Entries 09/10

starryeyeddreamer's picture

Dear Grandmother,

Dear Grandmother

By Rebecca White
Hartford High School, Grade 10

Dear Grandmother,

You do not bake cookies. You do not tell me you're proud. You never spoil me or give me gifts. And certainly you have never come to any school function of mine. You are a black sheet over the happy home you've invaded.

You do do a lot though. You clean all the time. You scowl perpetually. You laugh only in spite. You manipulate everyone around you. And you treat your daughter and granddaughter like gum under your feet.

Gramma, we took you in when no one wanted you. We accepted you because you were lonely in your one-person apartment. We emphathized with you. But no more, you have crossed the line. Because of you when I think of family I think of disdain, I think of Christmases where I got glared at and was given a barbie doll at age 14. I think of my home as a place to crawl into and hide in the corners of. I'm unsafe in the one place I should feel welcome.

You have controlled this family for far too long with your racist, prejudiced and sexist beliefs. This should be a clear and concise eviction notice from a stranger. Because that is what you treat us like, as if we were strangers on a bus you didn't like.

Have humility and be kind. Stop making my mother cry.

Sincerely,
The person you live with.

Recipe for Writing a Poem About a Basketball Buzzer Beater

Recipe for Writing a Poem
About a Basketball Buzzer Beater

One gallon sweat.
Two cups motivation.
I catch the ball and one cup of elevation.
Three quarts rotation the perfect angle.
One tablespoon of gravity.
Thirty gallons of pressure the clock counting down 3,2,1
Five tons of the perfect sound,
Swish, we won.
- Sam Parker
3/4/10

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Sam, i liked how you said Two

Sam, i liked how you said Two cups motivation. I catch the ball and one cup of elevation it was really nice how you rhymed them together.

Palettes of Life

Faith

if i could wake to your presence
it would be christmas with presents
long days of lessons
thank god for my blessing

he sent an angel to soil
so loyal with faith
to defy would be a lie
the foundation would shake

for what we fight for
is sacred and above all
leaves of the trees
in the breeze slowly fall

material to no attachments
a sight with no light
blinded life rewinded
my life published and cited

farewell my dear
i was never here
an illusion a solution
sorry for your dillusion

utagirl's picture

Lost

Every day, she writes. Something attaches her to the notebook. The black cover is scratched and faded. Pages fall out and tear at the edges. The silver spiral binding is twisted and bent. It might not be beautiful, but the inside is a whole different world. Her curling, imperfect script flows across the tattered pages, writing the story of her existence. Without the book, she is nothing. As she writes, her chocolate brown hair cascades down onto the page. She is quiet, but the background is filled with the sound of music. "If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks..." No one can tell, but her heart beats along to the sound of music, inaudible but strong and safe. What she writes has no meaning to most people. She writes words, but they are woven together in a way only she could understand. She describes the events of her day in sentences, but she just writes of parts that only she would remember.
" He spoke in a voice that reminded me of every moment I had tried so hard to forget. 'Don't squint your eyes when you smile.' She laughed and put her arm around his shoulder and looked at me with sparkling eyes. 'See. He's nice.' But you have no idea, I think to myself."
Those few sentences alone carry the memory of a whole night. They remind her of choices and dancing and words spoken. It is a mystery how she can hold so much in the space of a couple words.
There is so much weight on her shoulders, it seems hard to bear sometimes. The world throws challenges at her faster than she can catch them, let alone face and conquer them. She walks around in an upside-down world, catching things as they fall to the ceiling. Everything is backwards and difficult to understand. But somehow she manages to live.

Each day, I mirror the world. I copy the actions and words of the people around me just to be sure I don't stand out. Somehow, this seems to backfire. The more I try to hide, the more people look for me. I am a broken chameleon, no longer able to change. I try so hard to become a shadow that I almost disappear altogether. I am nothing. The only thing that ties me to myself is the notebook. Everything is there. That is where I am, tucked in between the pages. I will never let go of myself when I am held by paper and ink.

She is sad. Her face is grey, but not in a way that is visible to anyone. She lets her gaze fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up again. Her friends ask her what is wrong, but she shrugs them off and walks away, putting all of her energy into each step. If you do not pay attention, you can barely tell anything is different. But I watch. I always watch. And I can tell.

I am lost. It is all gone. Forever. How could... Why? I am no more. Nothing but a shadow now. Black, tattered, pages falling, ink, words. All gone. I walk away from the people who love me most. I walk straight until there is no more ground beneath my feet. As I drift through passing air, I notice he is watching. He is always watching.

I don't get her. Today she is happy, as if nothing ever happened. Her friends talk to her, and she talks back. Everything is normal. I almost think I have gone insane, that I had created that whole thing, the sadness, the grey face, the fallen eyes. But then, I catch a glimpse of her face in the sunlight. A tunnel of golden warmth cascades around her, and I can see in her eyes that there is something more inside that isn't being shown on her bright face. I want to go to her, wrap my arms around her strong but fragile body, and comfort her somehow. But I know that I cannot, and I never will be able to.

I do not understand myself. I woke up to the bright light of morning shining in my eyes, and suddenly I felt no sadness or regret or disappointment for my loss. Everything was meaningless to me. I feel nothing at all. At school, I walk around with an empty smile on my face. I talk and laugh like nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. Then, as I walk down the hallway, the light from a dusty window hits me. It cascades in a pool of golden warmth around me, and something inside of me breaks. I take shallow breaths to keep my eyes from welling up with tears, but it does nothing. I am filled to the brim with guilt and pressure and it's all spilling out. Tears flow down my cheeks before I can stop them. I walk quickly, and as I get further away from the light, I realize that I am always running away.

Truth. That is what I saw in her eyes. Truth so real and intense that my heart was nearly shattered from the impact. In her eyes was an understanding that not everything will be okay. An understanding that sometimes you have to let go in order to live a little bit longer. And an understanding that life isn't always perfect. That is the truth, however much we don't want to accept it. That is the truth. And right then, I decide to try and show her that that may be the truth, but that's not the way it has to be all of the time.

A part of me is missing. My heart is unstable, like a house without a foundation, so it just breaks over and over again, hurting more every time. He seems to watch me more than ever. It does not scare me. Not much affects me anymore. It seems more as if he is watching out for me than anything, which almost makes me happy. As I look into his eyes from across the room, he smiles gently and a tiny layer of ice around my heart begins to melt.

I catch her eyes from across the room and without realizing it, I smile. Worried that I might frighten her, I go to turn my head, hide my stupid, grinning face, make her forget that she ever saw anything. But as I go to take my eyes from hers, something changes in her gaze. For the first time in what seems like forever, she looks truly happy. It is fleeting and fragile, but happiness is hiding somewhere in her. It just needs to be guided back into her heart.

Once again, I have gone completely insane. I am beginning to wonder if I have serious problems. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. Either way, it doesn't really matter, does it. I've pretty much given up on caring at this point. I mean why should I? No matter how hard I try to make my life normal, it always shatters into pieces again. As I close my locker my books tumble from my hands, cascading to the ground in a fluttering, disastrous, beautiful mess. I bend down slowly to pick them up and I notice him walking towards me.

My eyes find her without even trying. I watch silently, a slight panic flowing through my veins as her books slide from her arms. I see it in her eyes, her heart breaking. Her binders hit the floor and papers are everywhere, floating, flying. In a strange way, the chaos is beautiful. She bows slowly, fighting the ever-present tears from her eyes, to pick up her books, and as she does, I move towards her to help.

He kneels to the ground, gently gathering my papers, my books, my pencils. He says nothing, just quietly pieces the mess back together into an almost neat stack of papers. And with each thing he places next to me, I feel a little bit of my heart fall back into place.

I pick up her various things and stack them next to her, and I begin to feel as if I am piecing her life back together for her. As I go to put the last item, a tattered black notebook, on the stack of books and papers beside her, I realize what I am holding. Her beloved notebook, the one that had held her together, yet also caused her life to come apart. I place it gently in her hands and look into her eyes, and as I do, a light begins to radiate from somewhere deep inside her. It shines through her eyes, glows on her skin; it is everywhere, so bright and beautiful. Once again, she is happy. But I have a feeling that this happy is here to stay.

As I realize what is in his hands, the breath rushes from my lungs. I have no words. I am filled with happiness. My heart beats wildly, and I finally remember to breathe again. I look up from the tattered black cover of the notebook into his eyes and see that he is just as happy as I am.

I stand, and as I do, I reach my hand down to her.

I take his hand and stand on shaking legs.

I look into her glowing eyes.

I wrap my arms around his neck.

And

our

lips

touch.

A Fight for Equality

The fourteenth amendment of the United States Constitution states that everyone receives equal protection of the laws. A person’s civil rights include freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and equal treatment from government, other persons, and private groups. In the past century, many people have fought for their equality, such as African Americans, women, laborers, children, Native Americans, immigrants, and then there are a few that are still fighting for their equality, such as homosexuals.
Homosexuals are fighting against the world currently to get their right to be married. They fight for their right against the government, against the states, against their neighbors, against many people. People oppose homosexual marriage because they feel like it is changing the state of marriage, because marriage is always stated to be between a mother and a father. The opposing side is widely based on religion, because some feel that homosexuality is an offense against God. Some say that homosexuals should not have the right to get married, but it is their constitutional right. Because same-sex marriage is a national issue, the federal government must act to ensure equality for all Americans.
Civil rights have been continuously expanded throughout America’s history. The gay rights movement is an effort to protect rights and maintain equality for homosexuals, bisexuals, and transgender individuals. “The gay rights movement seeks to educate society about gay issues and to encourage gay individuals to declare publicly their sexual orientation. A major goal of the movement is to eliminate laws that restrict or ban same-sex sexual relations” (Markel 73). This gay rights movement helped increase awareness of the conditions homosexuals are facing. Supporters of same-sex marriage believe that they have the same rights as heterosexual married couples.
Gay rights groups also work to improve ways in which gay people are presented in the mass media and to enact laws that protect homosexual individuals from discrimination. Many support laws that increase the penalties for hate crimes, in which the victim is targeted based on sexual orientation or other characteristics (Markel 73).

Homosexuals have people fighting for them and their rights, just like other groups that wanted their equality. African Americans had to fight against slavery and to win the right to vote. It took years for African Americans to gain their rights from the world, and the Supreme and federal courts had to step in and help African Americans get where they are today. To get equality, homosexuals are also going to have to take many steps against the opposing side. African Americans fought against being ridiculed and people discriminating against them, and that is what homosexuals are going to have to do also. If homosexuals want equality they are going to have to continue fighting against the differing opinions.
Some historical background is needed to understand this issue. Civil unions were an important first step towards marriage equality for homosexual couples. “A civil union is one term used to describe a legally sanctioned partnership between two people, which may be roughly equivalent to marriage. In most cases, people seeking a civil union are members of homosexual couples. . . “ (Christensen-Ellis). Couples in civil unions have the right to federal benefits. Their health insurance can also cover their partner, and they can make medical decisions for their partners. However, under civil unions some couples may be denied the right to adopt children, and they may not be able to cross state lines. Not every state allows civil unions; some that do are Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Iowa (Vermont). These are a few of the states that are now making the attempt to change the view of same-sex marriage. In April of 2000, Vermont took its first step and legalized civil union; this came into effect on midnight of July first. “In the state of Vermont, 1,704 civil unions were performed between July 1 and December 31, 2000” (Andryszewski 94). Then in 2009, Vermont legalized same-sex marriage. However, many people disagree with Vermont’s choice of legalizing same-sex marriage for various reasons.
The arguments against marriage for same-sex couples are based on fear, not rational evidence. Over the years, reasons to ban homosexuality have changed drastically. “For much of the 20th century doctors considered homosexuality to be a kind of disease” (Andryszewski 16). Not only did people call homosexuality a disease but they also believed homosexuals carried infectious diseases. “In 1981 a mysterious, deadly sickness afflicting gay men in the United States was first reported. News of the disease spread among gay men and lesbians in 1982 and among the general public in the mid- 1980s. Scientist studying the disease called it acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS)” (Andryszewski 21). AIDS started a fear of homosexuality, otherwise known as homophobia. “Some medical personnel refused to treat AIDS patients, some ambulance workers and police refused to touch people who appeared to be gay. Some funeral homes refused to handle AIDS cases” (Andryszewski 22). Because of AIDS, people started becoming afraid of homosexuals and hated them. They believed that homosexuals started this infectious disease, which spread through sexual contact.
Eventually scientists figured out that AIDS is caused by a virus, human immunodeficiency virus (HIV). HIV first infiltrated the male homosexual community in the United States sometime in the 1970s, where it quickly spread through sexual contact. HIV has since spread in the United States among heterosexuals and intravenous drug users, through sexual contact and the use of shared hypodermic needles (Andryszewski 22).

The discovery of AIDS greatly increased discrimination towards homosexuals because the public now thought that homosexuals were going to give them a disease.
Discrimination against homosexuals has been more focused on personal opinion than facts. Other than the world thinking homosexuals had a contagious disease, they also discriminated against homosexuals because they felt that being gay was a sin, and offensive toward God. Christians believe that homosexuality is sinful, and that it is not a trait of a person, it is a choice. They believe what the Bible says is right, that God wanted marriage to be between a man and a woman. “If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall be put to death, their blood upon them” (Andryszewski 30).The Bible states that when a man is with another man then it is an abomination. Christians and other religions that follow the Bible are not going to go against what God says and accept homosexuality. Because God does not say that homosexuality is okay, then followers are against it. However, these scriptures are almost two thousand years old, and it is obvious times have changed.
No longer is marriage considered universally in the public mind as a permanent union; no longer is it considered to have any necessary connection to children; no longer does it universally bind to fidelity; and that sex should be reserved for it is today’s unthinkable thought. Marriage has become a mere diaphanous thing (Skrable).

Indeed, things have changed; divorce happens more often than it ever used to, sex is no longer always saved for marriage, and abortion is legal. Times have changed, rules have changed, and people have changed. Marriage is a union between two people who are loyal to each other, and who love one another. Many people today are accepting civil unions as a fair arrangement for same-sex couples; however, a civil union is not marriage. If two homosexuals are ready for their commitment in life, and love one another, they deserve marriage and not the lower standard of marriage.
Even though homosexuals in some states are given the right to civil union, that is not enough; they deserve the right to marry. The Federal Defense of Marriage Act denies federal recognition of gay marriages:
The Federal Defense of Marriage Act of 1996 which denies federal recognition of gay marriages and gives each state the right to refuse recognition of same-sex marriage licenses issued by other states. The act does not prohibit states from allowing gay marriages; neither does it obligate states to recognize gay marriages from other states (Johnson).

Some states have accepted a civil union for same-sex ‘marriage,’ but a civil union is not enough. Civil union is like second class status; it is like saying that marriage is not good enough for homosexuals, and that is not equality. If the federal government does not decide that all of the states must accept same-sex marriage, then the United States is going to have to deal with angered people fighting for their rights. When African Americans were fighting against slavery the United States was divided into slave states and non-slave states, which ended in a huge war. Describing that situation, Abraham Lincoln said “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” If the United States allows this division throughout the country, it will be divided against itself. The federal government needs to stand up and make same-sex marriage legal. This is an issue of equality; it can not be up to each individual state. Same-sex marriage should be legal from one end of America to the other.
One can not tell the difference between a homosexual and a heterosexual based on a first glance appearance. Unless a homosexual has made it clear that they are in fact gay, one would just assume and not know the straight facts. Everyone deserves equal treatment, and to give homosexuals civil union instead of marriage is not fair. Civil unions are like a second choice because marriage is not good enough for a family different than a father and a mother. Homosexuals are only given civil union because the government knows that they have to give them something like marriage, but civil union is nothing like marriage. Discrimination against homosexuals needs to stop. They need to be treated like the average American, and get an equal chance to everything in life, just like everyone else.

Works Cited
Andryszewski, Tricia. Same-Sex Marriage: Moral Wrong or Civil Right? Minneapolis: Twenty-First Century Books, 2008.
Christensen-Ellis, Tricia. “What is a Civil Union?” 2009. Wise Geek. November 13, 2009.

Haider-Markel, Donald. “Civil Rights Movement.” The World Book Encyclopedia. 2008.
Johnson, Ramon. “Federal Defense of Marriage Act(DOMA).” 2009. About. November 13, 2009.
< http://gaylife.about.com/cs/gaymarriage/i/doma.htm>
Skrable, Burman. “Same-Sex Marriage Would Harm Society.” 1998. Gale Group. November 12, 2009.
“Vermont, First to have Civil Unions, Now the Fifth State Where Same-Sex Marriages are Legal.” 2002. Democratic Underground. November 13, 2009.

Snow

I feel sorry for the kids who don’t get snow. It must be awful during winter when they only get rain. No snow, no snowball fights, it must be awful. Just rain, miserable rain.
Here in Vermont, I love it. We get perfect amounts of snow almost every winter. Ahh, snow.
The first snowfall is always an amazing part of the season. A good one or two feet of snow is great. It’s enough to build forts and snowmen and have snowball fights.
Three feet of snow is awesome! Schools will be closed. You can play in snow up to your chest or stomach. Major, huge epic snowball fights and forts will be made.
If it’s four feet or over, it’s almost impossible to play in. A lot of snow is fun, but too much isn’t, unless you want to ski or snowboard. Anyway I… wait! I see snow falling down right now! It’s a snow day! Goodbye, I’m going to go outside! So long!

Pretty Picture

I had the surprise of my life when i opened the door and saw the Pretty picture on the wall. Fire burning in the hall. I'm a witness. I know the truth. Take my life from the proof. I could tell, i could snitch. Hold your breath before i snitch. I control what happens next. I can make you fail the easy test. Your the reason my life is destroyed. Played like a game a child's favorite toy. I'm not a blanket you can drag around. I'm not a pet you can forget about. My revenge is something really strong. All you lies didn't last long. A pretty picture, that all was left. I regret the day we met

Kevsoc5's picture

Dreams of a Girl

Dreams of Girl

She stood amid them
Waiting for him to appear
To rescue her

The one, whom she knew, would show
His love, capturing her soul
The love which would be true

He sauntered through them
Destined for her
The girl
The one who would be

He knew she would be
The one that was going to be there
Through it all

She watched him anxiously as he approached
His eyes fixed on her beauty
The beauty which she doubted so
But she knew, he knew, it was
Under that torn and tattered soul

Her soul stirred as he began to walk faster
His heart fluttering as he drew nearer

His body collapsing onto hers
Her body cold against the ground
His eyes locked onto hers
As he moved closer to her
His words soothing
As she listened intently

You are
My love
Now and forever
I love you

The spoken works she longed to hear
The words that would force her to live
Live undoubtedly in his love
Forever

For he was
The one

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Dreams of a Girl Response

I think that you did an awesome job on this. You used a wide range of imagery. You make it so the reader feels like they are the girl that the guy is coming towards. I also liked how you built up suspense throughout the story which made it more enjoyable to read. I believe that you did a very nice job on your comma use and used the commas at the appropriate times. I also really liked how you put some of how the characters were feeling and how you hit the subject of finding your true love perfectly. Very nice job

A Castleton State College Mentor

Kevsoc5's picture

Thank you

Thank you, I appreciate that you took the time to read my poem and give me this vote of confidence. I try hard on all of my poems and when I feel I succeed it is nice to know that I am not the only one that believes such.

~Love is but the discovery of yourself in others, and the delight in the recognition.~

Mud

Mud

Mud is brown most of the time. Mud is made of dirt and water. You can sometimes find mud in streams or next to ponds. You can find mud on the road after it has rained. When you put water in dirt, you get mud. Young children like to play in it.

The Overlooked Glories of Mud

Despite its being, as a general rule, unliked and seen as an annoyance to the majority of the human race, mud is not as appalling as some seem to be inclined to think. On the contrary it is part of the great mysteries of nature, which we still know but a small amount. This substance is formed when water combines with the dirt that gives it its deep brown coloring. Children who are still rather young have been known to spend many pleasurable hours entertaining themselves in it. Sometimes this is via building bridges across moats which are attacked by mud armies; other times there are mud pies which are built in mud kitchens and are fed to mud covered dolls. The fact is though, these children grow up into the people who forget all of these pleasurable hours and become the ones who can no longer see past the unfavorable parts of it and make the rest of the human race see the same.

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I really like how you gave

I really like how you gave information about mud and brought up the point that almost all of us liked mud at some point when we were little. I know that I used to play in the mud all of the time after it rained. Maybe you can talk about your experiences with mud and what you think of it now.

A Castleton State College Mentor

The Best Soccer Game

One cool Saturday morning when I was eight years old and in second grade I had my last soccer game before the Newberry Cup. I was determined to win.
We did lose the game but I had a moment I’ll never forget. It was the middle of the second half and the other team made a throw in. Brandon, from the opposing team made the throw in. It went to the person behind me and it seemed slow motion as I sprang into the air dejecting the shot with a kick so it went toward our opponent’s goal. My eyes were locked on the ball as it rolled toward the goal then Brandon came and knocked the sight out of me when he blocked it out of bounds.
I played great the rest of the game but as I stated earlier we lost 2-1 but it was my best game of the season.

Understand Her

Take a girl and show her she is beautiful,
Take a girl and show her that you care,
Take a girl and make her understand,
Thatif you dont get her,
Than no one can.

Unperfect

Some people say I'm perfect,
but they're very far from the truth,
if you could really see inside my life,
You'd know I'm telling it true.

My hair doesn't always stay in place,
I spill things a lot,
I sometimes tell little white lies,
and I always get caught.

I'm definitely not perfect,
I have tweaks some people cannot see,
but maybe just maybe,
being imperfect is my specialty.

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I enjoyed the rhyming!

I really enjoyed all the rhyming which took place throughout your piece. I specifically enjoyed the lines where you said, “My hair doesn’t always stay in place, I spill things a lot.” These lines give a little insight as to who you are. In addition I greatly enjoyed your last two lines which read, “but maybe just maybe being unperfect is my specialty.” I feel a lot of other readers may being going through these same emotions. Nice work!

A University of Vermont College Mentor

Unique and Revealing

Dear kkalimorgan,

To me, poetry is a very unique expression of individuality and emotion. I think you really express my definition of poetry in your piece. It’s something we can all relate to; this false sense of perfection, this idea that everyone has to be perfect or they just aren’t right. I love that you really make this your own. Maybe your assignment was to write a poem, I don’t know for sure. What I do know, is that whatever your assignment was, you broke out of the box and made it your own. How do I know this? Because your poem is a topic most people wouldn’t venture to write about and if they didn’t, the certainly wouldn’t admit to their own faults. I really felt connected to you when I read the line “I sometimes tell little white lies, and I always get caught.” It’s a feeling I have too. It’s a feeling I’m sure a lot of people have but the way in which you expressed it is interesting to me. For some reason, everything about your poem just fits. You don’t rhyme, but its still poetry. That’s something I didn’t understand until this semester at college. Here you are in 8th grade, experiencing poetry on a whole different level then I myself ever did until now. I loved that you wrote about how others view you and then connected it to how you would contradict them. It really strengthened your piece in my mind. You can’t go wrong when you’re relating personal experience in writing. Its human nature to grab towards what we understand and what we understand is experience. I think this is the start of a great work of art you have here. I would recommend writing even more. You clearly have a knack for it. I wanted to also praise you for your good grammar and excellent stanzas. You make your thoughts fit just right without changing them to make them fit the form of your poetry. That’s something you should be very proud of! Keep up the good work! I enjoyed your piece very much!

-A Castleton State College Mentor

Persuasion

Persuasion is like a math equation:
Charm + flaunt = you get what you want.
You have to have charm, be witty and clever,
Or what you’re looking for, you will get never.
Then you need to flaunt the perks,
That’s the only way it works.
Make sure that you are confident
And your time is well spent.
Now there is nothing left to do,
Except sit back, relax,
and see what persuasion can do for you.

Good bye

Goodbye

By Samantha Newell
Brattleboro Union High School, Grade 12

I can't say I knew you,
I barely knew your name,
You were a friend's friend,
And life was just a game.

Every time you drew a card,
It all turned out right,
Until the card you drew,
Was the one that took your life.

I hate the dreaded outcome,
I hate the way of fate,
I hate the car that crushed you,
But that’s not all I hate.

I hate myself for crying,
It will not bring you here,
So all I can say right now,
Is I hope its been a good year.

You were a happy senior,
Now you're in the sky,
I really loved meeting you,
And now it's time for goodbye.

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wow

You did a great job with this poem. I could really feel the emotion you were conveying. My favorite stanza was number three: "I hate the dreaded outcome,
I hate the way of fate,
I hate the car that crushed you,
But that’s not all I hate,"

Great Job!

Castleton State College Mentor

sambo's picture

Dear Anne

The only common thing between you and I is that we’ve both shed tears at this very spot. We’ve gazed out the window at the flowing canals, which are now only lined with tourism boats. We’ve brushed against these walls, on which now the whole world’s handprint is layered over yours. My footsteps are blanketed over yours, and those of thousands of others.
The feel of the marks that Otto and Edith made, displaying the progress of your growth, makes me realize that you were once a child like me. I examine it and such a small thing like that brings so much pain to me. Our eyes connect in the sixty-five year old pictures hung up in ancient frames, your innocence soaking into me. I gaze up at the rusty attic, covered by plastic boards, and imagine you gazing back down upon us. The cramped staircases were the same ones you used to go to and from the levels. The rooms were the same ones you sat in, writing the journal that you didn’t know would make you one of the most famous people in our world.
When you hid here, the wood floors weren’t glossy and there weren’t televisions in every corner of every room. When you hid here, there weren’t people at the door accumulating money as a means of living and a gift store at every exit. When you hid here, you didn’t have the luxury of standing outside in Amsterdam on a beautiful day, admiring the sun and the splendor of the city.
I strive to steer clear of the television screens that explain your last days in Bergen-Belsen because if I did, a little part of me would die too. I can’t help but feel upset that out of hundreds of people who have roamed these floors, only a small percent understand. To those people, it’s not just a house; it’s memories that have been disseminated throughout a building. It’s memories that have changed not only individual lives, but the whole entire world.
During this whole visit, there’s one thing I’ve realized. Even after months of studying you and getting to know you, it didn’t hurt badly when I entered the Annex. It was when I left, I looked back, and the tears started streaming down my face.

The Sad Pencil

10 minutes ago in Chicago, a tall girl named Princess was walking along, minding her own business. Princess looked and dressed like Martha Washington.

Suddenly, she saw Bevis, who was weird and looked a little like Godzilla.

Bevis proceeded to crush a beautiful boy's pencil. The boy's name was Cool Cat.

"Stop, you evil villain!" Princess yelled out. But Bevis started to run away.

Princess chased Bevis for a long time. Bevis could run fast and seemed to be getting away.

But then in a final great effort, Princess stopped at McDonald's to get extra energy and surprisingly caught the scoundrel!

Cool Cat was so happy, that he made a sandwich.

Thus ends a good story.

Dino Chicken-Nuggets

We (the dinosaurs) are very humble creatures.
Many tales have been made up about us.
These are the Dinosaur President’s corrections:
1. We did not die because of a gigantic meteor,
We died when mice had taken over our real estate and roaches ate our wool coats.
2. The bones humans think are ours aren’t,
They are the bones of those pestering mosquitos.
3. We do not “roar”, we rather “meow”.
Lastly, the Dino Chicken-Nuggets was never reviewed with us about copyright issues.

Mud Stories: Boring and Exciting

Mud Stories: Boring and Exciting
By Christian Scanlon

Boring:
Mud is typically a combination of dirt, or earth, and water. Sometimes it can include bits of grass, rocks, bugs, and whatever else is found on the ground. Mud is often avoided by humans because it is known to ruin clothing but animals, especially pigs, use mud for many reasons. Pigs roll around in mud to keep cool in the summer months because the caked mud protects them from the sun’s harsh rays. It is also used by animals to keep flies off because the flies can’t get through the thick mud covering their bodies. Mud is also comfortable to pigs who are just looking to relax.
Exciting:
Mud is great! This common substance can be used for an assortment of things, such as running through, playing sports in, and throwing at other people. Mud can also be used as a great disguise or Halloween costume for people too lazy to get anything ready. Fun activities with mud can include penguin sliding, races, and contact sports. The best part about it is it will never run out so it can be used over and over again for your enjoyment!

Sunrise Over Haiti

Sunrise over Haiti

By Isaac Totten
Sheldon School, Grade 8

That wonderful feeling of rest without a care in the world; soft sheets keep sweet dreams and warm feelings inside me; everything is calm and quiet… until Knock, Knock, Knock “Hey guys you’ve got to see this!” This was the beginning to the most memorable and beautiful moment of my life.

It all just started out as a simple thought, “Maybe we can go on a cruise.” This simple (unrealistic) thought turned into an idea and that idea into rock hard reality. Next thing I know I’m in our white Ford SUV on the way to the airport and the beginning of a great adventure.

The plane ride may have been my favorite part. We arrived early in the morning, and as happens every time I’m excited for something I could barely sleep the night before. The airport was so quiet that only our yawning and groggy yet excited voices could be heard. The airport was massive and there seemed to be activity everywhere. Soon people started to arrive and the sound began to rise. This would be both my mother’s first flight and mine and once we got strapped in our seats and the plane started to take off, I looked over at my mother with an excited grin and she returned it with an equally eager smile. It felt like we were sailing through a see of clouds and already I couldn’t wait for the plane ride back.

The cruise ship was incredible! It had sixteen stories and was gigantic compared to our large airport bus. It seemed to rise out of the water, making us look like ants below it. I could never have imagined a ship like that one. It had restaurants, pools, hot tubs, a wonderful view, and gorgeous hallways and entry ways. Our rooms were wonderful; we had two rooms for the four of us. My sister and I shared an interior room while our mom and her boyfriend, Alex, shared a balcony room. It was relaxing to sit out on the balcony and listen to the waves crash against the side of the ship and watch all of our destinations before we land. Although I loved the ship the destinations are probably my most memorable.

It was the third day that I remember the most. We had been sailing for two days and we had been exploring all the ship has to offer. My sister and I had been sleeping soundly in our soft sheeted bed, not a care in the world, only our soft breathing could be heard when there was a Knock, Knock, Knock at the door (as I mentioned earlier) and my mother’s sweet, warm voice calling, “Get up you’ve got to see this.” We just groaned at her and tried to get back to sleep but that wouldn’t stop our mother. She is a pretty woman with spunky, spiky hair and a great spirit of adventure that can’t easily be broken. So we knew that there was no point in fighting and that we should just go and see whatever it was before we miss it. So we opened our door and squinted from the light that blinded our sensitive sleepy eyes and knocked on our mothers door across the hall. She quickly opened the door and both a toothy grin and a blinding light met us.

At first I was stunned and couldn’t work out what I was looking at. Then as I was ushered to the balcony by my mother my eyes began to adjust and the glare wasn’t blinding. I got my first glimpse of our first destination Haiti. I had heard of all the violence that Haiti had and how poor it was. We were a bit scared at first to come and we almost changed our cruise destinations to avoid Haiti but from what we saw that day it seemed like a tropical paradise. We found out later that the part of the island that we visited was owned by the Royal Caribbean and was very safe. It was a green tropical paradise that was so beautiful, I just gaped at it; every one was silent, just watching it as we arrived in the bay. No one said a word for about ten minutes. My mom broke the silence saying, “Well isn’t this the greatest thing that we’ve ever seen.” Tearing our eyes away from the hypnotic sight we were still lost for words finally managing a “Yeah” or “Totally”.
In my head, I began thinking how Vermont (where I live) was keeping away from all of these sites. Its beautiful green mountains that I had always admired now seemed more like walls keeping me in. I watched the news and saw all of the horrible things happening in the outside world, which only made the walls feel safer and safer. Seeing such beauty in a place that was supposed to be so horrible really opened my eyes. It showed me that everything has beauty and that if I just escape the walls trapping me than I can discover new experiences and new adventures. Since that moment I have been craving to get away from here; to travel the world and see things just as beautiful. I saw a sunrise over Haiti that day, it opened my eyes and gave me the motivation to see many more.

New Years Resolution

The music was booming in the back of the vast basement that was the party, echoing off the walls and leaking out of the house, like water leaks out of a crack in a water bottle, spilling over the dank ground. People were staggering out of the open garage door and out into the woods as I lay upon the cool pavement, staring up at the clear, sparkling sky. For some reason I had slipped away tonight, by myself, sober. I had just had that feeling that a person gets when they have a lot to think about.
It was New Years Eve, but the air was as hot and as ever; I didn’t mind, this was home and all I’d ever known. Usually I was the life of the party, meaning that, by now, I would be passed out somewhere upstairs, just to wake up the next afternoon with a hangover and a bunch of questions that would never be answered. Today, I just wasn’t in the mood, alcohol was my escape from decisions, it wasn’t necessary tonight.
I lie there, for what seemed like hours, thinking about nothing. I found myself saying, “All I want is out,” as tears streaked down my face and dribbled onto the cool tar. This was not the life, not the life I had ever even dreamed of leading, but here I was. Choking on my own words, I prayed, “Please take me back; forgive me.” I lay there for another long period of time before I pulled myself up and brushed the remnants of tears from my face.
Seeing as it was New Years, my promise to myself would mean more. “I will get away from this”, I told myself. It will take planning, compromise, and a new start. Everything a resolution was, that is what I needed. As far away from this life as one could get, that’s what I wanted, that was my goal, that is what I aspired to achieve.
I pulled myself up and stood, staring back at the party. People were smoking and drinking in the mouth of the garage, I felt no want to join them. Suddenly someone called my name, "Kelly!" I turned to look over my shoulder at Matthew, a boy that I knew, coming toward me saying, "Come join us! Where have you been? Come inside!" I sneered at him and faced forward again; walking down the driveway, away from this life, the one I was in the habit of living.
After a half hour walk across town, feet bare, shoes in hand, I reached my apartment. I glanced around the place that I was living in with disgust. Plates of half eaten food, clothes everywhere, sink piled high with cups, crumpled up money everywhere, the smell of stale vomit hanging in the air, it was a mess, and I was sad that it had taken me this long to realize what I was doing to my life. I walked threw the mess to the kitchen and took the phone from the wall, dialing the number that I had been so proud to memorize at six years old. It rang twice before someone answered.
"Hello? Do you know what time you're calling at? Who is this?" The voice ranted. Though she was doing what she'd done all my life, what I'd called annoying just before storming out six months ago, I smiled.
"Mom?" I asked, speaking carefully, "Can I come home?"

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Egress is the Only Way

Egress is the only way
Now that darkness is here to stay
No brightness and love
From the skies up above
Where is the way out of here?
The path that is blurred and feared
Show me the way out of here
The path is unclear
This empty space is something I fear
It is not a happy place, my dear
For all year round I see darkness and fright
Why not show me love and light?
I must escape from this place
From this never-ending space
But where is the path I seek?
That takes me away from a future so bleak?

All I Want

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I Speak

I speak to the sun as it shines so bright,
I speak to the moon in the dark of the night.
I speak to the waves that crash on the beach,
I speak to the clouds, when they're just out of reach.
I speak to the fire, as it sparks and it flickers,
I speak to the horses; they respond with their nickers.
I speak to the earth near a high mountain peak,
Now that you know this, to whom do you speak?

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nice!

This was great! I love the rhyme and the rhythm. It has a great flow and imagery. It is neat that theses things are not things that you usually speak too but you make it possible in this poem. I also enjoyed the end and how you make the audience think about who or what they speak to. Great job keep it up.

A Castleton State College Mentor

I love that this poem rhymes,

I love that this poem rhymes, but all the words that you rhymed actually make sense with the topic unlike other poems that you read. Great job.

The Sunset

It was beautiful
Sun reflected off the water
Slowly
Leaving us in the darkness
Sun reflected off the water
Streaked with yellow, orange and purple
Leaving us in the darkness
Like the sky was filled with thousands of colored lanterns
Streaked with yellow, orange, and purple
Like the sky was filled with thousands of colored lanterns
The sunset fades away
I sat and watched the sun go down
Gone
The sunset fades away
No more golden color
Gone
Slowly
No more golden color
It was beautiful