Laughing Eyes
Lazy Sighs
Flitting around the Corner
Timid Tears
Tiring Fears
Fighting past the Mourner
Silly Poking
Simple Joking
Flying down the Current
Absent Kisses
Altered Wishes
Flossing with Detergent
assignment topic was spooks cuz of halloween but i HATE halloween so this is wat i came up with.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Moving Our House
One tiny step at a time our feet slid noiselessly down the steps till we were about half way. We clung to the banister…
Mommy and Daddy are talking to the man in the TV room. He has dark hair and a big mustache, bigger than Daddy’s. His dark hair makes him look scary. I saw a man like that on TV once. He had a cowboy hat and a big ol’ scar ‘cross his cheek. You always know it’s the bad guy if he’s got a scar. I can’t tell if the man in our TV room has one but I think he probably does. Their voices are really quiet and I can’t hear what they are saying but Drewy says it’s something about our house and moving.
“Why would we move our house?” I ask.
We were close, real close. We had our tiffs of course like on the way to school when I used to poke him and bug him till he gave me a Charlie horse, or dead arm. I never cried though, I’d just poke him again till I got bored and my arm or leg was too sore to take anymore. They say when I was a baby he never wanted to put me down. He wanted to hold baby Ashy all the time even when I started crying. I know several times over the years he had a “talk” with a couple guys that hurt my feelings or that were a little too friendly with his little sister. He always had my back.
“Drewy wake up. Someone knocked on the door.” I whisper standing on the top part of the ladder. He doesn’t move so I nudge his arm. “Let’s go see.”
“Go back to bed Ash.” he says in that calm big brother way, but still sleepy. I push my lip out to pout still nudging his arm and holding on to the edge.
“Ok, ok. But you have to be really quiet or we’ll get spanked.” he says sitting up in bed, trying to look like Daddy, with his eyebrows scrunched together all funny.
I plastered on my most serious expression, trying to prove to him that I meant business and understood that there would be no silliness or this little escapade was off. The memory reminds me of in our second house when we used to plan little missions in the basement. It was dark, scary, and unfinished and we loved it. I got such a rush from slinking in the shadows and daring myself to be brave. I knew that if I ever got scared Andrew would be right behind me to beat up whatever monster lurked there.
Drewy crawls out of bed, down the ladder and we tip-toe to the stairs.
We were little mice like at church or preschool, slipping down the hall single file as quiet as can be. We jumped at every noise and over exaggerated every step. A floor board creaked and we both froze in terror and with a rush of adrenaline and excitement moved on…
We hide behind the corner when the man walks in and Daddy closes the door. Then we sneak down 1 stair, 2 stairs. We hold on to the railing, slip our feet one by one down the steps.
Secretly I collected Baby’s toys and hid them from him in my closet. But that was years later. Cap guns, light sabers, and that hammer he hit me in the head with when he was two, were stuffed into any place I could find. Sometimes if I ran out of space I would use my spot behind the pink couch but he usually found them there…
“Shhhh…” chided my brother holding a finger to his lips “Not this house. We might go to a new one. Because this one is too small, because now we have Austin. Don’t you want your own room again?” I decided not to ask any more questions because I did not appreciate being shushed.
I think that’s a silly reason. Why don’t we just give Austin away? I don’t like him anyway, he is noisy and no fun to play with. He can’t run and play like me and Drewy. And he took my princess room! Now I sleep in big brother’s room and he never lets me have the top bunk…
Is this what it’s all about: why we never got along? They took away my brand new, big girl, Minny Mouse, canopy bed. Said they put it away to keep it safe cause the baby needed my room. Aren’t I a good big sister for sharing? See how he repaid my generosity? A whack on the head with his hammer…
“Little brothers aren’t fun like big brothers.” I blurt out in a whisper voice.
“Well that’s just cause he is only a baby but someday he will be fun to play with.” he says. “I think the man is gonna leave soon so we better get back to bed.” Andrew tugs on my arm and we crawl back up a little noisier than we came. The voices get louder as the grown ups walk towards the door so we chase to the room faster. I giggle because it’s fun and he turns around to shush me again so I stick my tongue out. He smiles.
If someone told me to make a wish right then I would have wished for my pink princess room back to myself. If I were granted one now, I’d want that moment to last forever. I’d wish for the time when our childish innocence was untouched and our only obstacles included trying not to get caught eves dropping. Andrew and I are still closer than ever. He is getting married soon and that scares me but I’m so glad he is happy. Austin and I have more in common now, though we never got along growing up. I love my brothers and I hope we stay close forever.
When we are safely in the room he quietly closes the door but leaves enough space for his hand to fit, so the light from the bathroom comes in, just like Mommy does.
“G’night Sissy.” he says giving me a big hug.
“Night Bubba.” k
Mommy and Daddy are talking to the man in the TV room. He has dark hair and a big mustache, bigger than Daddy’s. His dark hair makes him look scary. I saw a man like that on TV once. He had a cowboy hat and a big ol’ scar ‘cross his cheek. You always know it’s the bad guy if he’s got a scar. I can’t tell if the man in our TV room has one but I think he probably does. Their voices are really quiet and I can’t hear what they are saying but Drewy says it’s something about our house and moving.
“Why would we move our house?” I ask.
We were close, real close. We had our tiffs of course like on the way to school when I used to poke him and bug him till he gave me a Charlie horse, or dead arm. I never cried though, I’d just poke him again till I got bored and my arm or leg was too sore to take anymore. They say when I was a baby he never wanted to put me down. He wanted to hold baby Ashy all the time even when I started crying. I know several times over the years he had a “talk” with a couple guys that hurt my feelings or that were a little too friendly with his little sister. He always had my back.
“Drewy wake up. Someone knocked on the door.” I whisper standing on the top part of the ladder. He doesn’t move so I nudge his arm. “Let’s go see.”
“Go back to bed Ash.” he says in that calm big brother way, but still sleepy. I push my lip out to pout still nudging his arm and holding on to the edge.
“Ok, ok. But you have to be really quiet or we’ll get spanked.” he says sitting up in bed, trying to look like Daddy, with his eyebrows scrunched together all funny.
I plastered on my most serious expression, trying to prove to him that I meant business and understood that there would be no silliness or this little escapade was off. The memory reminds me of in our second house when we used to plan little missions in the basement. It was dark, scary, and unfinished and we loved it. I got such a rush from slinking in the shadows and daring myself to be brave. I knew that if I ever got scared Andrew would be right behind me to beat up whatever monster lurked there.
Drewy crawls out of bed, down the ladder and we tip-toe to the stairs.
We were little mice like at church or preschool, slipping down the hall single file as quiet as can be. We jumped at every noise and over exaggerated every step. A floor board creaked and we both froze in terror and with a rush of adrenaline and excitement moved on…
We hide behind the corner when the man walks in and Daddy closes the door. Then we sneak down 1 stair, 2 stairs. We hold on to the railing, slip our feet one by one down the steps.
Secretly I collected Baby’s toys and hid them from him in my closet. But that was years later. Cap guns, light sabers, and that hammer he hit me in the head with when he was two, were stuffed into any place I could find. Sometimes if I ran out of space I would use my spot behind the pink couch but he usually found them there…
“Shhhh…” chided my brother holding a finger to his lips “Not this house. We might go to a new one. Because this one is too small, because now we have Austin. Don’t you want your own room again?” I decided not to ask any more questions because I did not appreciate being shushed.
I think that’s a silly reason. Why don’t we just give Austin away? I don’t like him anyway, he is noisy and no fun to play with. He can’t run and play like me and Drewy. And he took my princess room! Now I sleep in big brother’s room and he never lets me have the top bunk…
Is this what it’s all about: why we never got along? They took away my brand new, big girl, Minny Mouse, canopy bed. Said they put it away to keep it safe cause the baby needed my room. Aren’t I a good big sister for sharing? See how he repaid my generosity? A whack on the head with his hammer…
“Little brothers aren’t fun like big brothers.” I blurt out in a whisper voice.
“Well that’s just cause he is only a baby but someday he will be fun to play with.” he says. “I think the man is gonna leave soon so we better get back to bed.” Andrew tugs on my arm and we crawl back up a little noisier than we came. The voices get louder as the grown ups walk towards the door so we chase to the room faster. I giggle because it’s fun and he turns around to shush me again so I stick my tongue out. He smiles.
If someone told me to make a wish right then I would have wished for my pink princess room back to myself. If I were granted one now, I’d want that moment to last forever. I’d wish for the time when our childish innocence was untouched and our only obstacles included trying not to get caught eves dropping. Andrew and I are still closer than ever. He is getting married soon and that scares me but I’m so glad he is happy. Austin and I have more in common now, though we never got along growing up. I love my brothers and I hope we stay close forever.
When we are safely in the room he quietly closes the door but leaves enough space for his hand to fit, so the light from the bathroom comes in, just like Mommy does.
“G’night Sissy.” he says giving me a big hug.
“Night Bubba.” k
Monday, October 20, 2008
His...
It smelled like leather
Not the cheap kind
Good clean leather
It warmed me often
I loved to wrap it
Around my shoulders
His jacket, his smell
It wrote in bright red
Not too dark or light
Always just right
Like ripe tomatoes
I loved to steal it
Giggle, tease with it
His pen, his words
She sounded scary
It never lasted long
She kissed my cheek
And frolicked around
I loved stroking her fur
And playing tug-o-war
His dog, his heart
I feel all alone
Without him to hold
Missing his whispers
And gentle caresses
I hate that he’s gone
Perhaps never to return
Not his girl, not his love
another assignment for the poetry group im in.
Not the cheap kind
Good clean leather
It warmed me often
I loved to wrap it
Around my shoulders
His jacket, his smell
It wrote in bright red
Not too dark or light
Always just right
Like ripe tomatoes
I loved to steal it
Giggle, tease with it
His pen, his words
She sounded scary
It never lasted long
She kissed my cheek
And frolicked around
I loved stroking her fur
And playing tug-o-war
His dog, his heart
I feel all alone
Without him to hold
Missing his whispers
And gentle caresses
I hate that he’s gone
Perhaps never to return
Not his girl, not his love
another assignment for the poetry group im in.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Poetry Workshop: Picture Poetry
Forever Forgotten
I am Poppies in a field bleeding for those
Lost in battle long ago
Like an ancient tribe forever lost
Crying out to us
I am Mushroom clouds that cake the ground
With powdery flakes of ash
As The sun fades to a creeping
Shadow singeing flower petals
I am Pockets laced with ebony that
Drip with rainbow acid
Into the crimson river
Forever Forgotten...
I am Poppies in a field bleeding for those
Lost in battle long ago
Like an ancient tribe forever lost
Crying out to us
I am Mushroom clouds that cake the ground
With powdery flakes of ash
As The sun fades to a creeping
Shadow singeing flower petals
I am Pockets laced with ebony that
Drip with rainbow acid
Into the crimson river
Forever Forgotten...
Poetry Workshop: Love
My Love
I am a warm crackling fire on a cold winter's night.
I am hot chocolate with big puffy marshmallows
floating lazily in circles, the creamy mounds melting.
I am the sound of dead leaves crunching underfoot
on a blustery atumn day.
Warm,
fuzzy,
soft,
sweaters wrapped around me.
I am the color of a gleaming yellow flame
from a deep crimson candle.
I am a slow, lazy cat stretching and circling.
Stretching each inch of its body.
My Parents
I am the smell of tobacco and
perfumey deoderant close to my nose
I am a cinimon latte with
whip cream and sprinkles on top
I am a song for every
occassion and a trilling laughter
I am a crushing hug that
makes me cry, a giant boulder on my chest
I am the color of orangey
tomatoes in a big garden salad and
I move like the wind howling
over the flower pots outside my window
i wrote these at a poetry workshop/concert and read the first Love one for open mike :)
I am a warm crackling fire on a cold winter's night.
I am hot chocolate with big puffy marshmallows
floating lazily in circles, the creamy mounds melting.
I am the sound of dead leaves crunching underfoot
on a blustery atumn day.
Warm,
fuzzy,
soft,
sweaters wrapped around me.
I am the color of a gleaming yellow flame
from a deep crimson candle.
I am a slow, lazy cat stretching and circling.
Stretching each inch of its body.
My Parents
I am the smell of tobacco and
perfumey deoderant close to my nose
I am a cinimon latte with
whip cream and sprinkles on top
I am a song for every
occassion and a trilling laughter
I am a crushing hug that
makes me cry, a giant boulder on my chest
I am the color of orangey
tomatoes in a big garden salad and
I move like the wind howling
over the flower pots outside my window
i wrote these at a poetry workshop/concert and read the first Love one for open mike :)
A Cold
burning chill, blowing breeze
cracking hands, coughing wheeze
howling wind, hardened freeze
tender nose, timid sneeze
this weeks topic was cold...
cracking hands, coughing wheeze
howling wind, hardened freeze
tender nose, timid sneeze
this weeks topic was cold...
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Love Lines
there is one that forms the curve of your chin
my cold nose rubs up under it
there is one, a circle, in the depths of your eyes
mine gaze longingly into yours
there is one that curls your lips, caressing smile
my cheeks warm under your stare
there is one that stretches out to your sturdy hands
i lace my fingers through yours, sighing
there is one that connects your heart infinitely to mine
i hold on tight, never letting go
so i joined this new writing website that is totally bomb and the first poetry topic was lines.
my cold nose rubs up under it
there is one, a circle, in the depths of your eyes
mine gaze longingly into yours
there is one that curls your lips, caressing smile
my cheeks warm under your stare
there is one that stretches out to your sturdy hands
i lace my fingers through yours, sighing
there is one that connects your heart infinitely to mine
i hold on tight, never letting go
so i joined this new writing website that is totally bomb and the first poetry topic was lines.
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