Without A Gun

Morning comes,
My alarm goes off,
I get up off of those papers,
Those empty papers,
That I haveto turn in,
I slovenly put them into my binder.

Walking into the entrance,
I can't believe I have the audacity,
To go in unprepared,
My life in strands,
It's like walking into war,
Without a gun in my hands

Teachers tell me to take out the paper,
And I do as I'm told,
It rankles them,
As they watched my empty page unfold.

I stay there,
Lackadaisical as I came,
And take the rebuke,
My expressions the same.

She takes the paper,
He rebuffs my work,
It's like walking into war,
Without a gun in my hands.

Book Review: Among the Hidden

Among the Hidden

Margaret Peterson Haddix has started an intriguing sequence of books called the Shadow Children. The first book, Among the Hidden, is about a young boy named Luke Garner who is forced to live as a recluse because he is a third child. The thing about being a third child is that they are illegal in this dystopian society created by Margaret Haddix. This law is enforced by the population police, and it’s penalty, is death.

Luke, although completely terrified of the population police, has a thirst for adventure. He wants to go out and explore the world like the people in the books he read (the books that keep him entertained while locked up in the attic. His curiosity towards the outside world leads to him looking out of a small vent that he has in his room with a view of his whole neighborhood, where he analyzes all of his neighbors. Studying their homes and lifestyles, even though he doesn’t know their names. He fills this lack of information by calling the families by the attributes they consist of. A family that does sports everyday is the Sports Family, a family with a lot of birds is the Birdbrain Family, a family with all blond hair is the Gold Family, and so on. So after weeks of familiarizing himself with his neighbors, he sees something very odd in the Sports Family’s house. A child, in a house where two others, already live…

This is a start to a great series of books. If you’re looking to be entertained for a long time, I suggest you start with Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix.

My Sister

Is a peacemaker,
Stopping me from being infuriated.

A savior,
Picking me up when I'm down.

An executioner,
Hurting all that hurt me first.

She is a fragile glass,
One push,
And she breaks.

She is a strong wind,
Pushing against my back,
Urging me to keep on going.

Because of her I'm resilient,
Because of her I'm resistant,
Because of her,
I'm stronger.

Confessiopn Tuesday

Memoir Monday

Papers,
Scattered across the room,
No pens to be found,
My binder,
Hidden beneath the mess,
And I can't make myself finish it.

The memoir,
At the tip of my tongue,
But not yet onto the keyboard,
And written on the screen.

The math problems,
Are a mystery,
How should I know how to complete them.

Looking at it all,
I realize,
How disorganized I am,
How messy mi life is,
And how confused.
I have always been.

Daniela

My sister and I used to be the same,
When people talked to us on the phone,
They mixed up our names,
We used to like the same music,
We used to like the same shows on TV,
We used to like to do the same things.

But now my voice is different,
I know like harder rock than she does,
I bore myself with the episodes of meaningless crap she likes to watch,
And we never do anything together.

Though our relationship is falling apart,
I like to cherish,
The little things,
We have in common,
It's what keeps us together,
It's what makes us siblings.

Slice Of Life Thursday

Minutes go past, like people passing through times square. Helplessly, I watch as the night goes away. I don't know what to write about for my Slice Of Life. The words that come out on the screen have no continuation. The key on the keyboard that I have most hit is the backspace. Nothing to write about, and it's almost twelve o'clock. I wait until that time, to see if I think of something, but no. It is twelve, and there is not one word on this post. I close the screen, and turn off the computer. I call it a night, and go to sleep.

WWWednesday

My Wordly Wise Wednesday is about the abhorrent topic, Megan Fox being kicked out of Transformers 3. I honestly think that transformers will be amiss without Megan Fox. I also think that Michael Bay is an irascible idiot, I will give him a tirade about how Megan Fox is the best actress of transformers and that firing her was the most despicable thing he could have done. He impels me to smack him across the face with a decepticon. Maybe my profound love for Megan Fox can have something to do with this rant, but I know that I speak for most people when I say: Not having Megan Fox in Transformers will rankle viewers everywhere and Michael Bay should be rebuked.

Mentor Texts

I hate mentor texts, and everything that you use them for, mainly because all teachers tell us to use our own words, but when we use mentor texts, we're using the other writer's essence, instead of our own. I think that we should not have mentor texts because having a mentor texts eliminates the "voice" part of your writing, and if you ask me, i'd think that voice is pretty important in any assignment for english.

Memoir Monday

I got to the party late, at night. I took off my sweater, took my phone out of my pocket. I didn't even have time to look back before miguel poured the freezing cold bucket of water on my head. I remembered that i was suppposed to bring extra clothes and a towel. Crap, I forgot. I stood there with water trickling down my neck and into my shirt. Not long after, the cake was brought out at which point everybody was throwing cake around, and I was the main target. Then i remembered again, the invitation, bring extra clothes and a towel. So I stood there, wet, cold, and with my shirt smelling of chocolate frosting. Maybe next time I should listen to instructions.

Wordly Wis Wednesday or something

Anonymous

97 Chill Lane

Coolsville, Epic Land 12345

September 8th, 2010

Dear Tisha,

How are you? I have been working on this letter all day, and I must admit that it was quite a surprise when you made that spontaneous modification to our assignment. Though I should have seen it coming, due to your love for Wordly Wise words. Anyways, I think that this prevalent recurrence must stop. We think it's a normal blog entry, then we see your guile towards us eigth graders. You should atleast instill the change before we get our hopes up. Because then we won't have to extricate ourselves from our original idea of what we were going to write. Mrs. Meadows, it is imperative that you read this message, and it is pivotal that you take action.

Your friend,

Dr. Castillo

P.S. Ten wordly wise words. Because I'm just that cool. B)

Confession Tuesday

My confession Tuesday is about doing my work in the day. Every day, I try desperately to do my homework in the day, but in the end i always get bored and end up watching TV and falling asleep. Then in the night, right before going to sleep, i start doing my homework (although I'm still distracted by facebook and youtube) and falling asleep late, and regretting it in the morning.

Memoir Monday

I wake up on a saturday morning,
I leave my dark-cold room,
And go out into the warm-sunny kitchen.

That's when i see him,
My fish still hasn't woken up.
He was still asleep, his belly was facing upward.

I tapped the glass,
And tapped again,
Saying, wake up Goldy.

But it was useless,
I tapped in vain,
I soon realized,
My Goldy was dead.

Slice Of Life

Rushing through papers,
books,
folders,
To get the one homewok that matters,
My dad's coming in 10 minutes,

Rushing through questions,
graphs,
equations,
To finish the work,
My dad is here, I'm not finished... Crap

Confession Tuesday

1. I say I'm going to stay up late so I can do my homework, and I do... The staying up late part.

2. I finish my homework in the early morning.

3. I spend countless hours a week on the TV, watching shows that vary from family guy, to the occasional jersey shore.

4. I think Snooki is awesome.

5. I hate doing glogs.

6. Im a total video-game geek.

7. I'm not tidy, responsible, or organized, something everybody is pressuring me to be.

8. I have come to a conclusion that I have a discapacity to do my homework in the daytime.

Saturday Comes

Finally.
Not just because the week is over
But because I get to go to my dad's apartment
I get there and we rent a movie,
Usually one that is part if a saga,
Like Final Destination,
Or one that we had wanted to see when it came out,
But didn't.

We buy ice cream,
My dad buys caramel brownie,
My sister mango sorbet,
And I get plain vanilla.

We get home and watch TV,
ABC or the NFL channel, depending on who's playing.

Then we watch the movie,
my sister and dad on the couch,
And me on the floor because I get hot.

We watch TV,
together,
Until it's time to sleep.

Saturday comes,
Not just because the week is over,
But because I get to be with my dad.

Tell Tale Heart, Point Of View of Old Man

The room, silent. I heard a noise, a demented evil chuckle. The sound electrified me. I moved suddenly, but then, I was still, gingerly listening for another sound. And then, in the midst of silence, arose one of a metallic clink. I sprung up in my bead in a cursory manner.

“Who’s there?” I cried out. I could not see this person, for the room was black as coal. But I knew he was there. I surmised he was there.

Now, I sat there for an hour, maybe more. If there was someone in the room, he would be one that could simulate that of a statue. But I knew he was there.

Out of fear, I said to myself, “It is nothing but the wind in the chimney.” Or “It is only a mouse crossing across the floor.” Or even, “It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp.”

More time passed, and I was still up. And then, a ray of light fell upon my eye. My heart started pounding, and I became for frightened yet. I wanted to run, but the gruesome thought of what would happen to me, paralyzed my very muscles. My heart, as loud as a drum, started to beat faster, and faster, every moment.

Until finally he came out of the darkness, and grasped my neck, the rubbing caused abrasions on my skin. He pulled the bed over me, so I would not move. I cried out, but then, the brief sound, was stifled by the man, pushing his thumbs, deeply into my throat.

And then, that loud drum, stopped beating…Forever

Poem is based on Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe

Confession Tuesday

A wise man once told me: "it aint love, it's obsession." Maybe he's right, but the way i felt about her mad me think otherwise...

It started off when i first came to panama, in 6th grade. There was this girl i liked, slhe was hot, funny, and again, hot. But she isnt what this confession is about, its about the other girl, that liked me. I knew because countless people from the grade started coming up to me and telling me. She was pretty aswell, but i didn't act on it because i liked this other girl, further on in my confession, you'll see why this detail was important...

So the first time we spoke was awkward, we were at a tribes activity and she had just burnt herself with a glue gun. She came up to me and said:
"Crap i burnt myself with the glue gun."

I responded by saying:
"Ouch..." After a long silence while picking up markers i had knocked down prior to this encounter, she left.

Not much happened after that, until 7th grade, where she started going out with my best friend. I was fine with it, she started talking to me more often, asking me about my best friend, AKA her boyfriend, who we'll just call the jerk (the word i had originally chosen was changed due to teacher that might read this.) And as the days went by, we started becoming friends, better and better friends, until one point i noticed i was in trouble. I had fallen for my best friend's girlfriend.

There were days where i couldn't stand seeing her with him, and i started telling my friends about it, but they just laughed and bothered me about it because they didn't understand. They didn't understand that i would wonder if she would ever leave the jerk, (who may i point out, had made her cry several times, which really pissed me off) and come to me, the one that had been there for her, and would never hurt her. And then when i realized that i could've had her at the beginning of 6th grade, it killed me to know that i didn't act on it.

So the days i spent trying to get her to realize that she should break up with the jerk and come to me, turned into weeks, and those weeks, into months, yeah you heard me, months. Until finally, one day, a week before the valentine's dance, she decides to break up with him. To that point i was the happiest kid alive. I went to ask her out after-school, but she was with her friends, and i found it awkward to ask her out in front of her friends, so i was left with no choice, but to send her a text, telling her EVERYTHING. So that night, when i saw her on msn, she had agreed to go out with me. But within 18 hours, she had already broken up with me, she said it was because she had just gotten out of the relationship with the jerk, so i was ok with it. She wasn't gonna go out with anybody for a while.

So, come the valentine's dance, i was devastated to hear that she had gotten back with the jerk and they went together to the valentine's dance. Lucky me, right? So i had given up, i wasn't going to make anymore effort for nothing. But although i stopped trying to make her mine, the feelings remained.

When i saw her in the hallway, with the jerk, i looked at them for one second, and they kissed. I clenched my fist, asd it turned white, not just egg-shell white, like, paper-ghost-shirts-from-the-fabric-whitener-commercils white. I was about to punch that smug look on his face straight into the locker, but i kept myself together, and walked on. I was no longer in love with her, i started seeing all the things she put me through (even though now i realize she actually didn't do anything) and i started hating her, i didnt want anything to do with her, if she talked to me on msn, i woul ignore her, if she called me, i would hang up, if she sent me a text, i would delete it immediately.

So that's where the story ended, i stopped hating her after i got over her, and we got back to being friends like before, but this time, no heart-breaks involved.

So that's my confession, i've fallen in love. Oh and i learned a lesson, if u ever have feelings for somebody's girlfriend... make a break for the exit before she makes a break for your heart. In other words, RUN.

What I Hope Will Happen This Year

Last year, the strings of my guitar,
were tangled, screeching, a melodic mess
This year, I hope to be a puppeteer
Where the strings are only a connection, from me,
and the musical puppet

Last Year, I sat in the dark,
Fumbling with the buttons of the PS3 controller,
This year, I hope to go outside
Where the birds chirp and i play a sport
Embrace life, outside the virtual one

Last Year, I sat next to my notebook,
The pages were empty, but they read dissapointed teachers and angry parents,
This year, I hope to see those pages filled with a story, or poem,
Telling my feelings,
Or telling my past

Last Year, I sat, motionless at the school's desk
staring at the clock, the digital numbers were my focus,
This year, my focus will be on my pen,
On the paper, and on the work that they have been doing