Creativity In Writing

Martie`s Writers Window

2009-09-24T09:31:00.000-07:00

Martie`s Writers Window

Check out this wonderful new site to help get writers started in online writing and more! They are still getting everything set up so check back with them often to see what is new!

The Sun Comes Up, the Sun Goes Down

2009-04-09T09:04:00.000-07:00

by Jaywergin, Mar 2, 2009
Something that's on my mind.
The sun comes up, and the sun
goes down.
The leaves show color,
and then the leaves turn brown.
Two come together, and one falls down,
The other one picks her up, and there’s love all around.
It’s quite profound,
It’s like Romeo and Juliet
but in a modern day town.
Independence is not defined
through being alone.
Continue living your life,
it’s precious and not to be disowned.
Love is not something
you should put on hold.
A heart is not something that can be sold.
Life is a story that cannot be foretold
Stand by the one you love, as you grow old.
I know it’s unpredictable but you shouldn’t be afraid,
Tell me what your feeling, take down the blockade.
Open your eyes, stay out of the shade,
The sun is shining don’t let your life fade.
Lets start a crusade,
To change the way love is portrayed.

To Read more from Jaywergen please click here

Anger Management

2009-02-16T10:15:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to share this from an e-mail I received! Enjoy!

When you occasionally have a really bad day,
And you just need to take it out on someone,
Don't take it out on someone you know,
Take it out on someone you don't know,
But you know deserves it.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered
A phone call I'd forgotten to make.

I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying 'Hello.'

I politely said, 'This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?'

Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear 'Get the right f***ing number!'
And the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her,
I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her,
I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.

When the same guy answered the phone,
I yelled 'You're an asshole!'
And hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it,
And put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks,
When I was paying bills or had a really bad day,
I'd call him up and yell, 'You're an asshole!'
And hang up!

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced,
I thought my therapeutic 'asshole'
Calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company.
I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?'

He yelled 'NO!' And slammed down the phone.

I quickly called him back and said, 'That's because you're an asshole!'
And hung up.

One day I was at the store,
Getting ready to pull into a parking Spot.

Some guy in a black BMW
Cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.

I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot,
But the idiot ignored me.

I noticed a 'For Sale ' sign in his back window,
So I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later,
Right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial,)
I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, 'Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?'

He said, 'Yes, it is.'

I asked, 'Can you tell me where I can see it?'

He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax .
It's a yellow ranch, and the car's parked right out in front.'

I asked, 'What's your name?'

He said, 'My name is Don Hansen,'

I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Don?'

He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.'

I said, 'Listen, Don, can I tell you something?'

He said, 'Yes?'

I said, 'Don, you're an asshole!'

Then I hung up,
And added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem,
I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea.

I called asshole #1.

He said, 'Hello.'

I said, 'You're an asshole!' (But I didn't hang up.)

He asked, 'Are you still there?'

I said, 'Yeah!'

He screamed, 'Stop calling me!'

I said, 'Make me!'

He asked, 'Who are you?'

I said, 'My name is Don Hansen.'

He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'

I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax ,
A yellow ranch, I have a black Beamer parked in front.'

He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Don..
And you had better start saying your prayers.'

I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole!' and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2.

He said, 'Hello?'

I said, 'Hello, asshole!'

He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'

I said, 'You'll what?'

He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass!'

I answered, 'Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.'

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd inFairfax .

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax .

I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel so much better.

Anger management really does work

Lippy the Lizard

2009-02-14T08:05:00.000-08:00

by Alistair Briggs, Feb 14, 2009
About someone who has to make the ultimate sacrifice as they give up on their life for that of every other living thing. Seen through the eyes of Lippy the Lizard.

Lippy was a lizard from Lizardonia,
who had a special talent.
His lips were so big
he could blow bubbles the size of houses.
All the other lizardshad normal size lips.
All of them could blow bubbles
but just normal size ones.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
had the special talent
of blowing huge bubbles
that were lighter than air.
All the other lizards
could blow bubbles too
but just normal ones,
bubbles that burst straight away.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
blew bubbles like houses,
that were lighter than air
and impossible to burst.
All the other lizards
were wary of Lippy's bubbles.
Although they were so big,
they could see them coming.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
could keep it under control.
Whenever he felt like a bubble
he would go outside.
Out in the open air,
the bubble that Lippy had created,
floated up in the sky.
No one was harmed by it.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia,whose lips were so big
and blew bubbles the size of houses
had never thought of this before.
"I wonder where they go?!
He pondered to himself.
"They must go somewhere,
somewhere in the sky."
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia,
had never thought this before.
He had been making bubbles
for many, many years.
He had to find the answer,
so asked some other lizards.
"We do not know" they said,"Where your bubbles go."
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
asked every single lizard
and not one in the whole of Lizardonia
could tell him where his bubbles go.
But one of the lizards told Lippy,
that there may be someone who could help.
"The wise scorpion of the sea,may be able to help you."
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
knew what he had to do.
Find the wise scorpion of the sea,
to find out the answer.
It took nearly 100 years to find,
the sea with the wise scorpion.
Nearly 100 years
and over 4,000 bubbles.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
asked the wise scorpion of the sea,
"What happens to the bubblesthat my huge lips make?"
"The ones that are as big as houses
and impossible to burst?"
The wise scorpion of the sea
thought and then gave him the answer.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
had never thought of this before,
but he hoped the scorpion was wrong.
If he wasn't, then the end was nigh.
The bubbles that he produced,
that were impossible to burst,
had all floated into space
and were now building up.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
had asked how big space was.
The wise scorpion of the sea
had said that space was expanding.
"So space has no ending?" asked Lippy.
"It has an ending" said the scorpion,
"One that is getting further away."
Lippy asked if it was ok.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia,
was not the smartest lizard
but if he understood right,
his bubbles could be filling space.
His bubbles were as big as houses,
producing them for thousands of years.
They had been building up in space
and space could not keep up.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
was now quite worried.
If space was filled up with his bubbles
there would be no space for others.
He needed to find out what to do,
was there a solution?
He hoped there was,
but feared there wasn't.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia,
found the smartest lizards
in the institution
where the lizard scientists worked.
Hopefully they could help him out,
find a solution,
to the house size bubbles
that were now filling space.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
told the 5 lizard scientists
all about the problem,
each of the was shocked.
And from that very moment,
the 5 lizard scientists
went away to work
on a solution to the problem.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
had to stay in the institution
but only with one condition,
he had to go outside to make bubbles.
Four thousand and seven years ago
was when Lippy was born.
Lizards from Lizardonia
had an average age of ten thousand years.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
was not even middle age yet.
All the bubbles he had ever produced
was not even half the number he would.
Now he was getting worried
about the lack of space in space.
He hoped the scientists would find
a cure for the problem.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
waited many years in the institution
for the scientists good news.
"We could just kill you"
"That would fix the problem"said the first 2 scientists,
at the same time in unison.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
hoped they were joking
but feared that they weren't.
The third scientist burst out laughing.
"They are joking" he said,"We may have found a way
to burst your bubbles
and save the day."
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
sighed a sigh of relief.
The end was in sight,
a solution was near.
The fourth scientist spoke for the first time,
"Your bubbles are fascinating,
near impossible to burst,
but only if you are outside of it."
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
could not understand.
How could anyone get inside his bubbles?
If that was the only way to burst them.
The fifth scientist would have spoken here,
but he couldn't.
The work that had happened had killed him,
there were only four left.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
pouted his big lips,
as if to make a bubble.
He now knew the answer.
He blew the bubble as big as a house
and just before it bubbled away.
He jumped in the bubble
and started to float away.
Lippy the lizard from Lizardonia
had never been a brave lizard.
As he floated away into space
he knew he had saved the day.
No more bubbles would be produced
after the air in the bubble had gone.
Lippy would die soon,
but the problem was solved.

For more from Alistair Briggs click here

Soul Felt Feelings

2009-02-02T09:52:00.000-08:00

by lindalulu, Feb 1, 2009
My soul felt feelings as anxiously awaiting the day of my son's return.

As I sit and wonder,
where are you as I write.
you are my youngest son,
and into war you go to fight.
The way that I feel inside,
the worry I do tell.
as God I pray protect him
from that place we all call hell.
If you listen closely,
I am sure you'll here the chant,
of all the men and woman sent into war,
for our freedom they will grant.
Proud Americans as they do stand
with all of us in mind.
as they walk in dangers way
until home again they'll find.
As a Mother I cant explain,
the way my soul is felt.
As I sit and wonder,
what else to him will be dealt.
Be safe for me my angel,
as you walk the danger side
Ill wait for you until the day,
home again you come with pride.

Read more from Lindalulu

I Am a Vietnam War Veteran

2009-02-01T08:53:00.000-08:00

by Westbrook, Dec 30, 2008
We fought a ferocious war; many were wounded or died in Vietnam. We were boys who found ourselves fighting with no homeland support. It was as if we were outcasts, with no country. nly our families cared whether we would come home. We were hated in Vietnam and hated in our own country.

I proudly served in the United States Army's Big Red One (1st Infantry Division) at the age of 22.
The military taught me to be a killing machine and stuck me in the jungles of Vietnam.
Like most of us, I was a brave but sort of scared guy when I got to Vietnam, but ready to fight.
I will never forget the first time we were attacked and had to take cover, running over wounded and suffering American soldiers, some lying in water, missing limbs and moaning. It was then I knew what I was really involved in.
I served a term in hell. I realized and lived the constant agony of staying alive and the agony of taking lives. I smelled the scent of death, something no one can understand and cannot be explained.
I fought for my country; I took my turn to fight for our freedom, and the freedom of those in Vietnam who could not defend them selves. I didn’t run to Canada to avoid fighting for my country, or came up with some lame excuse not to go to Vietnam.
I spilled blood and realized the world is dangerous and many people around the world need help to be free from tyranny.
When I came home, I was NOT greeted as a hero. No one met me with open arms. No bands played for me. I was spit upon and cursed by hundreds of demonstrators.
I spent my first night in a hotel that didn't want me. People demonstrated all through the night as if I were a hated criminal. I could hear them calling me all the nasty and hateful names imaginable.
How do you think a young boy feels when he had just taken lives and was willing to give up his own for the people of his country, only to be treated as a hated criminal by those people?
I don't give a damn about people's politics and whether they agreed with the war or not. I do care that our - the American - people, committed the most atrocious and terrible sin of all, not supporting us and not thanking us for what we had done for them. They did more harm to us than any bullet or bomb could have done.
I am an American Veteran. I was not greeted with care, appreciation or love when I returned. I was greeted with hostility, cursed and spit upon. I couldn't even stay in a hotel without it being picketed.
Our country let us down and damaged many of us for life.
I have only had one person acknowledge me for what I did and what I was willing to give for my country and thanked me for it…years afterwards.
Vietnam Veterans have had their hearts and spirits broken. It seems no one cared for what we did. We found ourselves just fighting for each other in that war. Do not be surprised that if you ever have the occasion to thank a Vietnam veteran that he does not fall apart in tears.

Read more from Westbrook

Passion

Bag Lady

Blessed are the Hearts of the Elderly Who Die Alone

Winter Snows

2009-01-31T08:31:00.000-08:00

by Sharona, Jan 31, 2009
The changing landscapes.
Winter snow, I watch you drifting,
as the north winds ever shifting,
drive you onward or'e the trees,
and the cries that I am hearing,
as out the window I am peering,
bundled up in blankets,
so I won't freeze.
I watch you glisten in the night,
as my fantasies take flight,
with a cup of warm cocoa in my hand.
I think of when I was a child,
and how I piled,
you up in to a big snowman.
with a carrot nose,
and coal for eyes,
that made you look so surprised,
as though the snow I ran.
Remembering that little girl,
as I watch you whirl,
old winter snow,
you have always been my friend.

Read more by Sharona

I feel You In My Heart

The Old General Store

The Night

One More Bridge to Cross

2009-01-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

by Jim Miller, Jan 26, 2009
There always seems to be another bridge.
Times are hard
But they could be worse
Bad luck isn’t new
It’s an age old curse
I know if I sit back
And bide my time
My soul will reach out
And touch my mind
I’m working hard now
To be my own boss
Another step ahead
I got one more bridge to cross
Taking it easy
With the sun going down
I sit back and listen
To night with out sound
I think I have heard it said
A million times before
At the end of life
Awaits a golden door
Fact becoming superstition
Superstition becoming fact
Everything is losing place
Nothing seems intact
Don’t tell me that the end is easy
Because I don’t think it fits
I don’t think were going to find
A place where golden angels sit
We're not going to find a home
Like children who are lost
I have opened up the golden door
And there’s one more bridge to cross

For more from Jim Miller please click here

Don't Fear to Tread

2009-01-25T19:28:00.000-08:00

by Lauren Axelrod, Jan 25, 2009
A secret that lies in the deep abyss.
There is a path that leads
into a deep trench that holds
a piece of eternal life where
sea creatures speak and oceans give advice

You really must click on the title to read this poem. It just isn't the same without the photos! Thank you Lauren for writing such a wonderful piece!

Don't fear To Tread

Lauren Axelrod's Triond profile

I've Been Tagged!

2009-01-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

To my surprise and delight, after being away for a couple of days, I came back to check on things and found that I had been tagged by New Scribbles By Glynis . What fun! I will follow the directions here.

I have to tell you about myself, telling of 7 weird or wacky, random or real things.

1. I love dogs and tigers.

2. I have had two reconstructive jaw surgeries.

3. I love to laugh and have a great sense of humor

4. I learned to read when I was in preschool

5. I LOVE chocolate martinis

6. I hate crickets and spiders

7. I have always wanted to write a book but have yet to finish one.

Now I am going to tag someone else:

ReBound Hounds

The One Minute Writer

My friend Glynis has a new blog!

2009-01-24T08:22:00.000-08:00

You may have enjoyed her blog Scribbles By Glynis, I know I have, but now she has opened a whole new blog! TidBit City is her new blog and I really think you should check it out! Excellent work Glynis!

Forward Momentum

2009-01-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

by BoJack454, Jan 22, 2009
When life knocks you down and kicks you around, kick it back.
Climb that mountain
Break through that wall
Destroy that barrier
Don't accept the fall
Stand up straight
Stand up Tall
Stand up proud
Say it to yourself
But say it loud
Accept the challenge
Piss on defeat
Forget dismay
Grit your teeth
And get out there
And have a great day
Don't back down
And don't look away
Jump right back up
And go find your way
Persistence and determination
Can only do good
And free your mind
To do things
You never thought you could.

For more from BoJack visit https://www.triond.com/users/BoJack454

Midnight's Child

2009-01-21T10:01:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Aug 31, 2008
I wrote this when I was fifteen after my boyfriend's suicide.
There was a place where every time
When the rage inside
Grew to the place where pain would seek to find.
Now, I can't see the sun rise.
In my dark place of mystery,
Come to me, angry child.
Take the lead.
Don't become Midnight's Child.
Don't walk into the fire.
Can't you see, nothing's lost?
The candle burns for our cause.
There is a place for everyone
In this world of shame.
I once took the chance, gambled and won.
No longer the beast loose to maim,
But it's a mystery,
This world of foreign breed.
Turn the sun to red; make it bleed.
Still you become Midnight's child,
Destined to walk into the fire.
In your world, all is lost.
Your candle burns no more; gone with its friendly spawn.
Once a place for everything
In a world of pure desire.You crave only one thing,
A flicker of the forgotten fire.
That spark is gone, innocent child.
Your spirit lost to the crier.
Come back, sweet child, midnight now your guide.
Will you forever stay Midnight's Child?
Becoming one with the fire?
In your soul of lost and found,
In darkness, you are bound.

For more from Allison Jae please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Allison+Jae

A Heart That Beats for a Dream

2009-01-20T10:54:00.000-08:00

by Lauren Axelrod, Jan 2, 2009
A secret longing for a stranger that haunts the mind.
I am seeking something that is not
within my grasps; nor does it present itself
in the dawn of the day but, in the darknessof closed eyelids.
A longing for a soul engulfed heart
a passion that only exists in the dreams
of enraptured lovers and fairy tales oflost loves.
For this day there is a vision, a question
of what will be when the path has
ended and the direction has led to
the dirt in the desert.
The love this soul will seek may be
found in the hole of ancient history
a blood boiling love that stretch’s the sea
that shall remain until the heart beats no more.

Read more from Lauren at http://www.triond.com/users/Lauren+Axelrod

Triple Awards - Sisterhood, Lemonade and Best Friend

2009-01-19T10:16:00.000-08:00

I was so thrilled to receive a triple award from my girl Lauren at Freinds Revolution. Thank you Lauren and everyone who visits here! I am still trying to get this thing up and running so everyone can enjoy the writings of such talented people.

Here are the rules for the recipients:

1. Put the logo on your blog or post.

2. Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!

3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.

4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.

5. Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received your award.

Time for me to pass this on to my sweet, good, best, sisters, caring, you name them - ITS YOU:), YES YOU:

Jackie Stroud-Painter at Author/Poet's Life

Loribeth at Loribeth's Artistic Romance

Ares at Clouds And Letters

C. Beth at The One Minute Writer

Joey and Maggie at The Long And Short Of It All

Sonya at People Reading

ihearthounds at Rebound Hounds

Pat at Backporch Musings

Deborah at Adventures In Freelancing

Embee at Musings Of A Would Be Writer

To Rid Our Lives of Evil

2009-01-19T09:58:00.000-08:00

by Jaywergin, Jan 19, 2009
Venting.
Alone and deranged.
I turn the page,and wonder if I’ll find my name.
Life can be damaging,
People are so demanding,
All they search for is attention and fame.
Looking for things with monetary value,
Might as well be a statue,
A pawn in the modern day game.
You’re just like cancer,
I look into you for an answer,
And you eat away at my brain.
Diseased since birth,
You carry a curse,
And live your life in reverse.
I’m like a volcano, full of molten lava,
Trying to cause you trauma,
To rid our lives of drama.
Out of place and awkward,
Illogical and absurd,
You give us your word,
And take it right back.
Out of your mind.
You want back what’s yours,
I want back what’s mine.

For more from Jaywergin click here : https://www.triond.com/users/Jaywergin

The Spectrum

2009-01-12T09:45:00.000-08:00

by BoJack454, Jan 11, 2009
A look at both ends of the spectrum, a struggle with temptation, in a humorous poetic way. I also threw in a few plugs for Triond Folk.
This is about a choice we must make. Please remember when reading this that God has a sense of humor also. I hope no one takes this wrong and thinks it is sac religious or blasphemous because it is not. I have a nickname for Jesus, I call him JC, and insofar, he's been pretty good to me. Sorry, can't help it, you guys know I love to rhyme and keep a line in time.
Get away from me
To you I don't belong
You tried to take my soul
And buy it for a song
Your incorrigibility
And history so long
Go back into your hole
Or smoke another bong
I belong to another
You're A liar
You said you were my brother
But no you are not
You simply lie a lot
I will not be tempted
By your false reality
You're the one who lied to Eve
About the fruit upon the tree
You've not been satisfied
Since your fall from grace
I will simply choose
A softer warm embrace
I'm not on the fence
Not even close not at all
I way over here
On the other side of the wall
The spectrum has two ends
One is love and grace
The other is dark
And surely will fall
No thanks
I'll stay over here
With the lamb standing tall
And accept his protection
Blessed protection from it all
I think I'll stay right here
And wait for God to call
You see Heaven is big and grand
Hell is small and bland
Remember the foundation
Was on the rock
And not the sand
You can never wash away
His love or his hand
He is the way the truth and the life
You offer ugliness pain and strife
I've clearly made my choice
I'll answer the call of the Almighty voice
I've got the best insurance money can buy
I've got the Big Guy up in the sky
So I look at it like this
Hell sucks
But Heaven is bliss
So serpent my ass you can kiss
Because I'm not going to miss
My ticket into the gate
Where St. Peter does await
I'll chose the better fate
Besides Heaven puts better food on the plate
Hell has no such planIt's a garbage can
Hell has no telephone booth
The Dark One has no couth
You see God has a phone
Near the throne
On the wall
And he always answers the call
This telephone service is free
It will last through infinity
But make no mistake
It came with a heavy cost
The Lambs earthly life was lost
He bled human blood for we
So we could get in for free

I would like to introduce you all to a couple of God's soldiers who are fighting the good fight. Papaleng and AC Hamilton III. I also have discovered a couple of master poets in Brick Parker, Trisha and Christine Ramsey invite you to pay them a visit. Also I want to throw in a little plug for one of my first friends, SA Johnston, who has a great story going now called Dark Love. I of course thank all the other friends who have helped so much, most especially, Lauren, Debbie Mann, Bren Parks, Allison and Christy Tuller. Amazing ladies, all. I might write a thank you article and include every friend and fan. Oops, I forgot Morgana and Ca Johnston, who will keep you up on Hollywood stuff and daytime TV. Morgana is simply outstanding. If I didn't mention anyone's name, I will later, all these people are in my friends box, hope I spelled all their names right.

To read more from BoJack454 please followthis link https://www.triond.com/users/BoJack454
Here are some more articles by this author:
My Lady, My Love http://www.authspot.com/Poetry/My-Lady-My-Love.446889
The House Of Pain http://www.authspot.com/Poetry/The-House-of-Pain.446283

Bad Day

2009-01-06T09:39:00.000-08:00

by Jaywergin, Nov 24, 2008
The title explains it.
Split personalities,
Come on.
Anxiety,
Tag along.
Corrupted minds,
Belong.
Broken hearts,
Sing along.
Right time,
Wrong way.
Morbid minds
Cliché.
Nightmares,
Array.
Good dreams,
Decay.
Front line,
Shot first.
Good life,
Reversed.
Depressed,
Since birth.
Diving,
Head first.
Disease,
A must.
Nobody,
To trust.
Red roses,
Florist.
Fall in love,
Taunt us.

To read more from Jaywergin please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Jaywergin

Calling on Jenny

2009-01-05T10:07:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Aug 12, 2008
Cree and Reese go on a vacation to Chicago to visit their friend Jenny.
“Are we almost there?” Reese asked, jostling me awake from my sleep.
Groggy and annoyed by his boyish behavior, I said, “I don't care where we are.”
“Come on, Cree, wake up.”
I lifted my head and looked out the window. “I think we're there.”
“I just hope Jenny's here already,” Reese said, looking over my head. “I hate waiting.”
“And hate hearing you complain.”
“Last stop, Chicago, Illinois,” the driver shouted over his microphone.
Reese howled out a loud hurrah, sending my ears ringing. With his outlandish behavior, topped with the smell of gasoline and the incoherent chatter of the other passengers, even I would be relieved to be off this bus.
When we finally pulled into the depot, I was the one secretly nominated to carry both our suitcases. I felt like a porter as I watched Reese fly off the bus with nothing but a piece of paper.
“What's that?”
“Well, could it be a letter?”
“Very funny, Reese?” I mean, who's it from?”
“Just Jenny pledging her undying love for me.”
“Don't listen to him Cree. Your boyfriend can be full of himself.”
“Jenny,” I shouted, turning to see her just behind us. I set the bags down. Mine, the heavier one landed on Reese foot. We embraced, squealing out our hellos while Reese howled in pain. Jenny and I both laughed at Reese.
“Hey, that's not funny.”
Still laughing, I said, “Oh, yes it is, and that's payback, mister.”
“For what?” he asked, still nursing his foot.
“For not being a gentleman,” Jenny said, let out a giggle. “Shame on you for making Cree carry your bag.” Pointing at him, “You should be carrying hers.”
“Okay, okay,” Reese said, picking up both suitcases. “Girls!” he fumed.
We walked out of the depot talking about our days at the Drell Institute. Reese and I had become best friends with Jenny. We were known as the three musketeers. Although it had only been a few months since Jenny moved to Chicago with her father, I was amazed at how much she had changed.
“So what's with the make-over?” I asked her.
“I'm in disguise. Dad says we can't be conspicuous. The big city isn't the best place to be a blue-faced teenager. It would too weird.”
“Why not? There's nothing weird about that.”
“Sure, Reese,” Jenny said, “whatever you say.”
Suddenly a gang of boys approached us. “Hey, demon girl, what's with the disguise?”
“Sorry, Freddie,” Jenny said, stepping up to him, “but you'll have to find somebody else to play with.”
“You can't turn us down, freak. When we want something, we get it.”
“Wanna say that to me?” Reese said, stepping in front of Jenny. “Take me on and leave the girls alone.”
“No deal. It's me and the demon.”
Suddenly, Jenny shed her disguise, showing her true form. With the presence of her bluish pigments and razor-sharp claws, she lunged at Freddie, slamming him against a brick wall.
“Haven't you learned, Feddie? Violence doesn't solve anything.”
She walked away from him, but he sneaked up on her toppling her to the ground. Reese and I would have helped her, but the rest of gang surrounded us.
“So,” I shouted to Reese, “I thought this was supposed to be a nice boring vacation.”
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“Not for us, Cree,” he said, forcing his way through the wall the gang boys created with their bodies, but they tugged him back before he could make any leeway.
An idea popped into my head. I dropped to the ground, placing my hands on the cement. I remembered that the first thing we learned at the Drell Institute was focus. Using my special gift of matter transformation, I concentrated on the ground around me. Suddenly, it started to moisten, sending the gang boys under.
“Help us,” one of them shouted.
In the tiny circle of liquid cement that was more like quicksand, Reese looked at me and said, “We can't kill them, Cree. You've got to stop them from sinking.”
“All right. Give me a second.”
I concentrated further, putting my hands on the wet cement. Suddenly it started to dry, fusing the gang boys into the ground.
As I looked up, I saw that Jenny was still fighting Freddie.
“Haven't you learned, Freddie? It's not nice to beat up on girls, because we beat back,” she said, raising him up and throwing him in the center of his trapped friends. “I don't join gangs. Understand?”
“Pathetic,” Reese said with a laugh. “So what do you do for fun around here?”
We walked down the streets of Chicago, showing our true selves. A few people stared, but we didn't care. We were used to it. Even though we were born with special talents, Reese and I had always had been able to blend in with normal population, but Jenny was forced to wear disguises when mingling with normals.
As we turned down the street leading to her home, I wondered what other surprises we would discover calling on Jenny.

Tortured Mind

2008-12-30T09:08:00.000-08:00

by WritersPassion, Dec 1, 2008
Looks deep into a writer's mind.
I sit here alone, blinded by the dark.
The words that I write, are to reach someones heart.
The pain in my soul, is not for the weak.
The pain in my mind, I wish not to keep.
I continue on, like a madman, insane.
Will I make it through, just one more day.
To do what I do, is like living a lie.
To walk in my shoes, you surely would die.
I see the demons, all through my head.
The demons of the past, are the ones that I dread.
Will I survie, can I be normal.
Or will the demons take over, my head so informal.
What do I do, I just want to scream.
Can I wake up, is it a dream.
This is no dream, it's my reality.
So I write it down, for the world to see.

To read more from Writer's Passion please click here https://www.triond.com/users/WritersPassion

Grandfather Gave Me a Gift

2008-12-22T09:46:00.000-08:00

by Glynis Smy, Dec 21, 2008
I often write by hand, rather than keyboard, I use an ink pen my Grandfather bought me when I wrote my first poem as a child. I am fortunate as he invested in a brand that I can refill as it is quite a few years old now. This my tribute to that gift, I always feel my Grandfather is a little closer when I use it.
Oh Mistress take me!
I will earn my crust,
please allow me time,
I will earn your trust.
Push me, work me!
I will lay down my soul,
please allow me time,
let not fatigue take its toll.
Force my flowing fluid,
I will prove my worth,
please allow me time,
to words I will give birth.
Lay me down to rest,
I have fulfilled my task,
please allow me time,
I have done as you did ask.

For more from Glynis please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy

Julia

2008-12-11T09:39:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Dec 10, 2008
This was written for a girl I knew in high school who died at the age of sixteen.
When we were children
We dreamed of another day,
Playing dress-up with our mother's clothes,
With over-sized shoes that never seemed to fit.
We laughed, believing we would never grow old.
Dear Julia, how did you know?
Something changed on that journey to the grown up world.
Worlds apart, you took the dangerous path.
Too many years passed without you,
My dearest Julia.
Come and save me from my grief.
Like the fiery bird flying from the ash.
The Phoenix you became.
Becoming the creature, the flames destined to burn out.
Begone, I sing to my forgotten sun.
Never a lucid being were you meant to be.
Another day, another way, you might.
Rise, sweet Julia.
Say goodbye to the moon.
The tambourine man lives here no more.
His song was a prayer that cut to the core.
Give me a day, a moment to be a child with you again.
A pray to the sun.
Give us a world of innocence, one without sin.
There are no more chances for our Julia.
I can see.
What I would give to join you, my sweet Julia.
No more would I be
Champion to your victim.
But like a fiery bird, you have fled to the ash.
Goodbye, mystical Phoenix.
All proof of you now lives in the past.
Julia now sleeps.
No more pain befalls her.
I pray the lord her soul to keep.

For more by Allison Jae please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Allison+Jae
As always please click on the title of the poem to see it's original form.

Petrified Forest

2008-12-10T09:56:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Nov 19, 2008
Another one of those crazy poems.
Alone in my room
Consumed by the darkness.
The lonely flicker of the light
Flashes from the clock radio.
I stare into the light,
My eyes squinting.
I dare not look away.
This is my future, this darkness.
Day after day, the bulb grows dimmer.
Soon, the light will fade away.
Into oblivion, it must retreat.
All senses minus one must live.
Seeing without Seeing
In this petrified forest of nowhere.
Swords clash.
Demons die.
In this forest of dreams I am all things,
Nothing.
In the valley of one
I choose the players.
No friends, no enemies, I have none.
Only me in my illusion...in my dream.

To read more from Allison please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Allison+Jae

The Love of my Life

2008-12-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

by WritersPassion, Dec 7, 2008
For my daughter.
With a world gone wrong, she’s the voice of the future.
With the smile on her face, you see a girl who’s so sure.
Look in her eyes, the color of the sea.
Those beautiful eyes, a version of me.
When things go wrong, she gives me a kiss.
With her on my side, there’s no way to miss.
A delicate flower, you handle with care.
A beautiful person, daddy’s always there.
When the worlds too hard, she runs to my arms.
I hold her close, like a good luck charm.
I look to the sky, to the Heavens above.
And give thanks for a daughter, so easy to love.
When life goes wrong, I look in the eyes.
Of my beautiful daughter, and know I’m alive.

To read more from Writerspassion please click here https://www.triond.com/users/WritersPassion

Dear Grandma

2008-12-08T09:44:00.000-08:00

by Jaywergin, Nov 24, 2008
I miss you.
Dear Grandma,
Life has changed drastically since you have left.
It’s crazy how someone could be gone in a split second.
I wish I could see you for just one more day.
I know exactly what I would say.
You’re so amazing, caring, loving and kind.
You’re the greatest person who ever lived, in my mind.
I carry on your name everyday,
And try to respond with kind words you would say.
I like to tell other people about you,
I think maybe your words can help them too.
Grandma I know it was hard for you to lose your vision.
It must have made your creative mind feel like it was in prison.
You kept a smile on your face and managed,
But now you’re in a better place and your problems have vanished.
You can now open your eyes and see everything clearly,
And read and do other things that you loved dearly.
Grandma your family misses you so much.
Your beautiful smile and your gentle touch.
Your kind words that mean so much,
Why does life have to be so tough?
I fell to the bottom I know you saw it all.
I’m sorry I never wanted you to see your grandson fall.
When you start going down the hill you can always go up,
I wouldn’t let myself be held down from my slipup.
I looked into the sky and asked you for assistance,
Then you brought her to me in an instant.
You helped me realize I could be better than that,
And gave me confidence to bring my life back.
I am so grateful everyday,
That I have you, her and our whole family.
I’ll never forget you
Grandma you are amazing,
Your spirit is definitely worth praising.
I love you Grandma.
Love,
Jay

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Deserve You

2008-12-02T09:56:00.001-08:00

by Jackie Stroud Painter, Dec 1, 2008
Written for someone when I thought the relationship could be more.
The only thing that I think is
Even if I could be
With you
I don't deserve you
You got it all
I have nothing
People want you
They don't want me
You have a talent
I can write sentences
People know who you are
They don't want me around
You are a gift to everyone
Regardless if they hear it
You speak volumes through
All your songs you sing
You are you and
I don't deserve you

For more from Jackie please click here: https://www.triond.com/users/Jackie+Stroud+Painter

Christmas

2008-11-26T11:28:00.000-08:00

by Rebecca Anne Grant, Dec 1, 2007
I just love Christmas and all that it brings with it, and I wish that it could last forever.
Boxes with ribbons and big bright bows.
Little children with faces full of glows.
Blinking lights and tinsel, sparkling on just the right tree.
The shaking of presents.
“Oh what could it be?”
A Santa on every corner. “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
People running here and there, to and fro.
Gifts for needy children being collected by those who care.
The feeling of love, felt in the air.
The talk of snow by everyone you meet.
Saying “Merry Christmas” to a stranger on the street.
The drinking of Egg Nog, a Christmas tradition.
The story of Jesus, a must have addition.
Under the mistletoe, with the one you love dear.
Hugging your children and pulling them near.
Christmas, what a feeling, it brings people together.
“Why can’t everyday be like it, now and forever?”

For more by Rebecca Anne Grant please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Rebecca+Anne+Grant

Whiffy Hamish

2008-11-25T11:25:00.000-08:00

by Rachel Stirling, Sep 3, 2008
About our dog Hamish.
Hamish is our pooch
He is the very best
Although he is a Rottie
He's as soft as they get.
I trust him with my life
The gentle giant boy.
The only danger to him
Are his farts ahoy ahoy.
If you get a whiff
Evacuate the room.
For his farts are toxic
And would probably go
BOOM.

For more by Rachel Stirling please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Rachel+Stirling

What's Left of Me

2008-11-24T11:21:00.000-08:00

by Ruben Etienne, Oct 11, 2008
After a break up there might be little left. Here's what's left of me.
Sometimes my dear I cannot stand you,
But there is no possible way I can stand without you,
I was a mere shell of a man until you blessed my life with your presence,
Every waking moment has been dedicated to your loveliness,
God must've had me in mind when he made you,
Innocently you raise my spirit whenever I am down,
I was half of the man you see now,
I would be none of the man if you were to go.

For more by Ruben Eteinne please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Ruben+Etienne

Distant Hills of Time

2008-11-20T09:09:00.000-08:00

by Glynis Smy, Nov 19, 2008
The mountains and hills of Cyprus hold many secrets and every year the secret feeds us all.
Distant hills of time
Jagged rocks hold close,
the secrets of days gone by,
Mountainous layers divine, reveal,
show history to this absorbing mind,
delight my soul, break through the clouds
release your vibrant energy.
Foot trodden mounds and beaten ground,
life erupts from beneath your beating heart,
sustenance and beauty combine,
dressing green, distant hills of time.
Voices from the past,
echo around your creviced paths,
whispers of time gone by,
the lushness of your body sustains,
breathes life from distant hills of time.

There is a beautiful photo with the original poem. I highly recomend that you click the title of the poem so you can view it as well!- MrsT

To see more from Glynis please visit her here https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy

Danny the Lama 1: Inspirational Thoughts from the Guru of Modern Society

2008-11-19T08:27:00.000-08:00

by Aaron Hanlon, Nov 19, 2008

Funny thoughts for the day.

The true measure of a man is how badly he can treat someone who can do him no harm to him what so ever.
When a good person is troubled, an angel descends from heaven to remind them just how worthless they truly are and the good person bows their head in shame.
When a bad person is troubled an angel descends from heaven and is promptly told to sod off.
Abandoning gossip to spare the feeling of others is a pointless endeavour. Be sure, they are all talking about you anyway so beat them to it and spread the word.
Kicking others when they are down is the only sure way of staying on top.
Find your local Biodiesel supplier and ridicule them. For they only want to save the world for the rising animal armies of the world. And remember a monkey would put you in a cage if it could.
The strength of a man's virtue should not be measured by his special exertions but rather by his habitual acts. (I don't know what this means either.)
If all the land were turned to burgers and all the seas to pop and all the forests to Swizzle sticks, it still could not feed the gluttony of Texas. So say's the holy Lama, (Not me of course. I think the heavily armed Texan's are lovely)
Everything in the universe is connected. You cannon separate any part from the whole. Although the tax man will try very hard.
These are the words of the one true Danny the lama.

Calling on Jenny

2008-11-17T09:27:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Aug 12, 2008
Cree and Reese go on a vacation to Chicago to visit their friend Jenny.

“Are we almost there?” Reese asked, jostling me awake from my sleep.
Groggy and annoyed by his boyish behavior, I said, “I don't care where we are.”
“Come on, Cree, wake up.”
I lifted my head and looked out the window. “I think we're there.”
“I just hope Jenny's here already,” Reese said, looking over my head. “I hate waiting.”
“And hate hearing you complain.”
“Last stop, Chicago, Illinois,” the driver shouted over his microphone.
Reese howled out a loud hurrah, sending my ears ringing. With his outlandish behavior, topped with the smell of gasoline and the incoherent chatter of the other passengers, even I would be relieved to be off this bus.
When we finally pulled into the depot, I was the one secretly nominated to carry both our suitcases. I felt like a porter as I watched Reese fly off the bus with nothing but a piece of paper.
“What's that?”
“Well, could it be a letter?”
“Very funny, Reese?” I mean, who's it from?”
“Just Jenny pledging her undying love for me.”
“Don't listen to him Cree. Your boyfriend can be full of himself.”
“Jenny,” I shouted, turning to see her just behind us. I set the bags down. Mine, the heavier one landed on Reese foot. We embraced, squealing out our hellos while Reese howled in pain. Jenny and I both laughed at Reese.
“Hey, that's not funny.”
Still laughing, I said, “Oh, yes it is, and that's payback, mister.”
“For what?” he asked, still nursing his foot.
“For not being a gentleman,” Jenny said, let out a giggle. “Shame on you for making Cree carry your bag.” Pointing at him, “You should be carrying hers.”
“Okay, okay,” Reese said, picking up both suitcases. “Girls!” he fumed.
We walked out of the depot talking about our days at the Drell Institute. Reese and I had become best friends with Jenny. We were known as the three musketeers. Although it had only been a few months since Jenny moved to Chicago with her father, I was amazed at how much she had changed.
“So what's with the make-over?” I asked her.
“I'm in disguise. Dad says we can't be conspicuous. The big city isn't the best place to be a blue-faced teenager. It would too weird.”
“Why not? There's nothing weird about that.”
“Sure, Reese,” Jenny said, “whatever you say.”
Suddenly a gang of boys approached us. “Hey, demon girl, what's with the disguise?”
“Sorry, Freddie,” Jenny said, stepping up to him, “but you'll have to find somebody else to play with.”
“You can't turn us down, freak. When we want something, we get it.”
“Wanna say that to me?” Reese said, stepping in front of Jenny. “Take me on and leave the girls alone.”
“No deal. It's me and the demon.”
Suddenly, Jenny shed her disguise, showing her true form. With the presence of her bluish pigments and razor-sharp claws, she lunged at Freddie, slamming him against a brick wall.
“Haven't you learned, Feddie? Violence doesn't solve anything.”
She walked away from him, but he sneaked up on her toppling her to the ground. Reese and I would have helped her, but the rest of gang surrounded us.
“So,” I shouted to Reese, “I thought this was supposed to be a nice boring vacation.”
“Not for us, Cree,” he said, forcing his way through the wall the gang boys created with their bodies, but they tugged him back before he could make any leeway.
An idea popped into my head. I dropped to the ground, placing my hands on the cement. I remembered that the first thing we learned at the Drell Institute was focus. Using my special gift of matter transformation, I concentrated on the ground around me. Suddenly, it started to moisten, sending the gang boys under.
“Help us,” one of them shouted.
In the tiny circle of liquid cement that was more like quicksand, Reese looked at me and said, “We can't kill them, Cree. You've got to stop them from sinking.”
“All right. Give me a second.”
I concentrated further, putting my hands on the wet cement. Suddenly it started to dry, fusing the gang boys into the ground.
As I looked up, I saw that Jenny was still fighting Freddie.
“Haven't you learned, Freddie? It's not nice to beat up on girls, because we beat back,” she said, raising him up and throwing him in the center of his trapped friends. “I don't join gangs. Understand?”
“Pathetic,” Reese said with a laugh. “So what do you do for fun around here?”
We walked down the streets of Chicago, showing our true selves. A few people stared, but we didn't care. We were used to it. Even though we were born with special talents, Reese and I had always had been able to blend in with normal population, but Jenny was forced to wear disguises when mingling with normals.
As we turned down the street leading to her home, I wondered what other surprises we would discover calling on Jenny.

For more from Allison Jae please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Allison+Jae

My Baby

2008-11-16T09:25:00.000-08:00

by Rebecca Anne Grant, Aug 3, 2008
Written back when I was pregnant with my Michael.
Little one that I can not see,
I feel you growing inside of me.
Getting stronger each and every day.
Close and safe in every way.
With your hiccups as my surprise.
You can now open up your eyes.
I laugh at all your kicks and punches.
For you’re my baby and I love you bunches.

For more from Rebecca please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Rebecca+Anne+Grant

Badass Chick

2008-11-15T09:13:00.000-08:00

by Anderson Brothers, Aug 24, 2008
A girl I was involved with a long time ago.
She’s not one to talk real soft or act all cool.
But listen when I say she rules.
Not a lot of men could take her on.
Cause she walks with a rhythm and talks like a song.
Eyes that cut you oh so deep.
A memory she will let you keep.
Not many stand long.
Cause she walks with a rhythm and talks like a song.
Mind as sharps as a whip’s crack.
Heart as soft as a baby’s back.
You better not treat her wrong.
Cause she walks with rhythm and talks like a song.
And even if she lets you in.
You hold her close and call her friend.
Always remember her will is strong.
Cause she walks with a rhythm and talks like a song.

For more from the Anderson Brothers please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Anderson+Brothers

Grape Tomato

2008-11-14T09:10:00.000-08:00

by diane mccloskey, Jan 20, 2008
So good, you can just eat it up!
How does a grape tomato get it's shape?
How does a grape tomato get it's shape?
Is it a tomato crossed with a grape?
Why is a kiwi all covered in fuzz?
Would you say it's like that…just because?
How do you know if a pepper is hot?
If it doesn't burn your tongue, then it is not?
How about a grapefruit--can you tell if it's sweet?
Can you judge this from the outside or not "till you eat?
How about bananas, are they yellow or green?(A favorite for many, if you know what I mean!)And what is this okra, and how do you make it?
For heaven"s sake, don't boil it, just fry it or bake it!
And what do you do with spaghetti squash now?
The best that you can, the best you know how!
Green beans are veggies and melons are fruit,
We want you to eat right because you're so cute!

For more from Diane please click here https://www.triond.com/users/diane+mccloskey

Finding a Needle in a Haystack and Other Dumb Things

2008-11-13T08:57:00.000-08:00

by B Nelson, Mar 2, 2008

There are a lot of important things in the world to concern yourself with. These are not any of those things.

Finding a Needle in a Hay Stack
First thing you need to do is determine that you are looking in a Haystack... Most people cannot tell the difference between hay and straw! Hay is what animals eat, it is green. Straw is what you sit on when you go on a "hayride" ( I know it makes no sense), Straw is yellow. Make sure you select your stack accordingly.
Needle selection is key too. Knitting needles are preferable over sewing needles. They are bigger, not as sharp, and come in bright colors.
Proper Attire is a MUST! This is not a project to do in your bathing suit. Wear a hat and gloves. Heck, wear clothes on your entire body. Hay is scratchy stuff.
Start with the last piece of hay first. You know how things are always in the last place you look for them, well to simplify things I suggest starting in the last place first.
Pick each piece of hay up in your hand and scrutinize it thoroughly. Roll it over in your hand to check both sides.
Scan it with a magnet for metal sewing needles.
Crumble it up to make sure the needle is not hidden inside. Then discard to another area, and proceed with the next piece.
Repeat until you have either found the needle or until the Haystack is gone.
If you have not found the needle and the stack is gone. Go to your nearest store and buy a needle. What crazy fool is so desperate for a needle they search a haystack for one?
Chickens and Eggs
Eggs came first. No question about it. Dinosaurs had been laying eggs for millions of years long before the first chicken ever did. Not to mention their eggs were bigger, so that should count for something.
Woodchucks and Chucking
How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a Woodchuck could chuck wood?He would not chuck wood even if he could chuck wood, probably he would just sit back and watch Television. Probably not even an outdoorsy or woodsy show, and definitely not Golf!
If white milk comes from white cows, where does chocolate milk come from?It comes from brown cows obviously.
Peter and his Peck of Pickled Peppers.
I have never heard of Pickled Peppers so we will call this one an urban legend and leave it at that.
Zebras and their Stripes
More hairs are white, their tummies are white, but their skin is black so either answer to the question regarding zebras and their color are correct. I would be more concerned with finding that darned needle.
"Does anybody really know what time it is, does anybody really care?"It is 8:53 PM. I really don't care if anybody cares or not. They should not ask such a careless question if they don't care!!! Whoops I was mistaken, it's 8:54 PM, sorry about that, I perhaps was careless myself.
The Blue Sky
It is blue because it has nothing else to do except look down at the mess we have made of the planet. This is also why it is brightly colored in the morning and full of hope for day. Occasionally it cries. I think the sky was in fact pinkish back in the time of the Dinosaurs, when they were laying eggs and all that. Oh by the way, it is now 8:56 PM.
The Great Vacuum of Space
Where is this thing, and if it's so powerful why hasn't it cleaned my house? I mean really - ALL of space and it cannot clean my house? Come on... Scientists are wrong about this one! There is NO vacuum in space, and if there is, it certainly is not that great.
The Right Side of The Bed
To solve this problem, simply do not sleep in a bed. The floor or sofa will do nicely. In a pinch you can always sleep in a nice pile of straw... NOT HAY!

For more by B. Nelson please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/B+Nelson

Sealed with a Kiss

2008-11-12T10:47:00.000-08:00

by Liane Schmidt, Nov 3, 2008
A lifelong promise.
Intoxicated by your gaze
My spirit feels lighter,
My future brighter
Like a heaven sent ray
You have reignited a hopeful passion
An innocent love
Suddenly set, aflameI feel carried away
Swept a hundred million miles
From the grayest day
Your arms circled my form
And we made a wish
And we watched the bride and groom
Seal it with the promise
Of a lifelong kiss.

For more from Lianne Shmidt please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Liane+Schmidt

Admiration and Gratitude

2008-11-11T08:52:00.000-08:00

by Glynis Smy, Aug 26, 2008
Dedicated to those who allow me to live my life as I wish, to those who defend our shores, to all who serve the countries they love.
Admiration and gratitude,
I walk in the sun
You are unknown to me, yet in the world we are one
I am beholding to you,
I offer you these things
My thanks as I hear the sweet tune a bird sings
Concern and thoughts I have a few
I sit and listen and share a view.
Allowing me that gift, giving my life chance
Is a stranger and never will we share a glance
I have never suffered but owe you my life
You allow me to live as mother and wife
Each day you are in my mind
Unknown Soldier I hope peace you find.
I hope that soon you are on homeland shores
And you are with loved ones, free from wars
Please know this stranger prays
For those who allow me perfect days
To you I give thanks for my daily chores
My gratitude and admiration are all yours

A Huge thank you to all our Veterans! With out you we would not have the freedoms we have today. God Bless! - MrsT

Please take the time to visit more of Glynis' writings as well as her blogs! Links can be found on this blog. Or click here for her Triond Profile https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy

The Ice Queen Frolics

2008-11-10T09:27:00.000-08:00

by Allison Jae, Oct 30, 2008
Erika and Emily had never seen snow, but when these strange white flakes came falling from the sky the people of their village saw it as a sign of death,remembering the old legend of the evil winter witch.

“It's the end of the world,”a man shouted through the village. Emily ran to her window to witness the commotion. She giggled, her blond curls bouncing back and forth. She jumped up and down while kneeling on a tiny wicker chair.
“What's so funny?” her older sister Erika asked.
“Go away. I'm watching the clown,” Emily said, still bouncing up and down.
Let me see,” Erika said,pushing her sister out of the way. She got a good look at what intrigued Emily so much. “What's that white stuff?”
“Snow,”Emily sang. “Snow! Snow! Snow!” she sang,while dancing around the room.“Snow, snow, snow,” was all she could say.
“Emily,stop saying that,”Erika shouted.
“I don't have to,”she said.”It's not my fault I know what the white stuff is,and you don't.”
“Do so,”Erika fired at her sister. “It's snow.”
“Yea,you know,only 'cause I said so. Erika don't know. Erika don't know.” Emily continued to tease her sister.
Emily was right that her sister didn't know what the white stuff was. No one in the village of Danue did. For as along as legend proved, once it did,the world would end.
Erika noticed the mayhem filling the people of Danue. To five year old Emily, it was a game. The snow, the frightened villagers,even the forbidden woods. Emily liked wandering off into the woods to play, claiming that she heard voices. Twelve year old Erika never believed her, but now she wondered.
The next morning when Erika woke she found her sister gone. Erika looked out the window only to see the blinding blanket of snow, but no people filled the once happy village. Erika made a run for the door, but when she opened the door, a rush of cold air chilled her senses. She never felt winds like this before. She went into the bedroom and piled on as many clothes as she could.
Never having experienced cold weather, her wardrobe made her unprepared for the winds that would nip the skin. She ignored her shivers as much as she could, instead worrying about where Emily might have run off to.
“Emily,” she called, trudging through the woods. The snow had reached her knees making it hard for her to walk.
She could find no footprints to help her search, but she did find something of color peeking out from the snow. She ran towards it to see what it was.
“Emily's rag doll,”she said.
Erika staggered on until she reached a clearing. She heard the laughter of a little girl and knew instantly that it was Emily, but when she reached the sight where the child was playing she beheld a lady in white with light blue skin and eyes of night wearing a crown of ice.
She looked into the face of her sister to see that she had changed. “Emily,”Erika cried. Emily had changed. Her face was pale and her hair was the color of snow. “Emily, help me.”
“Who is Emily?” the little girl asked. She looked up at the lady in white. “Mother, who is Emily?”
“No one, dear child,” the lady in white said, kneeling down the look into the child's eyes. She stood upright and took the child's hand. “Come, now. We must go.”
“No, Emily,”Erika cried. “Help me. Please, remember.”
“We must help her,Mother.”
“No, she wishes to take you away. Begone, evil one.”The lady in white conjured in her hands sharp ice javelins and threw them towards Erika.
“Please,Mother, don't hurt her.”
“Emily,make her stop. Please, ma'am. Don't take my sister. She's all I have.”
A tear came into the lady's eyes as Emily ran towards her sister.”Oh, Erika, I hope you're not hurt.”Emily looked back on the cold creature with pity.”Please,don't be sad. Erika needs me.”
“If you go you will not return.”
“Why not? Do you not want me to return?”
“Of course, Emily, and do bring your sister if she wishes.”
“Yes, Ma'am,” Erika said, staggering towards the lady.”You are the Ice Queen, the keeper of Winter.”
“Yes, Erika. Emily had awakened me from my sleep. Winter now must consume the land as it did not for so many years.”
“Please, your majesty, return the land to its former self.”
“But winter must come.”
“Then let it come,” Erika said,suddenly kneeling before the ice queen.”But at the proper time. Now, it is spring, so let it be spring. When it is winter let it be winter.”
“So be it. Leave me to my rest, but I will return. Winter will come as it should. Take this candle. The flame will burn until winter comes. Then you must return to wake me. Good-bye,sweet children.”
The Ice Queen returned to her cave where the sisters could hear her blissful sounds of sleep. Slowly, the snow started to disappear and the warm air of the sun embraced all it touched.
The sisters returned to their village to witness a joyous celebration in the streets. The people were happy again. Winter would return,but there would be no grim death the people once feared.
The sisters carried the blue flame of winter, happy in their task as helpers of the Snow Queen.

To read more from Allison Jae please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Allison+Jae

Greater Than All

2008-11-09T08:37:00.000-08:00

by Ruben Etienne, Jul 27, 2008
The height of obtainment.
The pinnacle of life,
The prime of success,
The height of obtainment,
Pale in comparison 2 u,
The stars in the sky cannot shine as bright as your beauty,
The sun hides in the clouds shamed because you shine brighter,
Nature and doves r swayed by the enchanting words that cross your lips,
A replica made of diamond shunned 4 failing 2 catch your gracefulness
You bless me w/ your love, though I am less than worthy
When lost in darkness, u shine so bright darkness is 4ever exiled
You are the light of my soul, the fairest that I no

Pages and Pages

2008-11-08T08:35:00.000-08:00

by Jackie Stroud Painter, Jul 21, 2008
My heart on paper.
Pages and pages
Of words
You’ll never see
Because
You didn’t see me
Words of love
Words from the soul
You sparked a fire
Words in my heart
Love making and laughing
Together or apart
Words of you
What could have been us
Pages of words
That means nothing to you
Words of me
Put on these pages
For you to see
But you won’t see
All because it’s me

For more from Jackie please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Jackie+Stroud+Painter

Rose

2008-11-07T10:29:00.000-08:00

by Rachel Stirling, Aug 31, 2008
Red roses captivate me.
Roses are red like wine
Beauty encaptured in solid form
The petals are falling like grapes off a vine
Roses are Red like wine.
There scent is so fresh and so divine
Roses are Red like wine
Filled with love and and broken within time
Roses are Red like wine
To be alive is to be like a Rose midst bloom

For more wonderful writings by Rachel please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Rachel+Stirling

You Know Who You are

2008-11-06T10:22:00.000-08:00

by diane mccloskey, Nov 5, 2008
One's true colors often display themselves in a crisis. Sometimes they are rainbow-like; sometimes they're not so pretty.

If you had the chance to help me in life,
To overcome some rough spot, some moment of strife
Would you help me out in my time of need?
Or would you let me down--because of your greed?
To say something one way and then mince your words,
To say then, “No, sorry, that's not what you heard….”
You say you will help in each possible way…
Did you mean that for now--or for some other day?
You assure me I'm there in your prayers every night
But I still find your God hasn't made all things right
So if given the chance to help out--would you do it?
Or would you just stand back and hope I get through it?
It takes a big person to say when they're wrong
And I thought you would help me, I did, all along--
So the question still faces you,
Take a look deep--
Are you a kind person
or are you a creep?

To read more from Diane McClosky please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/diane+mccloskey

Sticky Sandwiches

2008-11-05T14:47:00.000-08:00

by Glynis Smy, May 28, 2008
Memories of my childhood, the title rolls around my tongue and I have decided it will be the title of my second poetry book, when I get around to writing it.
When I was a child on a sunny day
In fields of gold I'd run and play
My kingdom an immortal place
Amongst wild flowers I'd skip and chase
Gathering wood to make a home
Amongst each ditch and hedge I'd roam
Sandwiches sticky in paper bag
Tatty doll on ground I'd drag
I'd play for hours with imagined friend
Oh how I wished those days would never end
Then trotting home through the gate
To the reality of life, I was never late
I knew the rules of my parents' home
In the days when it was safe to play alone

* This poem reminds me so much of my childhood. I only wish that my kids could grow up the same way.- MrsT

For more from Glynis click here https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy

What I Am

2008-11-05T08:26:00.000-08:00

by Anderson Brothers, Oct 27, 2008
Terror fills the hollow soul...

Running back with no place to go.
Fighting onto endless grace.
Heat and torn, too much to face.
Why so sad in your place?
Despite my anger, my pain, my shame.
You came, you saw, I was never the same.
Empty center with a joyous mask.
A lie you shattered, oh at last.
Bared it all out to be seen.
Can't Hide, not a single thing.
This fallen mirth, you raised up.
This broken glass, you filled this cup.
Fears calmed with my reason loved.
Can't flee or get free of.
My emotions real, not a lie.
Heaven and earth, there grows a tie.
You found me in that darken place.
You smiled at me and touched my face.
No words express or tears match.
Hate, hurt, sorrow you dispatched.
What faith you had in me first.
Even when your name I cursed.
I cried out why and looked away.
Yet here you are, and here you stay
God, you loved the monster before the man.
Not what I was but what I am.

To read more from the Anderson Brothers please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Anderson+Brothers

The Six Most Ridiculous Awards (That Nobody Wants to Win...)

2008-11-04T08:35:00.000-08:00

This is a wonderful article with great photos so please click the title to see the whole thing. It's worth the read!

by valli, Feb 29, 2008

Winning an award is usually prestigious and often makes the people who win them famous. Most awards are given for excellence in a particular field, but some of them are given for being the worst in something. Here is a list of such ridiculous awards.

To see more by Valli please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/valli

The Many Meanings of the Kiss

2008-11-02T09:31:00.000-08:00

by Rebecca Anne Grant, Sep 27, 2008
It's really funny how many of them there are and that most of them go unnoticed by others who are not the givers or receivers.
What is a kiss?But a way of self-expression.You kiss to say hello; you kiss to say goodbye.You kiss when you are happy; you even kiss when you cry.You kiss your mother; you kiss your friend.You kiss your baby from the beginning and you kiss your dying loved one in the end.You kiss at your wedding, sealing your unite.You kiss your children, while telling them goodnight.Some even kiss their dog, as if he really cares.Some kiss others just to satisfy what someone dares.There are birds who spend all day giving a kiss to each other.There are animals who lick their young as if they know a kiss is supposed to come from a mother.A kiss can be blown straight across a room and caught in another's hand.I have even seen some farmers get down on the ground, just to kiss their land.Kisses have many meanings and they all seem to do something, in a way.How many kisses do you give and receive? Who or what will you kiss today?

For more from Rebecca Anne Grant please follow these links https://www.triond.com/users/Rebecca+Anne+Grant & http://rebecca-anne-grant.tripod.com

Take It Away

2008-11-01T09:27:00.000-07:00

by Aaron Hanlon, Oct 29, 2008
One evening night so wet and dreary...
One evening night so wet and dreary,
Bum hurt so bad it made me teary.
Was it the pizza with chilli spice?
Or the Kung Po Chicken with egg fried rice,
Perhaps the kebab did the damage,
That corrosive burn it feels so savage.
Until I stop how can I know?
If it was the burger I got from greasy Joe.
The pain, the agony I can take no more,
This John Wayne strut is such a bore,
So now it's time to say goodbye,
To both the deep and shallow fry,
No more the nights so wet and dreary,
My cheeks are now so fresh and cheery.

For more from Aaron Hanlon please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Aaron+Hanlon

Happy Birthday Glynis!

2008-10-31T09:09:00.000-07:00

Today I want to wish my friend Glynis Smy a happy birthday! I'm sure she is busy preparing for her celebration but I want to send this out to her anyway. Hope you have a great day Glynis!

You can find links to her blogs and Triond profile along the sides and bottom of this blog. I hope you enjoy her work and blogs, I have!

The Initiation of the Werewolf

2008-10-30T09:07:00.000-07:00

by Michael Degenhardt, Oct 25, 2008
Happy Halloween.
The pale moon shone brightly through the naked branches of Briarwood Cemetery. It, being an odd time to go in and pay respects, due to work and other obligations, this became the only available time. Thank goodness for that moon and the light it cast, as I could actually see better, almost clearer in the moonlight. The only thing I didn’t see was that dog that greeted me fiercely when I approached the gate. It took a bite, but ran off before I could even swat at it. Funny, the blood seems to have stopped flowing and my hearing, too, has become more acute.
I remembered where her headstone was and what turns needed to be made to get there, but for some reason I didn’t make it there with the flowers and prayers. In fact, what had happened next can not be remembered, but there was this smell. It’s hard to describe, but this smell was putrid yet so tempting. I remember feeling like I had to find the source of the smell, but it seemed to be moving. Wait, there was a face and there, too, was screaming, but the smell, I can’t place. Wait! Blood. That’s it, the smell was blood and it was fresh. Then after that all became hazy as I watched the moon transform into sharpened focus.
Now, I’ve just awakened near to my car. There’s dry blood on my face, but I do not feel hurt or injured and my clothes, well they’re tattered and torn. I hear sirens in the distance and can’t figure out if I should run or stay, but my gut feeling, almost like an animal instinct tells me to run and hide, perhaps to return later.

For more from Michael Degenhardt please follow this link https://www.triond.com/users/Michael+Degenhardt

Anniversary

2008-10-28T10:58:00.000-07:00

by Glynis Smy, Sep 15, 2008
For an anniversary.

Sunsets, Seashore and Romance
We have had them all
We have taken rough with smooth
Side by side, day by day
Today is just for us
A day that memories unfold
Our love has held us together
My love for you has not weakened
We have not had worldly riches
And life has not always been kind
But today is our day
The day to celebrate our love
And tomorrow?
Well tomorrow
We will yet again
Have Sunsets, Seashore and Romance

To read more from my friend Glynis please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy

As Daylight Dies

2008-10-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

by Ruben Etienne, Aug 16, 2008
A simple work that talks about the sun and moon.
As the sun paints the skies in red, orange, and pink,
A scene so sublime as a view on a mountaintop,
As uprising as an infants innocent laugh,
As the sun kisses its children goodnight,
Before the moon watches over them with its life,
The sun drifts away to bless her other children with its warmth,
As daylight dies, daylight is born again,Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

visit https://www.triond.com/users/Ruben+Etienne for more from this talented poet!

Use the Light, Ignite the Flame

2008-10-25T09:19:00.000-07:00

by Michael Degenhardt, Oct 19, 2008
Use anything to keep the spark alive.
The keeper of the nighttime flame
Stands vigil in the courtyard of emotion
Where he enlightens the many who wander
Through the entrance of new found love
His light teaches the many of burning heat
It lights the way for all to find their hearts
As they may have been locked behind
The walls outside these very gates

The Ghost

2008-10-24T09:49:00.000-07:00

by Rebecca Anne Grant, May 10, 2008

When I first told my family about the occurrence, they didnt believe me. It wasnt until they had their own experiences with the ghost that they realized, I wasnt crazy.
It all started when I was washing clothes one day. As I turned to leave, I turned off the light and it came right back on. I just stared at it in amazement. I knew something wasn't right.
Later, I told my family and they were just like anyone else would be. Saying, Oh there must be a short or something. They turned the light on and off.
That night, my son came screaming out of his room, My TV turned on and off by itself! He was then too scared to sleep in his room.
The next morning, my son returned to his room to find all of his toys piled up in the middle of the floor. He then had it in his mind that he wasnt ever sleeping in his room again.
Lights would come on in the middle of the night in our home and shadows could be seen on the walls coming from the rooms that were lit up. Toys would go off when no one was playing with them, and I awoke one morning to find my jewelry box standing wide open.
The telephone would ring several times a week with no one on the other end answering. The caller ID would say Out of Area. The toilet would flush while we were all in the living room watching TV.
Dishes would rattle in the sink, and things would fall from where they were sitting. Our alarm clock would get turned off while we were asleep making us late for things.
We would wake up to our front door being unlocked when we had locked it the night before. We could hear popping noises coming from my sons room and the bathroom all the time.
One night when all my children were asleep, I heard someone call my name that sounded like my mother even though she lives 45 minutes away.
Things in our home would be moved from where they were originally put. I liked to light candles but the candles that I lit kept getting blown out right after I would light them.
I went to my parents one day and while there, a paper flew off the top of the TV for no reason. On the way back home something kept pulling at my seatbelt and when I asked my daughter to stop she just replied, I am no where close to your seatbelt. Thats when I knew, this ghost could touch you and make things move.
My husband worked the night shift so I took a nap with him and my baby in the mornings while my other children were at school. One morning while I was in bed it seemed to get deathly cold all of a sudden, so I covered my head trying to get warm and thats when I felt something rubbing the covers over my head. I knew it wasnt my husband or my baby who slept in the middle of us. They had been asleep for a while. I was terrified, too scared to move, look or even breath. Later when I told my husband he asked, Do you want to move? I said, No. I couldnt see just letting whatever this was run all of us off from our home.
A week or two later the TV in the living room came on right after my husband returned to the bed from going to the bathroom. My daughter was even getting scared because she said, I can feel something touching the top of my covers at night.
Late one night I heard a little girl singing. There were days when our children were at school that my husband and I could swear that we heard someone getting up out of our daughters bed. Her room is next to ours.
We all went out one day and when we returned we found the swing set thrown across the yard on the property line. How could a wind have done that?
We asked a preacher about ghosts and he said, They can link themselves to material things. Thats when we remembered the used couch we had bought when all this had started and the little girls picture we had found in it. And thats how I ended up buying a new couch.

To nejoy more from Rebecca Anne Grant please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Rebecca+Anne+Grant

Once

2008-10-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

by Autumnrose, May 24, 2008
On love lost.
Once you kissed me.
Once you held me.
Once I fell asleep in your arms.
Once I knew you.
Once I loved you.
Once you kept me safe from harm.
Once we were happy.
Once we had it all.
Once nothing could break us apart.
Once you were my soulmate.
Once I was your angel.
Once I took for granted your heart.
Once I lied.
Once I cheated.
Once I made a mistake—now you’re gone.

To read more of Autumnrose's work please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Autumnrose

The Gift of a Smile

2008-10-22T10:37:00.000-07:00

by Michael Degenhardt, Oct 22, 2008
Share one today, it's all the rage.
So pains my heart to see you sad
My wish, to bring you glee
But, alas, so distant I am from that
So this, I send to thee
Take some paper, draw a smile
Then cut it to its form
Paste it then on the PC
Where words for you are born
See it there when you need it
A smile to make you smile
Pretend it’s mine, a gift to you
To keep it for the while

Mom Where are You?

2008-10-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

by diane mccloskey, Oct 15, 2008
Some choices we get to make, some we don't. I'd give all the money in the world for more quality time...again, some choices we don't get to make.

I don't get to decide when my mom dies or how or in what shape.
It's not up to me.
I don't get to choose.
I don't get to decide whether she knows who I am when the time draws near--she hardly knows now. She knows she knows me--but she's always surprised to find out that I'm her daughter and better yet, that she's my mother.
And she wonders where her father is though he's been gone now more than 50 years. Of course she forgets that she herself is now 85. And she wants her other, old name back--she remembers Koch--and when I explain how she became Edie Drasche by marrying Walter Drasche--best move of her life--she looks at me blankly, sort of shrugs her shoulders, smiles a meek smile….
46 years of marriage, 54 years of motherhood--
Where have all these sacred memories gone?
Do I hold them all now, do I keep them safe?

To read more from Diane McCloskey please click here https://www.triond.com/users/diane+mccloskey

Ghostly Music

2008-10-21T08:55:00.000-07:00

by Rachel Faye, May 11, 2008
Ever wanted something so badly and it turned out unexpectedly?
This happened 30 years ago and the memory still lingers on.
As a child, my parents pampered me and they still do, bless them. They would purchase anything I wanted, of course within reason, and I wanted a piano. I love the sound the piano makes, nothing compares with the beautiful notes swelling from within a wooden hollow structure with string. Not even an electronic keyboard that tries it's best to mimic the sound! I pestered my parents, promising that I would attend lessons and faithfully practice playing the piano daily. Lo and behold, the piano was bought!
The preparation began at home. My parents were moving the furniture around to make space for the piano and I was so impatient that I was constantly bugging my mom when the piano was arriving. I still remember the day the piano was delivered to the house, it was as if a part of me had arrived to make me whole.
As promised, I attended piano classes and practiced daily. I usually left the keyboard cover up as I would sit at the piano to play a little each time I walked past it.
About six months later, I was not as enthusiastic to attend the piano lessons as I was before. Then something mysterious happened. Every other night, my mother would hear some soft musical notes from the piano!
The first time when she heard it, she thought nothing of it. When she heard it again a couple of nights later, she woke my dad but he didn't hear it as the musical notes had stopped. When it happened again, my mom, who was by now not sleeping well, woke my dad and that time he heard it for himself! He jumped out of bed and went to take a look. Nothing!
By now, my parents were both not sleeping well and they did not tell me that anything was amiss - after all, I was the one who wanted the piano! I did not notice the dark rings under their eyes but I was too young then, but I remember they were not as cheerful as they were before the piano's arrival.
They shared the news with my grandparents and they decided to stay over. I never found out the reason for their sudden decision to stay over until later. Usually when my grandparents were coming for a visit, it would be planned and their room would be prepared for them before they arrived. That day, my grandparents came over, and I was surprised as their room was not ready.
A couple of nights later, my grandparents also heard the ghostly music coming from the piano. Then for the next couple of nights, I was wondering why my grandparents were going to bed later then usual. Unfortunately, when they stayed up, there was no trouble. It was only when all the lights were off then would the ghostly music start.
My dear old grandpa suggested getting a dim night light near the piano and leave it on the whole night. And so it was done. For the next couple of months nothing happened. All was well again. That was when my parents shared with me what had happened as I was asking them about the newly installed night light. You can imagine the fear that gripped me as I found out the MY piano had a "night life" of its own!
After three months after installing the night light, my parents heard the ghostly music again and this time so did I! You bet, after knowing what I knew, I was not sleeping too well either! I flew into my parents' room with my heart pounding so hard. I never knew such fear in all my life! My hands were icy cold, and I had goose pimples all over. Even now as I tell you this story, I still recall the fear that gripped me, never have I felt such fear to strike me.
Again, my grandparents came for a sudden visit. Now I knew why! Little did I know, my dear grandparents had been taking turns to stay up late each night. As they stayed up, they would sit quietly and prayed.
One night, my grandpa decided to stay up a little later than usual. Suddenly, we heard the ghostly music and immediately followed by my grandpa laughing loudly! We thought something really BAD happened to him. We rushed in to see him wiping tears from his eyes as he continued laughing. With the lights on, we could see that physically he was alright but he was still laughing very hard with one hand pointing at the piano.
We had to wait for him to catch his breath before he could tell us what happened. Then he related his tale. He was going to stretch his legs after sitting for so long, when he happened to glance over to the piano before getting up. That was when it happened! Just as he turned his head to the piano, the ghostly music started! Upon closer observation, it was a MOUSE! It was running on the keyboard. We stared in disbelief at each other! A mouse had caused all those sleepless nights and stress. We all shared a good laugh as tension was released from our bodies and minds. That night, we all slept like babies. Now, I never leave my piano cover up ever again.

To read more from Rachel Faye please click here: https://www.triond.com/users/Rachel+Faye

My Life, my Love

2008-10-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

by Cara Boynton, Mar 12, 2008
Why I love my life and my family.

Every once in a while I wonder what God had in mind for me when I was born. I have not had a bad life; in fact most of it has been wonderful. My childhood was wonderful. I had two loving parents who provided me with everything I would ever need to succeed in life.
My first marriage was a failure. It took 12 years for me to realize this. I wanted it to work, I tried. My ex-husband didn't have the desire to be a husband or a provider. It was a rare occasion if he held a job for more than three months. The only good thing that came from that relationship was my two beautiful children. I knew that I had to leave when the abuse started. I didn't want my children to think this was any way for a husband to treat his wife. I was even more afraid that he would eventually strike out at one of my children. As much as I needed to leave, it still broke my heart. Not because I loved him, but because I felt as if I was destroying our family by leaving. All I could think about was my two girls. They had never lived anywhere else. They had always gone to the same school, known the same friends. I was scared to death of moving them away from every thing that was familiar.
I moved back to my home town, back into my parent's home, with two children. They took us in with open arms. I worked full time; it wasn't unusual for me to work 65 or more hours in a week. I just wanted to save as much as I could so we could afford our own home. In six months I had saved enough for a down payment. My girls and I moved into our own home, right next door to my parents.
I needed to be close to my family. My youngest daughter was disabled and I needed someone I could trust to watch her. My parents took the responsibility without blinking an eye. My oldest daughter would help but was getting involved in school and other curricular activities for school.
Slowly we began putting our lives back together. I began to date a little. It didn't take me long to decide I didn't want to date anyone who had children; simply because I didn't want the drama of an ex-wife or the responsibility of another child. Some of my friends actually said I was selfish for doing this, but I knew if I ever remarried someone and they had children, then I would have to move to a bigger house, because each of my children had their own rooms, or my children would have to share their rooms. I had worked hard for what we had; I didn't want them to have to give it up. So, I guess in a way I was being selfish, but it was my right and our lives.
Soon, I did meet someone. And no, he didn't have children. Once I knew we were getting serious, I had to tell him about my youngest daughter. I had to tell him that she was disabled and mentally challenged. She couldn't speak very well and needed my attention all of the time. I also told him that my children would come first every time. I figured he would turn around and walk away, and I would never see him again. I was wrong. He told me that my daughter would just be a bonus. He loved children and had a special place in his heart for “special” people.
We were married and he gave up everything. When we met he was a program director and disc jockey for a radio station about 100 miles from where I live. He gave his two week notice for his job. He gave every thing he owned (except for his truck and his clothes and cat) to the Salvation Army and moved to a town he had never been to or heard of before. I can only imagine how he felt. I imagine he was terrified, I would have been.
My daughters were getting older and my youngest daughter needed me more. My oldest daughter was just beginning to drive and was involved in school activities and just needed to be a teenager. My husband, once again, changed careers to make my life better. He went to medical school to become a phlebotomist, so I could stay home or work part time, what ever I wanted to do.
I took a job at our local high school working in the cafeteria. I was able to see my children every day, and was there when they needed me.
Since then, I have published three books. I love to write. If my husband hadn't gone back to school, giving me the opportunity to stay home with my kids, I wouldn't have accomplished this.
Sometimes I still wonder what God has in store for me. I think he just wanted me to be able to take care of my beautiful “special” daughter.
I think we put too much effort in wondering why things are the way they are. We just need to enjoy the wonderful things God has given us and live life to its fullest. I love my husband and my daughters very much. I thank God every day for the life he has given me.

To read more by Cara please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Cara+Boynton

Tears of a Bruised Sky

2008-10-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

by Autumnrose, May 24, 2008
A possible reason for a drought.

It's ironic that tears of a bruised sky heal,
That we're nourished by its pain.
Here we are, begging it to weep
When no one questions why it withholds.
It's just a thought, but
Wouldn't the sky delight in seeing
Our pesticide-laced fields dry?
Our wasteful yachts run aground
As we discover just how much
We've taken advantage of its tears?
I know if I were the sky right now,
I'd be pretty pissed.I'd be like: I gave you this gift for so many years
But now enough is enough.
You're abusing it with avaricious stuff!
I'd be filled with angry, savage joy.
I sympathize with the sky.
I know I wouldn't cry.

For more by Autumn Rose please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Autumnrose

Vampire's Kiss

2008-10-13T10:38:00.000-07:00

by Rachel Stirling, Sep 1, 2008
Vampires, my favorite supernatural beings.
The Vampires kiss Longed for and Bliss
He comes in the night to offer you this
Eternal life in Darkness at night
Living on blood from the too weak to fight.
Power and glory be yours with his love
Killing the innocents and draining there blood.
Could you sacrifice your last breath to him
For his love and power will draw you within.
Mysterious and sexy this Magnetic man is
But Dangerous and permenent his eternal kiss is.

To read more by Rachel Stirling please click here: https://www.triond.com/users/Rachel+Stirling

10 Things You Should Never Do When Faced by a Dark Wizard

2008-10-13T09:36:00.000-07:00

by Aaron Hanlon, Mar 31, 2008

I have been fighting Dark Wizards since I was old enough to suck on the handle of a battle axe, and over the years I have learned a thing or two about dealing with those pointed hatted fellows.
I have been turned blue, green and on one occasion poker dot pink. I have been cursed with Dragon tail, Dragon scale and Dragon breath (not good when you're trying to get a roll in the hay with a village wench). But now in my knobbly years I have decided to let all you young warriors out there in on a few of the secrets of surviving a life against the hat.
When faced with a Dark Wizard:
Never say to a Dark Wizard, “Is that a wand in you pocket or are you just happy to see me.”
Dark Wizards are notoriously lacking in any sense of humour and will, in all likely hood, show you exactly where they can stick that wand.
Never look up a Dark Wizard's dress.
Trust me, there's nothing up there you want to see.
Never snatch the hat from a Dark Wizard's head and run away laughing with your friends.
Dark Wizards are Dark for a reason. Most will have been bullied and made fun of at school. They will, more than likely, have had nick names like, Spotty spot spot, Fatty fat fat, or Greasy ass wipe. And in some instances all three. There will be a lot of built up rage lurking about and you and three friends having to share the same bottom for three months is not something I would recommend to anyone. Although it does bring you all a lot closer.
Never ask a Dark Wizard if he borrowed his dress from his aunt Deirdre.
For a start you'd be surprised just how many Dark Wizards actually have an Aunt Deirdre and they tend to be very protective of them. Most Dark wizards never got on with their parents and suffer from abandonment issues. Aunt Deirdre is probably the closest thing to a mother they have and after a hard week of death and destruction they still go around on Sunday's for a nice cup of tea a bit of cake. Oh and yes, they probably did borrow the dress from aunt Deirdre but not her best Sunday one of course.
Never walk up to a Dark Wizard (even if very drunk) and give him a big hug.
They tend to have personal space issues and will not appreciate it, no matter how many times you tell them you love them.
Never ask a Dark Wizard if you can date his daughter.
Although Dark wizards don't see their children very often and even then it's only ever to tighten the noose around their necks they can still be very funny about their daughters dating. As a side note I would have to say that considering the kind of women Dark Wizards tend to have children with you'd be best not dating their daughters anyway, (no matter how good looking they are). Inevitable tentacles appear when you are at your most venerable.
Never ask a Dark Wizard if you can borrow money from him.
They work very hard to gather there horde and then lock it up in a Dragon guarded maze of terror. And even if they say yes (unlikely) it's really not worth the bother of trying to collect it.
Never ask a Dark Wizard if you can see his Wizarding license.
Even if you have disguised yourself as a member of the Wizard licensing board they won't show it to you. Dark Wizards are by their very nature rebels and will balk at any interference by government in their dark ambitions. They have a tendency to a quick temper too.
Never poke a Dark Wizard with a pointy stick.
They won't like it.
And never, never, take a Dark Wizards wand!
Even if you escape with it a Dark Wizards wand won't like you and will quickly explore your inner most bodily cavities as a means to express its displeasure at your actions.

For more by Aaron Hanlon click here https://www.triond.com/users/Aaron+Hanlon

The Joys of Parenting

2008-10-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

by Lost in Arizona, Sep 27, 2008
How great it is to be a parent.

Ah the joys of parenting. No one ever gave you an instruction manual with the baby on your way out of the hospital. Everyone you knew who had kids laughed at you when you said you were on your way to becoming a parent. And why? Because everyone knows that kids are mental terrorists. We don't know exactly how they do it, but they can push your buttons in no time flat. No amount of preparation can get you ready for the years of sibling rivalry, crying, lack of sleep, diaper changing, being able to possess the energy of an Energizer bunny, holding your tongue, or messy clean-ups that come with these bundles of joy.
You figured things would be different when you had your kids. Your mother warned you about the lack of sleep you'd be getting and all the crying that your baby would be doing. But no, You thought you were different. You were going to get your baby on a schedule and you'd read up on all the tricks to soothe the fuss out of your baby. Yeah right.
The demands of being a parent are exhausting. You have to be an entertainer, teacher, janitor, cook, maid, plumber, and psychologist. You need to be able to go from 0-60, to be able to entertain the babes and make a fool of yourself if necessary, as well as fix gadgets that somehow mysteriously broke by themselves. By the end of the day, you're ready for a well deserved nap; if you can get one.
So you want to have more than one? As if the first one wasn't a sign of things to come. Be prepared for all the screaming and fighting between your wonderful little “angels.” One minute they'll love each other. Then before you know it, they'll be at each other's throats like piranhas at an all you can eat buffet.
I don't know what's worse, changing a nasty poo diaper, or cleaning up a kid who's decided to make Picasso art out of their food. Either way, the likelihood of you cleaning up both ends is 100 %. The hubby always has a convenient excuse for skipping out on the mess-control.
Before you potty train your little one, you will have used about 8 diapers a day, 365 days out of the year, for at least 2 ½ years. That's nearly 7,000 diapers. You'll be up to your arms in poo.
So you have a mountain of laundry, dirty dishes, and house cleaning to do. You can't remember the last time you took a shower. The kids have been screaming all day, and actually made you find a safe place to curl into the fetal position and cry for your own mommy. Now your husband announces that he wants to make sexy time? You're kidding right? He knows exactly where he can stick it.
The job of parenting will always be long-term, no matter when you kick them out. The position of being a parent will never change. Communication and patience are key, especially when tantrums are inevitable (on both sides). But remember, you're the parent.
While there are no holidays, time-outs, or compensation for your efforts, the job of being a parent has its own rewards. You get unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses (when they want to). And while the job will always be difficult, the end results are worth it, because there will be more good days than bad. Besides, there's nothing greater in life than spreading forth your demon spawn!
For more by Lost In Arizona please click here : https://www.triond.com/users/Lost+in+Arizona

Beyond the Layers

2008-10-11T10:28:00.000-07:00

by Ruben Etienne, Sep 2, 2008
Even though man looks on the outward appearance,
only God can know what lies underneath.
Others see a broken soul pleading for help,
All I see is a strong soul searching for its other half,
Others see an ugly person inside and out,
All I see is a beauty misunderstood by the masses,
Like a rose…
all people critique are the thorns,
But I see the beauty in it thorns and all,
Life has left your soul scarred,
And people mock you scars failing to realize their own,
I see beyond the scars into the beautiful being I love,
With all imperfections…fears…and ambitions,
Do not mind what others say,
They do not matter,
It's ok to be yourself…
because those that matter won't mind,
They'll still love you no matter what you do.

Funny Moments From the Ward

2008-10-10T10:03:00.000-07:00

by Glynis Smy, Aug 14, 2008
Nursing isn't all about sickness and death.

During the years as a nurse I came across some characters that made the job worthwhile. Here are some of the things that happened to me.
This was an elderly patient with a terminal illness, he was a gentleman, and a kind heart and a huge smile were what got him a place in my heart. He knew he was dying. He would only be called by his Christian name; I have changed it for this story though.
Joe - Nurse I am worried
Me - Oh Joe, why?
Joe -well I am going to die
Me -yes, we all are at some stage
Joe -no I am going soon
Me -Ok how does that make you feel?
Joe -a bit worried now you asked me that!
We laughed together
Joe - What I want to know is will I need any money?
Me - What do you mean?
Joe - Will I need any money to take to Heaven?
Me- I don't think so, I think we leave all those sort of things behind
Joe - So why do people put stuff in your coffin?
Me - I think it helps them feel comforted knowing you have possessions etc
Joe- I am having my will changed now, I am having £100 put in my coffin with me, I am not so sure and I don't want to get there without any money
Me-Oh, (lost for words) good idea
Later that morning
Joe - Nurse will you come to my funeral?
Me- If that would make you happy, yes
Joe - aahh, that's nice, why?
Me being a bit cheeky and wanting to lighten the mood, said:
"'cos I know where there is a £100 for the taking!"
We chuckled together, sadly Joe passed on a week later, I did attend his funeral but his money is intact.
I was helping a lady into the bathroom when she asked if I knew God, I thought she meant, did I go to church or had religion, I told her I had personal views and that I was not to get into talk about my personal opinions. She asked again, did I know God, again I explained my previous statement. She sat on the toilet and sighed deeply, I thought she would need a bit of privacy and turned towards the door, she stopped me by calling out very loudly "God, I can't find one bu**er on this ward that knows you, all I want to do is get someone to ask you if we come back to you intact or will I want my good set of teeth in when I die?
This nurse walked politely out of the door and ran into the office for a good cry, tears of laughter fell in abundance!

To read more from Glynis click here: https://www.triond.com/users/Glynis+Smy , you can also visit her blog at http://scribblesbyglynis.blogspot.com
Another wonderful story Glynis! - Mrst

House of Souls

2008-10-09T10:33:00.000-07:00

by Michael Degenhardt, Oct 8, 2008
Inspired by the shrieks one hears in the night... boo.

If you listen very closely,way into the night
there are sobbing sounds and spirits
that will surely give you fright.
For in that darkened house,
with boards upon the panes,
sunshine never enters,
just eternal rains.
It appears there was a time
when the sunshine was let in,
but not since that frightful night
of debauchery and sin.
Captives in the rooms
were tortured and left to die.
Now, of those lost souls,if you listen,
hear their cries.
So, if you enter in the house
where only darkness now thrives,
you better turn around and run
if you want to spare your lives!

To read more from Michael Degenhardt please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Michael+Degenhardt

Raining Animals and Coins: Mystery of the History

2008-10-08T10:55:00.000-07:00

by valli, Mar 7, 2008
Did you ever see animals raining? Raining animals is a rare phenomenon with occurrences in many countries throughout history. These occurrences may be evidence for the transport of the victims to high altitudes, where the temperature is below zero, and they show how powerful meteorological forces can be.
Raining fishes:
In 1859 fishes had rained in Glamorganshire, England. Thousands of fishes were jumping to the surprise of the people. Later the fishes were released into water. Another incident took place in Louisiana, America in 1947. But the fallen fishes were dead and some were frozen in ice. In 1969 a big fish had fallen from the sky on a church father in Sydney, Australia and immediately it floated along with water. In 1989, 800 small fishes had fallen from the sky in the corridor of a house in Ipswich, Australia. Very recently raining of fishes occurred in Kerala, India. These are some of the examples of raining fishes.
Raining frogs:
Frogs had rained in Chalon sur Saone, France very long ago. In 1901, frogs had rained in Minneapolis, America. According to local people, the sky appeared green as if it wore a green blanket before raining. In Naphilon, Greece, people saw hundreds of frogs jumping from trees in 1981. Later Weather Department of Greece announced that a big storm carried those frogs. But interesting news is that all those frogs belonged to North Africa.
Raining crocodiles and lizards:
In Silvertown, America, Dr. J.L. Smith observed some big objects falling from sky. Later he found that they were crocodiles; each one was 12 inches long and they were safe even though they had fallen from the up. This incident occurred in 1877. In 1857, lizards had rained in Montreal. Then people found lizards everywhere.
Raining of other animals:
An unidentified animal, may be a cow, fell in California ripped to tiny pieces in 1869. Similar incident occurred in Bath County, Kentucky in 1876. Jelly fish fell from the sky in Bath, England in 1894. Assorted dead birds including ducks, wood peckers and canaries fell in Baton Rouge, Louisiana in 1896. People from Matagalpa, Nicaragua reported that they found some turtles fallen down from the sky in 1990. In 2007 worms had dropped from the sky in Jennings, Louisiana.
Raining coins, money:
There have been many incidences of raining money down from the sky. In 1940 nearly 1000 coins fell in the Meshchera region of Russia during a storm. To our surprise, all those coins belonged to 16th century. In 1956, pennies and half pennies plopped down on children in Hanham, England as they were heading home from school. In 1957, numerous 1,000 franks currency notes had showered on gathered people. In 1976, two clergymen watched as 2,000 marks worth of bank notes fluttered down from a clear sky in Limburg, West Germany. In 1982, number of children in Manchester, England ran to a nearby shop to buy chocolates. Shopkeeper suspected the children that they had stolen money from the fund in Church. But the children told him that the coins fell down from the sky. At last he believed after verifying the fund. These are some of the incidents that are very amazing.
Raining blood:
In 1846 red rain fell in Li Yan, France which frightened the people. Later they found that it was due to the mixing of red sand of Sahara Desert in water because of a strong wind. About 300,000 kilograms of sand was found there at that time. Later, in 1890, Popular Science News published a story that real blood had rained in Calabria, Italy. People believed that strong winds tore the bodies of flocks of birds and their blood was showered as rain. But there was incidence of neither the strong wind nor the dead bodies of birds. This stood as a mystery in history. In 2001, red rain fell in Kerala, India. According to Scientists, it was due to red algae.

Raining without clouds:
We know that clouds cause rain. But rain fell without clouds in Charlotte, America in 1886. There it had been raining without clouds for three weeks. In the same year another strange incident happened in Ikin. There it was raining from morning to night continuously only at two graveyards but no where else.
Strange rain from over hundred years:
In Honduras, Middle America, fishes fall from the sky every year between the months of May and July for three hours. This has been happening for over hundred years. There is an interesting story regarding this. In 1864, a church father prayed God for three days and three nights to redeem the poor from hunger. Since then this rain is falling every year. In 1970 experts from National Geographic Society tested and found that those fishes are blind having the length of 6 inches and they live only in under ground water.
Scientists say tornadoes are the reasons for these strange rains. But how African frogs rained in France and how the coins rained from the sky? Still it remains as a mystery in the history!

To see more from Valli please click here: https://www.triond.com/users/valli

Memories and Milemarkers

2008-10-07T10:29:00.000-07:00

by Mary J Dressel, Sep 10, 2008
A wife's observation of a long-haul trucker's job.
You roll along on bumpy road,
Listening to stories already told.
Your big-rig bounces and takes the lead,
To warn others to watch their speed.
Coffee stops, french fries, a nap or two,
Then heading back out beneath skies of blue.
Beautiful horizons, sunsets, and skylines,
Still become special moments in time.
Nighttime finds you looking for rest,
But there's always another hill to crest.
Exit signs, mile markers, too,
Make you wonder why you do what you do.
Hours later you finally climb down from that rig,
Thankful for the end of a three day gig.

Visit Mary's website for more of her amazing work at http://maryjdresselbooks.com . You can also view her profile and more of her writing at https://www.triond.com/users/Mary+J+Dressel

Girl's Can't Play on a Boys' Team

2008-10-06T10:35:00.000-07:00

by KristineScurry, Jun 7, 2008
A middle school age girl was good enough to get to play on a boys' basketball team.

A GIRL ON THE BOYS TEAM
“Ouch!” I cried when number 42 from the Stallion's team knocked me down. I hit the floor hard and scraped my knee. I rolled over onto my back and held my knee for a minute, the pain was intense but it wasn't bleeding. TWEEEEP, TWEEEP! I heard the whistle blow.
“Foul!” called the Ref, “Take the ball out, Griffins.”
“Girls shouldn't be on a boy's basketball team,” said number 42.
Dylan was trotting over to help me up; he heard what number 42 said to me. “Whatever! You're about to get beat by a girl.” said Dylan, “Don't listen to him he's just
jealous "cause you"re taller than him, Allison,” he said as he held out his hand for me. “Heck, you're taller than most of the kids in the eighth grade,” he said with a wide grin.
Our team has the ball again. Dylan is dribbling down the court, his face is red and his hair is soaking wet. He bounce passes the ball to me; I have to get it to our end of the court.
I started to run and dribble, my knee screaming in pain. I glanced up at the scoreboard the game is still tied 20 to 20 and only two minutes on the clock. I could hear the ball pounding on the wooden floor as I ran. My leg muscles are starting to burn, I have sweat dripping into my eyes; the emerald jersey is sticking to my back. I can hear the crowd cheering and clapping. I've made it to the three point line, the other team is all over me jumping and blocking me from a shot.
“Allison, over here!” calls Will. I see a slim opening and bounce pass to him, he is going for the free throw, but the other team swarms in fast and surrounds him.
“Head's up, Ally!” Will yells. I look up in time to see Will throw the ball straight at me. The ball sails through the air in slow motion. Still standing on the three point line, I am going to have to go for it. I never make three-point shots. Where is Dylan? He always makes three pointers. The other team is rushing toward me; I can hear the crowd chanting, “AL-LI-SON, AL-LI-SON!”
I am going to have to go for it. I take a deep breath, I jump high, my feet leave the floor I toss the ball as hard as I can. As my feet slammed the floor, my knee buckles and
I hit the floor again. I look at the clock. Two seconds left. The ball swooshes threw the net! The buzzer sounds. BUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ!!
“WE WON! WE WON!” The guys on my team yell.
“You did it, Allison,” Dylan said, “I was worried for a second, but you did it!”
“Are you crying?” Dylan asks.
“No!” I replied.
“Then why are your eyes wet?” asks Will.
“Because I am happy, duh,” I said.
“Sometimes you're such a girl,” said Dylan, “let's go get some pizza.”
All the guys on my team were laughing and slapping each other on the back. I could hear the Coach from the other team yelling at the boys.
“What is wrong with you? You all just got beat by a girl! A girl! Do you realize how embarrassing that is?” He was yelling. I saw the guys on that team, their heads were hung low, not happy and joking like my team was doing.

Will and Dylan are watching the other Coach yell at his team too.
“Man, that Coach is really letting them have it,” said Will.
“Glad he's not our Coach,” said Dylan.
“I want to say good game to the other team,” I said.
“Why?” asks Will, “You got knocked down pretty hard, and that really stinks.” “Besides, I really don't think they will appreciate the girl that beat them coming over.” “I know, but I need to show good sportsmanship,” I said “their coach seems to be kind of tuff on them.”
“Fine, but don't take all day, I am so ready for a slice of pizza,” said Dylan.
“If we all go and shake hands, it would go a lot faster,” I said. The guys shrugged their shoulder and agreed to come with me.
Walking over to the other side of the court, where the Stallions were gathering up their gear, seemed to take a lifetime. Just then number 42 looked up at me with his blue eyes; I felt my breath catch in my throat. I decided I wanted to shake hands with him first; even though I was feeling kind of shaky for some unknown reason.
“Hey, umm, sorry I knocked you down,” he said with a half smile as I got closer to him.
“It's all right, I'm not hurt that bad,” I said.
“You really played a good game,” he said as he pushed his dark brown hair back from his forehead. “I guess your friend was right, I am a bit jealous of you,” he continued, “because you're better at basketball than any of the guys I know.”
“Thanks,” I said feeling my face burn. “I heard your Coach, he seems pretty mad.”
“Yeah, but his bark is usually worse than his bite,” he said.
“Well, I came over to say y'all played really good, it was not easy to beat you,” I said smiling.
We watched our teams laugh and congratulate each other on a good game.
“Well, I need to go, we are all going for pizza,” I held out my hand, “my name is Allison, by the way.”
“My name is Justin,” he said taking my hand in his. “I hope to meet you on the court again sometime.” All I could do was smile; I know my face is scarlet. I don't understand why I am feeling so silly talking to a boy.
“Allison, huh?” he said. “I like that name.”
“Um, thank you,” I said. Suddenly I feel all girly.
“Do you think I can call you sometime?” Justin asks.
I feel sweat dripping down my back, but I don't think it is from the game. My stomach feels funny. Is he asking me to go out with him? Maybe he just wants to be one of my buddies.
“Sure, I guess, I can give you my number,” I said.
“Cool,” he said.
After giving him my phone number I walk on rubbery legs back to my team mates. I wonder if I should tell the guys, I wonder if he will call. What will I say if he does call? I can't wait to get home and call my girl friends.

Walk Home

2008-10-05T10:25:00.000-07:00

by Jackie Stroud Painter, Sep 11, 2008
This was inspired by my favorite artist. This is very special to me because I didn't realize what he meant to me until after I wrote this.

It was a cloudy night in New York
As we walk the streets
You smoked your cigarette
And held my hand
We spoke with smiles
Not saying a word aloud
People littered the streets
We were headed to your apartment
To relax and find us
Find out where we were headed
We had high hopes for ourselves
Since we felt our connection
And thought it was something special
Our long talks and emails
As we got closer to our destination
You put your arm around me
As a sign that you felt close to me
We again spoke through smiles
Telling how this was good
And that we would be good together
Arriving at the location
You search to find keys
But finding ourselves in an embrace
Kissing as the fireworks explode
The sky full of bright colors
And finding the love we had
Been searching for together

For more by Jackie Stroud please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Jackie+Stroud+Painter

A Tribute

2008-10-04T10:25:00.000-07:00

by diane mccloskey, Jul 29, 2008
To he who understood the imaginings of childhood. We are forever grateful.
All he did was rhyme.And he made up words, and he made up creaturesAnd he made up ridiculous scenarios.And the more ridiculous, the better.And he illustrated some and the illustrations were as crazy as the plots.Sometimes there were no plots, no reason, no rhyme.Still his popularity soared.Parents cherished him--children adored him…Over and over and over.The Cat in the Hat,One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.Children understood him,Parents could read him,He most definitely understood children.He has resonated through generations,As popular now as he was then--Timeless.May he reign forever in the hearts of babesAnd the young at heart as well.Our dearest friendWe love him soSo many booksWe've come to knowDr. Suess,You're our best friendWe'll always love you,Start to end.

Being Different

2008-10-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

by Autumnrose, Jul 14, 2008
Just a little about who I am and why I'm proud of not being the typical teenage slave to popularity and consumerism.

Everybody knows the phrase “It's okay to be different.” It's on about a million different posters, t-shirts, mugs, et cetera. Despite this over-use and slight cheese factor, this phrase happens to be the one I live by. I abhor trends, fads, and wanting to be just like a celebrity. It seems like everywhere I look around, there is a montage of sheep, teenage sheep with their designer handbags (honestly, who in their right mind would spend thousands on a purse?), super-trendy little cell phones, and the latest piece of clothing that everybody's wearing.
I am not your typical teenage girl, and I happen to be quite proud about it. I wear what I want. If I feel like wearing jeans and a t-shirt every day of the week, I go for it. If I feel like spicing it up and wearing a long, swishy skirt one day, I do. I carry my lucky stuffed otter around school on days when I have a math test. I never go on Myspace or Facebook - if I want to have a conversation, then I have a real conversation. I hate all reality shows, especially American Idol, and I think MTV is a complete waste of time. My cell phone does not have a camera, Internet, or any other unnecessary money-waster. I am always extremely under my minutes on my phone bill every month. My two best friends live in Amsterdam and Jakarta. I have two spider plants I grew from babies named Fred and Steve that I talk to every day. I am an eclectic solitary Wiccan and sport my pentacle, Stonehenge charm, and/or crystal with pride. I have no shame in admitting that I play Dungeons and Dragons. My half-elf bard is truly amazing - the balance of good and evil in the whole world depends upon me (in our campaign at least). I have no desire to be popular or hang out with the “coolest” girls, chatting about makeup, which boy band is cuter, or whatever they giggle about while painting their toenails. Instead, I hang out with a bunch of guys, watching movies, goofing off, and going to Waffle House every single weekend, or I just hang out with myself, meditating and listening to music on a rock in the middle of a creek. If I feel like someone's treating me or anyone I care about unfairly, you bet I am going to speak up, no matter how embarrassing or against the status quo it may be.
That long, jumbly paragraph is just the short list of why I am truly different. Believe it or not, though, it took a long time to build up the courage to be this way. Back in middle school, there was one group I most desperately wanted to fit into, and that, surprisingly, was Goth. I dressed in all black (yup, chains and all), wrote morbid, whiny poetry, and eschewed every bit of outer emotion that was not negative. I even wore heavy black eyeliner every single day. This went on for about a year and a half, and I was the perfect little Goth kid except for one thing. I was not really sad or depressed all of the time. I did not really hate daylight. Even though I listened to it all of the time, I hated heavy metal and Marilyn Manson. To put it bluntly, I was a phony. Finally, in the middle of my eighth grade year, I had had enough. From then onward, I decided not to try and squeeze myself into a particular social category. Categories are for file cabinets, not people!
The moral of my tale here is that people do not have to go with the flow, fit in, or stick to the status quo. Go ahead and be a sheep if it makes your little heart happy, but I am free of all that foolishness. I am different.
To read more from Autumnrose please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Autumnrose

The 10 Best Kitchen Implements For Fighting Off a Ninja

2008-10-02T10:19:00.000-07:00

by Aaron Hanlon, Mar 9, 2008

These utensils are imperative to use to defend yourself from the spontaneous attack of a ninja in your kitchen.
The Spatula
The spatula is a cunning weapon. It gives extra reach and allows you to slap the Ninja repeatedly in the face. Ninja's have an aversion to being slapped. It offends their sense of masculinity and may help to undermine their confidence. Warning: It may also help to aggravate them. Expect an increase in the ferocity of their attack. So duck and slap and duck again really fast.
The Chopping BoardThe wooden chopping board is invaluable when defending your self from a Ninja attack. Ninja have a propensity for using throwing stars, nasty if they hit you. But the wooden chopping board, when used as a shield will quickly mop up his supply. Warning: Do not discard your chopping board too quickly. Ninja are known for being sneaky individuals. He may yet have a star or two hidden up his sleeve. Be Patient.
The MopThe Mop is an excellent weapon for dealing with attacking Ninja's. Holding the shaft firmly in your hand wave the mopping end vigorously in the Ninja's face. As Ninja's are Japanese, their oldest enemies are the Chinese and the Chinese warriors carried spears with tassels placed just below the stabbing end. Somewhere deep in his subconscious the Ninja will believe he is fighting a truly worthy warrior and may just give up and go home. Warning: The Ninja just might be able to hold onto the idea that you are not in fact a Chinese warrior but are in fact just a man with a mop. Still the mop will come in handy after the fight for cleaning up the blood.
PlatesPlates are handy for a fight in a kitchen because there tend to be lots of them around. Throw the plates at the Ninja in quick procession. Not only may you hit him with them but the plates will break when they hit the floor and due to a Ninja's inadequate foot ware there is a good chance he will get splinters in his feet. (ouch) Warning: Ninja's are trained to dodge throwing stars so your chances of actually hitting him are pretty poor. And don't use your best china.
KnivesThere are plenty of knives to choose from in the average kitchen. But don't go for the stylish little steak knives. Go for the cleavers, (in this situation bigger is better) bread knives are also good too but it can be a bit difficult getting your Ninja to keep still long enough for you to saw through his arm. Warning: Ninja's are trained swords men and no matter how big your knife you can be sure he will have a bigger one.
ForksOkay we are clutching at straws here. The Fork is not a great attack weapon but it can be good as a defensive weapon. When the Ninja attacks with his sword try and catch the blade between the forks prongs then twist the handle of the fork sharply. If your Ninja has bought his sword at a discount store it may snap. Warning: catching a blade that is coming at your rather quickly between the prongs of as fork may take a bit of practise and you only have so many limbs spare to get it right.
The Frying PanWe are back on a more solid footing here. The Frying pan is both a good attacking weapon as well as a defensive one. It can block most weapons at the Ninja's disposal and it makes a great noise when you hit someone in the head with it. Block, strike and block again, marvellous. Warning: In order to attack with a frying pan you really do have to get very close to the Ninja. Getting close to an attacking Ninja is not really a great idea as they have many small sharp objects that they just love to stick into people that invade their personal space.

The CookerA gas cooker is best used in this attack. First you have to get the cooker on. So while dodging and ducking first turn on the gas, then light it. Do not try to do both of these things at the same time. Ninja's are quick, you might be surprised just how quick and you will need both your arms for the next bit. Then while distracting the Ninja with some cleaver finger puppetry guide him to the cooker and trick him into putting his arm, or even better his head into the flames (going for the head should only be attempted by true experts). Warning: Not all Ninja's are enthralled by finger puppetry and if your first attempts at it don't impress him move on quickly, don't keep trying it, this will only bore the Ninja and he will quickly remember why he is there.
Salt and PepperWe are now down to chemical warfare. It may be banned by the UN but you may not time to read the fine print in the rules of war documentation supplied to warring factions to worry about this. Salt is for the eyes (his, not yours) and the pepper is for the nose. The salt will quickly blind your Ninja attacker and the pepper will wreak havoc with his breathing. Don't spend too much time trying to apply these chemicals with precision. A broad application to the general face area will suffice. Warning: Ninja's ware face masks, so the pepper may not quite hit the mark. And if you miss with the salt you probably won't get another chance.
Cooking oilThis works best if you have stone tiles laid in your kitchen. If you don't do not under any circumstances try any lay them while under attack, it's a messy and time consuming task. Apply the oil vigorously to the floor and then run away. The Ninja will come after you as surely as a dog will chase a ball and with any luck slip on the oil and hit his head upon you stone tiles. Warning: Ninja's are very good jumpers and may jump over the oil. If this happens and you have now left the kitchen you are in real trouble because this guide only deals with attacks in the kitchen and has no advice for you once you have left it. So only use oil if you are sure it will work. Perhaps you could check if your attacking Ninja has a bit of a limp and is less likely to be able to make the jump.

To Read more from Aaron Hanlon please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Aaron+Hanlon

Curiosity Kills

2008-10-01T11:20:00.000-07:00

by jenny ellen, Sep 25, 2008
Curiosity, cats and catastrophes.

They say that stupidity killed the cat and curiosity was framed; yet I am inclined to disagree. Perhaps it would be more apt to say that the cat was merely accustomed to circumstances involving danger or hazardous conditions and simply followed instincts that it had always owned and did, therefore, throw itself into the boiling cauldron of broth. It is feasible to say that the people claiming that it was due to the cat’s own penchant for finding trouble and diving straight into peril that it was killed could also be those that had surrounded it and taught it- subtlety and intention not being the issue- that it was right and good to follow such intuition. Then there is the question of why, exactly, the cat was placed in such a situation in the first place. After all, it is not predominantly common for a cat to land itself in a position of risk. Maybe it saw a little mouse- the bait- and chose its prey without knowledge of what lay beyond. It is even plausible to consider the fact that the cat wished to help or save something: a kitten or its favourite toy. However, personally I would say that it is not the cat’s fault at all and that the owner- loving, caring, feeding, guiding- was the one to seal its fate. Certainly the cat is no unintelligent being; it understands the ways of the world and knows in most cases not to soil the rug or take pleasure in clawing through its master’s best clothes. Communication is seldom a problem for most cats and they have the ability to get a point across with little trouble simply by performing and action or meowing. Surely if the cat is not regarded as a creature of stupidity then it should be able to care for itself, should it not? But, of course, what if the cat’s plight was that it was so intelligent that an owner saw fit to train it to become obedient and influenced the ways in which it reacted to situations. If the cat was taught to be curious or of little credibility when it came to making decisions that might actually matter in its life (rather, of course, than not fouling the floor or chasing the birds) then it may well be because of that that the cat ended up lifeless. If a mad instinct was forced into the cat’s mind then perhaps it would be impossible for the creature to ignore it and this is what sent it spiraling onto hot bricks as it were. In the end we will never really understand what it was that killed the cat because it is too late and the cat is dead. Perhaps, then, in the future when more of these cats are to be put in such situations then their owners and care givers would do better not to misguide their pets and then contradict their teachings or feign complete and utter blissful innocence when their cat is to the pan.

Spirit I Can See

2008-09-30T11:32:00.000-07:00

by Scarlett Donnely, Sep 18, 2008
What happens when you can see something that no one else can?
Every morning I see the dead
Is it all just in my head
Perhaps its not what it seems
I am living in my dreams
Many years I have seen this ghost
He long had left his body host
His shadow blinks past the doors
Heavy footsteps heard on the floors
A raspy voice as loud as breath
Consequences of a sudden death
He wanders that place all alone
An empty house once a home
A spirit only I can see
So he laughs and waves at me
Then he leaves and so he's gone
Until the sun again will dawn

To read more of Scarlett Donnely's work click here https://www.triond.com/users/Scarlett+Donnely

Summer Storms

2008-09-29T09:22:00.000-07:00

by Rebecca Anne Grant, Mar 20, 2008
Summer storms are exciting for me and my family.

Sitting on my back porch swing,
listening to my children sing.
Summer breezes blowing through my hair,
as storms approach us from nowhere.
The smell of honeysuckle ripe on the vine mixes with a cool mist so fine.
Watching the trees do their dance,
with each gust bowing,
to the rain by chance.
Lightning flashes in our eyes,
proceeded by thunder with all its’ surprise.
Leaves take flight like a baby bird, bobbing and falling,that looks so absurd.
Up from the dirt comes a funnel of dust, then another rumble, the rain clouds bust.As each drop of water hits the ground, I can almost hear a sizzling sound.We can see the heat as it starts to rise, like it’s the earth’s spirit flying to the skies.Now the day is as dark as the night, which makes the lightning seem more bright.The rain is coming down so fast; I know that all this excitement will not last.So, we sit and swing and enjoy the show, singing to the storms on their go.They hug our bodies with their windy embrace, kissing us with rain on our face.Their wispy fingers play the chimes, nothings more beautiful than these times.They leave us as quickly as they are seen, washing our world and leaving it green.

Love, Pure and Simple

2008-09-28T07:34:00.000-07:00

by Glynis Smy, Aug 18, 2008
Love, simple and true.

Think of the softest, finest velvet, warm and sensual, that's how she feels, think of the sheerest most perfect shimmering gossamer, that's what her skin looks like, her hair, straight, sleek and it shines like a waterfall cascading. The girl has entered my heart and I know she'll never leave. I try to clear my head of her image and concentrate on the workload lying on my desk, yet here I am a 38-year-old insurance clerk, day dreaming of a girl I have briefly met. Every time I close my eyes I see her, I can smell her perfume, I just want to hold her, my god, I'm a macho guy, not some fancy pants describing softness in its rawest form, not some Romeo sweeping the princess off her feet.In case you think I'm some kind of fruit case I'd better introduce myself, I'm Dave walker, I lead a non-descriptive lifestyle, I drink with the lads and pop to mums for a Sunday roast every third Sunday and I've just met Lisa.
Think of solid timber, the strongest kind, of mountains so high they take your breath away, of dark glossy coal, that's what his eyes remind me of, I can smell woody pine and that's his smell, oh my god, I can't get him out of my head, I must type this work up and forget Dave and concentrate, I'm too old at thirty seven to be daydreaming I'm a down to earth secretary for an insurance company.
Our story starts when we were working on a joint venture of our companies, Dave works for west and son and I work for Jilkers UK.
My money had not been accepted by the vending machine and he bought my coffee for me, he handed me the money and our hands touched briefly, that was enough, just a simple gesture, but it showed me he had a thoughtful, kind manner. We met for lunch, the evening meal and drinks, everything was perfect.
Her money had been rejected and she looked so angry, her eyes shone and I swear she stamped her foot. I bought her coffee and it went from there. She was perfect.Months have gone by now and we are so happy, even the annoying habits are acceptable.
Walks in the park are the best, they cost nothing and as we are saving for our future together we make the most of them. We feed the ducks and picnic in the summer, the sun's warmth tingling bare arms and legs.
Our lives are simple, nothing dramatic happens, no mountains move, we are just happy. Dave's not a romantic but the red roses and the champagne suppers are treasured by me. Lisa's not one of those soppy, giggly girls, but her texts speak volumes and the way she prepares my favourite meal with candles around the room, wearing the slinkiest clothing you can think of, to me that is pure romance.
We are sitting here by the sea, the sun is setting and the orange glow across the water can be seen for miles, the air is warm and the sand soft, we are holding each other in silence, watching the shimmering waters, simple people leading simple lives. I stroke her hair it smells so sweet, he holds me in his arms so strong, so loving.My love for Lisa has expanded beyond belief tonight, she put her tiny hand in mine, and she looked into my eyes and kissed my lips, so soft, so gentle. I never thought my love for Dave could grow anymore, he holds my hand, and when I told him he was going to be a dad I felt his happiness and love in his kiss. There's not a lot of romance or money in our lives, just pure love.

Lone Wolf

2008-09-25T09:27:00.000-07:00

by Ruben Etienne, Sep 23, 2008
Sometimes it hurts to be alone ... really hurts.
I never want to spend my time away,
Yet here I am…a wolf without a pack,
A soul without a mate,
Halved from one I cannot remember,
Only time will guide me,
Until then the moon hears my howls,
Hears my pleas,
Hears my cries,

To read more from this author click here https://www.triond.com/users/Ruben+Etienne

Changes to this blog!

2008-09-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

Hello! I have decided to make a change to this blog. I have found some very talented writers and I plan to start adding their work to this site. If you have something you would like to post let me know! Feel free to leave comments and opinions of the stories I post. Click on the title to go to the original post and tell the author themselves what you thought! Enjoy!

What is Creative Writing?

2008-09-24T09:43:00.000-07:00

Traditionally, all writing has been classified into two clear-cut categories, non-creative writing and creative writing. Non-creative writing usually deals with hard, cold facts. Its purpose is to inform readers and enhance their knowledge about a specific happening, situation, product, or concept. For instance, a book on history, a news write-up on a recent event, and a technical article on the latest software are all examples of non-creative writing.
In contrast, creative writing is inspired writing or writing that comes from within. It may or may not be based on facts. Even when based on facts, the purpose of creative writing is to reveal these facts in a new light, as perceived by the author. A creative writer reflects on the people and things surrounding her, meditates on concepts like love and fidelity, and then puts her thoughts and feelings on paper. Novels, poems, and short stories are all examples of creative writing.
To understand the difference between non-creative and creative writing more clearly, let us consider a road accident. A simple report of what happened in the road accident-who was injured, who was driving, etc-is an example of non-creative writing. However, if the same accident is woven into a story about the injured man, perhaps portraying him as a victim of fate rather than the motor driver, the resulting work would be called creative writing.
As you've probably guessed, both these styles of writing require different skill sets. While a non-creative writer must focus on writing with an analytical and methodical approach, a successful creative writer must be imaginative, philosophical, and to a certain extent, visionary.
The good news is that the traditional dividing line between non-creative and creative writing is blurring. It is not uncommon to find a non-creative work written in a highly creative way so that the work not onl book y informs but also inspires the reader. A good example of such a work is Sophie's World, a New York Times Bestseller, by Jostein Gaarder. Although Sophie's World is about the history of philosophy, something that most readers would consider a dull subject, Gaarder treats the subject as a wonderful mystery novel.
Does a writer lurk within you? Visit http://creativewritingforyou.wordpress.com to unleash the writer in you.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Leena_Pandey http://EzineArticles.com/?What-is-Creative-Writing?&id=1500594

Dreaming of Being a Novel Writer?

2008-07-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

Novel writing can prove to be a lot of fun, especially if you have what it takes to write one. Think about it, novel writing is probably one of the few things that can eventually give you the feeling of fulfillment from two three points of view: financial, cultural and of course, personal. If you are quite good at writing novels you might be discovered and your novel published. However, you may need a head start, and this article has some really interesting novel writing tips that will help you develop your best novel yet.
Before you Start - Before you write a single word, you may want to have a serious outline of how everything is going to be. Alternatively, of course, you may want to simply sketch some notes and proceed with writing the novel as soon as possible. It very much depends on the writer and his temper. No matter what your way is, before you start writing anything there are some things you may want to know about your novel: The story's subject (is it about a king, a boy, two lovers and so on). Next, outline what is the primary conflict - where does it all start and why (a fight, a death, a wedding, hatred developing and so on). The opposite of the main character (the bad one, or something similar) and, you might want to know how everything turns out - but this is not necessary. You may think of an ending while approaching the end of the novel
Research is important but not imperative - Let us assume that you want to write a novel about a medical tragedy of some sort - you will need to find out many things about medical diseases and other stuff to fill in your book. Still, this may not be your case, and research will be needed in just a few parts of the story. No matter what the case may be, try not to get clogged with research because that is one sure why to kill a novel.
Focus on one scene at a time - When writing a novel it can be rather disturbing to keep thinking that you have to write a novel. Do not think about the whole plot, always focus on the scene you have to write at a certain point.
Novel writing can be pleasing for the mind, and good for the pocket especially if you do it the right way. Why not learn how to develop a great novel that could bring you different satisfactions? If you want to learn more about novel writing and novel writing tips, simply follow this link: http://learn-novel-writing.info

Writing Is Easy

2008-03-30T08:57:00.000-07:00

All too often would-be writers talk themselves out of the pleasure and joy of writing all because they think it's too hard. Are you rocking that same boat?
Let me tell you right now...all those people who say writing is terribly hard are lying to you. Writing isn't hard. Writing is easy. Those who say it's hard think so because they make it hard.
There have been times when I said the same thing, "It's too hard. I can't do it. I can't write anything decent." But it was also during those times that I'd churn out quite a few pages every day, most of which was pretty decent writing.
What's even more interesting is that during the times when I thought writing was too hard, the biggest reason why I felt that way was because I had drained myself entirely of all creative energy I possessed. I worked myself to the bone, never stopping to refill my well or replenish my creative surges.
Make Writing Fun
The simple truth is that you have to make writing fun. Even more true is that there will be days when writing isn't fun at all. It will be hard work. But the end results and the gratification you feel at having completed the work will be well worth it all.
You can make writing fun by...
taking frequent breaks.
brainstorming with writer friends.
infuse creative ideas into your writing.
sketching a picture of your character(s).
creating a collage of certain aspects of your work to give you a visual goal.
Writing is easy if you make it easy. Writing is difficult if you make it difficult. Make writing what you want it to be. Love writing and it will love you right back. Despise it and it will return the heartache.
Do you think writing is easy?
Need a writing boost? Subscribe to the Hope Writes newsletter and get free writing tips: http://www.hopewrites.com/free-newsletter - Visit HopeWrites.com for more helpful writing tips: http://www.hopewrites.com/

Turning Personal Lives Into Dramatic Fiction

2008-03-26T13:11:00.000-07:00

Drama exists in each life. Even people who call their lives dull cannot dodge the drama in them. Whether we are aware of our everyday lives or not, if we ever feel exhausted, elated, or emotional at any time, there has to be some drama there.
In every life, some rain must fall. What is more, in every life, there is some sunshine. Our awareness of these two facts, especially when they collide, helps us to pinpoint our dramas, because what happens to us are events, but what turns events into dramas is our assessments of them and the way we react to them.
We need our dramas to feel we are living. When any writing springs from our life, we are showing we have lived and we have kept the account of our dramas. In the words of the writer Chuck Palahniuk, "Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas... Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown."
When we find ourselves in any traumatic, hectic, emotion-packed situation, we feel a certain type of energy, or sometimes, a draining of energy. So why not use that energy or that energy-drain in our writing instead of staying angry, beating up on ourselves, or to the contrary, resorting to denial?
In a drama school in NYU, each student is asked to write a one-act play of his own life. Through this process, students gain insight and appreciation into the drama in their lives.
When we write in the context of the personal, we get more involved with our plot, and therefore, we may enhance our writing by subconsciously tapping into sources we may not be aware we possess. This type of writing can start with free-flow writing, journaling, brainstorming ideas, lists, letter writing, and even advertisements and official petitions. Then, from its small beginnings, our writing will find the means to flow into brilliant fiction.
If a writer is intimidated by his own life and does not want to make a spectacle his privacy to other eyes, he can always write in third person, and he can rename the people and places in his life. Quite a few famous novelists write from their own experiences, from their own dramas, from their remembered roles, yet by renaming their characters. One such writer is Ernest Hemingway ( For Whom the Bell Tolls, A Movable Feast ), another is Pat Conroy ( The Great Santini, The Water is Wide).
A favorite novelist Isabel Allende, in her latest memoirs, refers to each life as a novel and says that each one of us is the protagonist of his own legend. In another section of the same book, she quotes her husband telling her that she has at least fifty different versions of the way they met. This shows a true dramatist's mind in action.
Writing from personal experience is putting down the heart and soul on paper without any fear of past hurts, hidden fantasies, dreams, or regrets. Once a writer can achieve this, he can also maneuver events, settings, characters, and plot twists to his liking, so what appears as fiction will feel real to his readers.
Joy Cagil is an author on http://www.Writing.Com/ which is a site for Writers Her portfolio can be found at http://www.Writing.Com/authors/joycag

Los Alamos Poem

2008-03-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

Living in Los Alamos,
Is a different kind of life,
Who am I?
I am Angie, Bo Shelly’s wife…
Twins Oaks Restaurant,
Been there once,
Not a bad place to eat,
For breakfast, dinner or lunch
Charlie’s Burgers,
The greatest burger joint,
Yes I like the greasy food,
There’s no reason for you to point.
Javy’s Mexican Restaurant,
Good food at a rapid pace,
Did I mention how quick the service is?
I’ll repeat it just incase.
The city is where I once was from,
No time to meet and greet,
Its different now that I am here,
The friendliness is hard to beat.
No stop lights in the town at all,
Many walking on their feet,
I found it kind of funny that,
There are stop signs on every 4th street.
Goodbye city lights,
Hello stars above,
Hello cows and roosters,
Los Alamos.. I have come to love….

-Some scribbles from off the top of my head, Angie Shelly

Hello!

2008-03-19T13:24:00.000-07:00

Well, I decided to start this blog because I know there are many people out there of all ages who like to write and tell stories. I, on the other hand, love to read stories. I would like to invite you as a storyteller to use this blog to share your stories. Nothing published on this blog will be used anywhere else. This is just a fun way to share your stories. Your tale can be one of fiction, something you have made up for fun. It can be a true story, a comedy, a romance, a mystery. Just remember to keep it clean. This blog is open to all ages and any inappropriate content will be removed at my discretion. Have fun with this! I look forward to reading your unique and creative tales!