Together We Rose

Together we rose, like bear cubs do, during their first moment that they step foot out of the den. Together we laugh, together we sway, but it's not the same way everyday. Together we can create a whole new way of life, I'll write the script and when I am done you can draw it into reality. Together I want to live, together I want to stay, together we stand strong against all odds. When we are apart, even for a second, I feel weak. Together, we can surpass our worst fears. Sometimes I think about what the future has in store for us. Could we be? Will we be? Can we be together forever, until the end of days. These are the questions I ponder over every night and day. Baby, can you make these questions go away and make my worst fears disappear? Cuz together we can create our own history.

A lot of people have their own "first times" and a lot of people, consider me as a "nobody" when it comes to talents, but there is but one thing that I have that they don't...... A SOUL!!!! To have a soul is to show emotions, to feel, to care, and to feel empathy towards those who are down or depressed. I may not be good at sports, or even have the best grades, but I can sure as heck move any girls heart with my poetry.

So if you think I'm just a cheesy nobody, you're WRONG!!! Because it's not what's on the outside that matters, it is the inside that all of us should pay the most attention to.

CK

The Bulldozer

The words were like a bulldozer
Rolling over the lump of clay
The victim.
The clay wore thinner and thinner.
The driver traversed the machine
Back and forth
Back and forth
Cackling at the obliteration
Smirking at the power, control
Unknowing that the victim
Appeared to be clay,
Bendable and controllable,
But had a core of titanium
That would never be crushed
By some bulldozer.
Leaving the "victim"
Cackling, smirking, knowing.
HS

Poetry Comic

ES

A day at work

The lady whose desk was next to mine and had only been there a week when she found herself in front of the manager.  He had her take this job because she was suited for it and seemed to work well... he was wrong about that!  She never seemed to know how to do anything and always came in late, burned the coffee, and never picked up donuts.  She then didn't sit down at her desk but rather rearranged it all afternoon.  We couldn't help but wonder why she was hired.  We consulted out boss and he said he'd look into it.  She was then reprimanded for being late.  We thought that was it, but she decided to go crazy and wreck the entire office building.   She walked out crying wondering why she was fired.
 

A moment in history

I woke up to the sound of what seemed like screaming. Pulling my covers around my shoulders, I got out of bed and walked up to a little storm window. I ever so gently pulled back my purple curtains and glanced out of my window. I lived on a second story building so I could pretty much see everything. I could hear this supersonic boom as I continued looking out the window. My ears were ringing and I almost felt a bit of warmth brush against my skin. The light was only there for a few seconds before everything went black.  I was confused because I was still staring out my window and I could hear the screams of people, but it was like someone put a blanket over my eyes. I fluttered my eyelashes, like wings on a butterfly, scrunched my eyes as tight as I could but all I could see was darkness. I heard my mother rush into my room and let out a big gasp. I could feel her tears on my cheeks as she picked me up and carried me away.

*A reflection of a little girl staring out the window when the atomic bomb strikes. Because of the magnitude of light, she was blinded. 

Kell 

Portrait

A frown is a screaming smile
Canadian ninjas fly through the wispy air as marshmallow men haul snow through the chocolate forest in the land where the toucans flap their beaks and chirp their wings
But the cold brisk air smells of salt in the morning over the starboard bow
The sea is dark and thunderous and tastes like dry salty fish
But it feels like moist sand that wedges itself into the crevasses in fingernails
The harrowing axeman of Montegue smiled a screaming frown
But growling alligators might attack on the main deck by climbing the side of the three story building and through the skylight while eggnog is spilled upon the floor
But as the dark gloomy sun will set on the quivering horizon
And the finger of God explodes balloons of vibrant cotton candy in the sleepless sky
The cat cuddling castle will intimidate the never ending sins that are pounded into the overpowering eye that it sails into at the edge of the quivering horizon.    

JayZ

Monsters Under the Bed

When we are little, we ask our parents to check under our beds and in our closets for monsters. As kids, we know that our parents aren't afraid of anything and will always protect us. Eventually, the monsters crawl out from under our beds and become present in our everyday lives. In our first experiences with them we look to our parents, only to realize they have to let us fight our own battles. After a while, the monsters become easier to find. The monsters are the people who hope you fail, the people who love to watch you lose it. Their colors begin to show, and turn out to be green. Jealously. Jealous of the person you are, and the person they wish they were strong enough to be. Here is some of the best advice ever given to me: they will say things that hurt and you can't let that change the person you are. Sometimes even the ones you trust turn out to be monsters. The monsters are people, and they are everywhere.

KZ

This I Believe

I believe in the beauty of nature. In the smallest grain of sand there is a world you would have never imagined. Tiny shells, and pretty pieces of a gorgeous igneous rock, ground down into the fine powder we all take for granted. In the grove of trees surrounding a pond in a pasture, there is beauty. Brought to this spot by pure chance and force of nature. Carried but the wind from its mother trees possibly miles away. There is beauty in the fish that swim in the pond. The way they dart to and fro amongst the lilies. Their backs reflecting silver from the rays of the sun. There is beauty in the small grass frog sitting along the back of the pond. It's long legs curled up, relaxed but ready to leap at any moment. His legs, long and powerful are the thing that make him so beautiful. The way they tuck under him and quickly throw back while he swims out to a a dead tree, fallen in from a mighty wind storm many summers ago. Already on the log is the gorgeous painted turtle, warming himself in the mid June sun. His black and yellow head help up high and proud. His underbelly, hides his most remarkable feature, a colorful array of orange, green, and yellow made into a breathtaking design. Back on the bank, a garter snake slides through the tall green prairie grass. She hides on the shadows beneath the tall poplar trees, looking for crickets to make her next meal. She slides by the ground squirrel. He is too big for her to make a meal of, so they live together in peace. Ground squirrel is staying out of sight of the mother Red-Tailed Hawk. She circles overhead searching for a meal for her newly hatched chicks. Their bald grey heads connect to ever hungry mouths, making mother go out to hunt for lunch. A white tailed deer and her fawn walk the cow path to the water. Thirsty in the days heat, they reach their heads down to get a drink. All while keeping their eyes up, fixed on me.
In all this there is beauty. I have seen it myself. I have sat on the backs of this pond, underneath the poplar trees, and I have seen. I believe that in a time long gone, everyone had a spot like this. But not now. Now, this is my spot. This, I believe, is where all the troubles of life slip into nonexistence , and I can just cast out, and fade away.

Z

O me! O life!

Christmas break provided us all with a much needed recharge of the batteries.  Brains and attitudes came back for the most part ready and willing due to extra sleep, time with family and friends, the ability to read a good book or play a game, etc.  Second semester always brings a variety of change, whether it be the switching of classes, new courses, winter activities, etc.  As for us, December sent off 23 Creative Writing students with a hearty fair-thee-well.  The new year, and this blog, welcomes many familiar faces as well as some new souls into the world of Advanced Creative Writing!

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On our first day together, I showed the kids a clip from Dead Poet's Society...a brilliant film, in my opinion!  We watched as Robin Williams' character, Mr. Keating, encouraged his classroom full of male students to rip out the pages in their books regarding "Understanding Poetry." 

The message to be creative and view poetry as a privilege rather than a duty is maybe my favorite scene.  What Mr. Keating follows this specific scene with are some of my favorite lines of the movie:

 "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute.  We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is full of passion!  Medicine, law, banking--these are necessary to sustain life.  But poetry, romance, love, beauty?  These are what we stay alive for! I quote from Whitman:

O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish, . . . What good amid these, O me, O life?   

That you are here--That life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Keating pauses in the movie, and repeats that powerful last line one more time to his students: "That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."  He looks around and asks intently, "What will your verse be?"

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On that note, I went through the normal routine of what would be expected of the members of Advanced Creative Writing, as well as some of the projects we will tackle along the way.  This week they finished up their first task, to write their own "This I Believe" statement, inspired by thisibelieve.org.  I chose to end this week with some daily activities intent on getting them to think about the power of the written word.

Today, on a beautiful sunny, 40° reprieve from Father Winter, we made our way outside for the last 20 minutes of class.  Recess, if you will!  After getting the concept of throwing a snowball out of their system, members went about finding a dry place to sit in the grass and on the sidewalk outside of my room.  What followed was so peaceful, so amazing....that I fear I can't give the moment justice.  I didn't care what they wrote about--if they wanted to go further with our discussion that happened indoors on joy writing, or observations, or memories...it didn't matter.  I just asked them to write.  

For 20 minutes, the heads of 15 young men and women bowed to their paper, at times pausing to turn closed eyes and blissful faces towards the warmth of the winter sun, cocking a head in the direction of the gentle breeze through the trees, the music of birds, and the laughter of children on the playground....and they wrote!

It was a wonderful thing to witness, and a powerful moment to be a part of.  What would our world be like if everyone took the time to slow down like this on occasion?  Worries melted away like wax from a finely lit candle, and the pressures and stresses of Thursday were gone in minutes...it was all over in their body language and facial expressions.

Starting next week, Advanced Creative Writing members will begin sharing their own work, at their own choosing.  I welcome you in to witness their youthful brilliance.

~Ms. Olson