poetryblogofmine

Lies are spoken.
Love is lost.
Fears is revealed.
Goals are achieved.
Mood are stabilized.
Thoughtful days, yet thoughtless memories.

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My Rival and My Friend?

“Salina, is everything okay?” Lumer asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “I was just spacing out a bit.”

“No worries.” said Lumer in a sweet tone, “Isn’t this cool, we’re finally hanging out!”

“It’s great. How long have we been planning this?”

“Since forever! Do you know any of my friends?”

“Nope!”

“Okay well this is Jack”

“Hey Jack.”

“This is Peter, Dillon, Frank, Smilker, Swiss, Enoch, and finally Zeak.”

“Lumer, I’m not going to remember anyone’s name.” I say in a whisper.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s up with the layout of your house? There are 3 garage doors for your 3 car garage, but there are only 2 bedrooms. How is that?”

Lumer laughed. “I don’t really know. I wonder the same thing! The guy designing this house must have been drunk.”

I laughed back, “Go home architect, you’re drunk.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Wasn’t it just one of your garage doors?”

“Well yes, but why is it opening?”

“Is your roommate home?”

“Maybe,” he grinned, “I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s great.”

“Oh, dang it!” I quietly exclaimed.

“What is it?” Lumer quickly whirled around in his spinny chair to see what was wrong.

“I left my purse up stairs, and I need it to text my dad. I was supposed to let him know weather or not I’m staying in the city for the night. I’ll be right back.” I popped up out of my chair still a bit dizzy from spinning. I groped along the walls all the way up the stairs. I was still dizzy and it was dark when I got to Lumer’s room. Lumer made everyone put their coats, guns, and phones in his room so we could hang out free from distractions. He was a bit if a hippie that way. I tripped over someone’s coat on my way to the teacup chair that my purse was in. I fumbled around in it before reaching my nearly dead phone. I managed to send my dad a text saying, “I’m going to Chelsea’s after I dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow. ❤ you.”

I started to walk back down the stairs as one of Lumer’s friends, possibly Smilker, yelled, “Get the guns!” I rushed to the room and grabbed my little revolver from my coat pocket. I put it in my belt and began to lug some of the heavy guns downstairs for the battling men. As I walked passed a window I saw him. Crap! Why is he here? Why now? I saw him ordering his band of fiends around. He glanced up at me for an instant. He gave me a triumphant wink and pointed his gun at the closest man to me.

“Zeak is down!” cried Lumer. I knew why they came, but the guys did not. I went back downstairs with another supply of ammo and the last of the guns. I headed to Lumer to tell him why Cleshon was here.

“Lumer!” I yelled over the gunfire.

“Get back Salina!” he yelled back at me.

“No this is important. I have to tell you–”

“Duck!” He shouted as he quickly got us both into the kitchen. The others were not so lucky. The gas filled the living room. Three of us were left in the house. In just a matter of minutes both Cleshon’s and Lumer’s bands of men were demolished.

“Let’s sneak through the Easternmost garage door. It’s already partially open, and most of the fighting has been on the west side. Cleshon probably thinks everyone is passed out or vaporized. Lets take advantage of the moment.” Stated Smilker. Lumer, Smilker, and I were the only ones left.

“Wait! He’s only here for me. If I go he’ll leave you guys alone. Please let me go out and–”

“No, there’s no surrender to Cleshon. He’ll just have more reason to kill us if he know’s there’s a woman present.” Refuted Smilker. “We all go out the garage. I’ll go first and shoot any goonies guarding the exit then we all run till we reach the fence.”

They did not know the truth. I should never have gone there in the first place. There is nowhere to hide from Cleshon, especially in the city. Women are rare as it is. Men outnumber women 4 to 1 according to the government. (Actually, I’d say it’s more like 10 to 3.) They think I feel guilty cause people always attack for women, but it’s different. That’s not what it’s about. I should have told Lumer. He won’t listen now. There’s no use wondering.

“Okay, is the coast clear?” Asked Lumer.

“Yeah, looks good.” Replied Smilker after shooting down the last of Cleshon’s goonies. He turned around to look at us. Suddenly 3 more goonies came up behind him. I shot 2 down with my revolver then tossed it to Lumer to finish the job (because the third was out of my sight). We all cautiously stepped toward the garage door.

Pop!

Smilker was silently shot through the throat. Lumer screamed in deep agony whilst I ran to the kitchen door on the west of the garage. Cleshon stepped over Smilker’s body. Lumer ran to the other kitchen door. Cleshon, of course, had no interest in Lumer. He walked slowly and menacingly toward the door I had entered. His long black coat made the gothic gangster all the more menacing, the lock of my auburn-red hair still sewn into the pocket. It dangled out. I began to walk backward. I fell then crawled backward out of the kitchen into the living room. The bodies and furniture were all destroyed, but the blood stained the walls and bare boarded up floors.

He stared into my fear stricken eyes as I crawled away slower and slower. Lumer reappeared with my gun in hand and attempted to shoot him as he walked through the kitchen. Cleshon began to laugh as Lumer pulled the trigger, but Sleshon never looked away from my eyes.

“NOOOOOOOOO! Don’t do it! you can’t kill him!” I screamed as Lumer shot at Cleshon twice and both bullets ricocheted back at him. Cleshon smiled as an abusive owner does his dog. I want to run to Lumer, but I can’t do so without confronting Cleshon. Why this curse? I the only one who can kill him, yet I am the only one who won’t. I take a gun left by one of Lumer’s deceased friends. Still crawling on the floor I raise it.

I shoot with eyes closed then open them in time to see the bullet hit him above his right eyebrow. He began to shatter. A drop of blood came from the place the bullet was lodged in his cracking forehead. He never stopped looking at me. There was never a moment that he took his menacing eyes from me. The drop of blood his the ground, and simultaneously, his head shattered along with the rest of him. The only thing left of him was my lock of auburn-red hair.

Write Truth

“‘Yeah, I’m on my way down! Please give me one more minute. I have to finish my homework.’ Leah said as she looked nervously over at the clock. She barely finished it last time. This time she was certain she could not make the deadline. Why do I take math anyways?”

“Stop! Stop. Just stop,” Mr. Higgins interrupted. “Okay, can anyone tell me, what is the problem with this story?”

“How can we even know what’s wrong with the story before we’ve heard it?”

“Don’t ask such silly questions. This is a creative writing class, I expect you to answer my question without argument every time I ask one.”

Marion raises her hand.

“Yes, answer Miss Marion.”

“I think it’s a rather pleasant beginning to a story. It’s properly worded, it makes you a bit curious, and it’s relatable. I mean, who doesn’t hate math homework?”

The class laughes.

Mr. Higgins slaps the desk, frightening all the students.

“EXACTLY!!! You finally get what I’m saying!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Higgins, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Her story has a nice beginning. It’s exactly what you asked for.”

“Exactly!”

“Okay, since you students are so inadequate I will have to explain. It is everything you expect it to be. When you begin reading a story, you look for allusions to the past, foreshadowing for the future, a little anticipation, and it is to be tide together in a sweet little narrative. Everything else falls into place after that opening paragraph. It is supposed to say the entire story in one line. When a story is summarised by ‘Yeah, I’m on my way down,’ what do you think it is about? What do you think the plot is centered around? What is the meaning of that story? The beginning line is everything. The beginning line is what everyone remembers. The beginning line is what every thing hinges on and revolves around.Tell me, what when you think of a song, besides the chorus, what line pops into your head?”

“Okay, we understand. Can we talk about something else?

“You want me to talk about the end line?”

The class sighs.

“No  Mr. Higgins.”

“Now, does anyone want to volunteer to read his or her story?”

“No one wants to read now! You’re just going to insult everyone else’s work!

“Is there anyone who can give me a good first line?”

“None of us have crazy-cool first lines! You told us yeseterday to use the least possible amount of words to write an exciting story about something boring. We weren’t supposed use any descrition or write any extensive descriptions. You told us to start our stories with a quote from the main character.”

“Well then why not make the main character Dickens and make the opening line a line from one of his books? Why not start the story at the end of a character’s speech? Why? Why are you writing? What do you want to want to say?”

“When you wright your beginning line, speak truth.”

Book Review: The Giver

 

“The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.” 

I recently read a book titled The Giver, by Lois Lowry. This book was a very fast pace book about a boy in the transitional stage between boyhood and adulthood which is twelve in this world. He lives in a society, possibly some time in the future, where everything is controlled and monitored. No important choices are made by the individual, but rather by a group of people who were picked for said task by another group. Jonas, the main character, is selected to be the society’s next Receiver of Memory. As the Receiver of Memory he has to hold all the memories, good and bad, of past societies. Throughout the book, Jonas struggles with the idea of conforming to his perfect society. He begins to believe his society has given up too many good things (i.e. sun, color, love) for stability and peace.

The book has a surprising amount of depth despite the fact it is a kid’s novel. There is an underlying sense that people should not blindly follow in the tradition of their leaders and ancestors. There is a message saying that people should to break free and think for themselves rather than continue in tradition for tradition’s sake. The book is easy to read, the characters are endearing, and the plot progresses quickly. One downside, however, is the plot’s lack of length. The book i  rather short and ends rather abruptly. In the end, the reader is left unsure of what happens to the character. The reader has to determine for himself what happens in the story after the pages end.

Overall, I would not read this book dozens of times, but it was a good one time read. The book is an entertaining story that encourages readers to think and to challenge the way they believe.

 

Quote from “The Oak and the Broom”

Disasters, do the best we can,

will reach both great and small;

And he is oft the wisest man,

who is not wise at all.

– From “The Oak and the Broom” by William Wordsworth

Maybe This Time we Stood for a Cause

Why are you looking at me so?

We’ve argued for centuries.

You started on your land and ended on mine.

I started on his land and began on yours.

Where have those moments gone?

To what avail do we fight? Is there a beginning or end?

Do we use reason or logic?

Are there sides to the argument?

Whose side am I fighting for? Whose side are you fighting for?

I don’t know anything aside from the fact I’m against you.

Where do we go when it’s over? Is there a reason to exist otherwise?

You know I’m not so sure where we’re supposed to be standing.

I’m not so sure we should be standing at all.

There is no reason to fight. Should we lay down our arms?

NO! If we quit that means we’re both losers.

If we quit that means we’re both weak.

If I lie that will build me up stronger.

If you feign that will gain you respect.

If we shed blood we will improve in our standing.

If we die we will assure spots for our kids.

Where did we start off this battle?

Were we fighting to fight or just for a cause?

Is there a reason to believe any different? Is there reason to believe anything at all?

Wait… What was that again?

I forgot why I was speaking…

Oh wait I remember now.

You’re a fool and my opinion is better!

I’m more moral and perfect and sane.

I know where I stand, I really think so. I remember why this whole thing began!

If you spend your whole life in a bubble,

If you live in the inside in safety,

you’re just a weakling not willing to stand for a cause.

I think causes are what we stand for,

Aren’t they?

What causes?

I don’t know. I care not.

Have we changed?

Sure, we’re different. I know!

Have we stood for what’s right or what’s fair?

Have we picked up our swords and our guns at the proper time?

We’ve done it right!

Tell me our motto again.

Yes we’ve done it right.

Next generations will applaud.

They’ll say we’re like gods.

Yes, maybe this time we stood for a cause.

Final Moment

Thump thump

Thump Thump

Thump thump

Thump…

Breathe… Remember to Breathe.

Don’t look at the crowd.

Don’t listen to the noise.

Another deep breathe.

Okay… I think I’m ready.

Out of the corner of my eye I see

the old angry man scowling with eyes closed.

I hear the crunching and giggling of children.

One angry mom yells and signals to her kid;

“Get ready!!!” she screams.

A drop of sweat ventures from my forehead to my chin.

I hear it splash on the wood floor.

I feel a fly flutter past my neck.

Everything moves fast in slow motion.

All rests on the next move I make.

Each eye shifts from me to the clock.

The pressure worsens every second.

One…

Two…

Three…

Fwooosh, the ball goes in.

The game is won.

Our Hearts

“I just can’t take anymore pain,” she said as she looked up with tears streaming down her face. He looked at her, unsure what to say. She continued, “I love you, but there isn’t enough of my heart left to break. I’ve given you every piece.” She began to mumble and sob so hard he could no longer decipher what she said. She clutched his arm for support burying her face in it. He felt so much. There was so much he wanted to say, but how to say it? “Please,” he said as he lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. He knew she was right. She had no more to give him. It was his turn. “I’ll do anything,” he said. “How can I be sure?” she questioned, “Are you just going to hurt me? They’ve hurt me too much. I have nothing to give you.” All at once he began to smile bitterly.

“I am here. I want nothing from you. I ask nothing of you. I desire your happiness alone.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

A look of horror spread across her face as he pulled out a knife. He dug it into his chest, and his heart began to glow red. He was cutting out his heart. For the next gruesome 30 minutes he dug his heart out of his chest. He broke ribs, tore apart muscles, and sliced through veins and aortas, but he got his heart free. It was glowing and bloody but still pumping when all was said and done. Then he look back to her. She had been watching him the entire time. Sometime while he was digging out his heart she learned what she had to do. So she removed her own heart. She held the shattered, burned, bruised pieces of a heart that remained with her. When he saw how abused it was, he wept. He dropped his knife and held his head with that hand. She just waited as he mourned on her account. When he regained his strength, he lifted his heart to the gaping hole in her chest. Neither one knew what was going to happen. They both watched as her chest began to grow back around his heart. At the same time, her own heart which she handed to him was healing itself. They watched in amazement as pieces of her heart grew back and were restored to completion. He began to get feeble as she healed. Soon he fell to the ground and his body began to decay rapidly starting with his chest and spreading from there. She realized the problem, his body needed blood. She quickly knelt down to put her heart into his rotten, decayed chest. “Will we be okay?” he asked. “This time my love,” she replied.

Jaqulin vs Janis

Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap

 “Okay class, who wants to go next?”

*Silence*

“Okay then, how about you Janis?”

*Silence*

“Janis isn’t here today. Jaqulin is here.”

*Sigh*

“Jaqulin, would you like to speak next?”

“No, I would not like to speak next. I would like to speak only when I chose to speak.”

“But you don’t speak at all when I give you the option.”

“Well then let me alone. I shouldn’t have to speak at all! People speak enough every day! People practice speaking from the time they are born before they even know words, so why must we take a class on speaking?”

“Jaqulin, speech class is very valuable. It’s a good lesson and teaches good people skills. I strongly advise you to speak today!”

“Well then I will speak, not because I desire to, but because I have a lesson to share.”

*Jaqulin walks to the front of the class*

“Funny how people are. They think they are alone. We go our entire lives thinking we’re unloved by everyone we meet. Granted, most grow up in families that do not accept them. We grow up feeling that our bothers her mothers and fathers hate us. Step-moms force kids’ own fathers to kick them out. Fathers are to selfish to say no. I am inclined to think they feel alone because they grow up feeling that way, but what about the people that were there for them when they are children? I mean we have some family members that seem to love us more than anything. We have always had people there for us to love us. Even now there are lots of people who listen to us all the time. I think we just have a tendency to feel alone. I think all people do. In some way every person is alone. There is no person on the earth who knows you so well as you do. Even at times you don’t know yourself. There is no one that knows how you feel. Even when people understand they don’t really know. There isn’t anyone who cares about your problems as much as you do. People are inherently selfish. As much as you try, I guarantee  at the end of the day you are more concerned about your own problems than anyone else’s.

Knock Knock Knock

*The door opens and Janis starts talking.*

“You know, we’re all alike in so many ways. Each person feels alone. Everyone gets sad. Everyone feels unloved and unwanted at some time or another, but that’s why we need eachother. Have you ever been so sad and so down that you felt there was no reason to live? I know at times I have, but people have lifted me up. Friends, family, even strangers have made life better in small ways all the time. It’s funny how a smile in the grocery store can make a person’s heart jump from sadness to joy. People get down all the time, and as friends we should be willing to pick them up. Yes, some try to hurt us, some accidentally hurt us, but that is no reason to give up. Everyone is the same in many ways. Everyone needs others. Everyone needs people to care about and people to be cared about by. People feel alone, but that’s what brings us together. God gives us other people because it is not good for man to be alone.”

SMACK 

*Someone hits a fly with a textbook and Jaqulin continues.*

“Everyone is alone. There is no one that is the same as you. No one knows what your life is like. No one has been through the same life you’ve been through. There is no one that cares! No one wants to know you. No one is like you. No one sympathizes with you. At the end of the day everyone is alone. Each person is walking through life without anyone else. There is never a time, even when you are pouring your life out to another person that you can really open up. There is never a moment when a person understands you perfectly. There is never a time when someone cares about you more than you care about yourself. No person on earth will love you as much as you will. At the end of the day you aren’t special to anyone else. At the end of the day the people around you are just using you to make themselves happy in one way or another. In the end of the day, at the end of your life, when you reach the end of your life, there is no one who cares like you care about yourself. That’s why God says love one another as you love yourself, cause you’re the only person who loves you that much. In the end, you always forgive yourself. At the end of the day you always overlook your problems. At the end of the day, you don’t hate yourself. Your friends will become angry. Your friends will hold grudges. Your friends will talk bad about you. Your friends will tell your secrets. Your friends will hurt you any chance they get. At the end of the day we’re all alone… So what do you have to say about that?”

Beep

*A watch signals the start of a new hour, and Janis continues.”

“Sometimes we feel like no one cares, but there is no better time to care about others than when we’re lonely. We should always care! There’s always some one in need. There’s always someone to love. There is always a chance to forgive. There is always a chance to give. So many people are alone. So many people feel betrayed and unloved. Why are we so concerned about our own problems if we could be listening to what others need? How sad we are… How depraved we are… How desperately we need to care for others. We should love before others love us. I always feel like I’m the processor of everyone’s problems. People in my family want to tell me what vexes them. I try… I try so hard to listen, and there is always a chance. I try to give every portion of myself to others. Everyone should make a huge effort to cheer others. People should strive to bring out the best in other people. We get so caught up in ourselves that we forget what we ought to be doing.”

Ding Ding Ding           Ding Ding Ding 

*The hour is over and Jaqulin looks at the class.*

“Take my lesson to heart.”