I am Myself.

I am myself.

Every imperfection, every flaw

Every sad day, every broken law

All the homework I forgot

All the time that I have lost

All the things I've never done

All the hearts that I have won

All the regrets that I have given

All the sadness lying within

All the things I want to be

All the places I want to see

All the hopes and dreams I've dreamt

All the compliments I meant

All the stories I have told

All the wise words from the old

All the words I didn't mean

But I know that I have said

All the promises I've broke

I'll have to with til I'm dead

Food.

Author's Note:

This is a poem that I wrote when I was STARVING one day. 

Food is really good

You should try food

It can pick you up

When you're in a bad mood

There's fruits and veggies

And milk and juice

Food is like a gift from god

Wait not god, Zeus

I really like food as well

I like pie and rice and chips

I really like fondue

But hate when people, double dip

And just remember this

Skinny kids are easier to kidnap

So eat food.

And that's a wrap!

Life Lessons

Author's Note:
This is a poem that I wrote putting different life lessons in alphabetical order.

Afternoons are great, for drinking tea and eating scones

Before dinner you should wash your hands, scrub them til you feel your bones

Caffeine should not be drunk after the time of six o' clock

Down under the table is where you keep your feet and your socks

Every time you start a meal, remember to say your prayers

From here on out, we do this now, to show others that we care

Guests are welcome to all the food, so do not hog it all

Help your mother in the kitchen, for your mother is quite small

I think you need to clean the floor, where you spilt your milk

Juice is harder to clean up, but never clean with silk

Keep your mouth clean in words, when talking to your grandma

Let me teach you this now, so that you are good for Santa

Mothers are here to help you on, but not do it all for you

Nagging, teasing, bragging, teaching isn't here to bore you

Other than that, you should be fine, without going insane

Put on your coat and gloves and hat when going out into the rain

Quiet is the best stress reliever

Ready, set, listen to Justin Bieber

So listen close and be your best

To be kind to friends, and all the rest

Um, I think that covers it

Very good, now don't forget

Wash, and bathe, and clean, and listen

X-rays aren't good for your vision

You read this close and don't forget, don't let

Zealousness get into your head

The Way I See It

Author's Note: 
This is my To Kill a Mockingbird essay.  I chose to write a point of view piece on if Mr. Ewell was narrating the trial scene.  I wanted to show the reader that, I believed, Mr. Ewell was irritated and uncomfortable at the trial, and how he thought Tom should have just been put on death row.  I've never really done anything like this and want comments.  I am focusing on word choice and voice.

I still don' get why this even has to go to trial.  I knows that that [negro] attacked my Mayberry, oops I mean Mayella, and I want him gone.  That Mr. sheriff man, Mr. Tate, is up on the stand testifyin'  while that [negro] could already be halfway to death row right now.  And Atticus Finch.  With his combed hair and his chillun runnin' around like crazy people.  He's the lowest any man can get.  That [negro] attacked my daughter and he's up there tryin' to save his [butt] from the chair.  Atticus is gonna get it if it's the last thing I do.  Margret deserves, I mean Mayella deserves, some justice from this court and that [negro] oughta pay.  I never once laid a finger on Molly and she knows that, wait I meant Mayella.  Oh great now that won ton of a officer is done preachin' bout all the little details of the crime. 

My turn.

"Mr. Robert Ewell.? Mr. Gilmer ask me.

"That's m'name cap'n." I assured.

"Are you the father  of Mayella Ewell?" That rug haired man just asked me another stupid question.

"Well, if I ain't I can't do nothin' about it now, her ma's dead." I joked.

He stopped. "Are you the father of Mayella Ewell?"

"Yes sir." knowing that he didn't get the joke.

Judge Taylor then tol' me to just answer questions from here on out.  I went on and on talkin' bout that Robinson and how I saws him attackin my daughter. I tol' him the time, what I's saw, even what I did to the [negro].  I even tol' him where I was when I saw that [negro] attack her!  Then that Mr. Atticus came about questionin' me about the same [dang] things!  He went on to asks me bout why I didn't take Mayella to a doct'r.  I knew she was hurt, why'd she need a doct'r?  Then I went back to answerin' the same questions Mr. Tate already told that Mr. Finch.  I agreed with what he said and then I wanted to leave.  Atticus asked me if I's could rea' 'n write. 

"I most positively can."

"Will you write your name and show us?" Atticus questioned.

I wrote my name down, ni' and neat and every-thang. 

"You're left handed, Mr. Ewell." The Judge wondered.

Atticus, "Are you ambidextrous, Mr. Ewell?"

"I most positively am not, I can use one hand as good as the other.  One hand good as the other."

With that statement I could go back to my seat.

They call' up Mable to the stand, I mean Mayella to the stand, and begins askin' 'er all the questions they's already asked me and Mr. Tate.   When Atticus started askin' 'er crazy thangs like if she loved me or not, is when it started to get t'me. I got red in the face a lil more with e'ry question.   He asked her, " ..is he easy to get along with?"

"He does tolerable 'cept when--"  [Dang] it now she' gon' get it when we get back home.

"Except when?" I got all strange feelin' and sat up right straight in my chair.  I stared down Madeline until, I mean Mayella until, she knews I was glarin' right at her.

"I said he does tolerable" Good ol' May--er--ella! 

[Dang] it! Did that prissy little la'yer just ask my daughter if I's ever hit'r? I never lay a finger on any my chillun! …I don't think so…

The trial continued 'til they finally convicted that son of a [witch] and I was 'llowed to go home.

Clichély Happy

Some days we wonder

About the things

The things where people

Might do bad things

Why would you hurt others

Why would you commit a crime

I never really knew the answer

But I think about it all the time

Does God love those

Whom murder others

Do families love sons

Who hurt their mothers

But then we think

Why even do it

Why do bad things

I wish I knew it

So on days that you

Feel like hurting peers

Focus on the positives

Not on other's sneers

And every time you want to frown

Turn your lips, upside down

For life isn't meant to be sappy

It's about showing that you are happy

Imagine?

My teacher told me to imagine

All the possibilities

So I tried to run and hop and jump

But I lacked stability

Then I tried to be creative

Just like an engineer

But then I failed, I could not build

I was technologically queer

But wait, I tried to draw a horse

And become the next Picasso

But I quit that for body building

Because I thought that I was macho

Next I tried to shoot a gun

But I can't hit the broad side of a barn

Then I tried to make a skirt

Out of thread, a needle, and some yarn

 After that I tried out firefighting

But that was a dud too

Then I was going to be a lawyer

But felt bad when I sued

Well maybe I don't know what to be

In twenty years from now

I might travel to New York City

I'd be the next, new girl in town

The Day I

The day I went for a walk

The day I didn't want to talk

The day I ate some Chinese wok

The day I saw a huge geese flock

The day I gave away a cake

The day I bought some bread, fresh baked

The day I sold an Easy Bake

The day I felt an earthquake

The day I picked up all my trash

The day I got in a car crash

The day I my socks did not match

The day I felt a jump rope's whiplash

The day I finished all my chores

The day I counted up to four

The day I went knocking on a door

But surprisingly, I was still bored.

Chris Brown

People just might ask me

Who is my favorite singer

Well right and true, and near and dear

Chris Brown would be the winner

I love his songs, I love his voice

I love his musically, graceful noise

I loved him when he sang great songs

Songs with purpose, songs with rhymes

Not songs with rapping, songs with vulgar

What he's singing in these times

I loved him for his dancing

The way his feet could glide

The way he could turn on his toes

And jerk from side to side

And what people do not know

Is that, while he made some bad decisions

He is an amazing artist

Who hits notes with perfect precision

And to whom it may, or not, concern

Here is the whole entire truth

My favorite Chris Brown song

Would have to be With you

What Story is this?

 Author's Note:

For my point of view piece for To Kill a Mockingbird, I decided to pick a character from a different novel.  I wrote it  from the point of view of Draco Malfoy (from Harry Potter) if he were to be Boo Radley.  I rewrote the scene when Jem lost his pants sneaking onto the Radley property.

"Bloody, little muggles!" Draco shrieked.  Jem, Scout, and Dill heard this cry and rapidly left the Radley residence.  They made it all the way to the gate before whom they believed to be Boo scream again, "Stupefy!" Immediately after Scout and Dill had made it under and out of the gate, Jem was magically stuck.  Dill tugged on his shirt and pulled his sleeves, but only managed to get a half clothed Jem out from under the fence.  Draco could not risk being seen and stayed within the safety of his home, but quickly stepped out to grab Jem's torn pants.  He brought them inside and placed a mending charm on them, which sewed up the gaps that were now inflicted on the legs. 

"Reparo" Whispered Draco as he instinctively began laughing at the scared children running down the street.

Created

I created buildings

I created flags

I created pillars

And custom made bags

I created mountains

I created seas

I created sculptures

One of you and one of me

I created stones

I created walls

I created stores

And a huge shopping mall

I created it all

Without any hassle

Maybe you'd enjoy

My new made sand castle

Young Love

Author's Note:
This is the passage that I remember when I think of To Kill a Mockingbird.

He had asked me earlier int he summer to marry him, then he promptly forgot about it. He staked me out, marked as his property and said I was the only girl he would ever love, then he neglected me. (pg. 41)

This passage is important to me because, I think, that it shows humor in a book that is mostly serious and mature.

Concrete

I went to take a walk one day

Just like any other

I made sure to leave a note

For my dad, mom and my brother

I tied my shoes

And did my hair

And ran outside

To get fresh air

I walked and ran

And skipped and jogged

I believe I ran

Faster than a dog

Then I slipped

I missed the floor

And knew

I would not be running anymore

For what happened

I fell on my seat

This is why I hate

Concrete.

Toes

Everyday I look down at the ground

Everyday I see my feet

Everyday I wonder why

Toes are looking up at me

Do they have eyes

That I put in my shoes

You'd be sad

If that was you

Do they have ears

To hear every word

Can they hear music

Or listen to birds

Do they have noses

Can they smell our socks

That could be delightful

But probably not

Do they have mouths

And taste our feet sweat

How would you like

A shoe as a bed

Are they feet fingers

Fingers for feet

I really don't care,

But why, why do they have to stare

At me?

Click

I see signs that say to buckle up

Signs that we could never miss

But I guess I'd do it anyway

Buckle up. Click.

I hear people say that it's the law

Just like gravity

And if they don't, people die,

It is sad you see

Though who would not?

Who could not pull down a simple sash

It seems like fun, even cool

Until you get in a car crash

Driving wheels, break pedals

A hand held driving stick

They're all there for a reason

So buckle up. Click.

Skipped

I skipped my way to the market

I skipped my way through school

I skipped my way on down my street

Making sure that I looked cool

I skipped my way across the town

I skipped my way to restaurants

I skipped my way to Tel Aviv

And even under elephants

I skipped my way into my shoes

I skipped my way around the block

I skipped my write through the tick

On my old broken clock

I skipped my way through lots of things

Whenever life would give me hope

But my favorite time I've ever skipped

Was in a good game of jump rope

Do You Love Me?

You kiss me on the cheek

And you tell me I look great

You pick me up, when I am sad

And you take me out on dates

You are always there to catch

Just in case I might just fall

You are there to make me laugh

And make a big joke of it all

You always make sure of

That I am never blue

And if you ever left me

I would never stop missing you

You are my favorite person

'cause you are there when I cry

I know that you'll be with me

From now until I die

If we went on a vacation

You would take me over seas

And for this I know I love you

But I wonder, do you love me?

One Love

Two men shared one thing

But one thing so great

They shared the love of one woman

Which created hate

The woman so shy,

Could not risk breaking one's heart

So she devised a cruel? plan

And thought she was so smart

She knew she could not test their love

Or make them run a race

She thought that she could pick 'the one'

By one kiss on her face

Now you also have to know

That these two men loved her so

And she loved each of them the same

Every day from high to low

But once the men found out

That the girl was going to decide

They immediately thought

That she would test their pride

So they dueled and lanced

And dressed in armor

And even raised cattle

Just like a farmer

They tried to impress her

Then came a strange twist

That neither of them one

For the girl wanted the kiss

So she stood in the square

In the middle of town

And shouted her voice

And made sure she was loud

She said these exact words:

"Every man, every knight

Every king within this distance

Every brave fighter, every lover

Every kind man that's in existence,

Please step forward, make a line

Stand right in front of me so

Please listen to my story

That I wish to be told

I beckoned for a kiss

From my two very princes

But they both failed to deliver

And made themselves look like stinces

So I need to find another

One who can make me feel so

In love with just one touch

From the mouth on one I know"

Then many a far

Took their place in line

And wanted a chance

With the woman so fine

But one of her lovers

Who heard this great sadness

Decided what she was doing

Was complete madness

So he created his own plan

And put on a disguise

So to the woman he wanted

He would not be recognized

When it was his turn to kiss her

She stood back in shock

And knew that her time out of love

Was over on her clock

Then she stood up and said

"we have a winner"

And he politely invited

Her over for dinner

Then he unveiled his true self

And startled the girl

And at that precise moment

Their two lives made one world

Silent

What would it be like

To be deaf, mute and blind

It being quite horrid

Is something you'd find

You cannot hear, for then

You cannot speak, you cannot listen

You cannot interact

You cannot converse through sounds

You cannot hear, and that's a fact

You cannot see, for then

You cannot watch, you cannot view

You cannot see the world through color

You cannot even know what white is

And black will make it duller

You cannot talk, for then

You cannot speak, you cannot sing

You cannot share a simple tune

You cannot welcome back a soldier

You has not been gone for far too soon

So then back to the first question

Exactly how do you learn

With discipline and toughness

And cruel teachers being stern

You have to fight just to be normal

You have to fight just to get weller

And one famous figure, that we know

Who has done this--Helen Keller

There Once...

There once was a prince

Who was very quite kind

And he married a princess

With no more than a dime

He had lots to give her

But she had none in return

Though their relationship grew

Even with parents so stern

Then after a while

The flame would die down

And everyone knew it

All over the town

The only one who did not

Was the quite kind young prince

Who hasn't a clue, he hasn't a clue

What to do, what to do

Now the princess so grateful

Did not want to hurt his feelings

And she knew her decision

Would send the prince reeling

So she decided to wait

To the precise minute

To tell him it's over,

The couple was finished

Though then she grew shy

And did not wish to do it

So she stayed right by his side

While her heart was in ruins

The two grew old and older then

And the prince was in love

But the princess was not, with him

Then one day the prince died

And the girl was in fret

For now, for sure, she would die

With regret...

Movie Theater

Author's note:
This is a paragraph that I wrote using syntactical patterns.

Crunchy pop-corn, watery soda, and moist pretzels: doesn't this sound inviting?  Except from the actual viewing of the movie, I highly detest the atmosphere of most movie theaters.  They remind me of a gross, sticky bathroom from Skateland.  Movie theaters don't clean the floors; they don't Febreze the air; and they don't care about childhood obesity (have you tasted their food?).  Overall, I believe that minor changes could make movie theaters great, but because theaters are such a big industry, they feel these changes are unnecessary.

The Numbers

Author's Note:

This is a poem I wrote after listening to my iPod and realized that a lot of songs had numbers of seconds, minutes, days, etc in them. 

I hear songs with all the numbers

In a day, a month a year

But I've always wondered why

Is time something to fear?

But really what's the point

Of all the seconds in a day

Or the minutes in a month

Or the time it takes to say

Something, one thing, special

To that certain someone

But why do we measure

Time it takes, for someone to be won

Love cannot be  measured
By all the minutes in the world

A heart cannot be clocked

Between one boy and a girl

Eighty six four hundred

Seconds in a day

Five hundred twenty five thousand

Six hundred minutes

To say

A Window.

Author's Note:

This is a poem that I wrote using a window (from my word association) and how it feels to look out one.  I am focusing on formatting and would really like comments. 

As I look out a window,

I see everything.

Everything in the world…except me.

I like that feeling of being on the outside

Looking in.

When I look out a window,

I am in control.

I know that I can exhale and it will all

Disappear.

It will all turn into a blog of smoke

Dust, nothing…

I can sit there knowing there is always

Something,

Separating me from the rest of the world.

Rain. Fog. Dust. Space.

Everything.

But me.

You cannot make a mistake in front of

A window.

If you wanted,

You could sit there forever watching other

People.

It gives you that feeling of nothingness.

That feeling of relaxation.

No chance of failure.

No chance of falling.

You are safe--guaranteed.

You? A soup? You chew? Your soup?

 Author's Note:

This is a poem that I wrote that I tried to write in the style of Dr. Suess.  I am focusing on voice and would prefer comments.

I met a very strange man one day

Just walking through the streets

He said hello and I replied

I love the people that I can meet

We stopped to chat

And grabbed some lunch

We ate and ate

Munch, munch, munch, munch

I called for a soda and some fries

The waitress took notes, then calmly replied

"What would you like?" to my dear new friend

And what he said, I will never forget

I would like a bottle of ham, with no turkey, indeed!

And some crumpets or bagels, whichever you please!

Also, homemade chicken noodle soup

And a fork! A fork! I need to chew!

You? A soup? You chew? Your soup?

Then he just sat there,

befuddling looking

Straight at the waitress and what she was cooking

I couldn't believe it!

Him? A soup? He chews? His soup?

In the city of Wallow,

We never do that

For we all eat neatly

With two forks and a hat

He's straight out of Lynwood!

I can feel it for certain!

For no one from here

Would eat so in splurged in!

Then I glanced and stared

And I couldn't believe it! What did I see?

Are you sure you believe me?

To my wandering eyes did appear

No not Christmas, no mints or wreaths

But what I did notice,

Was this man had no teeth.

Author's Note:
This is what I imagined Nathaniel from Mindblind would seem like if he walked into the room right now.

He would walk in unnoticed to most, but catch the eye of onlookers.  He is good looking and is quoted as "a cross between Alex Pettyfer and Lucas Till.".  Nathaniel is over six feet tall, but his modesty balances out his height.  If you try to talk to him, he might come off a little awkward, because he has Asberger's, but is a very kind person.  His intellect might make you jealous and you will have the urge to insult him.  Nathaniel has good manners and will always thank you for everything.  His odor is minimal because he showers frequently (about 3 times a day), unless he just came from the bowling alley, in which he would smell like sweaty shoes.  While he seems like a dream bachelor, he does have flaws. A first is that he really is awkward and hates being in a crowded room.  He is naturally unable to communicate 'regularly' with others around him.  He can go from being fine to not fine in seconds and has very sudden meltdowns. Also, he doesn't always catch sarcasm and is easily offended. Overall, he would most likely be a shy, quiet, regular looking boy if he walked into our room.

I Love my School

Author's Note:

This is a poem that was inspired by Dr. Seuss's Lost Poem. It's not really true, but it all rhymes. I am focusing on word choice.

I love my school, from now to May

I love it more and more each day

I love my teachers, they're the best

I love my friends and all the rest

I love my locker (it's location)

I really hate summer vacation

I love my classes, drab and gray

I love it more and more each day

I love my desk just like a cell

There's nothing else I love so well

I love to work among my peers

I love their leers and jeers and sneers

I love my computer and it's software

When it breaks, it's just not fair

I love each program, every file

I try to get once in a while

I happy to be there, I am. I am.

I'm the happiest slave of Uncle Sam.

I love this work. I love this chore.

I love the daily, constant bore.

I love my school- I'll say it again

And every email I must send

And if you ask, I am quite cool

Because I love, love, love my school

Airless

Author's Note:

This is a poem that's supposed to be descriptive of what it feels like to tumble--i.e. cartwheeling, round-offing, handspringing, back flipping, and so on.

Starting, standing

Waiting, balancing

Stepping, jogging

Running, sprinting

Speeding, accelerating

Jumping, pouncing

Empowering, springing

Lifting, swaying

Diving, rolling

Bending, pulling

Flipping, turning

Pushing, flying

Soaring, gliding

Closing, flooring

Landing, stopping

Ending, standing

Who Could Resist?

Author's Note:
This is my essay for the Novel Speak. I chose to write a character analysis of Andy Evans.

What if you were surrounded by a bomb, just waiting to go off, every second of your life?  How would it feel to never know if you were going to be the next victim?  In the novel, Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson, a senior named Andy Evans was very similar to a bomb.  He caused pain in people's lives and never stood up and took responsibility for it.  His character is introduced as being narcissistic, good looking and perverted, and this lethal combination is exactly why he can cause so much damage; no one ever sees him coming.

There are three stages of a bomb, the first is initial damage--hurt from the explosion.  The first stage of Andy Evans is the initial hurt of him attacking the girls.  He preys on younger classmen and knows that they won't stop him.  At the party referenced in Speak, he took advantage of Melinda when she was drunk and she didn't know what she had gotten herself into.  Once Melinda started her bathroom stall of stories about Andy, she realized just how many people he had gotten to.  His affect on all these girls are just the start of Andy's damage.

The second stage of a bomb is future damage--cancer, radiation exposure and so forth.  Andy's second stage is also future hurt because his victims never seem to tell anyone what he did.  Melinda was unable to communicate to anyone what Andy did to her, and calling the police got her shunned from the rest of her school.  This sudden confusion after his attacks can create problems in his victim's lives, creating his second stage of hurt.

The third stage of a bomb is potential damage--contaminating others, genetic disorders if passed down, and unknown radiation spots.  Andy's third stage is, again, potential hurt because no girl wants to accept that he can do all these acts with other girls, and fall into his trap.  His looks, charm, and constant change make him the perfect crush for any girl, but after you fall into his trap, you cannot get out.  The bathroom stall got remarks such as "Guys to Stay Away From: Andy Evans" "He's a creep." "Stay away!!!!!" "He should be locked up." "He thinks he's all that." "Call the cops." "What's the name of that drug they give perverts so they can't get it up?" " I went out with him to the movies - he tried to get his hands down my pants during the PREVIEWS!!" These statements from all these girls just show how emotionless he truly is.  Again, his lethal combination of characteristics makes him the perfect gift, but unwrap the bow and he's a self centered, masochistic type of guy he his.

Good looks + charm + fun personality = Andy Evans. What girl wouldn't fall into this trap?  He goes off like a bomb and you never know when IT's going to explode.