Cadet Life

Grandma reached down and picked up her nursing cap, still as crisp and clean as it was the first year, from her bed.  She observed the two black stripes lining the cuff, thinking back to when she didn't have a single stripe.  That was back when she and Raymond would go dancing at the Omaha ballrooms.  Tonight would be just like old times, only she would savor each moment more than ever.
"Only six more months until we get the third stripe," said a voice from behind her.
Grandma turned around quickly and shoved her cap and uniform behind her.  "Oh. Hi Martha."
"You're taking your midnight leave tonight?"  Martha questioned.
"Yep.  Raymond is back from war,"  Grandma couldn't conceal her joy as she plopped down on the bed.
"Oh I bet you're just dying to see him again!"  
"You have no idea." 
"The war is winding down it seems," Martha pondered.
"Thank goodness!"  Grandma nodded as that was about all she could think to say.  What else was there to say after a tiresome war had claimed the lives of many and the energy of all of the rest
"Do you think the government will honor our nursing certificates if we never go overseas?"  Martha continued to wonder.
"I don't know.  I'll worry about that later."
"I just hope this doesn't all go to waste, or if they make us pay for all of the training."
"I don't know.  Let's not waste our time worrying!"  Grandma shrugged.  Living in a large family on a farm throughout the Great Depression and the war, she had learned to take one issue at a time without fretting about the next.
They sat there for a few moments as the other cadets started pouring into the dormitory.
Martha began to giggle, "Ha, do you know what would be so funny?  When the witch comes to check on us for lights out, I'm gonna stand behind the sink and jump out at her, scare her."
"Ha, I don't know what to say about that.  It'll be hard for me to keep a straight face."
"Remember that time when she yelled at you and you yelled back?  She doesn't dare mess with you know!"  Martha noted.
Grandma primped herself up for her night out while the other girls got ready for bed.  They all watched the hand of the clock tick by.
"Martha!  It's 8:59!"  One girl called out.
Martha hurried over to the sink behind the door.  Everyone quietly anticipated the door opening while pretending to keep themselves busy with other things.  The door creaked open and the witch barged in.
"Girls! Lights...Ahhhhhhhhhh!  Martha!  Get into bed.  I'd slap you silly if I wasn't so nice!" The witch barked at the stunned cadets, her face bubbling red with anger and childish embarrassment.
Everyone sat still as stone on their bed, pasting looks of shock on their face only to cover up the laughter they suppressed.
While Grandma would have found much joy in this any other night, she was so preoccupied she hadn't even paid any attention to Martha.
"McGill, are you taking your midnight leave tonight?"
"Yes ma'am."
Grandma grabbed her midnight leave ticket and handed it over to the witch.
"Be back by midnight!" The witch called out at her, but the noise was a blur.
She was already heading down the hallway, her black heels clicking against the worn wooden floor, echoing throughout the desolate corridor.  She slid out the front door into the cool fall air and began searching the park bench at the street corner.  He had to be there.  He said in the letter he would be there.
As her eyes focused, there was a dark figure sitting at the bench.  It had to be him.  Grandma took off in a dead sprint across the muddy lawn in her heels. 
"Raymond!"

* * *

During the early 1940s, World War II plagued nations across the planet.  In the United States, most of the country's young men were overseas fighting.  There was need for desperate need for nurses, so the government came up with a training program.  With this program, woman could go through a free training for three years.  At the end of the three years, they would be sent to help with the war.  St. Joseph's college in Omaha got its roots from starting up one of these programs.  My grandma attended St. Joseph's.  She was dating her soon-to-be-husband at the time, and would take her midnight leaves to go visit him, excepts for the period of time when he was at war.  The midnight leave was just one of the strict guidelines given by the college.  Cadets were given one midnight leave ticket a month, which gave them permission to stay out until midnight.  On any other night, they were required to be in bed by 9.  My grandma recalls there being one highly intelligent, sociable girl who would have made a wonderful nurse, that stole an extra midnight ticket from the front desk.  She was caught in the act and expelled immediately.  My grandma recalls attending classes, including religious ones, and working in the hospital at the same time.  They wore bleach white uniforms with caps.  For every year in the program, they earned a stripe on their cap. The cadets were given a $15 stipend per month, which was used for clothing, their midnight leave dates, or any other necessities.  Cadets were not allowed to leave on the weekends, but sometimes my grandma would sneak out and catch the train home from the Durham station.

* * *

The witch slammed the door shut.  My grandma held her breath and waited for the witch's footsteps to taper off down the hallway.  She arose out of bed and grabbed her already packed suitcase.  She quickly made her bed and packed up her uniform into her suitcase.  Another girls was one step ahead of her, already slowly cracking open the window to prevent it from creaking.  She and three other cadets tip toed over to the window.  One at a time, they slid out of the window.  My grandma slung her suitcase over her shoulder and climbed slid out under the glass pane.  She fell to the ground and headed in the opposite direction of St. Joseph's campus.  With class and confidence, she walked down the streets of Omaha to the Durham train station.  The large hall was except for the man at the ticket booth and young couple sitting on a leather-coated bench in the far corner.  She crossed the intricate tile floor to the ticket booth and pulled out the last of her monthly stipend.  She pushed the two crumpled dollars across the counter.
"One ticket for the 11:00 train to Madison please.  And a locker."
The man handed her a ticket and her money, "Please, it's on us.  Have a nice trip, ma'am."
My grandma pulled her uniform and folded it up neatly into a locker.  This way, she could throw on her uniform upon returning and walk onto campus as if she never left. 
My grandma walked over to a bench and picked up a newspaper.  She penciled out the missing words of the crossword until a voice cam over the speakers, announcing the arrival of her train.
A few people exited the train, leaving six other riders.  My grandma boarded it herself and took a seat.  The full moon illuminated the harvested fields that zoomed past her.  She watched the fields zoom by until the train approached Madison.  She knew the roar of the train horn would awake her father, as it always did, and he would come to meet her at the station.  Helping her family out on the farm on occasional weekends eased her guilt of being away as as well as her homesickness. If the administration looked the other way, she would take advantage of it.

* * *

The war ended within a few months.  My grandma was able to finish out the program free of cost, and the government offered them certificates.  Fortunately, my grandma was never sent overseas.  She married Raymond and they settled down in Madison.  She continued working as a nurse at the Regional Center, a mental hospital, in Norfolk.

Ha

More Than A Walk

How do you walk?
Because a walk is loud
Because a walk is a label
How do you walk?

Do you walk with a limp
Never to be "normal"
With society's hand on the gavel
How do you walk?

Do you walk with swagger
With a slight dip in your step
And a sway of the shoulder
How do you walk?

Do you walk face down
Eyes glued to the floor
Just hoping never to be noticed
How do you walk?

Do you walk with confidence
With a chin in the air
And a pop off the next foot
How do you walk?

Do you walk like an angel
Light on your feet
A graceful, beautiful glide
How do you walk?

A walk is a category
Stereotyped or not
Your own little section
In the world's melting pot

A walk is a portrait
An autobiography
You defined yourself already
Will you ever be free?

JayZ

Silence

Silence is sometimes the largest cry of pain. She's tired. I can tell by the way her face droops just like what azaleas look like when you forget to water them. Her hair is pressed to her head and it looks like it hasn't been washed for a few days. She struggles to hold her chin up as a nurse has to try to pour water down her throat. I know that she's only got a few weeks left, but I try to put at thought out of mind. Her body looks stiff and ridged. I don't blame her for being uncomfortable, because I know that I wouldn't want to be stuck in bed all day long either. I can only imagine that the bed feels like a person is laying on a cardboard box. I know she doesn't find an inch of comfort even when those pillows surround her from every angle. The uncongenial noise of nurse's busy footsteps and stupid blaring television screens send me deep into a state of irritability. Her roommate, only about on hundred feet away, sounds as though they are about to hack up a cat and her next door neighbor likes to snore really loud. I decide that I've waited long enough. My feet click on the ice cold floor and I get close to her bedside. I bend my knee and squat down next to her. I can still see that vibrant gleam in her eyes. Though her body is failing her she can still muster up enough strength to pick up her bony fingers and touch the apple of my cheek. "Hello sweetheart, I'm glad you came."

Kell

In All the World

This is what she wants most in the world: a man to love her and a place to call her own. And she got it. She's been dreaming of this day for all her life. The perfect man drives her to the cozy little cottage outside of town she's envisioned since she was small. There is flowers surrounding the white picket fence and a perfect tree for a tire swing. 

She is lying. This is what she wants most in the world. She wants to travel all around the globe with a rock band. She wants to be reckless without responsibilities. Her dreams are infinite, not a single one alike. And once a dream comes true, she is onto the next one. She wants to be free, no restrictions, and to love so passionately it seems like the only thing she knows. Her life will be full of happiness, independence, and a wild spirit. The dreams of childhood fade, and new ones are being created and lived everyday. 

KZ

Push me farther
See how far you can
I'm known to explode father
But you keep trying to see it man

Go find someone else to spend time with
You left for over a week
No food or money but I have friends in this
You come back with her now you are weak

She tries to take control of my home
I push back because I'm 17
She is stealing my freedoms like I'm a child in this dome
I still do what I do because I'm almost 18

Every time I leave she said I run away
Here's the thing
I'm strong and I'm shutting down falling away
So let this sting

My mind has lapsed on itself
I am not here when anyone is trying to communicate
That is why I started doing this to myself
There is nothing here because we never communicate

It's been three weeks since I've seen you
Even though I am ONE room away
You see me and say that you miss me, you?
Where is the trash because that line needs thrown away

Now that you left I'm actually trying
I never thought that opening my mind would be so hard
I cannot talk to people even when  I'm trying
It's killing me but I'm strong and I've learned not to care about my cards.

Devyn

Rooted Deep

I am from the old porch swing
From grandpa's work bench and fisher price
I am from the brick walls
Red, rough
It looked like the dim glow of a dying fire
I am from the ever greens
The Alf Alfa and thistles
Who's purple and pink blossoms pop like fireworks
from the green stems of spring
I'm from fishing and bellowing belly laughs
From Iola and Jack
And Adrene
I'm from the talks a lot
And stubborn as a mule
From behave and
Hurry up
I'm from His ever saving grace
Raining down on me to wash away my sins
I'm from Scotland
Porridge and kippers
From the flames my brother battled when he burnt Mac and cheese
The blood that dripped on the fence post when my dad almost lost his thumb
Above my night stand
Resting from the long day of smiles
United, a family
I am from the smells of homemade apple pie
Baked with love
And devoured with a smile.

Bri

Spring Returning

 Life springing back
Jumping through the prairie
Running towards me

Standing tall and brown 
Waiting my turn 

The grass turning green
Growing fresh and anew
The tress beginning to bloom 

I'm standing, waving and waiting
Hopping you'll remember me

The river gurgling over yonder
Reminding me your near

My eyes are clearing the fog of winter
My arms waking with the warm wind
My legs, the green returning

A milkweed born a new, with a seed of hope

AC

Running through the forest late at night
I feel lost for the first time in my life
No memory of how I got there
It feels like one of those dreams that seems real
I have no idea how to feel
At peace with myself out in the wilds
Or lost in hatred for the cards dealt to me
That pushed me here
Lost between the lines of serenity and despair
I decide to hide under the exposed roots of a mass pine
I wait for first light but nothing ever comes
It feels like I am not even on this world
So quiet so dark so empty
After sitting there I decide to look flammable objects
I found tree sap a big branch and tore my shirt
I made a torch so I could see just a little better
But what I see makes me regret lighting the torch
In a circular motion I turn
Seeing them all around me
All facing me
The children are everywhere
I drop the torch and run
But I never make it out

Devyn

Push the pedal lower
Your finally hitting 120
Don't be afraid of the power
Push the car faster
Took you long enough to hit 180
What's wrong
You look like a sick song
Push the pedal down
It's not wrong
This car will never leave the ground
Now we're getting somewhere
210 i knew you could do it

Devyn

Isn't it funny that the friends you start with May not always be the ones that stick with you?

Freshmen year thinking I have these friends forever 

But as you go through highschool you sometimes grow apart

By the time you're a senior you usually end up with completely new friends

I am very thankful for every friend I have or had

But the friends I have now I wouldn't trade for the world

KDH

An unexpected incident
Optimus prime

One day I was told that I was to spend the week at my uncle andy's house ( he's the one that has 10 kids). I was excited to be able to spend time with my 7 cousins that can actually talk. when I arrived an exact two and a half hours from when I left my house, I was swarmed with my 5 smaller cousins. I couldn't wait for the time of excitement ahead. we usually wander the pasture, make fun movies with my phone, play guns, play football. we had a good time.
until one day my cousins and I went to their cousins house to jump on the trampoline. so we were bouncing and jumping and flipping. I decided to do a flip. I told my cousins to look out as I rolled, just as I rolled one of my cousins, dayton he's 12 got in my way and my foot made contact with his gut. he instantly hit the floor and started crying. I thought it was a crotch kick so I started stretching his legs, he begged me to stop because I guess it hurt too much. we took him inside my cousin's cousins house. we laid him in the basement because there was also a severe thunderstorm warning in the area. after we lay him there we went back outside to watch the weather and it began hailing, we picked up some quarter to ping pong size hail. we scurried back inside because the winds were picking up. we returned to the basement to check on dayton and he had thrown up all over the couch we laid him on. he wouldn't stop throwing up, so we moved him to the bathroom.
after the weather had cleared my uncle andy picked us up and took us back to his house. they took dayton to the doctor, and long story short; it turns out that I had accidentally kicked a hole in his small intestine and he was headed to emergency surgery in kearney pediatrics. I went home after that day feeling absolutely terrible about myself.
well anyways looking back two years ago, my cousin dayton and I laugh at what happened. oh and by the way he's ok now.                          

Shooting Stars

If I could catch shooting stars on my tongue
Instead of snowflakes,
The fire you breathe wouldn't burn me,
The oxygen in the air
Would no longer fuel your false words,
And you'd tuck your tail between your legs
And every shot I cast back
Would be a bullet you ate.
Wait 'till it rains, go stand in my pain,
Every tear drop-acid in your veins,
But you wouldn't be high,
You'd wish to die,
You'd say you're fine, but I see you.
You have no idea, this is how I feel.

A.H.

Tough Love

Remembering the time of hatred Hoping it would go away But when I look into your devilish eyes I just want to say I'm just another human being. I scream at the pain that was dealt towards me, I feel like I don't deserve to be alive, You say I'm unworthy, incompetent, and soulless, You say I don't belong, But I'm just another human being. Wishing that the pain would subside Wanting to run and hide Knowing that it is impossible to make it stop, Being punished for the things I've done, I'm just another human being Screaming as I am dealt pain, Feeling like I don't deserve love and compassion, Called unworthy, incompetent, and soulless, Can't belong, won't belong, will never belong, I'm just another human being. Abuse is an ongoing, worldwide fault, But together, we can stop the assault. Hiding behind falsified expressions, Putting up a wall, We all have one thing in common, That we all just want to bawl, Let's turn away from the pain, and make one last call!

Ck

Where I'm From

I am from dusty ball gloves,
     from Wilson and Neosporin.
I am from the oak-trimmed windows,
     Cracked open, crisp breeze, white embroidered curtains,
     Painting the prairie grasses and barbed wire fence
I am from capturing silky white fuzzies,
     The cotton wood trees,
     Towering, shading, rattling.
I am from the loamy sand,
     Absorbing the sun's waves,
     Enveloping bare toes.
I am from daring adventures
     From climbing to weak branches
     From yelling down badger nests
     From teasing the bull
     From skating the brittle ice of the pond.

I am from slap jack and dumb blonde jokes,
     From traces of dark red hair and short stature.
I am from the ticking bomb of impatience, and
    From holding your own, having each others' backs,
    Good times and bad, chaos and calm waters.

From you're cruisin for a bruisin and
     You'll be in worse trouble at home.
I'm from Amen before meals,
      Behave in Sunday School or else.

I'm from the fjords of Scandinavia,
      From famine-struck Ireland,
      From the streets of Germany,
      From the settlers of a new nation.
From warmed lefse and Norwegian rice pudding,
      The Christmas time favorites.
From the pennies Grandpa shamefully picked off a gym floor
From the red-haired, red-faced boy Grandma spotted at that game.
From a first date photo posted to the fridge.

I am from country-kid adventures,
    Falling and learning from mistakes,
Falling back on the family
    Who raised me after taking their days
One adventure at a time.

Ha

Where I'm From

I am from mud boots,
From homemade bread and peanut butter.
I am from front porch swingin', big pillows, and furry dogs that sound like echoing howls in the middle of the night.
I am from sunflowers that bloom in the summer,
the pine tree
Whose arms grasp out to poke you.
I am from tubing and sledding with papa Steve.
I'm from the hot Christmas sugar cookies.
From eat up! And go back for seconds!
I'm from early Sunday Mass
That fills my craving soul.
I'm from shit on the shingle
And fried chicken.
From the dent in my brothers ear,
The scar he gave me right back.
I am from endless summer nights
And countless hours playing the game I love...

ES

Lost Sense

One day of my life,
I want to lose all the pain,
Forget all of my humanity,
Seem almost immortal,
The scars and cuts show,
I feel free and alive,
I can feel no pain,
I touch the stove,
There is no heat,
The blister shows,
I have no pain,
I jump off the bails,
I land on my hand,
Blood rushes,
I don't feel the pain,
I feel free,
I don't need this,
I want to be free,
One day
The pain will go away.

Mr. Dodge

I steal...

I steal memories: cherished ones, prized ones, and the ones that make a person who the are. I can be sneaky like death and I can hit you so hard that you don't even know who you are anymore. I hold memories of the past, but I don't leave my victims high and dry. I create false memories and take the real ones.

Kell

Fresh

She walks out into the fresh air, and breathes in life
The streets scattered with orange leaves
She knows she can look forward to this for a month
The trees dropping small pieces of color
Branches holding on when the wind blows, showing unwavering strength
Chimney smoke pouring out of houses brings her back to the beginning

The good 'ole days at the beginning
Her veins full of new life
Inside her body she could feel brave strength
It seems as though the bad things in her life go, just leave
Bringing all the new shades of happy color
Back to her cheeks, never fading month after month

And as the years go by, month after month
She finds herself at another new beginning
The trees budding, bright green color
Spring brings happiness and new life
All around, the trees full of flowers, leaves
Mother Nature shows that beauty, is strength

Showing her that she too has unwavering strength
Doing what she has to, to stay ahead each month
Even as the good things goes, just leaves
Giving her yet another new beginning
Another chance to live her life
And give the world some much needed color

The brightness that she brings, the color
Gives the world a chance to show true strength
To show the rest that we love life
Like she does, and after every month
We give ourselves a change, a youthful beginning
And we make the good stay and the bad leave

This time, it's the good and bad together that let her leave
And she paints the world with the colors
Of her past, and shows them there's always a new beginning
And that hardships give us unwavering strength
Like the tress have in the windy month
Sheltering all those around them, giving them life

So at the fresh beginnings of every month
Let the past leave bright colors, so joyful
That everyone knows the strength of your only life.

KZ

Memories for a Grandchild

Here is where I first saw her, eating cotton candy at the fair.

There is where I first talked to her, it took a lot of guts.

Here is where we had our first date, we went to the drive in.

There is where we had our first kiss, it was like fireworks.

Here is where we were married, a small country church.

There is where our first house was, we spend hours fixing it up.

Here is where we grew our corn, before everything was bought up by big corporate farms.

There is where your grandma’s chickens were, they were sure a pain.

Here is where your mother was born, she was the most beautiful child I had ever seen.

There is where she first rode a horse, man was I proud.

Here is where I first took her fishing, and now I bring you.

z

Life

It's getting to be the time of year that everyone begins to itch. Gold Bond can't cure this itch, it's the itch of spring fever! That beautiful time of year where everyone gets excited. It signifies the end of school for kids, and the start of my favorite season of all. Storm season.

Nothing gets me going quite like the though of laying in bed and hearing the rhythmic drumming of raindrops on my window, or the soothing claps of thunder high overhead. These soothing sounds are better than any lullaby if could ever hear. Of course being in what's known as "Tornado Alley" there are always dangerous storms to look out for, but if you are smart, you can enjoy the beauty of those thunderheads rolling in.

I'm not sure what it is about watching those white giants tumble into the prairie, but it is the most awe inspiring sights to see. Watching them smash and crash into each other is as if watching titans fight on Mount Olympus. Storm hold such power in their beauty. Something that comes in so elegant is also on of natures most deadly killers. With the ability to level homes and schools, but calm enough to put people like me to sleep, thunderstorms are God's gift to humans.

On the prairie, agriculture is THE way of life, but many times Mother Nature could care less. There are many years where the weather is too hot for crops to grow. Farmers pray and look to the sky for those life giving clouds. Weeks can go by before their prayers are answered. Creeks and ponds go dry, water is conserved so the plants get every thirsty drop they can get. When the skies open up and let down those heavenly tears, all is well.

Z

Stolen

I steal.  I steal hearts of desire.  The ones that are so fragile that only need someone to swoop in to put them back together.  Those who are so lost at that moment in time where they will emotionally attach to anything that will stay with them.  Desire.  Loneliness.  Security.  Love?  I steal feelings and opportunity.  When the feeling burns deep within for someone or something.  Passion, the ache in a heart that was separated from the one who steals.  Steals hearts of desire.  Opportunity that slips away from under the hearts.  Suddenly everything that was once possible, once free, is washed away, stripped to the heart.  All of it, gone.  All disappeared, taken by the one who steals.  I steal.

JayZ

Busy little bees

Advanced Creative Writing has been busy this last month with larger projects.  For two weeks, members worked on developing a creative short story using the Google Earth extension known as Tour Builder.  As guinea pigs, there were bound to be a few hiccups along the way, but the results were incredible!  Tour builder basically gave the kids the ability to use a 3D earth to plot points, as well as adding pictures or video if they wished to their stories.  Pilots, plane crashes, bucket list traveling, Ancient Egyptian pottery, and college baseball were just some of the many focal points of their creations.

The class also had Mrs. Blocher for a sub while I was away at a conference; she introduced a song writing assignment that is also showcasing the unbelievable talent of this group.  Sometimes there is nothing more satisfying than finishing a writing piece you never thought possible.

And today?  Well, the combination of Friday + beautiful weather = crazy yet happy students...and who doesn't enjoy that interesting blend once and a while?!

Our class celebrated the day by opening up windows, basking in the fresh air and playing a fun group game that forces creativity in a short amount of time.  After laughing so hard that our many were near tears, it was mutually decided that laughter truly is the best medicine!
 The last bell of the day echoes through the halls, which empty faster than usual...the call of the sun is strong!

Wishing all a reviving, happy filled weekend! :)

~Ms. O

Where I Learned

Here I walked for the first time on the worn old carpet, grey when I last seen it, but it started off white.
Here I watched learning by watching, not by asking questions,
Here I sat in the sanoma with my grandpa listening to stories and sharing cookies.
Here I stood on the lonely tall hill, but I'm not alone I'm surrounding by the dogs I grew up with.
Alone here I sat in full camo waiting for the perfect deer, and on the ground an hour later I stood smiling at the 5+5 cleaning it.
Here I ran through hay as tall as me tripping and falling but running as fast as I can.
Here Sam and I in the hot shed with the door open, got my pickup cleaned up the first time I bought it.
There I, walked down the halls to class surrounded by pure strangers, now some friends, and some enemies.

Mr. Dodge

A Simple Holocaust Family

Ring around the rosie

They sat in a vase on our kitchen as the men burst into our house, forcing us out as they beat father over the head repeatedly, accusing him for nothing but the fact he was a Jew

A pocket full

Was less than what we could take as we grabbed what we could before we were separated and shoved into the back of trucks. I can still hear the screaming of those around me and feel the tears that hit my sleeve while I sat curled in the back of the truck wondering what was happening to life around me

of posies

were the only thing visible in the field around us. They seemed to wither, the closer we got to our future destination. If only I would have realized they were a warning of what was to come. They were foreshadowing the loss of life in the land ahead. I had heard horror stories of this… I knew what was to come

Ashes

Rained from the sky as we pulled up into camp.

The flames, I could see them, pouring from the tops of the buildings.

Pulling, they sorted us this way and that. Judging us like we were nothing but an item. I was shoved into one line of thin women.

Ashes

I could smell the burning flesh the closer I got to the building with fire. This can’t be happening. I caught a glimpse of my mother and little sister being shoved into those buildings before me. Screams leaked from the very heart of that stone building. We were forced to stand and listen to them suffer. Mother, sister...

Ashes

MONSTERS! MONSTERS! Do they not see the evil they’re doing? Make it stop! Please someone, make it stop.

We all

Were being shoved like cattle into that small room, forced to stand above the bodies that lay on the cold cement ground below.

Fall

Lord, PLEASE! This can’t be happening. How? Why? I can’t breath. The pain is intolerable, the heat is unbearable. My lungs are burning, skin is blistering. Where is my mother? My Father?

Wait, I see them now, and sister too.

Down

Bri

Remembering Him

I remember him
The love he had
The compassion for others
His hobby of fishing

I remember him
His beautiful tenor voice in the choir
His dedication to the Chruch
His joy of gardening

I remember him
The talks we had on the deck
While he smoked, the stories he told
The way he ate from his garden

I remember him
When he sent me to dig
An onion or pick a tomato
When he mowed for June

I remember him
His gardens, oh the produce,
Junes beautiful flowers, and strawberries
All the things he did for us

I remember him
The time he spent with his children
The love he had
The compassion he had

I remember Grandpa Bob
The love we had for him
The time cut too short

I remember

AC



 

Unicorns are rainbows

Unicorns are rainbows
Because unicorns fly
You see them flapping up into the clouds
You can smell the rainbow
Taste the unicorn
Feel its fur
Jack at Paris
Some unicorns can't fly
The unicorn is falling YOLO
"The white Unicorn of Rainbow"
The unicorn that couldn't fly hit the ground and didn't die!
Ron witnessed this
The unicorn would have been astonished of his doings
"El unicornio she callo del cielo"
Said the Latin man
The Eiffel Tower said whoah!
Unicorns are rainbows

Optimus prime

Arrow

Here is where I met him for the first time.
Here is where I realized that sparks shoot through me whenever he's close.
Here is where I spent my first 10 minutes alone with him in my truck one night because he forgot his
money and needed a ride to get it.
Here is where he said things that had my heart racing so fast, I thought it would beat right out of my chest.
Here is where I fell for him.
Here is where I should've told him because I thought he was leaving for good the next day.
Here is where I blissfully learned that he didn't.
Here is where he hugged me because he hadn't seen me in a week and he said he missed me.
Here is where he came up and rubbed my shoulders when I was having a hard time.
Here is where he suddenly hugged me again because he said he felt the need to be near me.
Here is where we had our first moment, standing in silence, looking deep into each other's
eyes.
Here is where I was out with him until 12:30am, just talking about
anything and everything.
Here is where I got grounded for it.
Here is where he first held my hands, wrapping them in his as he stared intently.
Here is where his laugh intoxicates me.
Here is where his touch sends shivers down my spine and where his smile sets fire to my
heart.
Here is where, even when his eyes glare daggers of blood, I am struck by arrows of love.
Here is where it all began.
Here is where our future is.

A.H.

Never ending struggle

College,

Exciting but nerve wrecking.

Never less stressful as heck! You get a plan to go to a college you really like, then at the last minute a college offers you a deal to do so,etching great with them. Throwing everything out of Wack, you suddenly can't decide what's the best thing to choose.

Parents never stop talking about it, constantly trying to change your mind.

But in the end it needs to be your choice not anyone else's.

Learning about yourself is important because it helps you out in the long run to help choose what's best for you.

College is a never ending struggle

Kdh

Life As a Crayon

It all started with the creation of my own well being. I was composed at a factory in Easton, PA on the 6th of July. But I'm not the only one to be constructed on this day, because the rest of my family is here in this oddly shaped box. My name.... Is R.E.D. Which is short for Retired and Extremely Dangerous. As I am swiftly jerked around by huge hands, I here the rest of my family screaming, almost as if they were on a roller-coaster. I barely catch a glimpse of a white truck labeled Rosetta, pulling up to the back of a larger building. My family and I are brought toward this other building. When we reach our destination, I can hear the soft whimpering of my mother(purple) and my little sister(baby pink) in the background of all these gruff sounding men. The men are telling the driver of the white truck to bring us to our rally point. ____________________________________________________________________________
After a while of being in the dark and musty back, the truck abruptly stops. The door opens and we are shocked and blinded by the bright illumination of the sun. Right when I start to believe that I'm going to die, the man grabs our box and a few others, and carries us into a new building. This building smelt like flowers blooming in the spring. The artistry on the wood walls was exuberayting. And the perfectly aligned shelves and stock was exciting as well. As we made our way down to the isle we belonged to, I saw a sign that said "Welcome to Hollywood, CA." This was our next home. I was starting to get a little dizzy from all the moving around. So I decided to take a little nap....(snoring excessively) I am awakened by a high pitched voice saying something about wanting crayons. As soon as I heard this, I was like, "Oh my gosh this is my chance to escape this box. So I started to move around so that the box would wiggle off the shelve we were on. Surprisingly it actually worked. So the mom of the girl boy picked us up and tossed us into this cold, metallic object. Soon after we were being scanned and put into a plastic bag. I was singing to my self about being able to see the open world once more.....

____________________________________________________________________________ We arrived at our "final" home and were being brought upstairs to this child's room. Finally, after so many days in this crammed box, we were free. The child said that we were in Albany, NY. Once free from our original home, I jumped due to the sound of my mothers blood curling screams. She had colored her last picture of purple. For she had been broken in half by this demonic child. ____________________________________________________________________________
Years later, my clothes(wrapper) had worn out into a blur of words and color. I ended up being washed down a toilet, once my height had shortened and my color was bland. Was this the end of my crayon life? Was I now useless? Yes to both questions.
I am now in the after life of a crayon. I see a sign that reads Death Valley California.

Once I saw that sign, I knew it was all over.

CK

CUSTOMS

In my house there are no rules.
You will fly carelessly with the wind
And respect wherever it takes you,
because everybody's path is unique.
You must be tolerant and obedient enough
That nothing may dull your happiness.
You have to be open to trying new things
And be accepting of failure.
Respect others; be kind always; hugs are nice too (just so you know).

E.S.

The Right Shadow to Follow

If I could help the kids of this corrupted world think that they do not have to join gangs or do drugs, I would. There are a few things they need to hear....
There are many things that can occupy your leisure time. Such as, writing, hanging with RIGHT group of friends.... Etc.
Don't do drugs because they will corrupt you and it is hard to get out of such an addiction.
When you join a gang, there is no turning back because once your out, YOU are the victim of their tortuous acts of pleasure.
Gangs are just wannabes that think they are a "family" but when the push comes to shove, they gave nobody but themselves to defend their own well being.

DRUGS KILL!
Gangs hurt others for pleasure.
But you, can choose how your going to live....live for yourself , and not in another persons shadow.
CK

Here and There

Here I scribbled a picture of my doggy and kitty with purple crayons on the living room wall.
Here I bubbled with pride as I scaled a tree, a fallen Nebraska cottonwood, for the first time.
Here I played t-ball on the purple team.
Here I hobbled along on my bike that was freed from the training wheels.
Here I unearthed my love for science, watching heat from my grandma's lamp melt a plastic toy.
Here I lied to my aunt that it was not me who created the green, plasticky mess on the carpet.
Here I built, with architectural skills of a second grader, a treehouse crafted with old barn wood.
Here I fell through an unsturdy board of a treehouse.
Here I waited patiently for when I would be lifted on shoulders for the game-winning interception
Here I cackled at my impromptu horror stories while my cousins shivered with fear.
Here I learned to drive on a muddy 210 St. in a grey Ford Taurus.
Here I listened to cackling fireworks, innocent child play as we said goodbye under July stars.
Here I snatched my diploma and walked off the stage one last time.
Here I had an epic summer.
Here I end this journey at a place that once seemed a very far off there.
Here I start a new journey there, using the knowledge gained from the last journey.
Here I pull up that grey Taurus in a parking lot in front of a dorm.

Ha

Lightning show

If I lay here...

It's a warm summer day and I choose to ride my bike out in the middle of a pasture right by the beaver creek. I part the prairie grass and lie down. The clouds have now moved their way across the span of sky. I was promised a lighting show this afternoon. In the near distance I can hear the birds chirping and the bugs buzzing along. Moooooo. I hope the cows don't mistake me for their afternoon brunch. Horses trot right past my toes checking to make sure the cows are doing well. The wind picks up, and my hair strands sand on end reaching to the sky. It's three o'clock and it's only two minutes until showtime. The cows decide to join me and they too lie down in the grass. I can hear the stage director's voice booming behind the grey curtain of clouds. The spotlight flashes from all comers of the stage. Now, it's 3:02 and it's time to let the lighting show begin. I find it so sweet that after the show some of the actors came down from the stage and greeted me with kisses on the apples of my cheeks.

Kell

I Long For The Summer Nights

The sun starts to set,
Summer's warm day is coming to an end.
The wood is stacked by the pit,
Waiting and begging to be burned.
The fire makes a loud pop,
Flames reflect in our eyes.
The heat burns our shins,
Hot dogs roast over the fire.
Flames sizzle and spit sparks,
Ashes raise to the sky and become stars.
The moon lights the path to peace,
Trees sway in the cool breeze,
And fireflies light up the landscape.
The coals glow dimly in the bottom of the pit,
Telling us its time to rest.
The locust sings us a sweet lullaby,
And we drift off to sleep in the summer air.

-KZ

My name...

Devyn
such a hollow sound
like knocking on a hollow tree
like yelling in a tunnel
the lonely echo
yet daring to be
different

Loud without making a sound
Silently screaming

Psych

Quotes of Inspiration*

A sage is the instructor of the ages--
"No one can ever fill your shoes!"
Be the light--

For life is too short to stay mad.

You see, you are in charge of your own happiness,
and you
are
enough.
So explore the world around you,
Laugh often, long, and loud
Gasp for breath...heck,
High five it....
Because the truth matters. 
More than you know.

Stick with love as hate
is too great a burden to bear,
But most of all?

Set your sights on a star of known brightness....

Create.


~Ms. Olson
*Poem of quotes compiled from my desk calendar!

Not Just A Father, A Dad

Here I pulled the throttle back and leaned forward as my bike climbed the steepest hill in the pasture.

Here I bargained back and forth and held my ground to get my first truck.

Here I kissed every good looking girl in the room on New Years Eve.

Here I danced at a wedding with your mother for the very first time.

Here I curled up on this couch with her and watched Cheers in her small apartment room.

Here I kissed her in front of both our family and friends after we exchanged vows to start our lives together.  I still see her beauty in that moment and every moment since.

Here I held her hand with excruciating pain as she huffed and puffed in the hospital bed.

Here I held your little head in my arms for the very first time.

Here I carried you upstairs from a blanket on the floor after you dozed off while we all were watching America's Funniest Home Videos.

Here you persuaded me to buy yet another toy because you were so cute that I couldn't say no.

Here I held you on my knee and let you drive the tractor to the next gate.

Here you slingshotted water balloons at me in front of the house.

Here I lifted you up onto the saddle to ride no further than around the yard.

Here I watched your gaze turn to love as you looked down at your new baby sister.

Here I gathered sand by the ocean so you could make your first sand castle while the waves glided forth to the edge of my callused feet.

Here I sat by the campfire with you asleep in my arms until I had to give you up to your mother who took you to sleep in the tent.

Here I wrapped your icicle toes in my coat to warm them up until the buck walked into the clearing at the edge of the field.

Here I cooked you a steak at 1 am because you ruined your supper by eating chips before we sat down to eat.

Here I hugged you after each football game and felt how proud of you I am.

Here I watched you grow to become a man, through all the steps, the trials, the glories, the smiles, the laughs, the love.  I was there.

JayZ

Memories of Venezeula

Here as a child I played ding dong ditch with my group of friends
Here I attempted parkour with friends and got in trouble for trespassing
Here I picked lemons off the neighbors lemons tree and made lemonade with my friends, and got in trouble
Here I survived the three inches of rain we got in 2008
Here I flew a plane and ventured into new lands
Here I lived in a new world
Here I am now


Optimus prime

Real Nightmare

It was 11 O'clock, and I had just arrived back in my dorm from my long shift at Applebee's. My feet were still screaming as I walked over to my bed. They let out a squeal of joy once I finally slipped my shoes off. It felt so amazing to lay down. My roommate was surprisingly sound asleep. I didn't want to bother her so I grabbed my headphones and covered up as I prepared myself to watch a few episodes of psyche on my laptop before I went to bed. It was now 12:01 am and I hadn't seen or heard any noise come from my roommate, which was extremely odd since her snores were louder than the screech of a wild boar. I slowly slid out of my bed and ever so quietly crept over to check on her. I placed my fingers on her neck. There was still a pulse, good she is a live. I didn't think anymore of it, and decided I was extremely tired so I went to bed.
It was now 10:00 am and my roommate still hadn't moved from the same position she was in last night.  She never can sleep past nine so I couldn't figure out what the deal was. I walked over to wake her up because she had class in ten minutes, but it didn't take more than the quick touch to her arm for me to realize the horrifying truth, she was dead.
I started screaming and took of running down the hall to get our RA. I couldn't even begin to describe to her what was going on so I pulled her down to my room and forced myself to show her. She frantically started dialing 911 in an attempt to get help of any sort. Confusion, panic, and chaos had set in.  
After a few hours of sitting in our RA's room and constant questioning from the police, they told me she must have died while I was at work, her legal death time was 10:49 pm.  I just stared at them and said nothing. How could that be? There isn't any way that that could be possible. I felt her pulse at 12:01. I know I did.
I stared at the investigator and with a deep breath I told him that.
He looked at me with a little worry in his eyes and spoke the words to me I will never be able to forget as long as I live, "That pulse you felt wasn't hers. It was her killers."

Bri

A Day in the Garden

The flowers growing in the garden blossom
As the clouds roll in the lighting flashes the rain
Begins, the cool breeze and waving branches are beautiful
The rain comes trickling through the dry creek, it grows into a stream
The garden continues to cool letting each and every plant
breath. Sitting on the bench in the gazebo, relaxing.

The rain goes away, allowing me to move out to the garden to relax
more, I find the bench nearest the roses and decide the smell from each blossom
is absolutely wonderful. Sitting there watching the trees and flowers and shrubs, plants
are beautiful things, never needing more than a scoop of love and a shower of rain.
flowing on and babbling through the garden's center filling the pond below, runs the stream
as I sit, dreaming on throughout the day of place far and near, that are exquisitely beautiful

laying on the banks of the pond, I stare up and watch the clouds drift by, beautiful
spending time alone in the center of this grand garden green I lay just relaxing,
happy times and joyous things, a pond of memories filling up ready to flow downstream
there in the distance, are the Lilies growing tall and fragrant, such large blossoms
coming from in the distance the clouds return, they rumble ever so quietly, the rain
Comes and I run for the gazebo arriving just before the rain begins, I sit watching the plants

the rain ends and I wander off towards the shade garden, filled with plants
in many different hues of green. Hostas and Bleeding hearts fill the area with beautiful
shades of purples and pinks. under these trees not more that a drop or two of rain
is ever needed. I sit in soft green grass enjoying the sounds of happy birds, I love relaxing
eventually I take a nap next to the violets as they wave in the soft gentle wind the blossoms
of perpetual motion. down the hill runs the babbling brook the runs right into the stream.

I awake to and go down to the brook, following it until I find the stream
There I sit skipping rocks watching as the wind blows by rustling the leaves of the plants
Down by the stream I find a hidden alcove filled with columbine and astilbe blossoms,
the scent is amazing, as I wander through a find a waterfall near the back such a beautiful
place, simply walking through the alcove continues to refresh the already relaxed
senes of mine. The creek feeding the falls above, has been replenished by the recent rain.

Time moves on, and I follow the stream up a ways, finding more brooks created by the rain,
I decide to stop and sit again for a while listening to the birds and the babke of the stream.
this day has been filled with peace and tranquility, i have become fully relaxed
laying next to the stream I notice more blossoms of new primrose, the plants
simply abound, filling this garden to the brim making it the most beautiful
that I’ve ever seen. on the other bank I notice a patch of Lily of the Valley with big blossoms

The flowers and their blossoms abound with joy, many washed open by the rain.
The beautiful land surrounding me, cut by brooks and streams
A garden filled with these plants of grandeur, and a place to sit and relax.

AJC

People change

The world we live in not everyone is going to get along.

But when we are younger, we are forced to be stuck in a room with people 

That we either can not stand or bully one another.

Through middle school years it gets worse everyone is going through that awkward change.

People do grow up but it doesn't seem they do until the last year of high school, this year my senior year, I finally feel like I get along with mostly everyone. Hanging out with people I never hungout with before. But as a senior we all want to get out, so we really just realize how much time we wasted hating instead of hanging.

Kdh 

First Love's Knife

I can still remember the butterflies
Fluttering through me,
Tickling me when I saw you,
Talked to you,
When you smiled at me,
And your touch that electrified me,
The blindness that came with a first love.
But I woke up when you stabbed a knife into the small of my back,
You know, where you always used to caress.
You left a gaping wound so deep, it was a river of blood,
Flowing from my heart that you tore out of my chest.
Over time, the void has slowly filled,
The river dried out and I have healed,
Moved on to another who will treat me right.
But no matter how much time will pass,
I'll always have the scars from my first love's betrayal.

-A.H.

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!

 --------------------------------------------

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?"

  --------------------------------------------------------

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