School's Out

AN: I have (as Alaina calls it) Endofschoolitis that is affecting my brain so I am not in the mood to write or think about anything school related. So I'm going to write a poem about waiting for school to end...(Guess what?!! Next week is our last full week of school!!) <--see, I have to much to look forward to during the summer and at the end of May. I hope this poem doesn't bore you to death :)

Tick, Tick, Tick.
The clock counting down
the last minutes of the school year.
Tick, Tick, Tick

Not listening anymore,
to the teacher that is.
Tick, Tick, Tick 

Warm sand between
every child's feet.
Tick, Tick, Tick

The clock counting down
the last minutes of the school year.
Tick, Tick, Tick

Vacations galore
to Florida and Hawaii.
Tick, Tick, Tick

Daydreaming about
the summer days ahead.
Tick, Tick, Tick.

The clock counting down
the last minutes of the school year.
Tick, Tick, Tick


Tick, Tick, Tick, DING!
 

2nd response to the Truman Show

AN: Sorry this has taken so long, I've haven't really felt like writing so much this week. Probably because it's the first week back from break. So anyway here is a response that I had to make myself write. 

Everything is perfect, the sky, the sun, the grass. Even your life; nothing can go wrong. Your entire life you have lived in peace and harmony. This is what Truman's life was like in The Truman Show, everything was perfect for him except, he wasn't the one in control of his life.

On the inside the island that Truman lived on seemed just like a regular island. The people seemed like regular people. Everyday Truman would wake up buy a magazine, go to work, come home and go to bed. Nothing was irregular, it was the same routine everyday. This routine was made for him and he wasn't controlling it. Everything was created for Truman but he couldn't make the big decisions in life, like who he loved, what kind of job he wanted, and even things like where he wanted to live. These were chosen for him and he couldn't do anything about it.

Truman always wanted to be an explorer, but he couldn't do this because he was afraid of the ocean. This fear was made up, it wasn't true. The creators of Truman's world set up this fear so Truman would never leave and find out that his life was made up. In the end Truman conquered his fear, and went sailing.

If Life was Fake

AN: This is a poem about someone, like Truman, found out their entire life was fake and planned. It is my response to the Truman Show too. I had trouble thinking of topics to write about but I have decided to do this topic and in this format. I hope you enjoy it!

My life is a fake,
a fraud,
an act.

A secret my whole life,
a mystery,
a puzzle.
 
All my fears aren't real,
planned,
rehearsed.

Nothing is real,
not in this world,
not even the people.

I want to live,
a free life,
with the unexpected.

 I want a life,
with real people,
and places.

I want to live
a life that's mine,
and mine alone.

Watching

AN: This is my poem for our journal entry that we did today. I was in the mood to do poetry, and I came up with this. I wrote my journal entry as a paragraph first and then changed it into a poem. That seemed to help me come up with an idea for a poem. I hope you enjoy it!

Driving, Driving, Driving,

Down a long road

A road that only ends,

When you're unprepared.

Watching, Watching, Watching,

Out the window

When scenes from your past,

Start to show.

Driving, Driving, Driving,

Past the hospital,

A newborn's cry

Is carried on the breeze.

Watching, Watching, Watching,

A child and her family,

Eating in a park

In a yellow blanket.

Driving, Driving, Driving,

On the same road,

A road the never ends,

Reaching out till the horizon.

Watching, Watching, Watching,

An empty elementary,

A middle school

And high school too.

Driving, Driving, Driving,

Past a college,

And at last

A small cemetery.

Watching, Watching, Watching,

The shadows move,

But the road is ending

All to soon.

Beach

Author's Note:Here is a journal entry on a day at the beach. I haven't done a journal entry in awhile, so I'm going to try to refresh my memory by writing this one. I've been hoping that all this snow will melt and that it will get warmer, so these thoughts remind of going to the beach. I hope you enjoy my journal entry, please comment on it!


A soft breeze blows through your hair. The sun is bright against the pure blue sky; there are no clouds on this beautiful summer day. The sand under your feet feels like hot coals that were baked under the sun, but you welcome it. It takes your mind off of the long, cold days of winter. You feel like your feet are on fire and you run towards the water which will calm the burning on your feet. You jump in the ice cold water soothes the burning sensation and you relax, turn on your back looking at the sky, you float on top of the clear water, above the colorful fish and coral.

Prologue for Searching for Abe

Prologue

A man in a black suit was watching a young girl and boy walk around the allies of New York City, even though he was in Washington D.C.

“Sir? Have you found what you are looking for?” a timid man asked interrupting the man’s thought.

“Yes. Now leave.” The man said harshly.

“Uh. Yes sir, right away sir.” the timid man said as he walked away closing the door behind him.
The man looked into the glass ball and continued to stare and the two figures.

“Addison Hansen and Tyler Walker. What precious children. Oblivious to the world around them.”
He watched Addison and her younger brother sit down in a small cafe talking and drinking something that was probably lemonade. Tyler was across the street wandering the shops along the street. The two on separate paths not knowing that soon they would cross.

“You two are more special than you think. Much more special.” said the man, “Spike!”

“Yes sir?” the man named Spike answered. He was strong, big, and very intimidating.

“I want you to go and find these children, do not harm them, but find them and await your next orders.”

“Yes sir!”

Infinity Chamber!!!!

Author's Note: This is about the infinity chamber at the art museum. It was one of my favorite pieces and this poem is about what it felt like inside the chamber. If you missed seeing it hopefully this poem will give you an idea on what it was like.

Suddenly your weightless,
stepping out into the stars,
all around you.

Below you, next to you,
you are surrounded.
The light reflecting off your eyes.

Floating weightlessly in space,
the stars, never ending,
glow brightly against the dark sky.

Millions of stars,
all shining bright,
little specks in the sky.

A voice calls,
a door is opened.
Your journey into space is over, at least for now.