falling

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Falling

long

painless

waiting

Only a couple seconds now

three,two,one

I hit the ground 

and I'm gone

There are so many things
that no one would ever know,
like the way I always sit
on the edge of my bed,
staring straight out
my fingerprinted
window.

Things change
and life goes on;
the seasons switch
and all the trees will fall.

Yes, the trees,
not the leaves or the shades
that so brilliantly haze
in our memories
of false goldens and
bronzes
(Always defining
either first place
or third) Read more »

I try to wake up

Hoping all this was just a dream

My life

I think of how it used to be

How easy it was to smile

I think of how it is now

How easy it is to break down

To lose control

I'm slipping

I'm gonna fall

I can't hold myself up forever

I try

Thinking I can be strong

Thinking I can overcome all the odds

Shutting out everything

Everyone

Closing myself in

Thinking that I can do it alone Read more »

Based on “And Here We Aren’t, So Quickly” by Jonathan Safran Foer. 
• Read more »

Her life was spent flying high, soaring above the troubles that would have otherwise afflicted her. She is afraid to touch the earth.

She's sat upon her high horse for so long, she's forgotten what it's like to stand on the ground. She's become so used to being held aloft. She is now very much dependant on the hands of others to hold her up. She can't function without help.

But over the years, she's become demanding. She's become very difficult to deal with. People have stopped loving her. She's too stubborn to admit it. Read more »

As i sit and read,
this poem
i ask myself why,
why write this,
I write to enable my
passion, my life
my glory,
I write to tell people how I feel,
poems are to me as apples are to trees,
you think your not going to fall,
but in the end you fall,
you fall to the ground
and you can only rise again,
if someone is there to pick you up
pick you up high,
higher than before
higher than your tree,
higher than you ever thought you would be,
you feel like you can fly,
then you get dropped,
back on the ground you
lie.
you wait to be picked up again,
then in the end, Read more »

Rustling leaves sound hollow and strange
like crying without tears—a feeling
i’ve grown too used to. The season
mirrors this pain and gives it color.

moving in rhythmatic pulse—
a calming chaos
natural.
pure.

i may crumble and fall—
an autumn leaf
beautiful.
real.

with only my words—
another unread story
painful.
honest.

moving in rhythmatic pulse,
i may crumble and fall,
with only my words.

i am a calming chaos,
an autumn leaf,
another unread story.

natural.
pure.
beautiful.
real.
painful.
honest.

You know those times when you look back and try to figure out where you went wrong, when you took a wrong turn?
I felt the wind blowing against my face. So this is what flying is like... I pondered to myself. Having a sense that you are weightless, just a speck of nothingness in a sea of thoughts flying past your head. Except this was different. This was falling.
* * * * Read more »

Did that Honestly Just Happen?

By Jenna Rickson
Essex High School, Grade 11

“What’s our homework?” I asked my Latin teacher as I stood in the doorway of his small office.
“Didn’t you write it down?”
“Would I be asking you if I wrote it down somewhere?”
“Good point. It was chapter three, page 47, dīligentia to Romanī. Study them; we will be having a short quiz next class. I will give you the nominative and you give me the genitive, gender and English definition.”
“Well, that sounds easy enough.”
“Yes, that’s how I intended it to be.”
I smiled and wrote down the assignment on the inside of my palm.
“You know there is such thing as paper.”
“Yes, well I don’t have any of that now do I?”
“Well, I could give you some.” Read more »

When I remember the shooting star
a perfect streak of light across the sky
a thing from heaven
on its tragic fall from above
I am filled with great sadness
of knowing something so divine
could only last so short a time
before the blackness swallowed it up.

But when I saw that star I was a fool
and wished for love and peace and happiness
thinking I could find them in that star
and not on this cursed earth.

For the shortest time it seemed true
so that even now the memory of that hope
stays bright in my mind
like that streak in the night:
a shooting star on its way down to us from the heavens

We who wish on such things are fools
cursed to wish upon a doomed object
to place our faith in something which in moments is gone
in something that could never be beautiful again

A heart full of love cannot stop the world from turning
nor the sea from flowing so I could cross it to you
and in looking at the sky and wishing for
happiness, peace, and love Read more »

I was driving in my old Chevy on the way to Miss. Callingway's. I had the windoes rolled down, the wind whipping my hair back, making me feel like I was flying. The cornfeilds along the side of the road were gorgeous. The stalks swung in the slight breeze. Back to Mrs. Callingway though... Sounds like a nice old lady right? Has a bunch of cats and asks you if you want a warm, fresh sugar cookie? Wrong. Miss.Callingway is the toughest 77- year-old I know. She still runs her husbands farm; and makes it run like a cool, calm river. I'm getting off track though. I was on my way to go help her out when I noticed a small, yet large thing fall out of the sky and land in one of the corn fields. "Probably a crow," I murmured to myself. But then I realized something. Not even the largest crow could be that big. Especially in Oklahoma. So I pulled my rickety Chevy to the side of the road and got out. Read more »

I found some poems I wrote a while ago. I just realized that I wrote a lot of similar things, all about falling. I decided to put them all together. Ha. They really are almost exactly the same. It probably says something about my personality :)

i.
So high up,
I always walk too close to the edge.
Higher than your hands could ever reach
So that when I am pushed
It is that much easier
To fall.

ii.
I desperately need to take the fall
But I am way too scared to jump
And I think that scares me the most.

iii.
I hate to be so
High up because the only
Thing left is to fall.

iv.
I was invincible.
I could jump off the ledge
And fly.
I could do anything.
Say anything.
Be anything.
I was invincible.

But I forgot to knock on wood.

v.
I used to take figure skating
Lessons.

I quit a few years ago
Because
I was always too scared
To fall.

I had a dream.

I had a dream
That I was flying,
So high up,
So, so high.

There was not enough air to breathe
But I could already breathe better
Than I ever could on the ground.

So high
That when I looked at the Earth,
It was only blue and green.
There was no gray.
There was no anxiety,
No war,
No cancer.

When I looked at the Earth,
All of my problems were just so small
And I didn't have to think.

I had a dream.

I had a dream,
But when I opened my eyes,
I was only falling.

Falling
By Leah Kanoff
Fallen through the pain
Falling through the lies
Fallen through the things that were once too hard to bare
The stillness is too great
But the change to difficult to make
She bleeds salty tears
Fallen through the pain
Falling through the lies
Fallen through the things that were once too hard to bare
From the outside, she looks like any normal girl
Smiles and laughs, as she covers the untouched truth which lies deep inside her
Oh make up can play so many tricks, cover up what you don’t want others to see
Make an appearance of who you are, but aren’t
She covers many things as she cuts, cuts her way through life, love, pain, friendships, school and the lies she believes as truth
Fallen through the pain
Falling through the lies
Fallen through the things that were once too hard to bare
Perfumes cover the sense of uneasiness
Untouched she lies and says she is fine Read more »

F
A
L
L
I
N
G
Feels like there is no ground.
No T R U C T U R
S E
To stand on, and feel safe on.

F
A
L
L
I
N
G
Feels like you are sailing through time,
Until you hit the
0
JIL <- My attempt at a letter person.
^
l l l <- falling lines
-------
CONCRETE

RevealersYWP is beginning an exciting new Author Forums series and is starting with Doug Wilhelm -- noted author of The Revealers and Falling. He will be checking into the forums from time to time for the next three weeks. Have questions or comments for Doug? Go to the forums listed below. And please participate. YWP would like to have regular Author Forums, but we can't -- and won't -- if you don't participate. This is a great opportunity to talk with professionals about how they think of ideas, how they write, what problems they face. Click "Read More" for additional info and links.
Links to Forums: The Revealers FORUM .... Falling FORUM

I was born in 1952 in Portland, Oregon, and moved to suburban New Jersey when I was in kindergarten. All through elementary school I was an avid reader. Suddenly, in middle school, I began to write. I was writing stories, poems, even a play. Until then, I hadn't been good at much of anything—I was tall, skinny, awkward, and not very popular—and it made a big difference to feel that this was something I could do.

Like the main characters in The Revealers, I was bullied a lot in middle school. The idea for the novel grew, in part, out of my own experiences. To read about that, go to The story behind The Revealers.

I studied English and played basketball at Kenyon College in Ohio, and after graduating I traveled by land from Europe to India and Nepal. It was a great adventure, and I dreamed of going back. After working as a newspaper reporter and editor back in New Jersey for several years, I did return to Asia, to spend time talking and listening with young people who were Muslim. I wrote a book about my experiences, called Street of Storytellers—but no one would publish it. It was rejected about 75 times! In those years I learned how challenging it is to be a professional writer.

I kept at it, moving up to Vermont and earning my living by writing articles, newsletters, brochures, and things like that for all kinds of organizations. My son Bradley was born in 1987. His mom and I were divorced a few years later, but we stayed good friends. I'm very proud of my son, who's now a tall, strong, kind young man.

In 1992 I was asked to write a science-fiction novel for "Choose Your Own Adventure," a popular series of interactive fiction for young readers. I went on to write eight "Choose" books, and I learned a lot about writing stories that could keep young readers turning the pages.

"How geeky is that?" - a conversation with Doug Wilhelm

This interview with author Doug Wilhelm, conducted by writer Spring Hermann, is published in the Fall 2007 issue of NERA Journal, a publication of the New England Reading Association.

SPRING: Although we've never met, I have learned about you through the www.the-revealers.com website. Tell me about your family and the kind of environment you grew up in.

DOUG: I grew up in a small house in a pleasant, suburban commuter town outside New York City. I'm the oldest of three, and we were lucky to live in a neighborhood that was full of kids. We were always outdoors playing games. Inside my house, things were more confusing. Although they're both sober now, my parents were active alcoholics all during my growing-up years.

SPRING: You say you read your way through elementary school. Do you remember any authors or books that touched you and guided you? Was the public library your refuge?

DOUG: It was! I remember once getting grounded for sneaking out of my bedroom window at night (it was on the first floor) to go to the library. How geeky is that?? In seventh grade, I became obsessed with the historical novel Johnny Tremain. Like Elliot in The Revealers, I was on the bottom of my grade's social ladder, and I didn't want to be living my life at all—so I would imagine myself as a new character in Johnny Tremain, playing minor parts in scenes in the novel.

I was so much tormented in the public junior high that my parents sent me to a private boys' day school for the next two years. Now I had hardly any contact with my neighborhood friends, and at the boys' school I was bullied horrendously—they were professionals. So books became basically my only friends. I remember getting into Twain and George Orwell, but my favorite author that I discovered then was William Saroyan. Read more »

To participate in a forum with Doug Wilhelm about his book Falling, click on the book cover on the left.

Falling, Chapter 1
Choice
By Doug Wilhelm

Read more »

The Worlds First Tag-along
By Forrest Wallace Read more »

I have no fear of heights, in fact, that is where I feel most at home. High above the ground.

I climb up the side of a cliff, clinging to it with nothing more then the tips of my toes and my chalky fingers. Hoping I do no slip, but at the same time reveling in my own insanity. I can't believe I am doing this. Read more »

By Doug Wilhelm
Writer

From about middle school on, when we start to grow self-conscious, people very often become scared to write. We may dream of writing, and long to express ourselves and see our words in print, but we can’t get past the fear.

It doesn’t have to be this way. There is a simple, two-stage approach to writing that can allow you, if you want to write, to produce stories, essays, poems, or anything else without getting all tangled up in feeling you can’t do this well enough.

I know that fear. I have it all the time! Writing is a risk, and it feels especially risky if you want to try something personal or different or creative. It’s not that the fear of taking this chance goes away. It’s that you learn how to get past it.

Here’s how:

We write best when we approach it in two phases: First, producing a draft, and then revising it. (Teachers often break this down into more phases, including “prewriting,” but never mind about that for now.) We actually have two sides to our brain, the creative and the critical.

The creative mind is on the right side, and the critical, or analyzing, mind is on the left. Our creative mind is looser, more childlike, and wants to take chances on self-expression. Our left side – the analyzing, critical side – is more adultlike. It wants things clear, orderly and just right.

Most of us know the inner voice that says: “This isn’t coming out all perfect and brilliant. You’re a bad writer!” That’s where people get stuck. But this is only the critical mind getting in the way of writing’s first phase.

Write fast

There is a way to set that voice aside for a while, so your looser, more inventive, risk-taking mind can give you a first draft.

How can you do this? Simple: Write your first draft fast. Read more »