Odyssey

United States

violinist/reader/writer/theater kid/singer/ LOTR fan/Hufflepuff/ dreamer/sister/child at heart

“There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.” -Samwise Gamgee
"Every word I write is a testimony to my soul"- Me

Message from Writer

Trying to craft meaningful stories while juggling school, family, and life in general.
Someone who likes to write and loves to live.
My username is Odyssey because we are all on our own journey. :)
“I’m ready as I’ll ever be.” - Varian, Tangled the Series
-Seriously, listen to th music from Tangled the Series. It is AMAZING! (Well, most of it). :)

"We are who we become. "- Me

I hope everyone has an amazing, fantastic, stupendous day. :)
(I probably overuse smileys but oh well) :)

I'll also probably forget to respond to comments- it's not cause I don't appreciate them ( I do- a lot), I'm just really absentminded.

Published Work

From Dreamer to Writer: An Odyssey (100th piece)

       I have always been a dreamer- both at night and during the day. If you ask me what my favorite memory of my life is, I couldn't pinpoint a certain day of place, but I can remember what I was doing. My sister, some close friends, and I were playing something we called an "imagination" game- in which we basically created our own word and became characters in that world. We would play for hours, just living in a make-believe world.
    That was when I was happiest and felt most alive- when I was imagining, when I was dreaming of what could be.
So I guess it makes sense that I love writing so much.
   My first recollection of writing for pleasure was when I was being baby-sat by a family friend who happened to be an English teacher around the age of six or seven. She got out some crayons and markers and...

Life’s Journey

Don’t tell me how far I’ve come-
I know.
It was I who stumbled on the path
and walked life’s road.

From Dreamer to Writer: An Odyssey (100th piece)

       I have always been a dreamer- both at night and during the day. If you ask me what my favorite memory of my life is, I couldn't pinpoint a certain day of place, but I can remember what I was doing. My sister, some close friends, and I were playing something we called an "imagination" game- in which we basically created our own word and became characters in that world. We would play for hours, just living in a make-believe world.
    That was when I was happiest and felt most alive- when I was imagining, when I was dreaming of what could be.
So I guess it makes sense that I love writing so much.
   My first recollection of writing for pleasure was when I was being baby-sat by a family friend who happened to be an English teacher around the age of six or seven. She got out some crayons and markers and...

Illusion

What if the life we experience is an illusion?
and the world around us grey?
what if the sun has turned to shadows?
night overtaking day?

 

January Grab Bag

The Garden on My Walls

       My bedroom walls used to be a bright sky blue- as cheery as a cloudless morning sky, but now they have faded to grey-blue, more reminiscent of a rainy day than a summer's sky. Perhaps, though, the gray is not from the grip of time, clawing at the paint, and dulling its color. Perhaps, it is the trace of the old pencil sketches and drawings that used to etch a garden on my wall.

Many years ago, maybe six or seven if I'm thinking about it, a young girl took a pencil and began to draw. She did not consider herself an artist, but she loved to see how lines could be transformed into beings, how inanimate lead could become people. She shared a bunk bed with her sister, and as she drew on the wall beside her bed, her sister did as well, though they could not see what the other was doing. 
    The...

Random Monologue (Girl on Phone)

Act 1, Scene 1
Hi, it’s Kate. No, I’m okay- I just- I need someone to talk to.
Sure, I’ll call you back.
(Hangs up, sitting dejectedly, until phone rings again)
Jenny? Oh, sorry  Maddie.  I thought you were someone else.


I’m fine, why does everyone keep asking if I’m fine? (Voice raises, quivers)


Of course I’m overwhelmed, what ya think!? It’s not as if we’re in a worldwide pandemic or anything.

No! Don’t go! Please. Sorry, it’s- I’m feeling so alone.
Covid, quarantine, everything. I never knew how much everyone meant to me until I couldn’t see them. And then I realized most everyone didn’t care about me.
You know how many texts I got over quarantine? Maybe five. Five. And that’s not mentioning that three of those were happy birthdays. I maybe talked to one person other than you and my parents.
I never knew- if the people I thought were my friends were- and now I guess...

Names for Nature

Yard of Memories

        We cut through the brambles during quarantine- donning big pink gardening gloves, and wielding garden shears rusty and old from disuse.
        Out we marched, my sister and I, to the backyard of our childhood. It had seemed so large then- large enough to play hide-and-seek for hours, and giggle while playing in the dirt, making mud pies on a bright summer morning. 
 It had been neat and well-kept, then. We had flowers planted from a garden party we had held, and the trees and bushes, did not block the view of the neighboring yards. 
   But now it was overgrown and wild- branches and vines crawling over the broken fence separating our yard from our neighbors. There was a hole in the fence from years past, when our neighbor’s dog had gotten loose and chased us up a tree.
    With our shears raised, we began clipping the hanging vines and later, raking...

Passion

What is passion? 
To me, it is the smile in my eyes and the laughter in the air
when I am lost in the moment 
if something wonderful.
It is a feeling and a fever,
a burning flame and and sounding bell
Passion for things, for life, for people
passion for living 
passion for rising 

What is passion?
To me, it is the sense of belonging
knowing that yes, you do care about things,
and, yes, these things you care about-
they really do matter.
It is the sense of purpose and 
the feeling of being awakened
in a world more colorful than a world before
Passion is love and passion is caring
It is friends and it is family.
It is the moon and the rising sun.
 

Setting as Mood

On Stage

Diana waited with anticipation to walk onto the stage as the overture ended and the first act began. The blue velvet curtain rose, trembling, ever so slowly, and when it had fully risen, the stage was dark. Suddenly, the spotlight brightened center stage, the orchestra played their instruments louder and louder in a swell of emotion, and- amazingly fast- the cast came on stage, transforming the once barren area into a market square of a faraway country. The stage was a blur of color- for this opening scene must be spectacular to make the audience entranced. Vibrant costumes spun in every direction- the men wore blue and gold jackets with faux-leather belts, the women wore ankle-length dresses of every color of the rainbow, the children wore bright pinks and oranges and silvers, and everyone danced. The beautiful clear voice of a high soprano rang out, as she described the day that was awakening, and the joy of the city as...

I Have, Have You?

Have you ever lived life so fast you missed what it was?
Have you ever thought you had to speak or the words would lie
forgotten, unheard,
buried in your soul,
where they would rest
until they became so
old and withered,
forgotten by even your heart?

I have.

Have you ever lived life in the moment, sitting, listening, being?
Have you ever spent a night awake because the clock
was ticking, and the floor was creaking,
and raindrops were falling,
and your heart was beating,
and your mind was alive and free?

I have.

Have you ever heard a song so beautiful you cried 
because of the singers who sang it,
because of the one who wrote it,
because it was your soul expressed in words?

I have.

Have you ever loved someone so much you would 
be happy to see them and only them and no one else
because they were your second half 
and without them, life...

My Constellations

The constellations are brave heroes, tragic heroines
doomed to live on in the sky
as a warning to those still on earth 
they rise and fall with the day and night 
just as they did in life
through faults and triumphs
hopes and failures
life and death
this cycle of lesson and mourning
in the sky
 

The Girl That Danced in the Rain

The rain lightly dropped onto the roof, the soft pitter-patter of the droplets keeping me awake. I didn’t need to look at my clock to know it was well past midnight. The long shadows cast by the streetlights told me that. 
    It was a spring night, I think, this night of my youth that I recall, but there was still a small semblance of snow on the ground, for it was a cold spring.
That is why it was so surprising when I saw her. 
It was a late night, to begin with, and furthermore, a rainy, dark night. Add to that the chill of the wind and the cold of the air, and no one in their right mind would be out. 
    I heard a sound. Humming. Then singing. For a moment I thought I had finally fallen asleep, but no. I sleepily turned over in bed, closing my eyes. The singing was a girl- a soprano- and she...

Self-Love

Love, Of the Self and Of Others

1. I love my eyes. I think they shine with light and have a desire to live life right. I love my fingers, because they have the ability to write and play the violin and move, though not always with grace.

2. I love the way I try. I try to be better, even though I fail. 

3. I love that I am satisfied with being completely alone sometimes, but yet I love the presence of others other times. I love that I could spend a week alone in my bedroom and come out smiling and how I can spend a lifetime with my best friend and not want anything more.

4. I love that I change. I used to hate this- this fact of life. Change. I used to hate it with all of myself. But then I realized that life is change and change is life and change can produce wonderful things. 


5. I love my love. My...

The Girl That Danced in the Rain

The rain lightly dropped onto the roof, the soft potter-patter of the droplets keeping me awake. I didn’t need to look at my clock to know it was well past midnight. The long shadows cast by the streetlights told me that. 
    It was a spring night, I think, this night of my youth that I recall, but there was still a small semblance of snow on the ground, for it was a cold spring.
That is why it was so surprising when I saw her. 
It was late night, to begin with, and furthermore, a rainy, dark night. Add to that the chill of the wind and the cold of the air, and no one in their right mind would be out. 
    I heard a sound. Humming. Then singing. For a moment I thought I had finally fallen asleep, but no. I sleepily turned over in bed, closing my eyes. The singing was a girl- a soprano- and she had...

Beginning to End

When I began this year/i knew little of myself/i was a stranger in my body/ i was scared and little else/ when I began this year/ i was tired and afraid/ of the choices I had chosen/ the decisions I had made/ i lived from day to day/ not knowing what tomorrow brought/ and my life was not together/ no matter what my parents thought

then something drastic happened/ a little thing called quarantine/ it sent me to my house for good/  to keep  safe from Covid-19/ each day became a day to think/ to reflect upon my life/ i found time to live and time to write/ and time free from strife/ i discovered my real passions/ and what made me unique/ that i love to write and sing and dance/ and think and read and speak

i discovered that my perceptions/ were not quite true at all/ and that the beliefs I held/ were not infallible/ i learned...

The Last Day of 2020

The last day of 2020
leaves with somber clouds
pouring rain onto the rooftops

it is fitting 
for a year such as this
to end in such a way

2020
it was really something, wasn't it?
a new decade forever scarred
by the arrival of Corona

and yet, 
it was a year of learning
of growing
and of giving 

this year I learned
that my sister is truly my best friend
that I can be both sarcastic and sweet
that I don't need to be friends with everyone
and that you're never too old to run around
that life is worth living for the people in it 
that having passions makes life brighter
that food is really just food
that mirrors lie but your heart doesn't 
that growing up brings both pleasures and pains
that love is powerful and so is laughter

in 2021
I hope the year behind with sunshine and rainbows
even as traces of today's rain
linger...

Anyone Know How to Be?

Does anybody out there,
anyone at all,
have a clue how to be?
how to be put together,
how to be reliable
how to be confident
how to be assured?
how to be a friend 
how be a loved one
how to be a believer
how to be a dreamer?
how to function properly
how to act and how to be
does anyone, anybody
know how to be?

Everything that is and more

Everything that is and more 
everything life holds for me
everything I have in store
everything I want to be

everything I love to know
everyting I love to do
memories that come and go
the memories of me and you

Everything in life that’s good 
love and light and friends and fun
passions and games and wholesome food
everything that can be done

all of everything and more
thats what I want my life to be
 to swim on the land and shore
and to walk upon the sea

 

For when the Road is Long (Shoutout to 50+ followers)

For when the road gets long
feet drag on the trodden earth
and everything once deemed worthy
seems hallow under the aching of your feet

for when the road is long
your weary gaze misses me
though I walk along side you 
with every step

when the road is long
i know the warm earth calls to you
and all you want is to sit and rest
but your path is ahead,
winding and twisted, but ahead,

and the path is long, so long
remember that while I can not
fly you down the path of life
i can carry you when you fall
and dust you off when you stumble

i can make the road seem brighter
when it is midnight and there is no moon
and I can make miserable trek
And journey for the heart and soul

but in turn, you must trust
and believe
 

The Drabble

When Life Goes Right, Then

When I finally found a group of friends who accepted me, 
“Hi. How are you? Coming over on Saturday?” 
When I finally knew who I was,
Sister. Friend. Actress. Artist. Me. 
When I finally had a healthy body and mind.
No more self-hatred.
When I can balance school, life, and society.
No more obsessing over grades.
When I finally feel free.
When finally, really, truly, all is right with the world.

Then
Friday the 13th
school closings
Covid-19
virtual school
family stressed
challenges to face

But I know that I can get through it because I have been here before. 

Mid-December Grab Bag

Personal Utopia December Grab Bag

My personal utopia...huh. I’ve never thought about it before. What would my perfect world be? 
I have so many dreams, so many things I want to accomplish in my life, so many visions of what life could but never will be. 
My perfect world would not be so different from the one I already know. Okay, that’s a lie. It would be a lot different, but not completely, that’s all I’m saying. 
My utopia would be this world but better.
There would be no poverty or war or crime or hunger. I don’t think I would want no trials or struggles or problems, just not life threatening ones. So, for example, people would still get hungry, but not to the point of starvation. There would always be food to satisfy them when the hunger arises. And some people might be poorer than others in my personal utopia. But only if they chose to be. Because some people do prefer more...

The Drabble

When Life Goes Right, Then

The hill beckoned to me like an old friend.  I could relax, cozy and warm, later, but for now I was ready for the slopes. My feet strapped in, my friends at the bottom, waiting for me to descend... I flew down the slopes, feeling the biting wind. This was heaven.
   I had never felt more alive.

But as the day progressed, the thin covering of my leggings failed. My legs hurt with the bitter cold and numbness became normal. 
Getting out of wet clothes at home, I looked in the mirror...
”Oh! Purple knees? That’s not a problem, right?” 

The Christmas Curse of Gilead, CHapter 1 (Please Review)

Chapter 1 
I can’t recall a time that I was unaware of the curse. 
It seemed as much a part of my family as our house and the woods behind it. There was the large stone chimney, always spouting smoke from Mother’s cooking, there was the endless forest with countless trees to climb for me and my cousins, and there was the curse.
It hung over our heads like a stormcloud, always present, but hardly ever mentioned. Why would we talk about it constantly, anyway? It was very much a natural part of us and our family, as familiar as a close friend. 
“Mother,” I remember asking, one Christmas eve when I could not have been more than four. 
“Tell me how  Uncle Eli got sent to the forest.” 
We were sitting close to the fireplace by the window, wrapped in warm blankets.  A solitary figure walked away from our cozy house through the snow as we watched out the...

The Christmas Curse of Gilead, CHapter 1 (Please Review)

Chapter 1 
I can’t recall a time that I was unaware of the curse. 
It seemed as much a part of my family as our house and the woods behind it. There was the large stone chimney, always spouting smoke from Mother’s cooking, there was the endless forest with countless trees to climb for me and my cousins, and there was the curse.
It hung over our heads like a stormcloud, always present, but hardly ever mentioned. Why would we talk about it constantly, anyway? It was very much a natural part of us and our family, as familiar as a close friend. 
“Mother,” I remember asking, one Christmas eve when I could not have been more than four. 
“Tell me how  Uncle Eli got sent to the forest.” 
We were sitting close to the fireplace by the window, wrapped in warm blankets.  A solitary figure walked away from our cozy house through the snow as we watched out the...

The Sea Above Us

We walk upon the earth
and look to the sky
we sail on the sea
and scale mighty mountains

all but unaware of the world above

Travel higher than the mountains
and higher than the birds
up where clouds form
and you would reliaze

there is another world above us
the clouds are the gate to the great sea above
a sea which rolls and moves with such force
it seems to be alive
it is a sea of deepest blue
teaming with life of every kind
reminiscent but more glorious
than the seas we know

And above that sea there is another sky
again, more brilliant than the one we know
but most of all, the sea

and when a narwhal dives too deep
and punctures the clouds with its’ tusk
they burst
and rain comes down upon the earth
the falling of the  sea

and when we see shapes in the sky
It is the reality of the...

PLEASE READ AND COMMENT: To Save a King Part 1

Granite slabs
entomb me
As the hidden king
of Wenward reigns

this dark sepulcher
traps me
i try to utter words
and yet am stifled

my subjects turned
against me 
my commands remain
unheard 


                                                                Part 1 
       Fern never understood how Jana took so long fetching the water. Her older sister had gone out at dawn to gather eggs from the chickens and to do the rest of her chores. Having already returned with the eggs over half an hour ago, Jana had gone out again with the buckets to fetch water from the stream. Sure the stream was a few minutes away- through the west end of the Glass Woods, but it shouldn’t take Jana as long as it did.
  Fern, having her own chores...

Undeniable

It’s in the stillness of the crowd
and in the silence of the singing voices
in the fire of the rain
and in the reasons for our choices 

this feeling indescribable
alight inside my heart
The truth most undeniable
tearing the world apart

it’s in the shuffle of the strangers’ feet
walking on a city street
and in the eyes of every person
too afraid to speak

it remains unspoken and yet is heard
the line where truth and lie 
becomes blurred

the chaos 
and the beauty 
of this world

 

Given First Line

To Sail the World

"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board."  That's what my grandfather said to me the day we went to the docks.
We stood and watched the sailing boats race, and feeling the wind on my face, I smiled and wondered aloud what it would be like to ride over the waves in complete control of such a noble vessel. "It would be like flying," I said, dangling my feet off the pier above the blue water below. 
"I've been on such a ship," Grandfather murmured. He sat beside me, taking a moment to inhale the fresh air. "The Clarabelle." "Grandfather did not speak much of his sailing days, but when he did, he seemed years younger." "Named after Grandmother?" He nodded and touched his wedding ring. "We were to sail the world together." He laughed. In the moment, I could no longer hear the calling of the seagulls or the creaking of the dock. There was only...

All the Things I’d Hope for In You

So, it’s kind of weird
up until this year I never, ever thought I would want to get married
and hey, I still have time to decided- lots and lots of time
but I may as well think about it, 
so hear goes:

Hi. I don’t know if you exist, but if you do,

all I want is someone who I can laugh with
and be ridiculous with,
someone who doesn’t mind that
I’m a bit ditzy and absent-minded
someone who can cook 
and likes animals
someone who would get it if I didn’t want to talk
and be there when I did 
someone who finds my sister to be a friend
cause I can’t imagine my significant other not liking my best friend

I imagine we would take long walks together
and go outside and dance in the rain

maybe we would even
have snowball fights

i would love it if we went on picnics
and wrote plays together
...

“All Alive”

Memories of Horses and Bikes

I could feel the rough wood of the treehouse beneath me when I awoke, covered in blankets.
The skylight above me cloaked me in warm sun. “Cecelia! Wake up!” 
Beside me, my older sister stirred. “A few more minutes...”
 All it took was a few minutes and the smell of sizzling bacon and cooking eggs was enough to wake her. We hugged. “Did you sleep well?” I asked. “Well enough- but I had a strange dream about the mines... there was a cave-in.”
It wasn’t long before our stomachs were full with good, warm food, and we had to get to town for work. There was a hatch in the floor of the treehouse and a rope ladder that led to the forest floor below. We descended, until...
         ” Where are you girls going?” Mom asked, holding laundry. The spell that had been cast over us broke.
“To the village-“ I began.
“I mean, we were...

On Basic Human Decency (Please read footnotes!:))

 I remember watching the Disney classic, Swiss Family Robinson, at a very young age and enjoying it immensely- until about halfway through the movie. The first part was a daring adventure of an immigrant family surviving a shipwreck and forging a new life for themselves on an uninhabited island. There was a tree horse, a baby elephant, and even pirates. What wasn’t to love. I remember sitting on my couch as the family discovered that the captain boy Bertie was really Roberta, the granddaughter of a merchant kidnapped by pirates. 
And that’s when the movie became a little less enjoyable for me. 
Having discovered Bertie was really Roberta, the two teenage sons of the family completely changed their attitudes towards her. Beforehand they mocked her as weak, pathetic, worthless, and made a general show of revealing their disdain toward the cabin “boy”. The moment she revealed her true identity, however, they became courteous, chivalrous, and polite- even saying,” Well, we...

Breath

I sat and I thought 
one early morning
sitting as still and as silent as the sky

i hardly stirred and the only movement
was the rise and fall of my breath

sitting
thinking
feeling
alone with my thoughts
with gentle piano playing in my mind 

as I sat there
on the carpeted floor of my house
i became aware

of the earth beneath me
of the sky above me
of the constant beating of my heart

the dark of my closed eyes 
the still of the moment 
the things that set me apart

and I became aware
of the feeling of a breath
of the pressure as I sat
of the stirring of my soul

before my eyes reopened
i sighed and breathed the calm
and returned to the waking world 
renewed

Earth and Leaf

Red and gold fall in droplets
Like rain to the ground
the earth and elements unite in a
 harmonious union of leaf and earth

Their joy at being together is heard
with every footstep of a child
producing a delightful crackle 
unto the earth 

There is only a moment, or two
before earth and leaf, united at last
are put to rest under a veil
of white and snow

A Small Collection of (Hopefully) Inspiring Quotes



"Accepting yourself doesn't mean you never work to better yourself. What it does mean, though, is that you realize that you are worth the change."

"Be passionate about the things you enjoy, loving to the people you know, and grateful for a chance at life."

"You do not have to be perfect to be perfectly wonderful."

"Every word I write is a reflection of my soul."

"We are who we become, not who we are born as. Know yourself."

 

Muted and Off- Camera

They want to see my face
for me to turn my camera on,
and they ask for participation
even though I mentally haven't awakened

they want to see my face and my house and
have things be normal
but this is 2020
when nothing is normal at all

if I did turn the camera on
would my teachers accept what they see:
a red-eyed, tired teen,
who gets headaches from looking at screens all day,
whose college-age brother might walk on camera
and crash the class,
whose house is a mess 
and whose hair is unbrushed

There is safety in anonimity
comfort in not being seen

So I have become a black box with a white name
not a face or a person
I hide behind my screen
trying desperately
to retain my humanity
during this strange, strange time 

Memories of Who I Was, Who I Am

I look into a pond and see myself looking back.
The girl who stands before me is someone I know well, and yet, hardly know at all. She is constantly changing, thinks conflicting thoughts in one moment, and is still discovering who she is.
  Let me describe her a bit for you. She is of average height and size, having grown one inch in the past three months, but she shrinks sometimes into herself- hunching her shoulders and hugging herself.
She has scrawny arms and unruly brown hair, gray eyes, freckles, and glasses and braces. She wishes that she were thinner, prettier, more attractive, but she looks at her reflection many times, hoping to see someone or something she admires.
       But what you can not see is her mind, her thoughts, her experiences, her values, and beliefs. The reflection in the pond is simply not enough to grasp her character. 

So let us dive into the pond,...

Memories of Who I Was, Who I Am

I look into a pond and see myself looking back.
The girl who stands before me is someone I know well, and yet, hardly know at all. She is constantly changing, thinks conflicting thoughts in one moment, and is still discovering who she is.
  Let me describe her a bit for you. She is of average height and size, having grown one inch in the past three months, but she shrinks sometimes into herself- hunching her shoulders and hugging herself.
She has scrawny arms and unruly brown hair, gray eyes, freckles, and glasses and braces. She wishes that she were thinner, prettier, more attractive, but she looks at her reflection many times, hoping to see someone or something she admires.
       But what you can not see is her mind, her thoughts, her experiences, her values, and beliefs. The reflection in the pond is simply not enough to grasp her character. 

So let us dive into the pond,...

Stillness of Snow

I remember the sound of singing
like that of angels 
coming from a world
cloaked in white

i remember lights
bright enough 
to outdo the night
And stars that shone so clearly 
one could almost reach out and
hold them
in one’s palm

but most of all,
I remember still
stillness covering me like a blanket
wraoping me in peace
the only sound- my breath
i remember waking to the stillness of snow
and watching earth transform from
dying to angelic
with each new snowflake 

Yes, I am Enough

You know what?
I'm really tired of never feeling like enough,
of never accepting what is,
striving for what might be
and missing the present.

I honestly don't know how I have lived this long 
with this constant
voice saying, "You are what you do, you are judged by
how many friends you have,
you are never enough."

You know what? 
I think I am enough.

Right now, as tired and disgruntled from school as I am,
Right now, even as I miss my sister,
upstairs,
who I haven't talked to- really had a good conversation with-
since Monday

Right now, 
as I am.
As I will be.

I am enough.
You are enough.
We are all enough.

Enough for what?

Enough for myself,
good enough to strive to be better,
while accepting who I am 
now.

Right now.

In this moment.

In this breath.

Yes, I am Enough

You know what?
I'm really tired of never feeling like enough,
of never accepting what is,
striving for what might be
and missing the present.

I honestly don't know how I have lived this long 
with this constant
voice saying, "You are what you do, you are judged by
how many friends you have,
you are never enough."

You know what? 
I think I am enough.

Right now, as tired and disgruntled from school as I am,
Right now, even as I miss my sister,
upstairs,
who I haven't talked to- really had a good conversation with-
since Monday

Right now, 
as I am.
As I will be.

I am enough.
You are enough.
We are all enough.

Enough for what?

Enough for myself,
good enough to strive to be better,
while accepting who I am 
now.

Right now.

In this moment.

In this breath.

Pandemic Memoir

Waiting for Tomorrow

 I can only wait and hope. 

Truth

Truth
A funny word, I think
because it describes
what was
what exists
what reality not only appears to be but is

and yet, 
truth is slippery
it is a dolphin leaping in and out of the ocean water
beautiful to see, difficult to hold, near impossible to obtain

there are truths- different beliefs, different views-
are these all true?
but, no, they can not be,
unless there are different realities existing in the world

so- what is this truth?
Is it the ocean wave, always changing, never constant,
conforming to the mind and attitude of the viewer?
or is truth the ocean
the water
the lifeblood of existence?

to think of truth
is to believe in certainty
to accept that what we comprehend
is logical, real, understandable

to think of truth is to live
to strive for truth is to write
to live the truth is to be what we are

is truth the wave or the water?
we...

Thoughts on a Dreary November Morning

I feel like I’m not enough 
and why would people love me
when I don’t even like myself?

Even at a very young age, I remember hearing someone say- Love your neighbor as yourself-

no, I thought,
they don’t deserve to be hated

this is a constant struggle- how I feel about the girl
looking back at me

the person I am alone with at night,
thinking
the one who controls my thoughts 

me.

other people seem so confident-
how? How?
I don’t understand how someone could like themselves
or how some days I do

why is it that some days I am content with who I am 
but most of the time 
I wish I wasn’t me?


and it’s not even because of other people
i have not faced discrimination for who I am
i have never been looked down upon because of my 
race, sex, identity

so why do I treat myself in a way i 
wouldn’t treat...

PLEASE READ AND COMMENT: To Save a King Part 1

Granite slabs
entomb me 
As the hidden king
of Wenward reigns

this dark sepulcher
traps me
i try to utter words
and yet am stifled

my subjects turned
against me 
my commands remain
unheard 


                                                                Part 1 
       Fern never understood how Jana took so long fetching the water. Her older sister had gone out at dawn to gather eggs from the chickens and to do the rest of her chores. Having already returned with the eggs over half an hour ago, Jana had gone out again with the buckets to fetch water from the stream. Sure the stream was a few minutes away- through the west end of the Glass Woods, but it shouldn’t take Jana as long as it did.
  Fern, having her own chores...

In Awe of Past Me

I have no idea how I did it- how did I do it? 
Those hours upon hours studying for tests
and then still having the energy to hang out and relax,
going to bed eager for what was to come.

How did I do it?
Function the way I did, running off little energy,
hardly any food,
and yet feeling so alive?

How was I able to do the fall play,
and still have time to do homework,
when I'm not doing anything now
and I can barely stay awake in class?

What did I have then that I don't have now?
I have more friends now
and stronger relationships
I eat better now- shouldn't my mind be clearer?

How did I write every morning,
go to school,
play the violin,
watch TV,
do all my homework,
hang with my sister,
draw a little,
have play practice
read, 
and still, get to bed before 10:00?
I must have been superhuman.
...

The Things To Remember

In a year, I won’t remember if x=y or what that even means
In a week, I will forget the moment when someone I want to know better
ignored me for his friends
In a day, will I care that I wore my sister’s coat to school instead of mine?
In an hour, I won’t obsess about how hungry I am
In a minute, math class will be done.

So, what will I remember of these high school years?

The wonderful feeling as a freshman when I realized 
I have friends
And the sound of the overture starting 
for my first high school play

That comment an upperclassmen made
about my musical abilities 
and the group photos after a performance

the feeling to come home to a sister who is a friend
and be able to tell her, “I had a good day”
filled with laughter 

The tears that came as I looked in the mirror
suddenly ashamed of who...

Reflection

I, trapped
Behind the glass
You reach your hand we touch 
But I can not feel
You used to smile at me
Now all you do is frown
Worry creases your eyes
I, trapped 
Behind the mirror
The enticing mirror 
Draws you in
Traps me forever
I am but reflection of you
Living, breathing, moving reflection
But without soul
Without heart
I try to warn you 
Not to look into the mirror
For it brings terrible thoughts, feelings, beliefs
Better left unexplored

But I, trapped,
Am but reflection
And so I mimic your movement
Unable to warn you of the mirror’s entrancing power
 

Stars of the Past

And the stars twinkle
but their light does not exist

though in my mind it does
my mind of the present, is tricked

to believe that these stars, so bright
Are real
though I know they are past

I see the light of the past 
the universe that used to be 

I see the soul of the sky
I see the faded galaxy

It is too much to think that
what I perceive is unreal

if my eyes deceive how can I know that what I
hear
        taste
                feel
is not an illusion of my mind?

My mind, 
which alone can
comprehend itself

This curse to think and yet remain unsure
If what I know is truly what life is

 For perhaps, in present time,
the sky is vacant of light

perhaps the sky is black
and night is truly night 

 

A Home is a House that Holds Memories

What is your favorite thing about your home?


I love that
when I wake up, I
see the Sun streaming in from the
window by my bed.

I love the old hanging drawings
made by small hands 
grasping crayons
that may parents have kept despite
the pull of time.

I love the memories each room holds.
The bedroom, where the bed
became a ship to ride
when my sister and I were explorers
the family room, with the fireplace
where our stockings hung
and we would wake at 4 am 
to see what lay inside 
the living room, which became
our dance floor and the large window
which was our stage 


Most of all, I love 
the laughter 
mostly with my sister, my best friend
but also with everyone as a family
the singing coming from downstairs 
bursting out of every corner
and the back yard
where wild kittens 
were born in a hallowed stump
many years ago.

November Grab Bag

Watch

Write a poem using the word watch three times.

Watch.
Ticking by minutes
seconds 
lives 
away
golden brown
ever shining
clean round face
making time decay

Watch
when it’s gears rust
And mechanisms fail
it marches on
spinning
ticking 
So small
and yet dictating
the progression of our lives
by time

Watch
the 
ever running
never stopping
ticking 
of the 
clock 

To Create Emotions (Piece #50!)

To create music
is to spin straw into gold
and into the air the clear notes fly
unseen but heard 

to sing is to lift one’s soul to angels
who answer with pure tones
and to join in earth’s harmony 
and to fly

to create music is to
make life
reduce grown men to tears
at the beauty of the invisible song
sung by your heart, produced by fingers on string 
Or by vibrations from throat 

sadness exemplified in low tones
or exuberance unrivaled
are all produced from 
the golden chords we call song

music is to create emotion
music is to live a song

To Create Emotions (Piece #50!)

To create music
is to spin straw into gold
and into the air the clear notes fly
unseen but heard 

to sing is to lift one’s soul to angels
who answer with pure tones
and to join in earth’s harmony 
and to fly

to create music is to
make life
reduce grown men to tears
at the beauty of the invisible song
sung by your heart, produced by fingers on string 
Or by vibrations from throat 

sadness exemplified n low tones
or exuberance unrivaled
are all produced from 
the golden chords we call song

music is to create emotion
music is to live a song

Mediocracy

Has anyone ever wished they could draw? I do, all the time.

It's not that I have no artistic talent whatsoever, I mean I can draw okay cartoon eyes and the occasional flower. I am not, in my family's opinion, a "bad" artist. My level slightly exceeds drawing stick figures.
But that's the thing. I'm not super bad, but I'm not good either. 
I feel like this in so many aspects of life, when people subdivide others into groups: good or bad. I am neither in a lot of things.
I can cook, but only a few select foods- including pasta and frozen vegetables.
I can sing, but only during certain times of the day. (This is 100% true. In the afternoon I'll be singing my soul out to show tunes, hitting high notes, and feeling amazing. In the first half of the day, I can barely sing the alphabet song.) 
I get good grades, but only in half of...

Heart and Soul

Where did you go, my heart?
When I look inside of myself,
all I see is dark

all I feel is still
all I know is doubted 

where are you, my soul?

take me on wings 
to home
fly me to the sky
and let me bask in the heavens

where heart and mind and soul
meld into

human being

Behind the Clouds

In day
The clouds dot white in blue 



Behind the clouds 
there are birds flying 
and sun rays blocked
from eyesight 

a hidden world
of star and day 
of creature and creation 

day or night 
the clouds drift 
presumably aimlessly 

and if you fly
into the far reaches 
of the atmosphere

the clouds you saw from earth
so white
so powerful,
powerful enough to block the sun

the clouds wrap you in their essence
but can not be seen

Perfect Tears

She can be dysfunctional
and still receive good grades
she can smile on the surface and mean it
and cry the same day
with bitter tears

i never understood how someone can be so perfect
And yet so broken
how her smile can move mountains 
yet her tears can drown the world


last night she spoke to me 
telling me why she cried
And laughed, though that time the laughter
was dark

all I could do was listen 
and strive, try so hard to understand
how things got to be this way
why a pandemic had to happen now
when life was finally going so well 

all I could do was listen and 
strive to understand
Though in my head 
I was confused
my heart understood
the pain and loss this year has brought

I wish...

Never knowing
always guessing
head spinning
stomach growling
heart racing
when the teacher calls


Zoom meeting
completing
i miss
friends laughing
people chatting
actually knowing 
what to do

i want to go home
but wait...
I already am

 

Writing as Warmth, Writing as Fire

When you write
because demons will crowd your mind if you do not
and the beating of your heart grows louder
with each word on the page
         then you are a writer

when you write despite calloused fingers and 
a bent back
because through writing, you are born again
        then you are a writer

when you write in a blizzard
 fingers frozen frostbite bitten
writing to keep warm
when writing is the flame in your heart
fire In your eyes
warmth in winter

when writing runs through your veins
then you are a writer

I Wish to Join my Tears with Rain

It is raining and I sit inside
     the earth is renewing and yet I sit and write
I want to share in the world and feel the tears of nature drip onto my face
becoming one with my own tears

and yet I sit inside and write 
I want to add to this world
create beauty and life
I tell myself
Sit and write
create something worth reading
I say 

as my fingers move across keys
with white-on-black letters
i dream

yes, i want to create 
to add to this world
create rainbows where only clouds existed
but also,

i want to be the cloud,
and join in the rain-song
accept the good already here
in the cloud-filled, graying sky
as it rains

Star, Answer

Stars, so you know?

What does it all mean?

These white pinpricks of light
on a velvet globe
and the wind whistling through the grasses

as my eyes see shapes and stars, heroes and monster 

in the curtain of the sky

the veil separating humans from the heavens

Yes, stars, answer.

What does it all mean?

Is there a theme to the grand design,

is there a needle that poked those holes of light in the sky
and took the thread of life and wove it together

to make a tapestry

or is it beauty without purpose?

life without cause?

either way, stars, you are there

you and me in the night 

 and I marvel at you

either way

Silver and the King

                         This is a story about a king. But it is not just the story of a king. 
What kind of a king, you ask? Well, he wasn’t the best and he wasn’t the nicest. To be completely honest, this king cared nothing about his subjects and nothing about his servants. The only thoughts he had were directed at himself. 
        One day, as this king sat on his throne overlooking his kingdom, he grew sad because he had never ventured to the sea and a king, he thought, should have no limits. “Steward!” He roared. His servants came running, trembling under his wrath. “Prepare me my carriage and the finest horses in the stables. I wish to venture to the ocean and know that it too belongs to me.” The steward bowed. “Your majesty, “ He began. “The far reaches of this land are not...

Heart Places

Land of Yesterday

I miss the place I loved. It was a place of mind, really, a place symbolic of a simpler time when my biggest worry was that my parents wouldn’t let me go play.
I miss waking up and giggling with delight as my sister and I built a block fort and created elaborate stories to fill the days.
I want the times when I was younger.
It was characterized by joy and laughter and smiles.
By candy and friendship bracelets and not caring about harder things.
In that time there was innocence.
In that place, I did not know struggle.
I did not know pain.
But, though I dreaded and feared it, I came to the bridge between the land of youth and the country of the older.
I tried to resist stepping onto that bridge. I feared it could not bear my weight, but with the passage of the sun and the moon, night fell and I grew cold....

That Sort of Person

That Sort of Person

She’s the sort of person who said, “Sorry, I don’t have the time.”, because she had to go home and watch a movie with her cats.


Gabriel was the sort of person that everyone liked until they saw how he treated his parents.


She could walk through the hallway without saying a word, and people would still flock to her like birds. Her reputation preceded her. 


Humphrey would make decisions based on emotion rather than logic, and no matter what the decision, he would defend his choice to the end. 

Dust Jacket

Me :)

  1. Three communities to which you belong (these can be unusual).   
    Church, Write the World :), musicians
  2. Three places you learn well (these can be unusual).   
    In my bedroom, in trees (climbing them), outside
  3. Three adjectives your peers would use to describe you.
    Quiet, sweet, and interesting
  4. Three adjectives your family would use.
  5. Quirky, sweet , cute
  6. Three adjectives you would use.
  7. Introspective, wishful,  
  8. Three beliefs you hold.   
    No one is completely certain of anything, we are all just trying to find the answers. 
    Sisters make the best friends.
  9. One is never too old to have a childlike heart.
  10. Three sources of comfort.   
    My sister, acting, God
  11. Three responsibilities you shoulder.   
  12. Leader of a service club at school, 
  13. Three things of which you are proud.  
    My novel ( though it’s not very far along), my friends, and the plays I’ve been in 
  14. Three qualities that make your life singular and/or unusual.
  15. I didn’t get a phone...

Why I Write

Why i Write

I write to understand myself. When I put words onto paper, the words in my head become real. When I write, I separate fact from fiction, lie from truth, belief from thought, question from answer. I write because- what else would I do?

Heart Places

Land of Yesterday

I miss the place I loved. It was a place of mind, really, a place symbolic of a simpler time when my biggest worry was that my parents wouldn’t let me go play.
I miss waking up and giggling with delight as my sister and I built a block fort and created elaborate stories to fill the days.
I want the times when I was younger.
It was characterized by joy and laughter and smiles.
By candy and friendship bracelets and not caring about harder things.
In that time there was innocence.
In that place, I did not know struggle.
I did not know pain.
But, though I dreaded and feared it, I came to the bridge between the land of youth and the country of the older.
I tried to resist stepping onto that bridge. I feared it could not bear my weight, but with the passage of the sun and the moon, night fell and I grew cold....

Heart Places

Land of Yesterday

I miss the place I loved. It was a place of mind, really, a place symbolic of a simpler time when my biggest worry was that my parents wouldn’t let me go play.
I miss waking up and giggling with delight as my sister and I built a block fort and created elaborate stories to fill the days.
I want the times when I was younger.
It was characterized by joy and laughter and smiles.
By candy and friendship bracelets and not caring about harder things.
In that time there was innocence.
In that place, I did not know struggle.
I did not know pain.
But, though I dreaded and feared it, I came to the bridge between the land of youth and the country of the older.
I tried to resist stepping onto that bridge. I feared it could not bear my weight, but with the passage of the sun and the moon, night fell and I grew cold....

All Talk

The Argument

I keep telling you to leave my stuff alone! Why can’t you remember anything-
I was trying to help you clean, can’t you be grateful?
Girls, what’s going on?
She keeps touching my instruments- she almost broke the violin
Only because you asked me to sweep...
I didn’t mean near the bed, and you should have been watching the broom handle- that’s a lethal weapon
Who watches the broom handle when they sweep? I would miss the stuff on the floor I was trying to get, then...
Mom, she took the violin case out from under the bed 
so I could sweep, geez
and somehow unlatched it-
somehow? You left it unlatched, that wasn’t me-
-put it in on the bed and hit the case with the broom handle-
I said I was sorry!
and there goes my new violin that I got one. Month. Ago-
It didn’t break, stop overreacting.
I could have and all because of you.
You...

On Faith and God

I have often wondered about the meaning of life. The textbook definition I learned in at my private, Catholic gradeschool was to obey, love, and serve God to the best of your ability to prepare you for life in Heaven with God.
As I’ve grown older, I have wrestled with making the faith of my family my own. I do not think I believe everything I have been taught. I am capable of making my own decisions.
I wonder if there is a God, if He is the loving and benevolent God I have heard of. I wonder why he does not show Himself to be God in a way all humans would understand and accept if he does exist. These questions raise doubts. 
But a world without God seems too big, and large, and dark, and empty. 
I am on a journey of discovery that began years ago and has led almost nowhere. Conclusions are definite things, and I...

I Should be Studying French

I should be studying French
sitting here in  study hall
watching the clock tick
i should be studying French 

but I’m not

of course I’m not
when one can write a poem about not studying french
why would one actually study?

failing a test, maybe
says me 
oh, but that’s too much stress
too much work
i’m tired
i’m hungry
i should be at home 
and I keep writing

really, I should have
done in last night
after doing physics and English and pre-calc and APUSH
the whole darn afternoon

but of course I didn’t 
I went to bed 
why would I study last night if I could just study now?
why would I study now if I can study at lunch?


i really ought to be studying french
je devrais étudier francais
I should be studying French

“Heaven of Freedom”

Paradise


a place as light and airy
as a cloud
a place where truth is known
and understood
A place with discovery friendship honesty love
a place without hatred poverty war
a place this earth might someday be
hraven on earth
set us free

Intersection

Stand the Trees

the smell of sawdust
as I walk out the door
to see a tree, fallen, cut

this epidemic in my neighborhood
where trees can not take root

even the strong, climbing, gorgeous tree
sitting on my front lawn
an old friend from childhood 
has faded

it’s branches bare
even in summer
the bark peeling and gray 

all around, in neighboring yards
there lay piles of cut wood
sad and brown and useless


we counted the rings of one
cut tree
eighty years 
it has stood strong
as long as the house for which it was planted


the house still stands
the tree, alas, only stands
in memory

Struggle to Triumph

I have forged through the storm.
I have rushed down the river.
I have stood on the mountain and seen wild fires spread.
I have fought for my life and I have mourned the lost dead.

To the One

Not everyone
has that person
The one who understands you better
than you understand yourself
the one everyone thinks is your twin
when really, you’re three years older
though she’s taller 
and louder
and more confident than you could hope 
Not everyone grew up
with a best friend
going from princess dresses
and tea parties
to acting in plays
and those teenage years
Not everyone has a sister like her

my life has struggles
nothing is ever perfect
but having someone
who listens late at night
when the stars are the only lights in the sky
makes a difference

and so
i am grateful
for her 


and to all those without 
that person
that best friend

don’t think they are nowhere
they could be somewhere near
so hope

 

Greatness

 I think of great authors, their names flying through the air like butterflies. I desire the catch them in a net, and set them down somewhere- just me and them- and ask them their secrets. How did they attain the magic that allowed them to create universes, to form men out of the dust of their minds, to write words that the winds of time could not wipe from the minds and hearts of those who read them? Is there a spell I must utter to create characters of paper and ink and turn them into flesh and blood? Are geniuses born, or made? 
Am I, writing now, capable of evoking emotion from others and writing what needs to be written when the world is in dire need? 
 I wonder if my words will be etched somewhere long after I am gone- carved in stone, or written on a monument, or even used for the prompt of someone’s school essay....

Sevenfold Quest Part 1

He took the sword from the ground and swung - slaying the dragon at last. The sword penetrated the scales as if they were paper and reached the dragons third and final heart. It took one moment, then two, before the fire of life in the dragons eye began to dim. Sad the day is.. The dragon said. When the killer becomes the killed." The boy closed his eyes, unable to watch the life he had taken fade. I'm sorry. He said. 
Then it was that Dundor the dragon was slain.
Reed dropped the sword. It lay cold and dead beside the dragon on the floor of the palace. He turned and left the great Hall. 
The moment before he stepped outside he breathed deeply and remembered what Griffin had told him. After the dragon speak to no one. Find the goblet. Bring it back.
Reed had a quest. It had only just begun. 

Sevenfold Quest Part 1

He took the sword from the ground and swung - slaying the dragon at last. The sword penetrated the scales as if they were paper and reached the dragons third and final heart. It took one moment, then two, before the fire of life in the dragons eye began to dim. Sad the day is.. The dragon said. When the killer becomes the killed." The boy closed his eyes, unable to watch the life he had taken fade. I'm sorry. He said. 
Then it was that Dundor the dragon was slain.
Reed dropped the sword. It lay cold and dead beside the dragon on the floor of the palace. He turned and left the great Hall. 
The moment before he stepped outside he breathed deeplu and remembered what Griffin had told him. After the dragon speak to no one. Find the goblet. Bring it back.
Reed had a quest. It had only just begun. 

Tagline Art

Body

                     How many times have I heard my friends or classmates criticize their bodies?
A typical conversation might go:“Oh, I’m so fat. I eat so much.” “Oh my gosh, me too!”  “Are you kidding? You’re a stick, compared to me! 
It’s almost an epidemic. Very few people seem comfortable in their own bodies. Skinner and smaller seems the ideal.
                                               But bodies are meant to be diverse!
No matter how small or large or short or tall or whatever, you are so much more than a body and you deserve to eat and eat with joy. 
                                                        It is your body. Own it. 

People as Nature

Wind

I am the wind. 
at times restless
at times soft and small
as a breeze
i do not know what causes me to
burst full force when cold already bites
Deep into your skin
or why some days I refuse to show myself
gently rustling leaves
But not daring to 
touch your face to relieve the heat
I am the wind
soft and gentle
i am the wind
Hot and bright

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

Masks

                                            No one saw the hidden battle raging in my head. 
No one ever asked me if I was okay. I had veiled the feelings behind a plastered smiling  mask too well. 
Until the day the mask fell, and the tears came pouring out, and the truth was spoken aloud for the first time.
Only then did I recognize the masks that others wore. Those who hurt, too afraid to let their masks slip. 
There we stood, all masks uncovered. We saw the truth behind the masks. Truth of struggles and pain that could, if we tried, be conquered.

The Unseen

Nothing else is needed

It is when you enter
home
after hours in the sun
When you kick off
worn, battered sneakers
to reveal
feet calloused and red
it is
sitting in the 
almost undetectable night air
on a swing
with a loved one
it is
a peaceful aura
of contentment
With the way 
life should be
 

Collective Voice

Humanity

We have been tossed in the shadows, trodden underfoot.
We have been laughed at, sneered at, hurt, and healed.
We have gained power and held it poorly.
We have been powerless and spoken in whispers. 
We have been misunderstood and we have had people who understand us better than we understand ourselves.
We have laughed and cried, been lonely, and been surrounded with companions.
We have grown and adapted.
We have fallen and failed.
None of us is perfect.
All of us have suffered.
Some of us give up hope.
Most of us continue on, hope against hope, for something bigger, something better, something different.
We have struggled to comprehend existence and our purpose.
We have accepted that we will never know all the answers.
Who are we?
We are humanity.
 

This I Believe

I Believe Life is a Gift

I believe that life is a gift.
Some people’s gifts presented more majestically
with decorative paper and bows and tags
while others are adorned
In simple brown paper.
But the gift
the gift of life
is the same gift
underneath the surface
 

Remember

Remember when 
I could hug you?
our faces clearly seen 
Not hindered by masks?
and remember when a trip to the supermarket
happened almost every day?
we would peruse the isles
for a minute or two
then run back out to the car
to wait for Mom?
remember when the weekends held possibility?
because they were different from the week?
and remember how we had energy to actually go outside?
i remember
remember?
can you remember 
this time before
Corona
quarantine

 

In Motion

Racing to Safety

I sprinted to the backyard where Caitlyn was already waiting for me. The moment we made eye contact, we were both of like two blazing rockets. From behind roared the sound we feared- something like a steam engine or a train pumping steam or smoke. I looked back just as we entered the forest. A giant thing was after us, charging ahead, clawing along the ground, and growling as if it’s life depended upon how intimidating it appeared. “It’s a dragon!” Caitlyn screamed. My lungs felt like they wanted to explode. I barely had the energy to scream back, “Just keep going!” Dragon or not, we had to reach the river. Make it there, and we were safe. 

Five Line Fiction

Camping

She didn’t want to go camping in the first place. I told her it would be fun to roast marshmallows and hike and do all the sorts of things we never could do in the city. Now I wish she hadn’t agreed to go with me. It would have been better to be cooped up in an apartment, reading old comic books and snacking on pretzels than wandering through the woods in the dark, cold night. There was only the moon to light our way back to camp, and even the moon was just a sliver of light in the sky. 

Zoom Out

Beyond the Fence

I wake up and breathe in the air, letting it fill my lungs. It feels good to be alive, even though the air is stale and still. The last few days have been torment. My fever has finally broken, and I sit up
 in bed.

          Outside, the world is cloaked in white and the evergreen trees near my window are sagging under the weight of the snow. The frost on the windows creeps through the glass to make my skin tingle with cold despite my many blankets. I imagine my breath hanging in the air. 
            Farther beyond the trees, lies the high black fence surrounding the hospital. It’s for our safety, they say. So we don’t try to leave until we are better. I believe them, though I wonder why the fence is needed anyway. Beyond the fence is more snow, and more hills, and more wilderness. The only...

Open Prompt

To me, 2030

Dear me,
What’s it like being 25? 
Are you happy? 
Are you healthy?
What’s it like to be alive
in the year 2030?
Are there flying cars,
or men on Mars,
have you finished writing your book?
Are you still awkward,
still quiet and shy,
or have those teenage syndromes 
passed you by?

Dear future me,
What’s it like being 25?
Are you happy?
Are you healthy?
And most importantly...
are you still me?


 

Writing Goals 2020

Goals for 2020

My writing goal: 
I want to be able to write every day. Last year, I had a book of writing prompts and I did one a day without fail- until sometime in June. Once I skipped one day, I skipped weeks. This year, I want to have perseverance in my writing, so even if I stop writing for a time, I can get back on my feet and start strong again.


My Craft goal:I really, really want to be able to write works that inspire and touch people. To be able to craft characters that people can relate to and to imagine worlds that I can almost see. If my writing doesn’t inspire, effect, or impact other people, I will be disappointed. I want to be a writer and write because of the impact words can have. Even if my writing only effects the life of one other person in the world ,that means that I have accomplished something tangible...

World’s Awakening

I wished upon a star in the velvet sky
As the angels breathed on me
It was late winter
With spring on the horizon
And the velvet sky rippled
With warmth and light
It was late winter
And the pink of the dawn had not yet come
The sky covered all the earth
In a velvet cloak of deep blue- almost black
It was late winter
And the sky felt the world
Was about to awaken

Three Gifts

Christmas Gifts

1.         Give the gift of a positive attitude every day. We all have a choice as to how we behave, and people deeply appreciate when there is a person in their life who greets them with positivity. This doesn’t have to mean always being happy and looking on the bright side of everything, because that can get very irritating. Being positive can be as simple as listening to a friend when they have a problem and not brushing their problems off as inconsequential. It can mean not complaining about your problems all the time, instead, thanking people when they help you with anything. 
    Best of all, this gift doesn’t need to be wrapped, and it can last year-round.


2.     Prioritize your time and give it to others. Instead of putting school, or work, or hobbies, or anything else in front of family and friends, give the gift of time to those you care...

Why I Write

Why i Write

I write for the same reason I sing and play the violin. Writing opens doors to worlds not yet conceived, just as music transports musicians and listeners alike to another dimension and allows them to experience a sixth sense- art. 

Open Prompt

To me, 2030

F“Come here. I’m going to tell you a story”
   “Not now.”
Please?”
”Honestly, stop treating me like I’m a child. I have plans. Where are the car keys?” 
I have them. And I’m not getting them until you let me tell you something.”
”You’re acting like a brat. I...”
*Ring*
”Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming. It may take me a couple minutes go. Tell the guys I’m sorry that I couldn’t come to the movie yesterday but I.... Honestly, it’s not my fault. And it’s not my fault I’m going to be late today. I’ll see you there.”
You’re going?”
”Yes. Give me the car keys. She’s mad at me already for missing the movie.”
As you want.”
”So I guess the story wasn’t as important as you were acting.” 
Oh, it is. But if you’re late, by all means go. Why should you want to hear about your past?”
”My past?”
”...

Lyrical Stratum

Friends

Friends
those you see everyday are just aquaitences. Until the first, “Hello, Good morning!” Is exchanged. And then you know their name and you ask about their day. And the weather. Learning about their lives and laughing as the day wears on. Suddenly you know who they are. Not just their name. Not just their face. Who they are.


Sisters
Friends you are born with. The people you can scream at. And are forced to be with. And neither of you remember what the argument was about. Which argument? You ask. And you can cry on their bed or laugh in their face. Brutally honest about flaws, faults, failures, and successes. Neither sister taking insult. Because sisters and the friends you’re born with.

Words
Because, when they speak it means. they see you and they know you want to hear what they say. you will listen, for small talk. As it turns to deep conversation. As you listen.
the words...

World’s Awakening

I wished upon a star in the velvet sky
As the angels breathed on me
It was late winter
With spring on the horizon
And the velvet sky rippled
With warmth and light
It was late winter
And the pink of the dawn had not yet come
The sky covered all the earth
In a velvet cloak of deep blue- almost black
It was late winter
And the sky felt the world
Was about to awaken

Open Prompt

To me, 2030

       Last night a boy at my high school died. He was a grade above me, and I knew his name, even though I didn’t know his face. Everyone knew of him, and everyone knew he was sick, too. Stage three brain cancer... or something. The whole story went over my head, but I go parts of it. Diagnosed last year. 
       Last Christmas he was alive. Struggling, but alive. And last Christmas, I wonder if he was wondering if that last Christmas would be his last Christmas ever. I wonder, as I look at the December sky, and the stars twinkling in it, and the brown grass that has yet to be relieved by snow, what death is like. The world is dying- it’s December after all- and the vegetation is going brown. The leaves have fallen from the trees. Early winter is a season which makes me pensive and thoughtful, especially this year.
 ...

Storm Girl

As the sky
turns blood red
streaked with gold and blue
as the wind whips through the grass
and shivers crawl up my back
like spiders
i step forward
step by step
into the advancing wind
which blows against me

I am a solitary girl heading towards the storm.

as I shiver with fear 
As the temperature drops
I am a girl in the storm

I walk 
over rocks and dead grass
into
The eye of the storm
looking out and as the wind blows 
i am in the storm
calm despite the roaring wind
If I have walked
alone
head on into
the storm
i can stand and step
by step by step
walk out of the 
storm 

the sky is sapphire blue
and storm winds bring
change





 

Random Ramblings

Sometimes I wonder what the point of getting up in the morning, going to school, going home, doing homework, and repeating everything the next day is. Some days, like today, when I’m tired and frustrated and not wanting to do anything and my friends are the same way, I wonder, “What would happen if we just didn’t? If we didn’t go to school and just stayed home.” My mom offered me that choice, but I said I couldn’t just skip school because I was tired. So even though I really didn’t want to, I got out of my nice, warm bed where I hardly slept last night and got dressed.

 I got on the bus all the same. I rode to school all the same. I’m sitting in the hallway right now, just the same, waiting for school to start even though I would much rather be at home. 
 So what is the point? 
So I can get into a...

Six-Word Story

Heartbreak

He left. I let him go.

Why I Write

Why i Write

I write because through words I fly
i am a bird
i am the sky

through words I dance
through words I sing
i am all 
i am desiring 

I create worlds once only thought 
And people of ink and pen
become of flesh and bone 

i write because others wrote before
 and passed the torch unto me
i write in joy and love and pain
i write for all I want to be 

If I had the choice to 
write or speak no more
i would write and write and write 
then go and write some more

Novel Writing Competition 2019

The Cacophony of War

       The sun has not yet risen, and the stumps of my candles are dwindling to emit only faint glows. The world is still, save for the bombs in the distance. Even at dawn, I can hear them. I shiver in the dark. Next to me, the other men are asleep. Their breathing is a constant and brings me comfort. I am supposed to be keeping watch, but my eyelids are closing by their own accord. In a last effort to stay awake, I retrieve my pencil and paper and compose a letter to Mother. She is far away, in America, probably safe in bed while I am here, on the other side of the world, shivering in the dark.

This is what I write:

Dearest Mother.                                                                                 August 1916
    It has been so long since I last saw you that I have almost forgotten your face. When all I see is other men and the endless miles of...