Comments about a picture

http://fictionwriting.about.com/od/writingexercises/ss/pictures_2.htm


This man looks extremely dreary with the rain and the seemingly quiet city. Since you can't see his face under the umbrella, I'm guessing that he doesn't want to be seen or is very to-himself. He seems like a deep person, or that is what i would perceive him to be, since he looks very within his own mind as he walks past the litter and bustling people and cars. A beam of light shines behind him, like the sun is about to come through but can't quiet break through the clouds yet. A car also seems to be coming towards him, and he seems to not even be looking forward to tell where he is going. This action of humans makes me wonder if he is anti-social, or that something distracting is running through his mind, which leads him to not pay attention to what's in front of him. This could be somewhat like a metaphor, that he's so in with himself and apart from the world that he can't see what's right in front of him. The beam of light could also be metaphorical, like there is some hope in his futures, but he won't let the clouds break to let it in. These actions could be because of a past childhood experience, if he was excluded from friends or had a quiet - OR - restless home life. Since the picture seems dreary, i think my story will be that way as well.

Juxtaposition: Baby at a Funeral...

Those 8 Mother Months Just "Race" on By...
By: Danielle Baglivo

Karen woke up on Monday morning, not fully awake but aware that her baby belly of over 8 months had gotten bigger since last week. As she woke up, she thought about her baby, and anticipated the following week. She knew her baby boy was due either then, and the kicking in her stomach made it seem even more real. As she huffed and puffed herself out of bed, she tried not to rustle the baby within her stomach. Stretching and gazing outside her left window, she looked down from the beams of sunlight to see there was no one next to her. At first, she believed everything to be OK, expecting her husband to be downstairs making breakfast. This was all untrue as she waddled herself down the steps and into the kitchen, left to see no sign of her husband Steve, though she saw the coffee maker running with no pot under it. Trying to keep her cool, she stomped through the kitchen and scanned the downstairs, ending up with no luck of finding him. After she saw his jacket still lying on the hook, she felt a little more secure knowing he didn’t leave. She ran back up to the kitchen to clean up the spilling coffee, running sink and microwave, wondering why he must have left these on, and what kind of distraction might have led him to do so.

Looking around the kitchen to make sure it was all clean and rid of any working appliances, she reached for the home phone so she could call his cell phone, hoping she would hear it ring in the house. However, her reach for it was so frantic, the phone fell to the ground as the plastic on the back of it flew off and made a huge crashing sound. She tried hard to pick it up, but her protruding belly was restricting her from doing so. As she struggled to reach the phone, she heard footsteps coming from the stairs, which sounded lighter than her husband’s. She stood upright and stopped in her tracks, trying not to make a sound as she heard the footsteps coming closer. All she wished was that the person turning that corner would be her husband, ready and waiting to explain the mess he made in the kitchen. A sharp, familiar voice cut through her raising thoughts and said:

“What was the noise Karen honey-bee?” Nancy? My mother in-law? Karen yelled in her mind, confused and flustered all at once. She could tell it was her by her southern accent. Nancy continued on speaking as she knocked on Karen’s head twice. “Anyone in there darlin’? Y’all oh-kay?”

Stuttering from confusion Karen said: “I…well…I’m fine but, Nancy? Why are you here? What happened?” She knew she had traveled all the way from Pennsylvania (where Nancy has lived all her life) to Syracuse, NY in just one night and she knew she didn’t call beforehand, so there must have been something wrong.

“Why do y’all always think sumptin’ is a matter when I come on down here? I could just be parkin’ by fer a visit – but un-for-tu-netly darlin’, that ain’t the case this time. Somethin’ happened. Somethin’ bad. Why don’t y’all come upstairs with me and see your husband.”

Karen was overjoyed to know where her husband was, but not so happy about the bad news. The two of them walked upstairs to the loft next to their bedroom and walked towards her husband, lying on the couch watching television. As Karen went to sit down next to him, she realized tears were welled in his eyes, which made her even more nervous for what was coming next. When Nancy saw she noticed, she immediately continued on with the news, no suspense needed.

“Alright honey-bee, I’ll just tell you all upfront with this here news. Your father-in-law, Dave, has passed away just two days ago.” She paused and watched Karen’s eyes well and turns towards Steve, who was already balling. She’s never seen him this way before. “But, honey, I wanted to come up earlier, but I had to have some days by myself to rid the pain and plan the funeral date. I knew I wanted to come alone and help yous two by myself. The funeral date is tomorrow, we’re having it in PA and I’m driving yous there tonight, so pack your stuff up – come’on hurry up darlin’s. It’s already 5 o’clock.” Hearing that, Karen shot her head up to the clock, realizing how late it was…and how long she had been up. She ran to her room and packed up her things, and Steve’s as well, since he was in too fragile of a position to do so. By 6:00 pm, they were on the road from New York to Pennsylvania, and the long ride there didn’t help cope their sorrows.

When they reached Flowerville, PA – Steve’s hometown, they were greeted, oddly, in a happy fashion by all of his family members who were at Nancy’s home. It must be something in the flowers…Karen thought. They were all invited into the home and were shown their guest room – or Steve’s old room. When they walked in, they saw race-car wallpaper lining the walls and a hot red and black checkerboard bed, in the attempting shape of a speeding race car. Karen suspiciously gave a look to Steve as he said to himself, “Ah, I remember moving out of this house when I was 19…good times.” Still, with an awkward look on her face, she got dressed for bed at 10:00 pm for the early morning funeral at 6:00 am. Steve slept in his race-car bed along with several pillows taking up the rest of the room, as Karen slept on the floor with the 5 – year – old themed rugs. When Karen woke up, she felt something different in her stomach, unlike any other morning – but she ignored it, thinking it was normal for a pregnant woman to feel. By 5:45am, Steve and Karen were standing by the door, Karen in her maternity-black dress, and Steven in his black suit. Their ride with Nancy in the limo was waiting outside of the home, a bright white and wide escalade limo. As Steve opened the door of the car, they both glanced at each other, in sorrow and in awe of their ride. The 15 minute ride there seemed like the longest, the silence seemed so loud, though the music blaring in the car could have made that so. When they reached the procession, Karen felt an even worse pain in the pit of her stomach – she didn’t know whether it was for sorrow or not. Looking at Steve’s upset face, she didn’t want to bother him, so she ignored it once more. Then, about 30 minutes into the ceremony and in the middle of Nancy’s speech about Dave, Karen realized something wasn’t right. She poked Steve and said, “I think my water broke…”

Poetry: Topic Brainstorm

POTENTIAL POEM TOPICS:
- My first day of high school
- My first day of middle school
- When i got my puppy
- Love
- People i have lost
- People i have met
- Suburbia
- tests and projects
BELOW: (interesting AND difficult topics)
- SAVE ME from suburbia
- My future; Is it hopeful and what i wish it to be?
- What is in my hands now and who i want to be
- How can i handle the rest of high school? How can i enjoy it?
- Students AND teachers...teachers AND students
- My life, My love, my family, my friends.
- All of the above. and what that really means
- things that are difficult in my life now

Poetry: Maya Angelou

POEM: "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" - By Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trillof the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

A.) I believe this poem is good for many reasons. First of all, it has great flow and a different way of rhyming. It used rhyming in a more high sense, and not like mother-goose type of rhyming. Maya Angelou also makes her poetry more deep - and hides a deeper meaning within her poems that makes you want to read over it again and again to get a more clearer though of what you think of it.

B) My favorite line would have to be "The caged bird sings,with fearful trill,of the things unknown,but longed for still" It is because of her wording and her meaning behind these few words. The way she words these poetry not only lets the poem flow, but it gives the poem an eery feel of the unknown. These lines, to me, mean that the unknown to all is scary, though we still fish around and want to know more about it - even if it seems intimidating. The meaning of these lines can apply to anyone's life in a way because we all want to know more about what we don't know - and though it will be hard to do, you have to to get over the fears of what you have never found.

C.) This poem makes me think about those who are watched and guarded heavily by their parents, or by someone else in their life, who is preventing them from the "Dangers" of the outer world. This poetry reflects this well because as the caged bird sings, it is tied down and looking to get out. It's like the child, not literally caged and barred down by their parents, but metaphorically because the only things they can do is what their parents tell them, and they are looking to break through those barrier walls and defeat the strength of parent over-rule. All they can do now is sit, and look out to the world behind their walls and hope for the day they can escape.

Potry: My Thoughts

Poetry is one of my passions and i love every thing about it. I love the way we write poetry, and how everyones form and style is different. The way poetry can rhyme or can be free verse lets the mind explore so many different places when thinking about writing poetry - and doesn't just confined you to one type of it. The other think I love about poetry is that it is my favorite way to express myself from the inside out and how i really feel. You don't have to hold back with poetry and mask what you truly mean inside with fancy words and structured sentences. This is why i don't dislike anything about poetry - because with it's immense amount of ways to write it, and it's large range of creativity, you can never go wrong with any of it.

I have a lot of experience with poetry all throughout my life. I started to really get into poetry when i was about in 4th or 5th grade. I saved all of my poems from elementary school and all throughout middle school to see my progression in what i loved. I realized i write my best poetry when i write about the feelings i have in the moment about MY life- rather than writing it about a subject they gave me to write about in school. When i open my mind to poetry and it's forms - my mind goes wild with every poem i write - making them all different in their own ways.

Some of my favorite poets are: Robert frost, Maya Angelou, Shel Silverstein and Michelangelo (when he wrote as a poet). I love these poets for their diverse styles of writing poetry and the way they express and take on life in creativity.

My Memory: My First Concert

Memory: My first concert; Foo Fighters w/ Weezer

One day, the phone rang with it's screeching noise, letting us know quite well that we had a caller on the line. When my mom answered the phone, I realized it was a close relative by the casually of my mother's tone so I poked at my mom asking her impatiently who it was. As my mother sliced her finger back and forth in front of my nose, warning me to be quiet while she talks. So, with that, I politely listened to the rest of the conversation with my ear to the other side of the phone. I heard a familiar voice, I listened in close and realized clearly that it was my cousin Colleen. I knew that my parents were heading off to California for the weekend, but I didn't know who was watching my and my sister. By my mother's side, I sat on the chair next to her and listened to her closely after the phone conversation ended.

"Colleen and her boyfriend Brian are coming over to watch you and your sister for the weekend...And they have a surprise for you..." She saw the ending patients in my eyes and she said,
"They are taking you to a Foo Fighters concert!"
With the most ecstatic look on her face, she waited for my reply to be just the same and she saw my confused look. Still trying to grope the situation, I look at her with surprise and awe, excited for something new but still utterly confused.

Colleen and Brian were already here on Friday when my parents left, and now it was Saturday, the day of the concert! After the long, treacherous ride there, we walked in the booming room filled with chattering people and muffled, screeching music. We walked down the hallway to our seats, me covering my ears of course to muffle the sound as it got louder. We opened the double doors and waltzed in to our close up box seats. The music started playing, and after I could recognize the words and tunes of the music that played, I felt much better.

This was a great experience, and one I will never forget, and I'm glad I had it with them!.