with eachother
Putting us all where we need to be
Eloping us with ideas of ambition
Escaping the...

Kutoa

We sat in the pew, our hair glossy and tied up on our heads with black silk bows or, for the boys, bowties on their chest. Simple black velvety dresses or black shirts were all that could be seen besides the differing skin tones, hair, and bowties. The pews were hard but I was comfortable enough with the warm satisfied feeling in my chest, the joy of Christmas certainly not skipping over me. No harsh fluorescent lights bore down upon us, but rather yellow ones like lamplight and candlewax. Which was what they were, either handing in the windows tilled with snow or on the three big chandeliers going down the long path to the stage.
Men and women greeted eachother and shook hands, some knowing eachother and some having never set eyes upon one another before. The choir and the composer read through their piece one last time and the orchestra strumming or blowing or chiming away on their instruments. I smiled at an old man with...

A Ruined Shirt

"Don't. Move."
I stood with lance leveled to my heart. Still, I couldn't afford to be scared. No matter what, if I was to live on, I couldn't afford the luxury of fear. "Or what?"
The Captain's guards looked at each other uneasily like even in the face of death I still had a trick up my sleeve. The Captain, though, didn't. He narrowed his eyes. "Or you meet the fiery depths where you belong."
I smiled ruthlessly. "Wishful thinking, good man."
"The difference between us is that I am a good man. You are not."
I whistled lowly. "Harsh, aren't we?"
The Captain stiffened. Then with pinpoint accuracy he threw his leg into where the sun don't shine. I whimpered but didn't bend down, forcing myself to stay upright. He bent close to my ear but I didn't dare try anything for fear he'd raise his leg again or stab his lance and run me through. "You are going to...

Take The Reins

I think this is the time to start
It is better than any, yes?
I believe now is the time we must take this horse by it's reins
Whether we've a good grip or not
It is important we grab at it and hold on with all of our might
What might keep us on?
Is it love for what we do, I would think so
But for some it is sacrifice
Which also trails its way back into Love's footsteps.
It is funny isn't it
Just how much we can be immovable once we recognize what we are taking the reins for
I think it is time to start
Time to take the reins.

A Ruined Shirt

"Don't. Move."
I stood with lance leveled to my heart. Still, I couldn't afford to be scared. No matter what, if I was to live on, I couldn't afford the luxury of fear. "Or what?"
The Captain's guards looked at each other uneasily like even in the face of death I still had a trick up my sleeve. The Captain, though, didn't. He narrowed his eyes. "Or you meet the fiery depths where you belong."
I smiled ruthlessly. "Wishful thinking, good man."
"The difference between us is that I am a good man. You are not."
I whistled lowly. "Harsh, aren't we?"
The Captain stiffened. Then with pinpoint accuracy he threw his leg into where the sun don't shine. I whimpered but didn't bend down, forcing myself to stay upright. He bent close to my ear but I didn't dare try anything for fear he'd raise his leg again or stab his lance and run me through. "You are going to...

A Ruined Shirt

"Don't. Move."
I stood with lance leveled to my heart. Still, I couldn't afford to be scared. No matter what, if I was to live on, I couldn't afford the luxury of fear. "Or what?"
The Captain's guards looked at eachother uneasily like even in the face of death I still had a trick up my sleeve. The Captain, though, didn't. He narrowed his eyes. "Or you meet the fiery depths where you belong."
I smiled ruthlessly. "Wishful thinking, good man."
"The difference between us is that I am a good man. You are not."
I whistled lowly. "Harsh, aren't we?"
The Captain stiffened. Then with pinpoint accuracy he threw his leg into where the sun don't shine. I whimpered but didn't bend down, forcing myself to stay upright. He bent close to my ear but I didn't dare try anything for fear he'd raise his leg again or stab his lance and run me through. "You are going to come...

Trap

I forced my eyes open, gasping, my whole body shuddering. Where was I? Last thing I remembered was... was Jennifer being pulled away from me, my best friend in the world being pulled off into the swarming crowd, her backpack an orange beacon. I felt bruised and found that whenever I moved an ache sensation went through me. Whenever I blinkedmy eyes felt dry, like someone had poured salt in them. My straw hair was a mess on my head, but it felt like it had been pulled and yanked so many times it was half-gone. My back was shoved against a spindly hard-backed chair with darkness all around, me under a hanging fixture. There was a stone floor beneath my feet with a splatter that looked strangely like blood. I felt my mouth open but my scream was so feeble and dry even if someone did here me they would've thought it was a cat. My hands were...

Take The Reins

I think this is the time to start
It is better than any, yes?
I believe now is the time we must take this horse by it's reins
Whether we've a good grip or not
It is important we grab at it and hold on with all of our might
What might keep us on?
Is it love for what we do, I would think so
But for some it is sacrifice
Which also trails it's way back into Love's footsteps.
It is funny isn't it
Just how much we can be immovable once we recognize what we are taking the reins for
I think it is time to start
Time to take the reins

Too Well (3)

Catherine screamed once before the Master clamped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her by her skirt, tugging her forward to level with his steel gray eyes boring into her frightful ones. She tried to wriggle away but he just tightened his grip and talked in a low threatening voice. "You will come with me cooperatively or face my whip. Do you understand me servant girl?"
Catherine nodded, once, and Master let his hand fall from her mouth but tugged her forth by her skirts.
They sped down the narrow passage, Catherine wondering if she could tear away once they passed the stables without ripping her dress to ribbons. But he didn't turn the way she thought he would. Instead, he turned and strode down the hall that led to the Master and Mistresses chambers. She herself barely traveled there, it being Maggie's job to attend them and dress them while Catherine cooked, cleaned, and assisted.
For a wretched...

Too Well (3)

Catherine screamed once before the Master clamped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her by her skirt, tugging her forward to level with his steel gray eyes boring into her frightful ones. She tried to wriggle away but he just tightened his grip and talked in a low threatening voice. "You will come with me cooperatively or face my whip. Do you understand me servant girl?"
Catherine nodded, once, and Master let his hand fall from her mouth but tugged her forth by her skirts.
They sped down the narrow passage, Catherine wondering if she could tear away once they passed the stables without ripping her dress to ribbons. But he didn't turn the way she thought he would. Instead, he turned and strode down the hall that led to the Master and Mistresses chambers. She herself barely traveled there, it being Maggie's job to attend them and dress them while Catherine cooked, cleaned, and assisted.
For a wretched...

Too Well (3)

Catherine screamed once before the Master clamped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her by her skirt, tugging her forward to level with his steel gray eyes boring into her frightful ones. She tried to wriggle away but he just tightened his grip and talked in a low threatening voice. "You will come with me cooperatively or face my whip. Do you understand me servant girl?"
Catherine nodded, once, and Master let his hand fall from her mouth but tugged her forth by her skirts.
They sped down the narrow passage, Catherine wondering if she could tear away once they passed the stables without ripping her dress to ribbons. But he didn't turn the way she thought he would. Instead, he turned and strode down the hall that led to the Master and Mistresses chambers. She herself barely traveled there, it being Maggie's job to attend them and dress them while Catherine cooked, cleaned, and assisted.
For a wretched...

Too Well (3)

Catherine screamed once before the Master clamped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her by her skirt, tugging her forward to level with his steel gray eyes boring into her frightful ones. She tried to wriggle away but he just tightened his grip and talked in a low threatening voice. "You will come with me cooperatively or face my whip. Do you understand me servant girl?"
Catherine nodded, once, and Master let his hand fall from her mouth but tugged her forth by her skirts.
They sped down the narrow passage, Catherine wondering if she could tear away once they passed the stables without ripping her dress to ribbons. But he didn't turn the way she thought he would. Instead, he turned and strode down the hall that led to the Master and Mistresses chambers. She herself barely traveled there, it being Maggie's job to attend them and dress them while Catherine cooked, cleaned, and assisted.
For a wretched...

Smacking In The Press

(A smack in the press)

                        To describe Terrance Bullguard would have to be extracting three words that come to mind. 
                        Unstable, unreliable, and devious are all words that I cannot help but think as I acknowledge 
                        this man sadly as a growing threat towards all that our nation holds good and holy. You think
                        rioting is at it's peak now, you will certainly be blown back with no further notice once Mr.
                        Bullguard has taken the stage of which you are voting to put him upon. Instead I would rather
                        as I am sure the rest of the American Citizens do that you elect someone worthy enough that 
                        can properly withstand attacks on our nation's policies and uphold our prospects. This would
                        of course be John Teldon.
                        - P. N.

O

                       To address a certain set of allegations made against me and my intentions once in the position
                        I offer to take willingly, I do not read with a...

Too Well (2)

Jorge knew it had gone wrong as soon as Maggie came running down the pathway. She was breathless, her face red and her hair loose around her shoulders as it never should be if coming with royalty. She ran with her skirts bundled in her hands, panting. "HOI!" Jorge called out, sweeping out of his places on the rocks and flipping in the air, landing before Maggie. "Magdalena," he ordered urgently, hoping the use of her name might make her annoyed enough to speak clearly.
Maggie put a hand on her stomach. "Jorge," she gasped out. "There was another carriage- I only just managed to get away. Aberforth is dead."
Jorge looked at her in shock. "James?"
Maggie clutched her bosom. "I'm not sure."
"Are they on their way Maggie?" Jorge demanded. Her expression was answer enough. Jorge turned to the jumble of rocks. "BACK! GET BACK TO PLIDGE!" he shouted, other men and women climbing out cautiously and frantically...

Too Well (1)

She had played her part well. She'd smiled and curtsied as she did to the Masters and Mistresses as she did everyday, according to plan, playing it little by little and making sure no one suspected a thing. She'd led her nobles to the square like she'd been told to do so with the same reassuring smile on her face, the same hunched shoulders ready to buckle her masters shoes or tie her Mistresses bodice immediately if need be. Then it was up to Maggie to finish the job and escort them into the carriage.  She sat on the stool in wait, the pots and pans of the underground kitchen hanging over her head. They should be here any minute to tell her the plan had worked. She'd gotten the Master and the pregnant Mistress out of reach of the confused guard and into the country side, where Maggie was taking them to the bluff where they'd be captured. She...

Smacking In The Press

(A smack in the press)

Terrance Bullguard,

In short a political tyrant who's sole intent is to destroy the great history we are making.

-P.N.

-John Teldon,

I'm not sure what history your making but I'm just telling things like they are. So that in the future when they ask who tried to destroy the great land we have planted our boots upon and planted seeds on, I can actually give their name. And unlike you, 'P.N.' I am not afraid to give my name.
-Terrance Bullguard

-Terrance Bullguard,

You must first put a foot forward and effort to be able to call yourself a politician. You have done nothing of the sort so for you to try to say that this country is leading to it's own demise is treason in itself.

-John Teldon

-John Teldon,

I have tried to do many things, most of which have failed. The only thing that I have been growing strength in is...

Hallelujah

She stood up on the roof of the barn house and watched night fall over the fen. Kim and Terry had already gone to sleep, and they had put her to bed. She smiled to herself and thought of how she'd slipped off the rope tying and unlatched her old window, climbing up there. It was a beautiful night really- not clear, but the moon was just as visible, waving down at her from his perch. Just like he used to do before the kid-napping. Two days ago she'd been in her uncle's lap and walking by her mother in the grocery store.
She should've been chilled from the cold, but she wasn't. The moon, strangely enough, gave her all the warmth she could want. Below her the chickens dipped their heads and ruffled feathers, preparing for the sleep before a demanding tomorrow came. The donkey brayed once before letting his head drop and kneeling inside his stable. An owl hooted...

Slow Seeing

Untouched By Man

Far away, in a cold place with snow hanging onto leaves like fringes of snowflakes, unwilling to fall, there is a group of trees, a forest. Snow drifts and patches of icy skates cover where lakes had frozen over and where the land had been covered in the layer. The buzz of life was not as clear as it was in other forests, but it was there. An owl slept in a tree, blue snowflakes dissipated on the nose of a arctic fox lying in wait, the bushy white tail of rabbit creeping to eat some of the mint. A cold sun looked upon this place with a seemingly gentle stare. A wolverine is burrowed in it's hole with the remains of a hare in it's jaws, a dove cries into the height of the trees.
This is the place of beauty and simplicity.
This is a natural phenomenon. Why? Well that would be because this is untouched by man.

I Am Staring At The Counter

I am staring at the counter
While they pull up in their skirts 
Skin- tight jeans
And hair up so high you know it hurts

The doorbell rings evidently
Like no one doesn't know they're here
Kicks a leg over the stool and
Orders three glasses of beer

I am jotting down the order
While the girl with make up cries
The boy with sunglasses
Has red around his eyes

A blonde guy with the corvette
Has his arms around a girl
Who's curves are catching eyes
Hair straight, no curls

They joke with eachother
The blonde one grabs the collar of his friend
He pushes him off the chair
And the friend laughs for pretend

The blonde starts to crack jokes
I pour out the drinks
They slap each other's shoulders
The blonde tells them what he thinks

I am just the waitress
I'd loose my job if I
Said anything to blonde kid
With the girl's legs on...

Let This Land Be The Land Of The Free Leading Freedom Into New Light

Freedom, do you speak for all?
After everything we've been doing
To keep you alive and open to all call
Are your numbers few and brewing?
I wish to say yes
But I have the strangest feeling, you see
That you have ended at the oppressed
And we've stooped to accept this is your glee
No
If we are to stand it must be not on the shoulders of others
Delve deeper than the said guideline
Save as many sisters as you do brothers
Help to show everyone you can do this freedom
Let this land be the land of the free leading freedom into new light.


 

You Have A Choice

Rejoice son, rejoice
Know you always have a choice
No longer will you follow orders blindly
Fear and Hate will never bow kindly
But you, my burst of hope
Won't be forced to elope
With ideas that seem futile to you
You will look at what we drew
We hope you're proud
Above all, be loud
Tell the world what you stand for
Tell them what you shout from the steps of your door
Don't fall victim, son
And if you must run
Go forward into the brew of the storm
If we are to stand it must be in form
Stand above all for what you believe
Whatever that would be, do not take easy leave
I love you and I hope you choose
Something that you won't confuse
With anyone else's other than your own
Check the nest from which you you've flown

 

You Have A Choice

Rejoice son, rejoice
Know you always have a choice
No longer will you follow orders blindly
Fear and Hate will never bow kindly
But you, my burst of hope
Won't be forced to elope
With ideas that seem futile to you
You will look at what we drew
We hope you're proud
Above all, be loud
Tell the world what you stand for
Tell them what you shout from the steps of your door
Don't fall victim, son
And if you must run
Go forward into the brew of the storm
If we are to stand it must be in form
Stand above all for what you believe
Whatever that would be, do not take easy leave
I love you and I hope you choose
Something that you won't confuse
With anyone else's other than your own
Check the nest which you from you've flown

 

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Stay

The ashen-faced boy with gray streaked through his hazel-nut hair grabbed her arm. She didn't have time for it but she turned to him anyway, imagining how the boy must feel to be standing in the house where the bomb had struck. The last place he had seen his family before going to school that morning. The last place to say goodbye. He either didn't say anything or she didn't hear, which was much more likely since they were near a bomb site. She would have to get to the safe bunker. But the boy's grip was iron.
"Stay."

She Starts To Dance

She starts to dance.
Everybody stares at her in shock and amusement as the shy quiet girl starts to awkwardly sway with the music and sing and bob her head and arms up and down. It sure isn't breakdancing, and it isn't a dance that wants someone to dance with her necessarily. It's just dancing to the music itself, like there was only her and the notes. Somebody started to laugh in the back and a few of them started to point. She seems to have a jello case around her and she can't hear them, though she did falter one step when they started. Soon a lot of people are either politely smiling or calling her out. Then a girl shorter than her pushes her way to the front and starts dancing next to her, her own kind of dance. Then a girl taller than both of them goes up and starts kicking out and dancing and a boy...

Rochambeau

"The code word is Rochambeau dig me?"

Returning

Old Eyes

I looked around and saw so many people around me blocking my view. It was a party that we were back, finally, from the second dimension. But I didn't want a party. I wanted my home. I saw the old trailer behind a bunch of hedges and a joyous smile spread across my face. I ducked under their arms as they swung each other around and danced and talked. It was funny how I was one of the main people the party was for but I could easily leave. I snuck though just in case. You never knew when someone might be looking. I hunched over and padded up the stairs onto my porch. Already it felt good- the grains of wood underneath my feet and the softness of the rugs that Gran had layed so precisely to ensure no dirt made it into her house. A lamp that could be switched on and off from the inside. It was...

Talking to “You”

Second Person

"You are a mistake!" yammers aunt Hilda's voice through the invisible wall you've put up to try to block her out. You sigh and start towards the door. She doesn't stop- she never does.
"A dirty rotten mistake that showed up on the doorstep-" she continued as you close the front door and shoulder your backpack, hoping you remembered everything. You see the bus pull up in all it's yellow and black glory with a daring red stop-sign. popping out gingerly as it rumbles to a stop. You walk across the yard and wince when you hear the door open behind you. "You will never be able to carry on your name. I feel sorry for those who know you! Including myself and your classmates."
You wait with a burning face as the door slides open and climb on as your caretaker shouts insults from the doorway in her silk robe. Her hair was in pink rollers that looked almost...

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Stay

The ashen-faced boy with gray streaked through his hazel-nut hair grabbed her arm. She didn't have time for it but she turned to him anyway, imagining how the boy must feel to be standing in the house where the bomb had struck. The last place he had seen his family before going to school that morning. The last place to say goodbye. He either didn't say anything or she didn't hear, which was much more likely since they were near a bomb site. She would have to get to the safe bunker. But the boy's grip was iron.
"Stay."

Trump Had Won

Racism, Sexism, Unconstitutionality, Captivity, No Rights, Liar, and Arrogance, as well as many of their lesser spawn, had meet in the sewers of Washington D.C. They were starting to get desperate- no one looked at them the same way with the same regard as they had before. And try as they might, none of them seemed to be as popular, as cool as they used to be. People looked through them even. Truly, they were starting to get invisible. None of them knew what to do- they'd tried many things. Rants, and fake accounts, trying their best to bring Americans to their knees right back where they started. Not long ago they had noticed that No Rights had started to fade indefinitely, his arms missing until the elbows.
"What are we to do?" they wailed to eachother.
No one knew what to do. No one had an answer. No one believed there was a way to come back from this. ...

She Is Love

I let her have my heart.
I let her have my trust.
I let her have my secrets.
I let her have my lust.
I let her have my hunger.
I let her have my anger.
I let her have my sadness.
I let her have my confusion.
I let her have my past.
I let her have my present.
I let her have my hand.
I let her have my feelings.
I let her have my everything.
                                                                She took it
                                                                 She held it
                                                                She looked
                                                                 She listened
                                                                She heard
                                                                  She felt
                                                                 She smelled it
                                                                   She tasted it
                                                                 She gripped it
                                                                  And tore it
                                                                  Again and again
                                                                   Ripping through the
                                                                   Countless of layers
                                                                  Crumbling all my
                                                                   Everything to ash.
I watched her walk away.
She had given me
Nothing.
What had I gotten?
The pieces of my everything
To glue and tape and staple back together.
Do...

Why, How, and Wonder

Why did Abraham get into that box?
Why do birds sing in the morning but not in the evening?
Why did the cow jump over the moon?
Why do branches break?

How do planes get lost?
How is it possible humans think they know everything?
How do fool-proof plans fail?
How is it we haven't learned from our mistakes?

Maybe the question isn't so unanswerable.
Maybe Abraham was talked into it.
Maybe the birds go to sleep early.
Maybe the cow saw some stars and wanted them more.
Maybe a kid swung on it too much.

My my,
Maybe the planes went to another dimension.
Maybe humans think there is nothing else to know.
Maybe the plans aren't genius-proof.
Maybe some people never care to look back on our mistakes.


Maybe we just need to start thinking outside the box.
Maybe we just need to start limiting ourselves.
Maybe we just need to ask these questions.
And though we may...

Wake Up

Wake up
Young one
Wake up
Wake up

You've not
Been forgotten
About
So wake up

Old one
Don't fade
You are
Unafraid

So we
Haven't forgotten
About
You
Wake up

Wake up
Sister
Wake up
You've not

Been forgotten
About
So Wake up
Sister
 
Wake up
Brother
You both
Find eachother

We've
Not forgotten
About you
Brother

Oh my
Mother
Wake up
From cover

You've not
Been forgotten
About
Mother
Make me proud

Father
Listen
Wake up
We've all been distant

But we
Haven't forgotten
You
Wake up

Loved Ones
See truth
We've not
Forgotten you

Wake up
Loved Ones
Daughters
and Sons

Oh Lover
Wake up
I love no other
Wake up

You aren't
Forgotten
In this net
We're caught in

So wake up
So wake up
So wake up
Wake, up

Don't sleep
Longer
You are
Stronger

You are
A part
Of this
Like it or not

We never
Forget our
Young
Old
Sister
Brother
Mother ...

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Stay

The ashen-faced boy with gray streaked through his hazel-nut hair grabbed her arm. She didn't have time for it but she turned to him anyway, imagining how the boy must feel to be standing in the house where the bomb had struck. The last place he had seen his family before going to school that morning. The last place to say goodbye. He either didn't say anything or she didn't hear, which was much more likely since they were near a bomb site. She would have to get to the safe bunker. But the boy's grip was iron.
"Stay."

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Stay

The ashen-faced boy with gray streaked through his hazel-nut hair grabbed her arm She didn't have time for it but she turned to him anyway, imagining how the boy must feel to be standing in the house where the bomb had struck. The last place he had seen his family before going to school that morning. The last place to say goodbye. He either didn't say anything or she didn't hear, which was much more likely since they were near a bomb site. She would have to get to the safe bunker. But the boy's grip was iron.
"Stay."

Trump Had Won

Racism, Sexism, Unconstitutionality, Captivity, No Rights, Liar, and Arrogance, as well as many of their lesser spawn, had meet in the sewers of Washington D.C. They were starting to get desperate- no one looked at them the same way with the same regard as they had before. And try as they might, none of them seemed to be as popular, as cool as they used to be. People looked through them even. Truly, they were starting to get invisible. None of them knew what to do- they'd tried many things. Rants, and fake accounts, trying their best to bring Americans to their knees right back where they started. Not long ago they had noticed that No Rights had started to fade indefinitely, his arms missing until the elbows.
"What are we to do?" they wailed to eachother.
No one knew what to do. No one had an answer. No one believed there was a way to come back from this. ...

I Imagine

I imagine a purple quill. A purple feathered quill that is, with a white center that is tipped in the inky dark jar that it sits in by an empty sheet of paper. What else do I see? A lamp. A good lamp, the one that glows yellow instead of white, the way I like it. Maybe it's they way it hits the page and lights it up, making it seem more and more magical. Magical even before a story is born because it knows that it is one of the most vital things to an author- an empty page, staring mocking them to write on them. And so writers will write.

I imagine silky bed-sheets and a feather-filled pillow. A bed with a golden headboard that has some orange nail polish on it, making quite a statement. I imagine a teenager on that bed wondering why so many people hate the color orange and crossing their legs and uncrossing...

The Surface

Niccolo hadn't ridden a shade horse all the way to the seam before, let alone beyond to the surface. The one he had found apparently hadn't either.
"Pull up! Pull-" Niccolo nearly went vertical when the horse jerked upwards to satisfy him. Niccolo gripped onto the thread mane and didn't look back.
The seam was the entrance to the surface. It was basically a spot in their cave-like sky that opened whenever someone got to close to it. If he looked down behind him now he would see the courtyard, and tar-lake, and all of the castle in it's gloomy despair.
The thing was- he knew that the seam had some.... side effects. You had to focus on where to go in the world or it would pop you out basically anywhere it wanted to. Middle of the Pacific Ocean? Sure thing. Antarctica? No problem. Indonesia? Don't worry about it. But the place Niccolo had to go was a strange...

Son Of Nyx

The fortress was of course bathed in darkness. As it always was. Niccolo seemed to be the only one who noticed, seeing as everyone else sunk into the shadows like a second-nature. Niccolo sighed and hugged his knees to his chest, exhaling. Would a little candle be too much to ask? Just a little flame, enough to keep him warm, to keep him occupied. He would rather spend his days watching the dancing of a single flame instead of basking in the darkness like all of his brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts.
Then there was his mother. He could never ask her for any light because she had none to give, nor any to shed on why the shadows still felt cold to him, why the darkness wasn't as welcoming as it should be for him. Nyx rarely ever saw him anyway, in this maze of a castle with prisoners going back and forth to her chambers. Some...

Son Of Nyx

The fortress was of course bathed in darkness. As it always was. Niccolo seemed to be the only one who noticed, seeing as everyone else sunk into the shadows like a second-nature. Niccolo sighed and hugged his knees to his chest, exhaling. Would a little candle be too much to ask? Just a little flame, enough to keep him warm, to keep him occupied. He would rather spend his days watching the dancing of a single flame instead of basking in the darkness like all of his brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts.
Then there was his mother. He could never ask her for any light because she had none to give, nor any to shed on why the shadows still felt cold to him, why the darkness wasn't as welcoming as it should be for him. Nyx rarely ever saw him anyway, in this maze of a castle with prisoners going back and forth to her chambers. Some...

Son Of Nyx

The fortress was of course bathed in darkness. As it always was. Niccolo seemed to be the only one who noticed, seeing as everyone else sunk into the shadows like a second-nature. Niccolo sighed and hugged his knees to his chest, exhaling. Would a little candle be too much to ask? Just a little flame, enough to keep him warm, to keep him occupied. He would rather spend his days watching the dancing of a single flame instead of basking in the darkness like all of his brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts.
Then there was his mother. He could never ask her for any light because she had none to give, nor any to shed on why the shadows still felt cold to him, why the darkness wasn't as welcoming as it should be for him. Nyx rarely ever saw him anyway, in this maze of a castle with prisoners going back and forth to her chambers. Some...

Returning

Old Eyes

I looked around and saw so many people around me blocking my view. It was a party that we were back, finally, from the second dimension. But I didn't want a party. I wanted my home. I saw the old trailer behind a bunch of hedges and a joyous smile spread across my face. I ducked under their arms as they swung eachother around and danced and talked. It was funny how I was one of the main people the party was for but I could easily leave. I snuck though just in case. You never knew when someone might be looking. I hunched over and padded up the stairs onto my porch. Already it felt good- the grains of wood underneath my feet and the softness of the rugs that Gran had layed so precisely to ensure no dirt made it into her house. A lamp that could be switched on and off from the inside. It was funny...

I Choose God

I will never let you go unnoticed
I will never let you go
I will never let you go
I will never let you
I will never let
I will never
I will
I
I decide
I decide what
I decide what I
I decide what I will
I decide what I will do
I decide what I will
I decide what I
I decide what
I decide
I
I choose
I choose God

Voice

Police lights flashing, burning my eyes even through my eyelids. Sirens are screaming in my ears and I can't hear anything else except them. Trying to cover my ears, my eyes, my face, something, but I can't block it out and not a moment later do I feel someone grab my shoulders.
I don't know if they hear me but I scream out and open my eyes, only to be blinded by the lights. Someone else is coming and I hear them crunch over to me, wearing boots. The one who grabbed my shoulders leans in and in a gruff voice says, "Shut up."
I fall silent, not wanting to get tazed or sprayed. But I don't comply either. Let them see me dragged into the police car. Let them see my head be ducked into the cruiser and driven away.
The lights fade and I am able to see my friends on the other side of police forces, screaming and...

Lexical Catharsis

Friends

Chett looked up and smoothed back his hair, smiling and adjusting his glasses. He wore a orange and blue flannel shirt, his lucky shirt, over a gray 'Science Club!' with an atom on the front. He hesitantly looked at the girl of his dreams- Kim. She had mid-length blond hair, blush, and the longest eyelashes he had ever seen. She crossed her legs and laughed along with her group of friends. Take a breath. Chett breathed in and out through his mouth. It felt good, letting himself exhale. Today was the day. He exhaled and let the nerves go before cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders.
Chett walked over. She didn't look away from her friend's face until he was standing next to her lunch table. "Kim," he said.
Kim looked over and up at him with a surprised face. "Chett?"
Chett forced a clammy smile. "Hey Kim. I was, uh, wondering..."
Kim blinked up at him and her...

Reflection

The pond glimmered back at her, reflecting the birds and the trees. She stared at the pond and wondered with an extent of knowledge previously unbeknownst to her, how many people had seen the same thing. She knew no one else had seen what she saw. She saw a girl with glowing eyes, no color, just glowing. She saw a girl with a green dress on and pearl earrings. She saw a girl with snowy white skin. She saw a girl with chocolate hair like a Hershey kiss. She saw a girl with a perfect nose that looked like she had just dabbed at it with some rouge. She saw a girl with a small forehead. She saw a girl with a full pair of lips. She saw a girl wearing black buckle-up shoes. She saw a girl with a look of caution and excitement. She saw a girl with hair around her neck from tucking half of it into...

Lexical Catharsis

Friends

Chett looked up and smoothed back his hair, smiling and adjusting his glasses. He wore a orange and blue flannel shirt, his lucky shirt, over a gray 'Science Club!' with an atom on the front. He hesitantly looked at the girl of his dreams- Kim. She had mid-length blond hair, blush, and the longest eyelashes he had ever seen. She crossed her legs and laughed along with her group of friends. Take a breath. Chett breathed in and out through his mouth. It felt good, letting himself exhale. Today was the day. He exhaled and let the nerves go before cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders.
Chett walked over. She didn't look away from her friend's face until he was standing next to her lunch table. "Kim," he said.
Kim looked over and up at him with a surprised face. "Chett?"
Chett forced a clammy smile. "Hey Kim. I was, uh, wondering..."
Kim blinked up at him and her...

Hold

I need to save my son
I need to make sure my son is in my arms
How can I let him go through with this?
I won't allow it.

I need to get to him.
How could I let my husband talk me into
Letting me stay with my sons and daughters?
No No No. I need him here

I imagine my son's cheeks
Faint pink from the cold
His mouth a hard line
Facing a man with no heart

No heart
Only lust
A want for blood
A finger on the trigger

This man will not make a mourner of me!
I will reach my son
I know this
I can feel it

But there is something I can't shake
A deep sense of awful bile
Something rising in my bosom
I will stop this man

I must stop this man

I hear it from behind the crowded area of which I push against.
1 2 3 4...

The Orphanage

Thomas seems like a gentlemen, like my son. Like Philip. He will excel, I am sure of it, if only his teachers give him the chance he deserves.
Eric has gray eyes, always thinking, always planning. If he doesn't turn out to be a scholar or even the president one day, I will be shocked to my very bones.
Abigail always wears her hair up- I wait for the day she will let it down, along with the walls around her. I wait for the day she will let herself know how good she truly is.
Richard has the smallest hands, the smallest face, the smallest body out of them all- but there is no doubt he carries with him the biggest heart known to man.
William wishes to return to the south were troubles unknown to the rest of us await to him. But I feel his bravery every day that he tells me about how he wishes to bring...

Hold

I need to save my son
I need to make sure my son is in my arms
How can I let him go through with this?
I won't allow it.

I need to get to him.
How could I let my husband talk me into
Letting me stay with my sons and daughters?
No No No. I need him here

I imagine my son's cheeks
Faint pink from the cold
His mouth a hard line
Facing a man with no heart

No heart
Only lust
A want for blood
A finger on the trigger

This man will not make a mourner of me!
I will reach my son
I know this
I can feel it

But there is something I can't shake
A deep sense of awful bile
Something rising in my bosom
I will stop this man

I must stop this man

I hear it from behind the crowded area of which I push against.
1 2 3 4...

Children

Oh Daughter, what to say to you?
You are one I will always stand by
You're the only one I need to look to
To remind me of the times I needed strength to try

Oh Daughter
Your smile is so infectious
I pray thanks for you

I will love you deeply
You will never be left alone to suffer
With you I laugh freely
Between us there is no need for a buffer

There I was thinking
I was so great
Your eyes are linking
Me to my best fate

Oh Son, how do I, explain to you
What a joy you are, son
How much I need you
To just see your smile, son

Oh Son
Your face is so kind
I pray thanks for you

I will keep you there next to my heart
I apologize if I seem selfish, keeping you near
But when you laugh, I'm afraid my sadness falls apart
Just being with you,...

Writing Small

Matchstick

See it? I do. I see a small person, not necessarily a child, just siting there. In the rain; holding something small in their hands. I squint my eyes to see what it is. I realize with an awed smile, it is a matchstick. On fire even in the rain.

No One Told Them

No one told them.
No one told them they couldn't raise the stakes.
No one told them they couldn't send it.
No one told them they had no business doing what they did.
No one told them they couldn't write it down.
No one told them they couldn't rise.
No one told them they wouldn't amount to anything.
No one told them they won't live to see that day.
And damn right they didn't.
Because they would of been wrong.

It All Go Now

Did I live up to your expectations
Am I who you want to see
Rocking worlds and ruling nations?
Do I act like I am me?
Am I who I'm supposed to be?

(beat picks up, adds a drum to guitar)

Nervous, sweating, can't stand on my feet,
Trying not to let it show.
I can feel my heart skip a beat
When you make sure to let me know

You are weak
You aren't even good
Things look bleak
Lucky I came to help when I could
Now just stand still and face the mike, sing and try to get it right, we don't want your mistakes, to mess our chance up for your sake.

...

Is this who I am?
A part of your scene?
I feel like I'm a dam
That's ex-plod-ing.
And you just charge the batteringram

It's who I am, it's who I'm not
You thought you were clever
Convincing me I could be bought ...

No One Won Here

(Last speech of a man before being shot. Sorry I know this is surprisingly random. Johnny Penswin will continue soon.)

Here we are here we are here we are
The paces are being put in place
I can hear the men beside themselves
And the women in hushed whispers.

How will they remember me?
As the one with a dream?
The one who always kept up with the news?
The one who saved his child?

Or will I be tarnished?
Will people see my hardships as self-started?
Will I be the man who killed his brother-in-law?
The man who died and left his family to provide?

This life, this love, this legacy
This is honest truth?
Am I condoning the last duel I take to be my last?
If not, then what?

Will I get to grow old?
Wither away on my rocking chair?
Writing still, fighting still
Making a difference.

Would everything be settled?
Would I die before my...

Truths and Untruths

I Wish

I wish it was true that Climate Change did not exist.
I wish there was more time.
I wish I got to go to Ireland.
I wish my father and mother were both happy.
I wish I could fly.
I wish for a better schedule.
I wish we had more money.
I wish I had more books.
I wish I had tickets to see a certain musical.
I wish I could have more time to go to Church.

Mender

There is a hole
A fissure
A gap
A fault line

And then there are the fillers
That try to occupy those holes
Those fissures
Those gaps
Those fault lines

Why? To hide it from society?

We do not need a filler.
We need a mender.

I Have To See

I will rise out of the dark
A plume of white creates a spark
Watch for me cause here I am
No pushing me off this stand

Forget me, I dare you
I'll come back and scare you
See the life I am meant to be
A dream I just have to see

I'm no stranger to the troubles
Look away for an instant and the task doubles
We've all been pushed beyond the limit
Think you're done then your half-way in it.

Time almost up you don't think you finish
Fear rising, and you'll wish
It was coming to it's close
The piece starts to lose the prose

Look at your hands and push away the lows
Think of how deep this goes
Make no excuse for what's happened
Not for the place you've felt trapped in

I won't make you find your voice
Rising up is all your choice
But try not to cry if I bade
Goodbye...

Life Through Letters

March 19, 1778
Dear Jared Pierot,

     It is often strange that I find Lady Laurel standing in front of the door. She stares at it, as if waiting for someone to come inside and sweep her away. Whom besides you, sir, might she be standing for? Waiting outside the door of our common life room?
Pray tell, might thy ask, what should I say to her? Under your orders of course, but I feel that I might have to step in as you are riding away to Elizabethtown in the morning. I ask for some instructions in case the worst was to happen and ask you might talk with Lady Laurel. I am not known for expertise when it comes to enquiring others about hidden things, and often am gullible. I am fully aware of this and hope to see you later this night before dawn break for further instructions. 
 The Best of Wishes,
Your Son-in-law,
Ladian Defane

.

April 22,...

Life Through Letters

March 19, 1778
Dear Jared Pierot,

     It is often strange that I find Lady Laurel standing in front of the door. She stares at it, as if waiting for someone to come inside and sweep her away. Whom besides you, sir, might she be standing for? Waiting outside the door of our common life room?
Pray tell, might thy ask, what should I say to her? Under your orders of course, but I feel that I might have to step in as you are riding away to Elizabethtown in the morning. I ask for some instructions in case the worst was to happen and ask you might talk with Lady Laurel. I am not known for expertise when it comes to enquiring others about hidden things, and often am gullible. I am fully aware of this and hope to see you later this night before dawn break for further instructions. 
 The Best of Wishes,
Your Son-in-law,
Ladian Defane

.

April 22,...

Life Through Letters

March 19, 1778
Dear Jared Pierot,

     It is often strange that I find Lady Laurel standing in front of the door. She stares at it, as if waiting for someone to come inside and sweep her away. Whom besides you, sir, might she be standing for? Waiting outside the door of our common life room?
Pray tell, might thy ask, what should I say to her? Under your orders of course, but I feel that I might have to step in as you are riding away to Elizabethtown in the morning. I ask for some instructions in case the worst was to happen and ask you might talk with Lady Laurel. I am not known for expertise when it comes to enquiring others about hidden things, and often am gullible. I am fully aware of this and hope to see you later this night before dawn break for further instructions. 
 The Best of Wishes,
Your Son-in-law,
Ladian Defane

.

April 22,...

Love

Isn't it funny how every little thing can change? Even the smallest bud of a flower can grow into a beautiful colorful being of nature and pollinate and be pollinated. It's all so small and one simple mistake can set it all off. So I wonder what sets us off. What force of nature will bend us painfully, whether it be in loops or just a simple crack or fissure down our middle. What brings us to tears and makes us cry? What subtle change can take our life and make it change from a bud to a field of color so drastically? I look for the answer and realize that most usually it is not darkness nor sadness, anger nor despair. It is love, something described to be either best or worst change in our life.
N’est-il pas drôle comment chaque petite chose peut changer ? Même le plus petit bourgeon de fleur peut se transformer en une belle...

Wants and Needs

What do I want? I don't know. I know what I don't want- to let people make me think I want things. Because wanting something is to feel inside that you 'need' it, or how it would complete something or an extra side of you might show through because of that want. Of course the Webster's dictionary definition is pretty much the same, a desire for something.
I think of what I want again. Hm. Well I would want a clean slate. Yes, yes, that would do it. A clean slate where I could look forward to writing peacefully or spending time with my books. A clean slate is what I want, please and thank you.
Of course I want something that I won't get. Well then, what else would I want? To have more inspiration really. But inspiration strikes, you cant force it to come can you? Or, you could inspire yourself, but I am also tired and weary....

Mission

I looked over it all. All of it, it was my mission, I had to take it all in and let it dwell inside me, breathe through me and become a part of me. That was my mission anyway. They wanted me to get as much of the culture as I could.
What a load of bull. Why did they think I could do this? I messed up everything. I crossed my arms stubbornly as they pulled the big sandy jeep to a stop in front of my new living space. They'd taken care of my passports and everything, even gave me a wad of 1000 dollars as well as paying for the room and education and daily food. Be that as it may I would die for a taco right about now.
I asked what I would need an extra thousand for but they just shrugged. Accessories? Maybe. You never knew even though I've already got my disguise ready...

Chapter One: Well, My Name Is Billy and I Am Regretting Some Life Choices Right Now

    So Ears, huh? Nice to have, and I guess my mother wanted a second pair because she had a grip like iron, tugging me to my room. "Charles!" she shrieked shrilly, calling for my father.
    My father was a tall, big man with a fists that he loved to hammer on the coffee table when he was rowdy. Quite contrasting to my mother, who had slender fingers that could pick locks. I'd inherited hers, which was dead useful, cause I was all about picking locks. "Charles, your son has been to the Hartheer's shed!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.
   "Billy!" he rumbled.
    Yeah, I know, but it's Billy, and I was kinda proud of my name. Reminded me of Billy the Kid. My father lumbered into view as I entered my room, which was full of vases that my great aunt insisted on giving me. My father sat on my red bed wearing a classic Charles flannel shirt. "Billy!"...

Execution

20 is the number they say they'll count to, adding an extra ten because they can see the indecision in my eyes.
19. I have 19 seconds before it happens. I can run or try to knock them away from me or I can stand and not be afraid or ashamed anymore.
18. Here they come closer to me. Will they stay true and give me all the time they said they would?
17. I can only hope so. I ready myself and look frantically around.
16. There is a man on either side of me ready to grab me if I try to escape, but their guard is low, I can tell. I've already endured so much they don't think I have the strength to continue.
15. The man with the cross bow is looking at me, and I can here him counting under his breath until the moment he can pull the trigger and end it all right...

Your World in Three Senses

Consequences

I feel the keys under my fingers as I press into the piano. It's a great piano too- slathered in lacker and little golden hinges to open it up, revealing a stand wear you can prop up some pieces of music. I run my hands through the black ones, like ridges compared to the bigger white ones that look like a giant's set of teeth. They feel a little cold, but they won't after I'm done. I'll have pressed my fingers on them so many times the fleshy warmth will be on there for generations to follow. I close my eyes and let my feet cross at the ankles, my blue bobby sox socks from Christmas proudly on display. I like the warmth- not the sticky feeling you get when you're out in the sun for to long. I like lying on my back in the snow as the sun slowly melts it all. That's what it felt like, the...

Two Hundred Years Ago

Two Hundred Years Ago There Was No One With Enough Money To Afford Paper Easily So I Am Writing It Down Now.

He looked around and smiled slightly to himself as he drew up his drinking flask to his lips. Waist-high field grass swept to his jacket and hen pulled it tighter around himself. Papa would be coming home soon and expecting supper on his plate. Fredrick didn't envy his sisters having to help Mama cook all the time. He looked to the left where trees grew like weeds, so many of them so close together he could already see Mama picking the ticks out of his hair. Behind him were more and more trees so deep green he couldn't help but think they had been growing their for hundreds of years. And to his right and ahead there was only more field and trees, a beautiful mountain in the distance. He smiled and heard a call in the distance. It was time to head home for supper and see what the old politicians were up to. He kicked his legs up to run...

Chapter One: Well, My Name Is Billy and I Am Regretting Some Life Choices Right Now

So Ears, huh? Nice to have, and I guess my mother wanted a second pair because she had a grip like iron, tugging me to my room. "Charles!" she shrieked shrilly, calling for my father.
My father was a tall, big man with a fists that he loved to hammer on the coffee table when he was rowdy. Quite contrasting to my mother, who had slender fingers that could pick locks. I'd inherited hers, which was dead useful, cause I was all about picking locks. "Charles, your son has been to the Hartheer's shed!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.
"Billy!" he rumbled.
Yeah, I know, but it's Billy, and I was kinda proud of my name. Reminded me of Billy the Kid. My father lumbered into view as I entered my room, which was full of vases that my great aunt insisted on giving me. My father sat on my red bed wearing a classic Charles flannel shirt. "Billy!"...

Lists of songs


These are songs I use for inspiration and just for myself: (Not all mind you but most)

1. She Used To Be Mine by Sarah Bareilles
2. Brave by Sarah Bareilles
3. All Hamilton songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda
4. Over My Head by The Fray
5. Drops of Jupitar by Train
6. Tell Me It's Real by Seafret
7. Wildfire by Seafret
8. Everything Stays by Olivia Olson
9. Echo by Jason Walker
10. Skinny Love by *sung by* Birdy
11. Piano Man by Billy Joel
12. Pretty much all Steven Universe songs by Rebecca Sugar
13. Say When by the Fray
14. Funky Town by Happy Family
15. Unwell by Twenty Matchbox
16. King of Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men
17. Seventeen by Alessia Cara
18. Wild Things by Alessia Cara
19. Hallujuah *sung by* Pentatonix or Jeff Buckley
20. Harry Potter/Lord of The Rings/Narnia soundtrack

All credit goes to them, and sorry for the typos. :)

Rainbow

Red; is the color of the blood and war, true. It is also the color of love and passion. Isn't it strange that those two go together?
I like to represent red as passion. Passion that runs like my blood, because I will give blood and sweat and tears for my passion that I love and will go to war for.

Blue; Is the color and calm and sadness. Of rain and water. I have been sad before of course, but it is even sadder to hide that behind the calm. You think sadness will wash always in the water or rain and sometimes, it does. But sometimes, it doesn't.

Green; The color of greed and wealth. The color of nature and jealousy. We as people are not all wealthy and we all have an inner greed. Nature is also green, standing out as something pure among these topics, which throws us into a tizzy. If there was ever something...

Fight The Bull, Then Get Kidnapped... Seriously?

Roshi yelped as a small golden package hit through a vase in the window and skittered on top of the table. But it was shaking. Marty ran out yelling, Roshi in hot pursuit, glancing behind her. Slowly, the golden package shook open but inside there were just gears and red stuff... no, just one red thing. Like a heart.
Roshi screamed and dove over the side of her parents' new sofa. Just in time too, because the next time Marty looked uo he winced and gurgled words she wasn't allowed to repeat. "G- G- Gotta get out of here!" he stuttered, crouched and keeling over like he might vomit from fear.
Something fell out of his pocket- the bulge that been there before. Roshi gasped- it was a small statue that sat in her parents' bedroom, priceless from her great aunt. It was a white curved thing that looked like a crescent moon with the three thinnest strings where three...

I was pumped up from Hamilton and I.... :P Well, just see for yourselves

I am listening to Alexander Hamilton musical songs- and guess what?
I realize what we are doing; and by we I mean all of the haters out there that do bad everyday by looking down on people for a certain.
If you are a person who doesn't do this then still read please know this is not about you.
But if you are...
How dare you look down on someone because they are black or muslim or jewish or LGBT.
How dare you break the constitution your founding fathers that died and fought and wrote and lived for this country and eventually you.
How dare you try to say immigrants need to go back to where they came from because unless your full-blooded indian, YOU ARE ONE.
How dare you try to tarnish what beautiful men and women alike have down to make this country better.
How dare you look around you and wish for a [place where men ruled.

...

Roshi

Roshi Alloinio looked outside her window frowning. Why was she frowning? Well, that was the thing- she wasn't even sure really. Roshi got her sketches and colored pencils, lying back on her bouncy bed and barely avoiding hitting her head on the frame. Her lazy ceiling fan gave her just the right amount of breeze in her room, not too fast to make her cold and fast enough to keep her from sweating. A small girl she had drawn with black hair whipping around her waist and huge eyes staring at him. She liked the sketch- it kept appearing in her dreams actually. Not quite as big of eyes, but still, they seemed to stand out. And the hair certainly was not as long, but still just as dark and pretty. Roshi pushed her own black hair out of her eyes and looked up at her door as heavier footfalls made their way to her room.
The door slid open with...

Mystery Writing Competition 2017

Intruder

I pulled my red beanie lower around my ears and looked at the end of the hallway. I shined the flashlight forward, my tongue too lead-like to move. I didn't want to either. I quickly shut off the flashlight and crept forward silently, not wanting anyone to see me if they were there. My legs grew achy like they were ready to sprint all the way down the black and into the nearest taxi cab. My breath was coming in slow spurts as I tried to calm my nerves and stop my blood from rushing as the sound of a creak filled the end of the hall.
I pressed myself as quietly as I could against the wall as a flit of light illuminates the middle of the sky and I squeeze my eyes almost shut, just open enough to see the figure that lumbers out. I try not to scream but I don't think I can anyway- my lungs...

Roshi

Roshi Alloinio looked outside her window frowning. Why was she frowning? Well, that was the thing- she wasn't even sure really. Roshi got her sketches and colored pencils, lying back on her bouncy bed and barely avoiding hitting her head on the frame. Her lazy ceiling fan gave her just the right amount of breeze in her room, not to fast to make her cold and fast enough to keep her from sweating. A small girl she had drawn with black hair whipping around her waist and huge eyes staring at him. She liked the sketch- it kept appearing in her dreams actually. Not quite as big of eyes, but still, they seemed to stand out. And the hair certainly was not as long, but still just as dark and pretty. Roshi pushed her own black hair out of her eyes and looked up at her door as heavier footfalls made their way to her room.
The door slid open with...

Mystery Writing Competition 2017

Intruder

I pulled my red beanie lower around my ears and looked at the end of the hallway. I shined the flashlight forward, my tongue to lead-like to move. I didn't want to either. I quickly shut off the flashlight and crept forward silently, not wanting anyone to see me if they were there. My legs grew ache like they were ready to sprint all the way down the black and into the nearest taxi cab. My breath was coming in slow spurts as I tried to calm my nerves and stop my blood from rushing as the sound of a creak filled the end of the hall.
I pressed myself as quietly as I could against the wall as a flit of light illuminates the middle of the sky and I squeeze my eyes almost shut, just open enough to see the figure that lumbers out. I try not to scream but I don't think I can anyway- my lungs...

She Is Me

I was standing
At the corner
Of First and Manting
Looking at the windows like a mourner.

They reflect what I knew
Dwindling away
A new kind of brew
A person of pray.

She has brown hair without dyes.
A pair of glasses
That try to hide the circles under her eyes
Watching the masses.

A falling ponytail
A jacket with stars
A key for her mail
Watching out for the cars

Crossing the street at a run
Cause she can't trust those cross-walk signs
A smile ready for fun
Hopping over the sidewalk lines

I know her, I have for a long time
She's still here
Dragging her fingers through the wind chimes
Hiding in the covers out of fear

She is me.
I see her everywhere, and most of the time
She breaks free
Always in her prime.

Tired, yes, but excited too
She has flaws
Lines that she drew
Her own set of laws.

She is silly
But...

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say you're fine
But I know you're not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know you're breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza, give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

Take your seat by the dresser
I'll open the curtains and see the day
Look out onto the streets
Of good old Santa Fe

I know you're breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me...

Numb

Numb.
I feel numb, a shocked dancing sensation that spreads like a ripple of water in my body.
I feel a beautiful miserable knowing.
I feel like even though something has already happened it's not hit yet, not fully.
I feel dread and sadness and I need reassurance.
I need it.
I felt numb.
But now I feel horrible.

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say your fine
But I know your not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza, give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

Take your seat by the dresser
I'll open the curtains and see the day
Look out onto the streets
Of good old Santa Fe

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me...

She Is Me

I was standing
At the corner
Of First and Manting
Looking at the windows like a mourner.

They reflect what I knew
Dwindling away
A new kind of brew
A person of pray.

She has brown hair without dyes.
A pair of glasses
That try to hide the circles under her eyes
Watching the masses.

A falling ponytail
A jacket with stars
A key for her mail
Watching out for the cars

Crossing the street at a run
Cause she can't trust those cross-walk signs
A smile ready for fun
Hoping over the sidewalk lines

I know her, I have for a long time
She's still here
Dragging her fingers through the wind chimes
Hiding in the covers out of fear

She is me.
I see her everywhere, and most of the time
She breaks free
Always in her prime.

Tired, yes, but excited too
She has flaws
Lines that she drew
Her own set of laws.

She is silly
But...

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say your fine
But I know your not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza, give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

Take your seat by the dresser
I'll open the curtains and see the day
Look out onto the streets
Of good old Santa Fe

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me...

Oranges

I crave oranges
Ah, the goodness of citrus
I want some juice now

___________________

Behold, the almighty
Wrath of onions! Take a bite
You'll smell all night long

____________________

I have big plans so
Let's get cracking- wait, why are-
Run to the car! Car!

_____________________

It's so dusty here
I'll go get the vaccum now
Is that a mouse hole?

_____________________

I hate groceries
And shopping for them is so...
What? Didn't mean it Mom

_____________________


 

Oranges

I crave oranges
Ah, the goodness of citrus
I want some juice now

I Have To See

I will rise out of the dark
A plume of white creates a spark
Watch for me cause here I am
No pushing me off this stand

Forget me, I dare you
I'll come back and scare you
See the life I am meant to be
A dream I just have to see

I'm no stranger to the troubles
Look away for an instant and the task doubles
We've all been pushed beyond the limit
Think you're done then your half-way in it.

Time almost up you don't think you finish
Fear rising, and you'll wish
It was coming to it's close
The piece starts to lose the prose

Look at your hands and push away the lows
Think of how deep this goes
Make no excuse for what's happened
Not for the place you've felt trapped in

I won't make you find your voice
Rising up is all your choice
But try not to cry if I bade
Goodbye...

Lost

I'm not missing.
I'm just exploring.
I'm not missing.
I'm just lost.

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say your fine
But I know your not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza, give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

Take your seat by the dresser
I'll open the curtains and see the day
Look out onto the streets
Of good old Santa Fe

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me...

I Have To See

I will rise out of the dark
A plume of white creates a spark
Watch for me cause here I am
No pushing me off this stand

Forget me, I dare you
I'll come back and scare you
See the life I am meant to be
A dream I just have to see

I'm no stranger to the troubles
Look away for an instant and the task doubles
We've all been pushed beyond the limit
Think you're done then your half-way in it.

Time almost up you don't think you finish
Fear rising, and you'll wish
It was coming to an it's close
The piece starts to lose the prose

Look at your hands and push away the lows
Think of how deep this goes
Make no excuse for what's happened
Not for the place you've felt trapped in

I won't make you find your voice
Rising up is all your choice
But try not to cry if I bade ...

Joke

Is it a joke?
That's all I can think while they berate me and laugh and grab at my jacket. What's so funny about this? Why are you all laughing? That's what I think when they grabs my jacket and pull me toward their group deeper and out of the teacher's view. I instinctively kick out and try to get out of my jacket. But they hold my arms to the brick and make more jokes, laughing and hooting.
I close my eyes. I don't want them to see the tears that are starting to form and I cry out in hope the teachers might look up from their books and come around the corner. Someone's hand covers my mouth.
I clench my eyes tightly shut.
I wait for a fist or another joke.
Then
The hand disappears and people start shouting and yelling.
The grips on my arm and jacket seem to be falling into oblivion and I crack my eyes...

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say your fine
But I know your not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I got heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza, give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

No pizza? That's fine
I'll open the curtains and see the...

Songwriting Competition 2017

Listen To You

Hello
May I come in?
Do you know just how
Long it's been?

So you've been through
Quite a lot
They say your fine
But I know your not

Don't worry
It's just me
I've got some pizza
And a movie you wanted to see

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

Let me in we don't have to talk
I'll put the movie in, let it play
We can eat the pizza
That I got heated up from yesterday

Pick off the olives
On my pizza and give them to you
And you'll give me the mushrooms
Like we always do

I know your breaking, just open the door
I'll leave if that's what you want me to do
Just say something please
I swear I'll listen to you

No pizza? That's fine
I'll open the curtains and see...

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: Sir Shiny-Butt

Johnny stood in line with the other squires holding the bag full of 27 coins, 3 short. the card had been tucked safely to the inside of his jerkin where he had taken the time to add pockets on the inside. Garrick was marching along with the other squires, who all looked either hopelessly sad for taking money or too proud. Garrick's chest was jutted out and he nodded at all of them as a signal to go on to the castle and start shinning the armors of their chosen knight. Johnny put on a smile. Who knew? Maybe he wouldn't notice after all and Johnny could go to the knight's cleaning area and look at his card. Yeah, doubtful, but you never knew, right?
Garrick stopped just before him and turned fully, his hands behind his back. He smiled thinly. "Johnny Penswin. This should be interesting."
Johnny smiled just as thinly and tried for a respectful bow atop Arrow,...

Some Distances I've Covered

I'm never changing who I am
Or who I wish to become
I dance, sing, and love my fam
I like to make jokes and have friends come

I like to be myself
I like to see my own side
I like to look at the books on my shelf
I like to keep some pride

I like the way I do things
I like how hard I push me
I like the way my alarmclock rings
To remind myself of all the places I must be

I like the way no one cares
Just as much as you think
I like the way this pays me no fares
But I write in my own ink

I like the way I started something
And I like the way I finish
I like the way I imitate someone who is british

Living in Music

Everything Stays

I have to say the song I'm listening to right now. "Everything Stays" by Marceline, or Olivia Olson, on Adventure Time. Here are the lyrics to go along with the story:

'Let's go in the garden
You'll find something waiting
Right there where you left it
Lying upside down

When you finally find it
You'll see how it's faded
The Underside is lighter
 When you turn it around

Everything Stays
Right where you left it
Everything stays
But it still changes

Ever so slightly
Daily and Nightly
In little ways,
When everything change
 (base)
(plays again)'
*By the way this is a disclaimer I own none of this my friends*

Now, what do I think living in this song would be?
Something like this:

It's nighttime and I'm sitting on the battered up wooden bench on my porch as the wind ruffles the clumps of weeds. A patch of moonlight falls upon the gate that you never bothered to close...

Living in Music

Everything Stays

I have to say the song I'm listening to right now. "Everything Stays" by Marceline, or Olivia Olson, on Adventure Time. Here are the lyrics to go along with the story:

'Let's go in the garden
You'll find something waiting
Right there where you left it
Lying upside down

When you finally find it
You'll see how it's faded
The Underside is lighter
 When you turn it around

Everything Stays
Right where you left it
Everything stays
But it still changes

Ever so slightly
Daily and Nightly
In little ways, everything change
 (base)
(plays again)'
*By the way this is a disclaimer I own none of this my friends*

Now, what do I think living in this song would be?
Something like this:

It's nighttime and I'm sitting on the battered up wooden bench on my porch as the wind ruffles the clumps of weeds. A patch of moonlight falls upon the gate that you never bothered to close on...

Running From the Red Kingdom

I ran through the forest the light of the sun weakening as it tried in vain to flit through the trees and branches. The howling was closer now, and I couldn't afford to let them catch up with me. I had absolutely nothing from my time in prison. But these wolves did have a flaw- they were bumbling baboons when it came to oaths. If I could get them to promise my safety, I was good. Maybe they could even grant me safe transportation across the woods and into the next Kingdom- Blue. Hopefully though, it wouldn't have to come to that and I could outrun them.
But imprisonment, even though it had only been for two months, had taken its toll on me. My legs were stiff and clammy like over-churned butter. My stomach growled in protest as I used the last of the energy from yesterday's dinner for running. The branches and twigs that stuck out cut my...

Venting

I need to vent
Vent Vent Vent
People can make me so ANGRY
Oh, goodness, I hate some people
And the thing is
I haven't even met them!
So I guess I can't hate them truly
But then
I really really really really really really really really really...
am getting tired of typing really.

I feel better now.

To: Past

Past,

My dear past- what a merry-go-round we have ridden. Me, using my present self to search you for what I had done and what had happened. I'll admit it wasn't your fault- what's done is done and there's nothing more to say about it. You simply stood there while I searched you like a policeman with a criminal. I didn't realize there were things I couldn't explain them- you had hidden knives all over your person. Sure you didn't intend to use them, but I pricked myself anyway. You had so many memories- good, bad, both- on you. I tried to look at them all, vainly. I realize I blame you for who I am today, what my present self is doing, what my present self has happening around me. But I shouldn't blame you, should I? I should thank you. I don't know what was hidden in that night hearing screams and sirens to make me who I...

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Knight Indeed

Johnny cursed and slid off his saddle, Arrow neighing nervously. You couldn't trust these saddlebags to hold up apparently! And then Garrick would come to inspect the young knights and order them to collect taxes, and where would he be then, without anywhere to put the coins? "In a pig sty  collecting a bucket of dung," he answered himself, hoping the townspeople wouldn't give him too much attention.
Lesson three from Garrick: Always look the part- that's how you earn respect.
Bet I look smart now in the back of the row with a wooden dagger. Johnny grimaced at the memory of Garrick leaning over him (like he needed the extra height advantage. Honestly, that man had everything) with a disapproving frown. Well, Johnny likes disapproving rather than 'so-close-to-booting-him-out-you-could-hear-the-veins-pulsing'. All for what? Johnny had skimped on the armor cleaning for Garrick's brother's joust the next morning. Johnny sighed and shook his head- Garrick's brother, Sir Terral, could barely fit into his...

Piano Man

There is an old wooden piano that sits in my foyer. There's not really anything special about it. It's just always sat there, a big wooden blockade that makes people have to squeeze around the corner into the next room because no one wants to move it even slightly. Why? I'm not sure. In fact, I've never seen anyone play it before, except for my great grandfather. He had bristly gray hair that stuck up and a nice voice, though he never really sang. Instead he played.
I remember staring at the Piano once I had gotten the news he had passed. Mommy had looked at me very scared, because she knew how much I loved him, to hear him play, to whisper to my brothers and sisters how stickyuppy his hair was and dare each other to poke it when he wasn't looking. I don't remember what I had thought first, but I do remember what I had said. "Who...

Lady Twyla

Lady Twyla regarded the King coldly, her silver hair making her seem so old when her features were that of a 17 year old. Her midnight blue gown she had worn there was allowed to be kept, despite the King's vigils' wishes. Her pale gray eyes looked at him like a once-wounded animal who had no more room for hesitation. The King knew that if she was not restrained she would challenge him right now. Instead, she was. The tight cord he had ordered for her was already cutting into her wrists, making them raw and painful to wriggle, not that there was any room to do so. The King adjusted his sapphire encrusted crown and smiled hollowly at her.
"A pleasure, Lady Twyla. You made the right choice, surrendering yourself and leaving your kingdom protected by your nephew," he mused, resting himself on the golden throne he'd forced his servants to carry wit them for this moment.
Twyla's mouth...

Dyed

Ahla stared at the dyed beads in the make-shift tent of the newcomer. They were purple and blue, red and yellow, green and white, orange and indigo. She knew what they stood for- she had studied them, as all the other girls in the village had. Like they had been instructed to do. Red and Yellow were for dancers, they would dance it as they moved gracefully or excitedly up and down and round and round. Green and white were for the warriors- the just, the merciful, the honorable. Ahla had made so many of them more than others. The orange and the indigo were for the healers and elders. But what Ahla didn't understand was why the new dyer, who ever that might be, had made blue and purple? Surely they had heard the stories about what those two colors together represented.
    Storm. Yet to come, is happening, or has already happened, but there is storm none the less....

Damage

A - I'm sorry
... Was she?
A - So sorry Jack
... I found it hard to believe since she was laughing along.
A - Please answer me. Tell me what to say. Tell me what I did.
J - You know exactly what you did.
A - I'm sorry.
J -You could've told me. You could've told me you didn't want to be friends anymore and we could've just parted ways cordially.
A - I do want to be friends, just with more people! Come on, it was a once in a lifetime chance!
J - Well congratulations Ally, you made new friends. I hope they're better than your old one.
A - I don't know how many times I can say it but I'll try again- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
...Was she, though? Was she really sorry or were her new popular friends laughing and watching me get angry? Were they looking at our texts right...

Piano Man

There is an old wooden piano that sits in my foyer. There's not really anything special about it. It's just always sat there, a big wooden blockade that makes people have to squeeze around the corner into the next room because no one wants to move it even slightly. Why? I'm not sure. In fact, I've never seen anyone play it before, except for my great grandfather. He had bristly gray hair that stuck up and a nice voice, though he never really sang. Instead he played.
I remember staring at the Piano once I had gotten the news he had passed. Mommy had looked at me very scared, because she knew how much I loved him, to hear him play, to whisper to my brothers and sisters how stickyuppy his hair was and dare eachother to poke it when he wasn't looking. I don't remember what I had thought first, but I do remember what I had said. "Who will...

Piano Man

There is an old wooden piano that sits in my foyer. There's not really anything special about it. It's just always sat there, a bi wooden blockade that makes people have to squeeze around the corner into the next room because no one wants to move it even slightly. Why? I'm not sure. In fact, I've never seen anyone play it before, except for my great grandfather. He had bristly gray hair that stuck up and a nice voice, though he never really sang. Instead he played.
I remember staring at the Piano once I had gotten the news he had passed. Mommy had looked at me very scared, because she knew how much I loved him, to hear him play, to whisper to my brothers and sisters how stickyuppy his hair was and dare eachother to poke it when he wasn't looking. I don't remember what I had thought first, but I do remember what I had said. "Who will...

Lady Twyla

Lady Twyla regarded the King coldly, her silver hair making her seem so old when her features were that of a 17 year old. Her midnight blue gown she had worn there was allowed to be kept, despite the King's vigils' wishes. Her pale gray eyes looked at him like a once-wounded animal who had no more room for hesitation. The King knew that if she was not restrained she would challenge him right now. Instead, she was. The tight cord he had ordered for her was already cutting into her wrists, making them raw and painful to wriggle, not that there was any room to do so. The King adjusted his sapphire encrusted crown and smiled hollowly at her.
"A pleasure, Lady Twyla. You made the right choice, surrendering yourself and leaving your kingdom protected by your nephew," he mused, resting himself on the golden throne he'd forced his servants to carry wit them for this moment.
Twyla's mouth...

Timeless Counsel

No Fun

"You're no fun."
Oh. How many times have you heard this? How many times have you been called 'no fun'?
Tell me, 'fun person'. Is it fun to have to live the rest of your life having people make sure you're clean? Is it fun to go to a big party with a bunch of people that neither know nor care about me and my well-being? Is it fun to be spending half my paycheck for the rest of my life on a packet of cigars?
Is it fun to have to lie to your parents and friends about where you go or what you do all the time? Is it fun to break your leg during cliff-diving? Is it fun to be ambushed in the middle of the night because you just can't stop making fun of someone like a gang buster?
Well then, I guess I'm no fun.
 

Chapter Three: You Will Not Like Stephanie Terslo When She is Angry at You- But Other People...

I followed Kronski to his the office, which was like a place where wounded animals go to curl up and die. The elderly women who work there are always nice and are sure to offer me a peppermint as I pass, and it sucks to see their working conditions. There is literally mold growing on the inside of cabinets and a coffee machine that works one half of the time and spits on the user the rest of the time.
Kronski's office was a bit small, a single pouch leather chair sitting behind his desk while pictures of family who all looked very grim hung on the walls. A fan was constantly blowing air and there was a bare bookshelf in front of the window because Kronski was so paranoid. Kronski sat down and then pulled out his phone and began dialing. My heart sank- already? "Paperboy and a month's worth of grounding," I spat out bitterly. Kronski silenced me...

My Day Sucks: What Else is New?

I tried to convince my Dad otherwise all through the night until he finally told me to go to my room. Was I excited? Wasn't I simply overjoyed at being a part of a team and pulling off some crappy newspaper every week for elderly people? Ahh... no, if I'm frankly honest. I didn't want to join the stupid paper and I did NOT want Logan to look too closely at the paper and I didn't want to have to work with people who's still trying to dig up what's under this town after twenty years. Not cool.
I tried to ignore the feeling of dread in my chest when I thought about it and ate up my burnt toast without complaint. "Don't miss the bus, Billy," Mom says distractedly as she likes some things on Facebook.
"Don't over exert yourself, Mom," I muttered, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and smoothing down some untidy brown hair that stuck up...

Chapter One: Well, My Name Is Billy and I Am Regretting Some Life Choices Right Now

So Ears, huh? Nice to have, and I guess my mother wanted a second pair because she had a grip like iron, tugging me to my room. "Charles!" she shrieked shrilly, calling for my father.
My father was a tall, big man with a fists that he loved to hammer on the coffee table when he was rowdy. Quite contrasting to my mother, who had slender fingers that could pick locks. I'd inherited hers, which was dead useful, cause I was all about picking locks. "Charles, your son has been to the Hartheer's shed!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.
"Billy!" he rumbled.
Yeah, I know, but it's Billy, and I was kinda proud of my name. Reminded me of Billy the Kid. My father lumbered into view as I entered my room, which was full of vases that my great aunt insisted on giving me. My father sat on my red bed wearing a classic Charles flannel shirt. "Billy!"...

An Angel I Had the Priviledge To Meet While She Was Here

She was an angel with no wings. She was the one who fought for life.
Life was hard for her, no doubt, so hard that thinking of it makes me shake.
What happened to her wasn't fair.
But I suppose if it had to happen to someone then it might as well be someone strong enough.
Like her.
She was so strong.
And so is her memory.
Truly, she was an angel with no wings.

She was a fire that needed no kindling.
She would burn and burn with no one else's help, thank you very much.
She burned so bright.
In the backs of our minds we all knew it was growing dim.
But this beautiful fire, it burns.
She still burns.
I know this.
Because even though there is no kindling.
Doesn't mean there is not a fire still going.
Truly, she was a fire that needed no kindling.

She is an angel with no wings.
Except now...

Untitled

He had dark eyes
Bald spots were on the rise
A coat and a tie
A smile stunning to the eye

She had straw hair
And light blue eyes with skin so fair
A pair of blue shorts
And a humor that could lap the courts

People couldn't justify it
But the candle had already been lit
For them it seemed a perfect fit
Who cared who was ok with it

It didn't seem like it would work
Each of them had so different perks
But like a match made above
They couldn't help but be
Hopelessly
Unlimitedly
Irrevocably
In love
 

Lunatic

Well hello.
Have you-
nah, that's stupid
Maybe-
Shut up, they; take it wrong
Fine
What? You cant just give up on me like that
Yeah I can. If your so smart do it yourself
What should I say?
Mmph
I'm sorry ok?
Really?
I'm sorry, really really really sorry but I just need your help.
Fine. Here's what you do
I smile. "Hey."

 

Damage

A - I'm sorry
... Was she?
A - So sorry Jack
... I found it hard to believe since she was laughing along.
A - Please answer me. Tell me what to say. Tell me what I did.
J - You know exactly what you did.
A - I'm sorry.
J -You could've told me. You could've told me you didn't want to be friends anymore and we could've just parted ways cordially.
A - I do want to be friends, just with more people! Come on, it was a once in a lifetime chance!
J - Well congratulations Ally, you made new friends. I hope they're better than your old one.
A - I don't know how many times I can say it but I'll try again- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
...Was she, though? Was she really sorry or were her new popular friends laughing and watching me get angry? Were they looking at our texts right...

Damage

A - I'm sorry
... Was she?
A - So sorry Jack
... I found it hard to believe since she was laughing along.
A - Please answer me. Tell me what to say. Tell me what I did.
J - You know exactly what you did.
A - I'm sorry.
J -You could've told me. You could've told me you didn't want to be friends anymore and we could've just parted ways cordially.
A - I do want to be friends, just with more people! Come on, it was a once in a lifetime chance!
J - Well congratulations Ally, you made new friends. I hope they're better than your old one.
A - I don't know how many times I can say it but I'll try again- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
...Was she, though? Was she really sorry or were her new popular friends laughing and watching me get angry? Were they looking at our texts right...

Waiting

Perhaps the best part of a crush is waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Not the moment when you think 'What will happen now?' or the moment when you see tears film your eyes and a feeling of deep disappointment and sadness wells up inside of your stomach like an untieable knot. I have had crushes before, of course. None of them has turned out well. So from experience, yes, waiting is probably the best part of a crush. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Until you don't have to anymore.

Zoom Out

In A Hospital

The room smelled like stale air that too many people had breathed in. Who knew how many people had been sitting in the same position they were now? In the same big red chair next to hospital bed where someone was hooked up to IVs and vital checkers. Thousands, maybe millions of people had sat in the same red chair next to someone that was in danger. A big fluorescent light in the middle of the ceiling, the hearts on the door's number slate to show that someone cared for is inside even though the hearts were there for many different people at many different times. The food brought up in trays that forget to add the ranch for the salad. This room was full of fear and hopes that hundred, or thousands, or millions had felt while they sat here waiting for God to show his plan for the person. There was much fear here- fear of the machines that...

I Found A Girl

I found a girl
With three pipe cleaners in her hair
A necklace made of corks she likes to wear
And a smile that could light up the shade
Where she drinks her pink lemonade

Oh, I found a girl
She said hello there
Are you here to find the magician's hidden lair?
Or cleanse the cave of pirate gold hidden there?
Rescue a princess tall and fair?

And I said
With a pair of goggles wrapped around my head
That I was going diving to the seabed
But it could wait because those pirates couldn't find the hidden lair
Not with us there!

It was afternoon
The sun had departed way to soon
I remember we had fought the great typhoon
And got the wand from the wizard on our way
To go get the princess and save the day

From then on
We played together all we wanted to
We made up to kindergarten and through
The rest of...

I Found A Girl

I found a girl
With three pipe cleaners in her hair
A necklace made of corks she likes to wear
And a smile that could light up the shade
Where she drinks her pink lemonade

Oh, I found a girl
She said hello there
Are you here to find the magician's hidden lair?
Or cleanse the cave of pirate gold hidden there?
Rescue a princess tall and fair?

And I said
With a pair of goggles wrapped around my head
That I was going diving to the seabed
But it could wait because those pirates couldn't find the hidden lair
Not with us there!

It was afternoon
The sun had departed way to soon
I remember we had fought the great typhoon
And got the wand from the wizard on our way
To go get the princess and save the day

From then on
We played together all we wanted to
We made up to kindergarten and through
The rest of...

I Found A Girl

I found a girl
With three pipe cleaners in her hair
A necklace made of corks she likes to wear
And a smile that could light up the shade
Where she drinks her pink lemonade

Oh, I found a girl
She said hello there
Are you here to find the magician's hidden lair?
Or cleanse the caves of pirate gold hidden there?
Rescue a princess tall and fair?

And I said
With a pair of goggles wrapped around my head
That I was going diving to the seabed
But it could wait because those pirates couldn't find the hidden lair
Not with us there!

It was afternoon
The sun had departed way to soon
I remember we had fought the great typhoon
And got the wand from the wizard on our way
To go get the princess and save the day

From then on
We played together all we wanted to
We made up to kindergarten and through
The rest of...

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: An Unwanted Quest

Johnny stared at the yellow bead. Of all the rotten luck- "Now let's see the quest's details!" Freida continued, her faced troubled. Both of the cards glowed and Johnny's face was shown, a few facts about him next to it. Freida looked the facts over and whistled. "Hmm, farm boy, ehh? And quite a big family. No wonder you wanted to get out of the house. It's a shame that the yellow- erm," she cleared her throat. "Well, here are the details on this card-"
Johnny had officially had enough. He rose and narrowed his eyes at her, pulling up his empty sack too. "Look, thanks and all, and I won't take the money, but I know you did this on purpose."
"On purpose?" Freida cocked an eyebrow archly and seemed baffled and offended. "The Fates Speak for themselves!"
Johnny grunted and started to leave when Freida caught his hand in hers. "It's to late! You have to go now!" ...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Dragon and an Unloyal Donkey

Johnny stared up at the tall tower, the cobblestones looking so perfectly placed that he couldn't help bite his lip at the thought of having to climb up something that was so well made that there would barely be any foot or handholds. His leather jerkin wasn't really helping the smell of cow manure that clung to his tunic and pants, but maybe the princess wouldn't mind once he told her about the dragon he had had to face to get to where he was standing. Well, he says 'face', but really he had just snuck past the dragon while it was asleep and left his family's donkey- err, steed, to guard. Johnny rubbed his hands together, his growing sun damaged brown-blonde hair hanging around his face. "Princess, here I come."
The climb was difficult- more than once Johnny nearly fell off and broke his butt on landing. But he made sure to be careful- which certainly did not come...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Dragon and an Unloyal Donkey

Johnny stared up at the tall tower, the cobblestones looking so perfectly placed that he couldn't help bite his lip at the thought of having to climb up something that was so well made that there would barely be any foot or handholds. His leather jerkin wasn't really helping the smell of cow manure that clung to his tunic and pants, but maybe the princess wouldn't mind once he told her about the dragon he had had to face to get to where he was standing. Well, he says 'face', but really he had just snuck past the dragon while it was asleep and left his family's donkey- err, steed, to guard. Johnny rubbed his hands together, his growing sun damaged brown-blonde hair hanging around his face. "Princess, here I come."
The climb was difficult- more than once Johnny nearly fell off and broke his butt on landing. But he made sure to be careful- which certainly did not come...

What Kept You?

I'm standing at the train station with a bundle of clothes I shoved into my backpack hanging on my shoulder. I'm wearing the scarf I got for Christmas, pink and furry with little rings somehow sewn in. My hair is hanging by me stomach it's so long now- I've forgotten the last time I've cut it. It's chilly, and I pull up my raincoat, the only coat I have. I'm waiting here for you, at the train station. The one on St. Paul road.
Remember? The one you said you would meet me at. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. I fiddle with the zipper on my backpack, but not enough to let anything fall out. I have the money for the ticket in the pocket of my jeans. The trains just keep going. All kinds of people are getting on in single lines, but I've scoured them until my eyes burn and there's no sign of...

Victims.

Dear Victims,

    What business have I writing this to you, for I was not among you. But the thing is, I could've easily been. At the wrong place at the wrong time. With the wrong crowd. I could've just as easily have taken a left turn into the danger that you faced. And the sad part is, this happens everyday. Around the world. To people just like you, and just like me. And I hate it. Because the people who do this once were you and I- people being people. But somewhere along the way they were corrupted and filled with cowardice and evilness. They began to be afraid of themselves so much that they lost themselves.
Still, there is no excuse. I send my deepest regrets and my most heartfelt love to you in hopes you are able to get through this, because the more mountains you climb, the bigger and more astonishing the glade will be at the...

Music

Music is the magic that makes those long car drives bearable.
Music is the magic that holds a room of people in awe.
Music is the magic that can be made only for one person.
Music is the magic that shatters our hearts and makes them whole again.
Music is the magic that lets us feel things we thought impossible.
Music is the magic that loosen us up.
Music is the magic that keeps us living from fear.
Music is the magic that spreads from one heart to another.
Music is the magic that allows us to think of something bigger than ourselves.
Music is the magic that gives us a mood.
Music is the magic that shows parts of us, both pretty and ugly.
Music is the love spread through one person to another, and the love that comes from that.
Music breaks walls.
Music builds walls.
Music is music.
And music is one of the greatest gifts of...

Strangeness

A Tree falls on me
I meet some angry chipmunks
Time to get a car.

What Kept You?

I'm standing at the train station with a bundle of clothes I shoved into my backpack hanging on my shoulder. I'm wearing the scarf I got for Christmas, pink and furry with little rings somehow sewn in. My hair is hanging by me stomach it's so long now- I've forgotten the last time I've cut it. It's chilly, and I pull up my raincoat, the only coat I have. I'm waiting here for you, at the train station. The one on St. Paul road.
Remember? The one you said you would meet me at. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. I fiddle with the zipper on my backpack, but not enough to let anything fall out. I have the money for the ticket in the pocket of my jeans. The trains just keep going. All kinds of people are getting on in single lines, but I've scoured them until my eyes burn and there's no sign of...

Chalk

Let me know, please, let me know.
Let me hear you, let me hear you talk.
This is not for show.
I just want to erase this line in chalk.

Let me see you, please, let me see you.
Let me be there.
Erase the line that you drew.
And let your burden be shared.

Let me let you know,
That I am here.
That I will stay here, I won't go.
That you won't change my mind that is set in gear.

Let yourself hear me, please,
Let yourself believe
That this chalk line is bringing us to our knees.
You are the only person you've managed to deceive.

Let yourself see
I will accept you.
Whoever you choose to be
Or which direction you think you flew.

Stop hiding from me, erase the chalk.
I won't push you away.
Together with this burden, we will not balk.
Stop trying to keep me at bay.

Let me in, please,...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Dragon and an Unloyal Donkey

Johnny stared up at the tall tower, the cobblestones looking so perfectly placed that he couldn't help bite his lip at the thought of having to climb up something that was so well made that there would barely be any foot or handholds. His leather jerkin wasn't really helping the smell of cow manure that clung to his tunic and pants, but maybe the princess wouldn't mind once he told her about the dragon he had had to face to get to where he was standing. Well, he says 'face', but really he had just snuck past the dragon while it was asleep and left his family's donkey- err, steed, to guard. Johnny rubbed his hands together, his growing sun damaged brown-blonde hair hanging around his face. "Princess, here I come."
The climb was difficult- more than once Johnny nearly fell off and broke his butt on landing. But he made sure to be careful- which certainly did not come...

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: Magic Toes

Johnny scrambled out of the hay stack, and it was sticking to him alright. Garrick sighed and shook his head at him, pointing to Arrow. "Keep your horse under control, Penswin. Now, join the others, you have Cruns Street."
Johnny spit out a wad of hay and looked down at his clothes. It looked like a scarecrow had mugged him in the alley. Johnny frowned and turned to the farmer, smiling meekly. "I am so sorry sir."
The farmer grunted turned to the hay stack, trying to return it to it's former glory. Johnny dipped his head and then ran back to Arrow. "Arrow!" he scolded his new gray horse. Ever since Druzine, the Family Donkey, had run away back home Johnny hadn't trusted him since. Luckily, the knight army was so kind to provide their squires with horses in training. Key words, 'Horse in training'. Johnny sighed and glared at his horse. "Arrow!" he scolded. "Bad horse."
Arrow neighed...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Dragon and an Unloyal Donkey

Johnny stared up at the tall tower, the cobblestones looking so perfectly placed that he couldn't help bite his lip at the thought of having to climb up something that was so well made that there would barely be any foot or handholds. His leather jerkin wasn't really helping the smell of cow manure that clung to his tunic and pants, but maybe the princess wouldn't mind once he told her about the dragon he had had to face to get to where he was standing. Well, he says 'face', but really he had just snuck past the dragon while it was asleep and left his family's donkey- err, steed, to guard. Johnny rubbed his hands together, his growing sun damaged brown-blonde hair hanging around his face. "Princess, here I come."
The climb was difficult- more than once Johnny nearly fell off and broke his butt on landing. But he made sure to be careful- which certainly did not come...

The Tales of Johnny Penswin: A Knight Indeed

Johnny cursed and slid off his saddle, Arrow neighing nervously. You couldn't trust these saddlebags to hold up apparently! And then Garrick would come to inspect the young knights and order them to collect taxes, and where would he be then, without anywhere to put the coins? "In a pig sty  collecting a bucket of dung," he answered himself, hoping the townspeople wouldn't give him to much attention.
Lesson three from Garrick: Always look the part- that's how you earn respect.
Bet I look smart now in the back of the row with a wooden dagger. Johnny grimaced at the memory of Garrick leaning over him (like he needed the extra height advantage. Honestly, that man had everything) with a disapproving frown. Well, Johnny likes disapproving rather than 'so-close-to-booting-him-out-you-could-hear-the-veins-pulsing'. All for what? Johnny had skimped on the armor cleaning for Garrick's brother's joust the next morning. Johnny sighed and shook his head- Garrick's brother, Sir Terral, could barely fit into his...

How Foolish Were We

How foolish were we? To believe even for one fleeting moment that we could be together, that we could work.
To foolish- so foolish we threw regard of thought to the wind. It appears we lost our minds when we were together, because it is clear now we have been merely deceiving ourselves, choosing to over look the fact.
How foolish were we? To think we were safe from what the rest of the world had to face, that somehow we were protected from reality, like fanatical beings or shielded by angels.
How foolish were we? To ignore the signs that change was coming, like whatever was coming for the others would somehow ignore us. How foolish were we to hope that this would work?
How foolish was I? To let myself do this, to let my instincts be ignored and by doing so convince you to ignore yours too. Not only was I foolish, I was selfishly so, because...

The Someone

She watched him as she left
He wanted to go with her
But she would not allow it
And so he stayed behind.

She died later that week
He stayed hopeful throughout
When the news had reached his ears
It seemed to age him years.

He cried and sobbed and angered
At the bearer of news
He ran to her grave
And said with care

Why sister
Did you leave
Did you know this would happen?
Do you miss me?

The sister did miss him.
Missed him so much
Yet there was no way
They would stay in touch

For she was gone
Unto a world
Made of her own
A world entirely new

The boy talked to the girl even though
She had no way to answer
He blamed her
He missed her

He yelled at her
He sobbed to her
He stayed with her
He loved her

But the sister was sad
So sad
Because the little boy...

Your Voice: Climate Change

We Finish It

A sunset dips behind the mountains, casting a warm glow on the small house that was just closing the dog's houses up for the night and setting the TV to the nightly news, a soft breeze rippling the curtains. This- this is how it should be. There shouldn't be any worries of how many people might be in risk of getting harmful UAV rays from the weakening atmosphere, or creatures having to go hungry or die to make room for more houses and buildings which would only make the climate change worse than it already is. People who aren't doing anything either don't know, don't care, or don't know what to do to help. First let us address what would happen. Trees would shift and migrate to levels of cooler areas, rising sea levels would swallow islands before we knew it. Entire grids of homeless and refugees would be crashing all over. Ice caps with fall, icebergs will melt... and how...

Apart

I feel sometimes
No matter where I start
That no matter what I do
I find myself falling
Falling
Falling apart

A memory surfaces
A beating
A Person
Rinsing to repeat
For a later date
That will once again leave me
Falling
Falling
Falling apart

The pieces tightly formed
Sticking and clicking together
So why is it that
Eventually
They slide out of eachother
And spiral into the void forever

And as I search the faces
Of people here and there
I wonder if this happens
To everyone everywhere
Or if it is just me
The one
With too much weight to bear



 

Family

Family- never take it for granted. Not that weird cousin that keeps calling you, or that odd uncle that only wear's his hat to the car or that aunt that insists on coming over just to hug you.

Never take Family for granted

Not your funny brother

Not your creative sister

Not your ingenious mother

Not your lovable father

Not your eccentric grandparents

Not your inspirational great grandmother

Never take them for granted
They are worth so much.
 

Under the Yellow Umbrella

I walked outside into the chilly fall afternoon and sat down, careful not to look in front of me. People walked around chatting about weather and shopping and school supplies, so oblivious to major reunion that was happening right beneath their noses, and of course a yellow umbrella above me that matched the one in my hand. The steely cold chair cut into my back like a knife- at least, I imagined it was the chair. I prefer to blame furniture instead the guilt that was twisting and gnawing at my stomach. I gingerly set down my yellow umbrella on the side of my chair and looked at the plate in front of me full of chicken and fries. Hannah must've ordered- it was the last meal I had eaten before I left to... I sighed and gave up the uphill battle to face the people I had left behind. James, my lover, was directly in front of me. I...

Into the Woods

Magnificent, Aren't They?

I walked into the wooden giants' lair
Saw the tall sticks of the Earth that stood there
Hands reaching towards the never-ending sky,
Twisting in the wind to get better views of the light.

Then they were still,
Branches like the feathers in a quill
Writing messages in tops high
Hoping to catch another's eye

Their arms were held out to grab ahold
Of creatures both new and old
Letting refuge be taken when it should
And killing the one who stayed longer than life decided they would.

These long stalks of life
Can be craved and marked with a knife.
But yet withstand a storm so strong
It can kill all men lined a mile long.

They are alive yet move on own not
Only when dead does their skin rot.
Gentle giants, may keep harm away
And death at bay

Yet appreciated they are often not
Protection is when they are sought.
Cut down, sawed, hacked at
Worth...

Evelyn

Looking back, I still had no idea why you had done it- why you had left. I was small, very small, but I can still remember. I remember the storm, the most terrible storm I have ever seen even now even though I was barely a year old when I saw it. Purple and black clouds swept over the city, opening up and letting their tears pound the cement. The sky was angry, Jasmine, and even then I knew it was angry at one of us. Because everyone else had already closed up, no lights on except for one brick cube on the corner with a flowerbed and a rich emerald sign. We were the only ones that dared to run around in the storm, to run around late where thieves might be hiding. The rain hit me again and again so it felt like I was half-submerged in a lake full of piranhas. Thunder resonated in the cracks of...

Open Prompt

Hannah

"Jasmine?" I called, running up the stairs. They creaked under my weight, the brown boards of wood loosened from all the times Jasmine and I had ran up them. The house was bright, full of light from all of the burning candles Jasmine loved so much. I huffed and entered our old living room. Old green curtains with patterns to match an even older couch were pulled back so that the sun could come in. Books lined our big shelf spaced like dominos to knock over whenever we felt like. A brown and white globe sat in the corner covered in dust, and a big lamp with a turtle green shade was right next to it. "Jasmine?" I called again, knowing the only other place I could look was the closet. 
Why wouldn't she answer? It had been going on a long while for hide and seek and I hadn't seen her this morning at all. Maybe I had gotten...

Mix-Matched Socks

"Come on Reagan," they called to me, some jeeringly and some merely confused, looking at me like I was an insect. I watched their gazes go right past me, Reagan, to what they wanted to see. They wanted to see a girl with a plaid skirt that was to be worn everyday, a girl who would sit next to them and pick on the 'weaker' people. They wanted to see a girl just like them- a girl without mix-match socks. I walked closer to them, searching their eyes and saw only me- no girl behind me that acted just like them with a plaid skirt and matching socks. Instead, there was just me. 
Just Reagan. And I didn't want to be the girl they saw if I had to match what they wore or did, and think like they thought. And if that meant being 'just Reagan', that was fine with me. So I stood taller and drew in a...

Jasmine

I stared hazily out the window splattered with rain. The streets were empty- no cars chugged along the gray cemented road, and none of the lights in the shops and cafes had yet been turned on. The only light came from the gray sky and that wasn't much. So how on earth was I able to spot you, a little speck walking feverishly down the street with an umbrella? I after all had just woken up, and the weather was certainly not working in either of our favor. Perhaps it was your yellow umbrella, though when I spotted you it looked just as gray as everything else. Maybe it was your long brown hair behind you, but that would just blend in as well.
I wish I hadn't seen you- I wish I had spent that morning looking around in the house for you, checking every floor and every corner it contained. I wish that even if it was for another...

Lyrics Unsung

The Fall - Imagine Dragons

There are many things I am not sure of, that I do not completely agree with. It seems fake to me, like I am seeing something else from everyone else. I don't know what they are seeing, but it must be something different then me, because I disagree with many things- trends, categories... and I'm tired of it. Nothing seems real. It seems to be made of plastic or metal, something fake that everyone just believes. I had almost convinced myself that I should just conform, fit in. Try to see what they saw. But then I met you- and you were like me. You liked old jazz where others preferred pop. You liked studying and tried at everything, like I wanted to. You weren't afraid to be different.
So I am ready now. I am ready for all superstitions and lies and labels to fall away, and I'm not afraid to say so anymore. I have made up my...

Dyed

Ahla stared at the dyed beads in the make-shift tent of the newcomer. They were purple and blue, red and yellow, green and white, orange and indigo. She knew what they stood for- she had studied them, as all the other girls in the village had. Like they had been instructed to do. Red and Yellow were for dancers, they would dance it as they moved gracefully or excitedly up and down and round and round. Green and white were for the warriors- the just, the merciful, the honorable. Ahla had made so many of them more than others. The orange and the indigo were for the healers and elders. But what Ahla didn't understand was why the new dyer, who ever that might be, had made blue and purple? Surely they had heard the stories about what those two colors together represented.
    Storm. Yet to come, is happening, or has already happened, but there is storm none the less....

Dyed

Ahla stared at the dyed beads in the make-shift tent of the newcomer. They were purple and blue, red and yellow, green and white, orange and indigo. She knew what they stood for- she had studied them, as all the other girls in the village had. Like they had been instructed to do. Red and Yellow were for dancers, they would dance it as they moved gracefully or excitedly up and down and round and round. Green and white were for the warriors- the just, the merciful, the honorable. Ahla had made so many of them more than others. The orange and the indigo were for the healers and elders. But what Ahla didn't understand was why the new dyer, who ever that might be, had made blue and purple? Surely they had heard the stories about what those two colors together represented.
    Storm. Yet to come, is happening, or has already happened, but there is storm none the less....

Lyrics Unsung

The Fall - Imagine Dragons

There are many things I am not sure of, that I do not completely agree with. It seems fake to me, like I am seeing something else from everyone else. I don't know what they are seeing, but it must be something different then me, because I disagree with many things- trends, categories... and I'm tired of it. Nothing seems real. It seems to be made of plastic or metal, something fake that everyone just believes. I had almost convinced myself that I should just conform, fit in. Try to see what they saw. But then I met you- and you were like me. You liked old jazz where others preferred pop. You liked studying and tried at everything, like I wanted to. You weren't afraid to be different.
So I am ready now. I am ready for all superstitions and lies and labels to fall away, and I'm not afraid to say so anymore. I have made up my...

Turned to Stone

The Unknown Factor

    No one knew who I was. I stared at the people I had thought I had known my whole life, crowded into a small living room, though no one was sitting down, no one was watching the TV which played in the background. They looked at me- oh the pairs of eyes all different color- green, blue, brown, hazel, gray... and yet in none of them was there a flash of fleeting recognition or memory of me having ever had existed. Slowly with a hammering heart I backed away a step as some glares turned hostile- those of my sisters and brothers. I knew the questions they would ask next. ​Why was I here? Didn't I have a family? ​And I knew I couldn't answer them, because those were the questions I had come to ask myself.