The Great Millow

Author's Note:
This a Dr. Seuss style poem that I wrote including references from my other Dr. Seuss poems and some of Dr. Seuss's as well.

If you've ever heard the tales

Of the planet named New Rillow

You've heard of Whos and Spronks and Quids

But how about a Millow?

Yes in deed a Millow is

The dumbest of them alright

But the only soul surviving Millow

Isn't leaving without a fight

He can punch a wherewolf

Straight from here to Mars

He can even beat a vampire

Across children monkey bars

He knows all about

Important stuff, unlike you or I

For he knows about philosophy

And this is not a lie

Da Vinci, some would call him

But that's just being modest

Cause this Millow knew about the Grinch

In the beginning of that August!

His power is so sought out

That he even knows Santa Clause

Mother Nature, Easter Bunny

And…dramatic pause

When the mean old Gleefs took over New Rillow

Do you know who they called?

Yes indeed, it was Mr. Millow

Who moved ten logs that needed hauled

No one really knows for sure

If New Rillow's even real

Though just go to the Great Millow

And see how that makes him feel

Adorable

Author's Note:
This is a poem that I wrote to sound like the song Cute by Stephen Jerzak.

If I received a nickel every time

I saw someone as pretty as you,

I would have all of five cents

And nothing to do

Could you go get me a Band-Aid?

And if you're wondering why

It's cause I've fallen in love

And I can't seem to fly

I think that there's something

Wrong with my cell phone

It doesn't have your number

So I can call you at home

Say could you grab my hand

If you wouldn't mind

Angels really exist

Is something that I'd find

When I ask you how you're doing

You always answer fine

I didn't ask you how you looked

In the way of my eyes

I might not have a library

Card on me

But can I still check you out

Or would that be mean?

So are you gonna kiss me

Or are you gonna make me lie

To everyone I know

With my diary in mind

Do you believe

In love at first sight

Or should I walk by again

I don't want to start a fight

Oh and your legs must be tired

From running through my dreams

I'm not making this up

It isn't one of my schemes

Every time I see you

You make my mouth hurt

Because you put my sweet tooth

On full alert

How much does a polar bear way,

Do you think?

Enough to break the ice

Or at least on the brink

I would walk on over to you

To ask about your fever

Oh sorry you just looked hot

To me, a true believer

I'm not trying to impress you

But in case you didn't know it

I am the one and only Batman

And I ain't afraid to show it

Where In The World

Author's Note:
This is a poem I wrote after thinking about this activity that we did in fourth or fifth grade called "Where in Wisconsin"

Where in the world

Are there scarves of bright colors

Taj Mahals in the plenty

And nothing is duller?

Where in the world

Can you find Notre Dame

The great Eifel Tower

And crepes all the same?

Where in the world

Is there a leaning tower

An old Coliseum

And a Caesar with power?

Where in the world

Is there a very great wall

Confucius religion

And few that are tall?

Where in the world

Is there loads of beer

Milk, Harleys, and cows

And too many deer?

I Knew It

Author's Note:
This is a haiku poem that I wrote about two people.  The first line is a friend and the second two are of a girl.

You two are so cute

Stop it, we are not dating

I'm not old enough

You should at least talk

We do, just not in public

But I wish we did

Say what's on your mind

To him? I am not that brave

I can't just tell him

But what if you did?

But what do you think he'd say?

He won't say it back

He might, never know

Fine, I will. Right now.  Maybe.

Breathe. Here I go. Breathe

Fingers crossed, good luck

Hey, um I sort of like you

He just responded

What did he say? Huh?

He said the he liked me too

That's great.  I knew it.

Stranded

Author's Note:
This is another short story that I wrote for my series.  

I scream and beg for mercy against the hot Sahara sun, for I was abandoned in the middle of this great desert.  They just left me; they threw me out and left me here to die.  No food, no water, no nothing except for the clothes on my back and a half melted Hershey bar in my pocket.  All I can think about are my parents and how they must be scared to death looking for me.  Oh and my boyfriend, Matt, who would always ask me the same question, "Do you have a BandAid?", and I would always reply, "Why?", when he would answer, "Because I just scraped my knee falling for you."  These memories of my loved ones race through my mind as I slowly fall asleep under the intensely burning sky.

Up in the Air

Author's Note:
This is yet another short story I wrote for my series.

Six hours, fifty nine minutes and seventeen seconds later, and I'm still not in Italy.  My family lives in San Francisco, California and we on our way to Italy for our saving-up-for-three-years-and-we-still-can't-even-buy-tee shirts-at-the-airport vacation.  I am really excited to see the Coliseum the Leaning Tower of Pisa and, most importantly, going shopping in Venice!  All four of us are really into museums, too, so we're probably going to go to a million of those.  My little brother and I start a conversation with the crazy lady sitting behind us, when we hear a POP.  This wasn't just a little pop like in a Rice-Krispies box, it was a like a clap of thunder POP!  The plane begins to shake and bump and twist and turn, but no one really knows what's going on.  Several flight attendants tell us to "remain calm", but how can we?  I begin to count, merely to calm me down from this stressful situation, but then I realize that I'm counting the seconds until I die.  Eight, nine, ten, eleven…my mind forces me to continue to count, thirty one, thirty two, thirty three…our plane begins to fall faster than I imagine it should be able to, fifty two, fifty three, fifty four…our plane is nearing the dark, ocean below us, four, three, two…I'm remembering all of my friends, family, and memories of my childhood.  One.

The Wardrobe

Author's Note:
This is another short story I wrote for my series of short stories.

My older sister and I were running through our new house, looking for cabinets or cupboards that would lead to Narnia.  We checked every single possible option for the portal, but we couldn't find it.  Then, we found a locked door to a room that we hadn't noticed before.  This particular door was, oh what's the word, peculiar.  It was different from the other doors, because it was older, and darker, and had a single bar dividing the top half from the bottom.  I stole my parents' new set of keys and tried to find the key to this particular door.   Once I found it I could not help but smile.  My sister plugged it into the door and turned it one and a half times around in the hole; there was a faint clicking sound after each quarter turn.  We walked into the room together, because we were both scared something might jump out at us, but there was nothing in this room except for a wardrobe.  The both of us meander our ways ahead to see what was inside.  Tip-tap-tip-tap-click-tap-tip were the only sounds I heard as we were walking.  Our old house had a wardrobe, too, but it was very hard to open, but this wardrobe was as easy as pie to open.  To our disappointment, there wasn't a single object inside it!  Inside, the wardrobe looked larger than the outside, so we walked straight into it.  As soon as we did, the door to the room slammed and locked itself shut, as did the wardrobe doors.   We were trapped.

The Light

Author's Note:
I am writing a series of short stories and this is one of them.  

Every night, when I say my prayers, I stare blankly out the window.  I see apartments, skyscrapers, and a lamppost that never seems to be on.  Though tonight was different; the light in the post was on, but I hadn't the slightest clue why.  Downstairs, the switch is on the off half of the plate, but the light is still on.  My feet walk on the damp grass as I make my way to the lamp post.  Tonight was really dark and I couldn't totally see where I was going, but I knew my way around pretty well.  As I reached the lamppost, I tried to find the switch to turn it off.  I tried pushing it, tapping it, heck I even tried kicking it, but it wouldn't turn off!  Cars drive by and I hear horns, whistles, and then suddenly almost a breathing sound.  Once I've convinced myself that I am being ridiculous, I hear it again; and again, and again.  A shadow appears from the building across the street and a man walks out.  He's walking straight toward me, yet still looking the other direction.  His pockets look like there is a mirror or a bell in them, but it was neither.  It was a gun.  My mouth begins to scream as he turns around and…BANG.

Really Couldn't Care

Author's Note:

This is a poem describing how people shouldn't care when things are a little "messy".

If Christmas never came

Or if you got asked out on a dare

If you still said yes

You really shouldn't care

If laundry just kept coming

Or you have some messed up hair

If the sun kept itself hidden

You really shouldn't care

If you wrecked your favorite shoes

Or thought something wasn't fair

If the weather was horrific

You really shouldn't care

Some things might just happen

Where you did not arrange it

But I mean ask yourself this question,

What would you do to change it

Sprink

The land of Sprink

Is a far away land

Where nuggers lay eegs

In every color but tan

Each Spronk in the Sprink

Is really quite nice

They're puffy and kind

Like sugar and spice

All Spronks have a pet

Either a walloo or a quat

They play shamball as a sport

With a single Sprink-bat

They all enjoy ice-cream

With syrups and toppings

Sprink-sprinkles and chips

And chocolate boppings

You might have heard

Of Sprink's sister town

You might have read it in a book

Backwards or upside down

In this sister city

Lots of things are blue

Where Grinches are real

To all of the Whos

They are really good friends

The Spronks and the Whos

Oh and you might met their friend

Bug-A-Boo

It Could Be Worse

Author's Note:
This is a poem that (I hope) makes you think of when you think you life is just "awful", but it could be worse.

It could be worse

If you didn't have money

Or house to sleep in

It could be worse

If you lost a grandparent

Or a mother or father

It could be worse

If you had one pair of socks

Or no clothes at all

It could be worse

If you didn't have ice cream

Or food for that matter

It could be worse

If you had one single friend

Or no friends at all

It could be worse

If you lost your job

Or never had one

It could be worse

If you saw bad news on the TV

Even worse if it was you

Oh No

Author's Note:

This is a poem describing how people shouldn't care when things are a little "messy".

If Christmas never came

Or if you got asked out on a dare

If you still said yes

You really shouldn't care

If laundry just kept coming

Or you have some messed up hair

If the sun kept itself hidden

You really shouldn't care

If you wrecked your favorite shoes

Or thought something wasn't fair

If the weather was horrific

You really shouldn't care

Some things might just happen

Where you did not arrange it

But I mean ask yourself this question,

What would you do to change it

America

You now you're in America when...

A single stick of gum
Will get you a thousand friends
When people don't like patience
And never ever bend

When people go online
Just to look up funny cats
When a football's made with leather
And we play with baseball bats

In a race between an ambulance
And pizza delivery truck
The pizza man will win the race
Without any source of luck

When each and every year
We have all sorts of holidays
Where we dress up like little monsters
And wear green for a whole day

When you see fast food at every corner
And everything is made in China
When people still talk Southern
And eat at little dinna's

Alphabet

Author's Note:
This is an acrostic poem I wrote using the alphabet. 

Amazing how we can look at someone and fall in love
Be proud to be yourself
Crazy how we can grow in a day
Don't be afraid to fall
Everyday is a gift, that's why it's called the present
For every good deed, a smile appears on someone's face
Go out into your world and create your life
Happy always is better than sad
It is alright to change for the better, not worse
Jolly old men check their lists so remember to be nice
Kindness will brighten lives
Live, love, dance
Many people have tried to change the world
No one can change the past
One life.  That's all we get
Practice makes perfect
Quiet
Rain, rain go away
Silver linings will shine through
Teach, preach, learn
Umbrellas of shelter need to be removed before you can live
Very well, live life as you may
Wishes can come true
Xamine all of your possibilities
You are in charge of you own life

Zealous behavior will be rewarded

Thunder Storm

Each drop is like a sad tear
A tear from a cloud
Falling slow

Every clap is like a loud drum
A drum from God
Beating steady

Every jolt is like a spotlight
A spotlight on stage
Shining bright

My Chair

Author's Note:

This is a series of haiku poems that I wrote from the perspective of someone in a wheelchair.  I am focusing on formatting.

I can't walk or run

But I'm not immobilized

I sit on my throne

The turning wheels turn

The world around me stands still

As do my two legs

I am not broken

But I do not have a use

Where does that leave me?

I can't stand up straight

Though I can glide under things

Better than nothing

This is how I am

I can never change facts

So I embrace life

I see kids running

And I decide to join in

Though I cannot run

I'm turning my wheels

Fast, faster and faster and

I pass everyone

This is how I roll

How Would You Explain It

Author's Note:

This is from the quote on Mr. Johnson's old wall, "How do you explain color to someone who can only see in black and white?"

You can see rainbows

And sunshine and bees

But how would you explain

Color to me?

You can see paintings

And drawings and trees

But how would you explain

Color to me?

You can see styles

And movements and seas

But how would you explain

Color to me?

You can see oranges

Red, yellow and greens

But how would you explain

Color to me?

You can see life

And all that we find

But how would you explain it

To someone who's blind?

My Life

Author's Note:

This is a poem that I wrote while I was sick and just happened to think about AIDS.  I wrote it from the perspective of a teenager who is afraid to tell people he/she has AIDS.  I am focusing on formatting.

Everyday

I wake up not knowing

If I will make it to tomorrow

Everyday

I feel like an escaped criminal

Being hunted by the law

Everyday

I wonder what I look like

As my heart and soul are dying

Everyday

I live like nothing's wrong

For no one knows my secret

Everyday

I am ashamed of the thing

That I must hide from my friends

Everyday

I hope for the courage

To beg for their empathy

Everyday

I tell myself that this is who I am

Not who I want to be

Everyday

I go through living as though I was normal;

As though I didn't have

AIDS

Evil Spirits

Creatures of the night

Demonic ghosts

Invisible shadows

Unknown to most

Lurking through doorways

Defying split space

Not a guardian angel

Like a killer and mace

Expansion of souls

Not a string of good conscious

With such a strong will

Able to move mountains

Deal With It

Life will give you lemons
And you might hate lemonade
Conformity will kill you
But we do it anyway

And there may just be that one girl
Who flirts with all the boys
And you might just want to punch her
Cause you truly are annoyed

 Now face the facts, cause here they are
You may just look that way
But baby you are cool enough
To fight back at these days

Everyone is beautiful
We just don't know it yet
So stretch your brain and you'll go far
When in that calm mind set

Too tall or short or blonde or dumb
We all have little quirks
If you ever get made fun of
Then shoot back a silent smirk

If you can't play or dance or run
Trust you'll be fine
And if you still don't believe me
Then give it a little time

I can see your future
Here in my crystal ball
Yes you'll grow out of being short
And end up six feet tall

Not everybody comes from money
So don't laugh at what they wear
Don't gossip 'bout the new girl
And never point or stare

Would you change your wardrobe
If brown bags were the new fashion
Would you go trapsing off to London
If if was someone else's passion?

This Ain't Your Dream

Author's Note:
This is a "chant" that people can say to themselves, or someone else, that I, and the other Student Council members, learned at a leadership conference.  It makes you feel better if you say it with a southern accent.


I am somebody special
If you don't like me, TOUGH
Cuz I am cool enough,
Smooth enough
And doggone it! 
I am hot enough
To be who I want to be!

Life of Pi Essay

Author's Note:
This is my essay based off the book, Life of Pi.  I am focusing on organization.

What would it feel like to spend 227 days fifteen feet away from a Bengal tiger?  What if it was the two of you, in a lifeboat, in the middle of the ocean?  Young Piscine Patel survived this journey told in Life of Pi. He encountered man-eating trees, a blind man, and the occasional meerkat.  After nearly starving, nearly dying, and have nearly been eaten, Pi’s safe landing was documented in Part III.  Pi was interviewed by two Chinese men, who were writing the police report of what happened to the Tsimtsum, during Part III.  Pi told two stories of what happened after the ship sank, but once the Chinese heard both stories, they chose to write the animal version in the report, why? 

During the interview Pi retold the entire story, with and without animals, but both ended the same way; Pi was in a lifeboat with a few other creatures and he was the only one that lived.  Only the second story had a more gruesome, detailed storyline that was did not appeal to the interviewers.  While they did not care for the original, animalistic version of the story, that was the one the interviewers wrote in the report.

The report consisted of many interesting developments that, for me, were "a ha" moments.  One of them being the sentence, "Survivor's assessment of weather impressionistic and unreliable." however they continued to use Pi's assessments of other factors later in the report.  I figured the Chinese men had made a mistake, but then thought that they were picking and choosing parts out of both of Pi’s stories.  Another example is the very last sentence, "Very few castaways can claim to have survived so long at sea as Mr. Patel, and none in the company of an adult Bengal tiger." which means Mr. Okamoto and Mr. Chiba cited the animal story, not the more realistic one.  

Pi’s journey would be believed unrealistic to some, but never fear he has another story up his sleeve.  His two stories might have stirred up strong feelings from the Chinese, each told of what happened after the ship sank.  During this eye opening experience, however, he lost his family, his life, and his zoo. Realistic or fiction, in the end of, Life of Pi, Pi ended up stronger, self enlightened, and with a great story to tell.  

                                                                                                                                     

Four animals, three dead, two stories, one lifeboat. 

Hello

A simple greeting

Or something more

It's like saying good night

Or rapping on a door

Some other ways are

Hey, hi, hows it going

To respond is the way

Of go with the flowing

If you say good day

Then people go wow

So just say hello

And say it right...now!

Never

Author's Note:

This is a poem I wrote after watching an episode of Bones on Fox.  I am focusing on organization.

Never love for money

Only love

Who you want

Never trust for friendship

Only trust

Whom you wish

Never take what is not yours

Only care

Who truly needs it

Never die with regrets

Only know

You live once

Between Them

Author's Note:

This is a poem that I thought of after I finished trying to convince two of my friends that they are in LOVE with each other.  I am focusing on voice.

They create the more heat than friction

And more love than Juliet

There is something strong between them

That's still getting better yet

They won't explain it to one and other

They say because of the great "risk"

Though they talk for hours everyday

Stirring feelings faster than a whisk

Most people will never feel this way

So it's a shame their putting it to waste

When I try to think about it

I start to taste a bitter taste

When they look at each others eyes

It isn't colors that they see

They could might as well be color blind

Or blind of love if you ask me

They know what the other eats

For  all three meals of every day

When one of them would talk

The other hangs on every word they'd say

They are just so cute together

You'd dream for a relationship like this

If they're never gonna admit it

It's their own future they're gonna miss

Attitude

Author's Note:

This is a poem I wrote after I heard someone say attitude is everything like six times in a day.

Attitude is everything

We all hear them say

Attitude is everything

During every single day

Attitude is everything

That couldn't be more true

Attitude is everything

To me, but how 'bout you

Attitude is everything

When talking to your friends

Attitude is everything

Until the world would end

Snow

Author's Note:
This is a poem that I wrote during the very first snowfall of the 2011-12 winter.

It finally is snowing

It is such a pretty sight

I couldn't ask for any more

If I prayed with all my might

It creates a soft, white blanket

On top of the whole city

To the states that don't get snow

It truly is a pity

You can do so much with it

Like make big snow figures

Though for people who are taller

They will be even bigger!

Creation

Author's Note:

This is a poem I wrote, not specifically about God, that explains creation. I am focusing on creativity and voice.

Trees grew

Grass spread

Someone up there smiled

Planets formed

Rocks shifted

Our creator was quite pleased

Oceans widened

Rivers flowed

The higher power beamed

Animals multiplied

People flourished

The makers were at ease

Interview Response

Author's Note:

This is my response to "the idea of a religious boy in a lifeboat with a wild animal struck me as a perfect metaphor for the human condition. Humans aspire to really high things, right, like religion, justice, democracy. At the same time, we're rooted in our human, animal condition. And so, all of those brought together in a lifeboat struck me as being... as a perfect metaphor.".

I find that this statement couldn't be more wrong.  I do not believe that his examples of high things are valid.  Religion and democracy are our beliefs than do not often change, forcing us to stay the same.  Staying the same for your entire life is a very easy task that I do not find to be a "highly thing".  On the other hand, justice is something that we can strive for our whole lives and never achieve, thus a higher thought. 

In the book, I do not think that it explains Pi's animal condition very well.  The tiger, orangutan, zebra and hyena exhibit strong animal instincts, but Pi doesn't.   Pi stays, mostly, a holy, kind, worried, sixteen year old boy that doesn't really turn animalistic.  Also, how did the author think of the lifeboat?  He doesn't explain how he thought of that and I honestly do not get it.  Overall, I did not find the story to be a perfect metaphor for the human condition.