On the spot

Roman and Julie

2010-03-09T12:27:00.000-08:00

Say there was a story of Romeo and Juliet... but is was in modern day!

In the county of Sussex, two star-cross lovers meet by their friends,
a time when they should've parted to erase their soon-to-be end.
A night of dancing in the hottest club brings passion between the two,
to make the bond of friendship pass away,
and the days they spend after school runs by,
only for them to rekindle when the sun breaks the sky.
Julie's poor father rejects Roman,
secretly a selfish need of protection.
Roman's coach demands he keeps her distance
just so the basketball star can keep up his winning attendance.
One crazy night at the club in February,
A member of Julie's family falls apart after a hit to Roman's friend,
only for young Roman to slash back in anger,
and spill the life of his soulmates's cousin.
With the police after Roman and Julie under grief
up her high window and together they embrace
a final goodbye in love and grace.
after ten years of lonesome hiding,
Out comes Roman from the shadows
and the young love is rising
till finally,
their next step is marriage,
only for Juile and Roman to fall under open firing
and from the world they depart,
yet as they float to the heavens
they combine forever their hearts.

Dance The Night Away

2010-02-24T11:44:00.000-08:00

walking through the crowd
the lights flash by
every ones moving
the DJ's shuffling
What else can you do?
the sound affects your limbs
Your heart races beyond a count
Flipping, flying, spin around
the club parties on
for your a glowing entertainment
So jump up
turn around
keep going
you aren't alone
a crew of dancers creep behind
they swing their arms, twist their steps
you follow along
and now together you all dance
till the sight of dawn
the dance floor is vibrating
with the stomps of creative steps
The club parties on
so dance the night away!

Eye Heart You

2010-02-09T05:04:00.000-08:00

A first love note by a twelve-year-old boy to a thirteen-year-old girl.

Dear Amy,
Happy Valentine's Day.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
Your eyes are the color of the muck on my shoe.
Your hair reminds me of my old cat,
and I love your stupid purple hat.
When you forget your homework you can use mine,
it maybe stained with jelly but you'll get it in on time.
you smell.
Love,
Billy

P.S.

Eye Heart U

The Perfect Guy

2010-02-09T04:42:00.000-08:00

He was the perfect guy.
He helped me pick out a cute top, offered to see a chick flick with me. Most guy don't.
At the mall, I saw a thin man strut by.
"Look at him," I joked.
"Oh, he's hot," He said. he wasn't joking.

Journey

2010-01-14T05:08:00.000-08:00

Just beyond the mountains of ice tips,
a valley of freedom grows away from human beings

On a river bank
in a sandy den
a she-wolf rests
with her litter of four against her fur

Up in the pine trees, the owl sleeps
till the moon sneaks out
to hunt into the darkened day

Rustling leaves greet the flying squirrel
the scurrying critters searching for nuts

Newborn birds flick their soft wings
to set off on a quest to survive
that lies ahead

Ever lasting wild flowers that bud
for the coming spring
and slumbers under the earth
from the biting cold

Yellow befriends orange and pink
to create a masterpiece of the sky
free for all that wish to see

So it maybe, that every life, has a journey to travel

Rusty Red

2010-01-13T04:51:00.000-08:00

I was eleven when I could drive

I had been raised on this milking farm alongside my strong mother
my hard working father
my elder brothers.

It was summer's time when I sat
for the first time
on the rusted red truck's driver seat.

I was a farming boy
who could drive a car
years before the children in school.

I was frightened
I was scared
but my father instructed me
quiet so well.

"Check the mirrors, Henry." he'd say
"Release the clutch, and step lightly on the gas petal."

I'd reach my short chicken legs to the gas
and with my boot's toe
pressed forward.

The truck moved forward a good six feet
and I, a farmer's son, squealed in delight.

I rode that truck across the vast corn feilds
I drove it when I had earned my license
and I kept it in my backyard
so that my son and daughters
would enjoy the company
of Rusty Red

Spinning

2010-01-10T09:43:00.000-08:00

Around a circle of wheels
I peddle harder to reach the top of the mighty hill

on the left, a meadow of high grass that sways by the breeze
the right, the pasture of painted saddle horses that gallop by the tickle of the foals' lips

Pushing harder, gravity takes pity
and lets me reach the top point.

A second of rest
before I bike on
down the hill
to the upcoming park

along the wooded forest
children play on the slides
like monkeys in a open zoo

The baseball diamond is loud today
the guys are playing their game,
the one that they've been playing since third grade

outfield turns to see me roll by
his brown hair messed and tangled
a smile of interest spreads his smeared face

Only a yard away, he waves in greeting
and my heart flutters
before I wink back as I travel on down the dirt path

The swamp engulfs either side
as I peddle onward
happiness growing
as the turtles jumped into the water below
and the crane floats away from his spot on a croaked lower branch

escaping the watery jungle
the rocky shore that borders Old Peoples' small house glows on a nearby patch of soft fresh cut grass
Mr. Old Man is planting in his vegetable garden
Mrs. old Women is reading a worn novel on the everlasting porch
and their shaggy elderly dog rests in the apple tree's shade

Onward I go
biking across the country
my mind spinning
and spinning
and spinning...

Blizzard Paws Poem

2009-12-17T12:39:00.000-08:00

Snow falls across pine lands,
mountains taht stand as still as air

Flakes of white land in rythmic patterns on the frosted ground,
covering the needles of the skyscraper trees

Breaking the crystal green sight,
a flash of flame flashes through the midday wilderness

Poking his pointed ebony nose into the gray sky,
he sniffed the rushing wind for a trace of shelter

As he trotted across the brush,
winter's white spots his rusted red pelt

Finding a hole under thick snow,
the fox digs,
empting his sleeping place

Once the frozen water has gone,
he squirms into the small underground space,
tucking his paws into his fluffed white chest,
to settle a day's rest

Ambition

2009-12-10T04:46:00.000-08:00

Ambition is the friend that everyone loves and knows

Ambition's family hugs her when she scores the winning point
She is the spunky cheerleader that smiles through even the hardest practices

Ambition climbs higher to receive better grades
runs faster to make the team

Ambition is a little girl making big dreams

A Loyal Dog

2009-12-10T04:38:00.000-08:00

Poem based on the life of my old dog, Snowy.

Night falls
her eyes wander the trees

One stranger
will not pass without her bark
of warning

Cream white fur
of thick warmth
a polar bear from a distance

Intelligence rest on
her brown eyes

Abused pup
to great protector

Not apart like strangers
not together as friends

But loyalty watches over me
making me feel save as I sleep

Eyes of a Different Color

2009-12-09T14:43:00.000-08:00

Blue...
eyes of the open seas beyond the horizon
sky of no clouds, but light shades

Green...
forest away from the human society
grass of wet dew before sun's wake

Brown...
the earth we walk on
fur of the silent deer

Gray...
the silver mist
shine of the moonlight

Black...
hidden shadows from the light
glossy wings of a roaming raven

Golden...
the couragous lion's mane
cover of the greatest treasures

Eyes of different colors see other veiws of the world

Dream

2009-11-12T04:55:00.000-08:00

I walked slowly along the sidewalk. the city lights dim from their height from above
The rain drizzled on, soaking my back through my hooded sweatshirt
A screech broke the damp air, a black Mercedes as rolled to a stop beside me
I turn
three strangers jump from the car and aim silver shinning guns
"Get In!"
I freeze
no one else around
feet to heavy to run
throat to dry to scream for help
Suddenly, I am no longer alone.large muscular arms wrap around my body, warmth enters my insides.
I glance back
he is a year or two older than me, dark blue eyes, brown longish hair
he wore only red shorts
"What are you doing?" I yelled in surprise, not only because he appeared out of nowhere, but because it was defiantly thirty degrees and he wore only shorts
no shoes
no shirt
no hat
just shorts
"What are you doing?" I asked again
"My job. Protecting you." he boomed
Just as one of the strangers fired his gun, the boy with red shorts spun me behind him, my feet never touched the ground.
Bang!
I wake
It was only a Friday night dream.

Meet Me Halfway Part 2

2009-11-11T05:14:00.000-08:00

This part I made up, since only the ending of the story was the dream. Enjoy!

part 3 will be out on December 21!

I would find my mom. Then we could be together like daughter and mother should be.

That Friday , I asked my dad if I would go to work with him at the police station. He didn't mind, since i went every weekend to see the action of the police.

After sitting at the front desk in the report room for over an hour, the phone rang. my dad, who was at a computer next to me, picked it up, nodded, said goodbye, then placed it down quickly. he rushed words as he pulled his coat on and grabbed his keys to the patrol car.

There was a group of teenagers partying in a house they broke into, and more cops were needed to arrest as many teens before they ran off.

My father ordered me to stay in the office till he returned, which was prefect for me. Once he left, I sat for another few minutes to make sure he was gone for good. After awhile, I sprang up from my chair and walked quickly to the door leading into the back hallway to make sure no one else was around.

Once I was certain that everyone else wasn't near, I jumped to the computer that holds licenses and locations of town members. Search through the names, my tired eyes stumbled across my family's name. Pressing on the background button, I read the date of which my mother moved away an where she lives now.

Finally I found the address. It was in a popular part of New York City, around Times Square only a hour and a half away by bus. Writing down the address on an index card, I shoved it into my pocket once I heard footsteps down the hall.

It was officer Dobbs, a close friend of my father's who was considered a uncle to me. As he crossed the room to gather reports, he asked me how I was doing in school. After a short conversation, Dobbs left saying, "Have a good weekend."

In reply I smiled, even though he was already out the door, saying,

"Oh, I sure will."

Red Wood Kings

2009-11-11T04:46:00.000-08:00

I was ten years old. They were decades. They stand higher then I could reach, wider then I could stretch.
My skin was soft and pale, yet their russet bark seemed so majestic. They have seen the world of the 8th century while I have only seen daily life.
They peek above each other to glimpse the sky. I stand on my tippy toes to see past the taller kids during a movie.
They are kings of the trees, more ancient then the oak, more proud then the the pines. I am a small arrival in the world of thousands people. When I go, only few will know.
But the Red Wood Kings will not go. Not yet. They will be here to watch my children play among the roots, watch my grandchildren vist every summer, and so on.
They are the Red Woods of California.

Meet Me Halfway part 1

2009-11-02T14:10:00.000-08:00

this is part 1 of this short story. It is based on a dream I had, so i hope you enjoy!

I am sitting in class, lazily waiting for the next project that comes every marking period. The teacher speaks, a blur of words pass through my ear, coming out the other end.
Suddenly, a sentence catches my attention.
"You will be writing a three page paper on what you want most."
I straighten up in my seat, my face boiling like a tea pot. He says something more, something about it being realistic, not like you want a certain video game. the other freshmen laugh about his joke. However, I remain silent. Thoughts came flashing by my eyes.
This is something new. this is what I've been waiting for. fifteen years I have wanted one thing so horribly. It wasn't a new cellphone or bike.
It was the unknowing empty feeling of a mother.
She left when I was two, maybe three, I don't recall. I hardly remember. I don't know her voice, can't recognize her if she walked right by me, even a foot away.
I've seen pictures, hidden in my father's room. I'd stare for hours at them when he isn't home, catching something new about her every time.
The latest picture that was thirteen years old) was my favorite. Her hair was cut to her shoulders, a deep brown that matched her always perfect skin. the same gray-blue eyes with silvery lining around the pupils. My eyes.
We were alike in few ways. When she was my age, she was taller by three or four inches. She had round cheekbones, her pupils were large and exciting while mine were tiny, unseen in shadows. Though our hair was around the same shade of brown, hers was darker with more shine. Yet, in one picture, when she laughed her expression matched mine.
I had a plan. I would know what it was like. There was no excuse like other kids who lost their mom to death. Mine was still out there.
I had a plan.

The Artist's House

2009-10-20T04:51:00.000-07:00

(This is a real place that exists in New York State. True Story!)

along a wined back road in the silence of autumn, There lies a memory of a happier time. A forest once large and beautiful, now dull with its trees ashy gray. The once crisp driveway stands for only a stripe of mud.

Some time, after walking down that desolate driveway, you reach a house. Or, what remains of it. It was hand made by an artist years ago, once Davine yet modern. With his own two hands he cut, shaped and piled the stones to build his home. After sixteen months, his house was complete.

However, that was then, and this is now.

half burned to the ground, the house remains. Bits of stone broken from the fire lay crippled in the dirt.

The house was gone, and so was its memory and creator.

Today, the remains stand as proud as before, till it is lost by humanity and crumbles from decades of untouched love.

Can You (extended version)

2009-10-15T17:29:00.000-07:00

Can you believe that violence grasps our world?
Can you understand the pain it brings, not to one, but many?

Can you hear the women crying from the touch of the large ice cold hands of strange men that hid in the ally ways? Hear the mother's sob for the lost of their sons from war?

Can you taste the blood that fills a victim's mouth from the brutal attack of a street gang? Taste the lies that are told to a parent from a teen to protect their stash of drugs?

Can you feel the shaking of an abused child's body, whipped, stabbed, punched, and kicked? Feel the hole in your chest when a angered high scholar shots a gun at you for calling him a*&%?

Can you smell the stench of death from the lifeless body of a thin manged pet that was abused since they were born? Smell the alcohol from a drunk that wishes to hang himself for the loss of his wonderful life?

Can you believe this hate, this pain exists?
Can you believe it happens everyday of every second?

Can you believe it only when you see it?

2009-09-22T05:13:00.001-07:00

Hey, this is Mtommyzero. I never blogged or emailed before, so I'm new to this. But it is a lot of fun! I love writing and reading, and my hobbies are Archery, horseback riding, hiking, basketball, drawning.... the list just keeps going! Creative writing was my number one choice to pick for high school, So i'm freaked about writing!

Scary Stories

2009-09-22T04:49:00.000-07:00

If you are into the halloween holiday and can't wait to watch or read those horror tales, I have a few suggestions.
First, the best movies to watch are: The Omen, Halloween series, and Friday the 13th. For books, I have read a novel back last fall that seemed pretty good. It matters what kind of reader you are, though. It's titled Witches of Worm. The plot is mainly about a girl that lives a lonley life till she adopts a ugly kitten she named Worm. Throughout the book, the girl begins to do awful things, and wonders if the cat is the reason for her behavior.