Monday, March 4, 2013

Same Sad Tale

She hides and screams at those who listen
The fire shines as her blue eyes glisten;
Ever so slightly, but still silence the flames
For if only her stormy waters could be so tame

Edging to insanity, not finding the end
Not finding a way to make, break, or mend
What's been thrown on the dirt, forgotten and tread on,
And no one seems to realize that it hasn't yet gone

While you ignore it and find new adventure
The same sad tale continues to bend her
Until she's warped and twisted and so out of place
You soon can not bring yourself to recognize her face

You think you're healing her, telling her that she's not doomed
But all you're really doing is throwing salt into the wound
As she's hating the world for one little thing she's waiting for someone to say
And as the hours grow on, she doesn't think she can take one more day

The silence kills, the pain will take her down
Unless everything she knows is turned around
Her complaints fall to impaired ears
As the wonder only amplifies her fears

So she holds to what she has, the anger her fight
There's only one way to the legend's light;
To sort through all the hate,
But she can no longer wait


Sunday, November 4, 2012

Rap Battles- George Washington V.S. King George III

KG: Well if it isn't little Georgie in his dingy blue coat?
I'm gonna show you how to fight, so you'd better take notes!

GW: At least I can write, you illiterate prick
You couldn't read 'til you were twelve 'cause your mind was sick!

KG: You do realize that I'm the big K-G-3
-And you're just some doofus who cut a cherry tree?

GW: Big as in the size of your daft royal head?
You think you're some war general, but all you've got in there is lead!

KG: My war strategies are top notch- now you know that ain't no puzzle
So shut your mouth 'homedog', before I get you a muzzle!

GW: Your 'strategies' are lame, for as the Yankees would say,
We can see those bright red coats from a mile away!

KG: It doesn't  matter if you can see the very whites of our eyes
You could be staring right us, and we'd still take you by surprise.

GW: Speaking 'bout surprises, what about your disease
and how you think that you're dying every time that you sneeze
Your illness makes you crazy- guess that's why you tell us lies
Here's a straitjacket- why don't you try it on for size?

KG: Oh, you foolish little Yank, you have an eye to observe
But sit down at the table because you're about to be served!
You Yankees gonna hate me 'cause I be taxing your tea
But you've only got your 'country' through my family!

GW: We don't care who paid for our land, and quite frankly,
We've all come to these colonies just so we can be free.
Your redcoats better watch it 'cause we're playing to win
And your interference is like one giant sin!
I can hardly hear ya' over your porphyria,
And you think future rulers should mirror ya'?

KG: So clever, my dear Patriot, but my wisdom still rings
and these battles- rap and revolution- aren't over 'til the fat lady sings.

GW: So Queen Charlotte will be joining us? Oh, what an occasion!
Her vocals will easily be scarier than than your bloodyback invasion.

KG: Your 'country's' freedom is sinking-

GW: Ahh, that's just wishful thinking.
You want to keep your precious colonies from merging into one.
Well, good luck with that. Wake me up when we've won.

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Who do you think won? And who should be in the next rap battle?

Monday, October 15, 2012

Arcadia

Since everyone wants new members and new posts, fine. I'll write something.
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A small little boy with feathery brown hair
A bright golden heart but deep hurt in his stare
Caught in the hands of evil with someone who should love
His mother's faulty 'wisdom' did not come from above

There was only one thing that could keep this quiet boy sane
Despite, how in his mother's words, he was 'wasting his brain'
Only one thing to keep the storm in his eyes tame
This innocent young boy had always loved to game

The push of the smooth buttons with his nimble fingers
It was here, when he was hurt, he would always linger
The arcade was always there, holding together his life like tape
And it was here that he would find a great escape

One day while pushing buttons during a heated sword fight
The boy rose off the floor and was sucked into the light
His feet returned to the ground, but the floor was not the same
It was earthy and green and pixelated- just like in the game

In his hand he held a sword, its blade posessing a brilliant gleam
He was strong-unlike anytime else in his life, it would seem
But now the boy who cowered in the corner stood like a tall tower
And in place of the raging storm, his big brown eyes now held power

And so the boy ventured on his journey at the mercy of a game
But his pixelated predators could not defeat the boy with the much chanted name
It was an amazing escape for a boy trapped in despair
Who now held triumph in his eyes to fill his empty state

--------------------
I came up with this idea from a song my brother played in his car. The song featured the sort of music you would hear in video games, and I visualized a story to go along with the music. I envisioned a small boy- a victim of his mother's abuse- playing video games in his safe place, the arcade. Suddenly, the Bo is sucked into the game and becomes a heroic video game character, journeying through the game and defeating the forces that oppose him, giving him the strength and power he had never had in his normal life.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

New members?

  Unfortunately, some of our members have been leaving and most of us don't have time to post, due to school, I think it's time we bring in new members. These will not replace already existing members,unless you plan on leaving, but will add to our numbers. I already have a friend in my mind whose writing had been growing very well. Do you guys think we should have new members?

   ~BSH

 

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Poem About My Mother.

We had a homework assignment which was to write a poem about either one of our parents and I chose my Mom, she was a little angry at me that day so I am glad this made her a little bit happy. 
Feel free to critique it and tell me what I did wrong.
I'm particularly proud of this poem, and it's the first poem I've written that I'm proud of.
This is also my first post here. You're going to be seeing more of me here, I've been reading a lot which has inspired me to write a lot.

Mother
My life without her
would be tedious, mundane and bland.
She’s a small sweet cocoon
that shelters me
from the wild, the evil and the foul.
Her smile glows like the radiant sun
that lights up the earth.
I wish I can and relive
all the precious moments I spent with her
and I hope they live eternally.
She’s a voluminous tree
that keeps me shaded
from the wet and stormy nights.
Her hugs are like shields
that keep away enemies.
Her eyes are flowing rivers
of burnt umber paint.
She’s a never ending basket of joy
that lifts my spirits.
Her love is immortal and vast
and stronger than the force of gravity.
-Rawan

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Prologue to '13 may be a lucky number'

   Title of my story is definitely not 100% yet. This is just the only title I could think of. This may not be the world's best prologue, (I'm definitely not the world's best author for that matter either) but I'm gonna try.  Here it goes:



   Prologue
    He was running. He had to get the child away from all the enemies that were hot on his trail.  It would break what was left of his heart, if they would get their hands on her.
    He was almost there. They would shelter her from everything. He knew he should be happy with the arrangement, but why was he feeling so upset? He shook himself. The couple had recently lost their unborn baby, and after hearing about it, he quickly offered up his child. The couple would offer shelter and never show her his world.
   The black bundle in his arms made some whining noises. He stopped for just a second to study his child. Her onyx black eyes bore into his equally black eyes. He put his hand carefully on her soft head that was so vulnerable. He replaced his hand with his lips. He drew back and noticed she was developing the soft black hair that reminded him so much of her mother. He kept walking, though at a noticeably slower pace.
   He reached the meeting point. The couple was already there. Luckily, they knew the price if they ventured any farther. It would cost them their souls.
   He stopped right in front of them. He thrust out the little black bundle. The skull keychain banged against the side. He cringed. He wanted to remove the keychain, but the truth was he wanted to keep her connected to her roots.
   The couple grabbed the black bundle before he even got to say hello. They were that excited, eh?
   He murmured," Goodbye, Phoebe."
   And that was that.

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I'm proud of this prologue. Comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!!! 

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Time to Say Goodbye

  Hey everypony, it's Carolyn!  I decided that I need to cut down on all the blogs I own.  It's quite crazy the amount that I have right now, and it's simply not going to work all that well.  Therefore, I'm going to remove myself from Siete de Awesome.  I've never really posted my work on here, so I feel like it's just taking up space on my dashboard, I suppose.  I love ALL of y'all here!  I'm not leaving the blogging world, just this blog.  Love you all! <3

~Carolyn