Tales of Tenth Grade

As I compose the last blog post of my sophomore year (I hate to be cheesy, but it’s kinda surreal even just writing that), I’m at a loss of what to discuss. A majority of my blog posts this year (or, let’s be honest, ALL of my blog posts this year) have been rants, so I figured that maybe for this blog I should do something a little different. I’ve always loved writing poems, but I haven’t composed any in a while (aside from the recent English assignment, of course). So, for this blog post, I’ve decided to write a (very short) free verse poem inspired by the late hours I keep (which unintentionally began to derail into a poem about the stars whoops). Admittedly, it is not the longest of poems, nor is it the most eloquent, but nonetheless here it is (: celestial bodies i am one of the night  it is i who knows the moon,  i who embraces her coruscating light with the familiarity of an old friend i seek solace in the evanescent stars in their comforting glim...

Lord of the Flies strongly emphasizes the theme idea that all of mankind is inherently savage and that the fine line between good and evil is a permeable one. I decided to write a poem portraying a similar theme with the ideas of good vs. evil and how our roles in life and along that spectrum are never set in stone. So without further ado:  When an angel spreads its wings it makes a promise To be faithful, to be truthful, to be kind The halo upon its holy head  marks patience, virtue- heavenly wed no wrongdoing ever to be uttered The demon, horned, with pitchfork knows his role To be hateful, to be evil, to be cruel He sits atop his throne of glass  Sharp edges cut to painful pasts A sinful smile curled upon his lips The line’s been drawn we say its made of stone An impenetrable fortress to divide us Each soul with an important part Together: a fine work of art To maintain the war between the good and bad When the sun rises an angel sha...

Some of you may have deduced this already, given how late I’m posting this blog post, but this month I feel like I’ve hit a slump. I thought about making a photography blog post, but, frankly, I’m not very good. I thought about using the blog post topic of the month, but that turned out to be “Creative Writing,” which is rather broad, and I was ( surprise, surprise ) planning to do that anyway. I thought about writing a short story, but, over the course of the month, no new ideas have popped into my head, and I tend to have trouble writing unless I’m inspired or passionate about the subject/idea. So, that leaves us here… with poetry. But even then, my imagination has run dry. There’s been nothing new or interesting to dig out of the recesses of my mind. Because of all this, I thought, if I can’t come up with anything… why not let the internet come up with something for me? So, I looked up a list of poetry prompts and my April blog post was born. At this point, I do realiz...

I have always wanted to befriend a monkey. Now not some giant, ugly, vicious baboon! But a cute, little chimp.  Chimps have adoring ingredients! Pink face, protruding ears, big brown eyes,... brown deserts so vast you get lost until you recognize yourself in the reflection ...a silly, playful demeanor. Mine will be without a violent desire in its radiant soul.  Chimps are the most intelligent animals in the animal kingdom. Mother chimps spread their knowledge to their children...teachers. Although not an admirable quality in a pet, it is in a friend. Chimpanzees are an endangered kind. Such a shame all of these fair features are so sparse. Silly extroversion and intellect are so hard to find! It would be a blessing to reach their hearts. Talents? Sign language, juggling, dancing... Diet? Bananas! Pretty, prancing primates, so enchanting. My thoughts are a monkey extravaganza. Playing, chatting, adventuring, and laughing. The unspeakable need fo...

Everything A Villanelle by Matt Bouma-Hannam __________________________________________________________________ Everything will melt me inside and out. I long for the friendly and pleasant smell. In its extended absence, I will pout. Beautiful blue eyes: enough to knock out, producing big black bruises that will swell. Everything melts me inside and out. Charming chuckles chafe on my heart; no doubt the most divine sound able to quell hell. In its extended absence, I will pout. An angel losing their halo without her silliness, like a celestial bell. Everything will melt me inside and out. She resembles a heavenly girl scout: strong, passionate, and brilliant. I'm unwell... in its extended absence, I will pout. Everything. There is just too much to count. Each exceeds the last, no wonder I fell. Everything will melt me inside and out. In its extended absence, I will pout.

So this month's topic is 'something important to you,' and, as many of you may have guessed, the topic I chose to write about is writing . (I know, I know, I'm so unpredictable.) By the way, shout-out to Mia Jardine, whose birthday is today (January 10th), and who is also very important to me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Compose I am infected with an affliction Contaminating mind and heart and soul One curious, withering addiction That both consumed my life, yet made it whole I have discovered the love of my life The one passion that sets my soul alight Spawning incurable joy, acute strife, From many a sleepless yet fruitful night I am yet faded, but always renewed By this romance that clouds my consciousness Sweet lines in verse, is all it takes to woo And steal from me all guise of cognizance My love: jet black ink on paper pure white I would be nothing if I could not write. ...

A true story told by a spider... Every morning this girl gets out of bed Looking like a bomb just hit her head She picks out an outfit to wear And then attempts to fix her hair Then she scrambles out of the room Nearly squashing me like a crazy loon Several hours later she walks back in with a slouch Clearly exhausted from whatever she did when she left our house She goes back to her bed for an hour or two What she would do next, no one knew Finally she wakes up and runs out of the room And when she comes back in, she makes a big boom She falls to the ground, spilling the pie in her hand She scrambled so fast to get back to her bed that she had a crash-land She begins to cry because her carpet, now destroyed, was just cleaned Sometimes she is such a dramatic and moody little teen I decide to waddle over to comfort her Not knowing of the fate I would soon endure I get close to her face where there drips a tear And as she spots...

6:00 a.m. My phone tells me it's time to go to school. I reply with a groan and try to unwind, but I think about all of the homework that is assigned.  There's a different feeling this time; my room is cool. Bright streams of white light leak through my blinds, and my two windows allow these two streams to meet. I get up and walk through the center of my room to the nearest source of light. Slowly, I lift up a blind. My eyes cannot adjust to the brightness.  A few blinks later, I can see snow from the trees to the street. I squint to try to make out the green of the trees, a magnificent sight. Looking away, my eyes readjust. I long to see that old cypress. Three knocks on my squeaky wooden door. Mom walks in. "School was canceled," she said. Oh how long it's been. I sink back into my bed hoping to recover the sleepiness that just troubled my eyes. I fail, knowing that there is a sector of snow in my backyard to colonize. A warm breakfast is f...

Guess what guys??? It's Creative Writing month!! (Woot woot!) Guess what else it is? ... almost winter... (this I'm not as excited about.) And what better way to commemorate the oncoming of winter than with a poem about summer? (I'm a genius, I know.) Now, for my past two posts, I've already done some form of creative writing—a poem, a short story—but because it's Creative Writing month, I've now got a reason to go all out! So, I'm not doing any ordinary poem this time, no, no, no. "Summer" is a spoken word poem, which is basically just a poem that is made to be performed aloud. (Here's a brilliant ted talk on it if you're interested:  https://www.ted.com/talks/sarah_kay_if_i_should_have_a_daughter?language=en .) Thus, I present to you all... Summer - A Spoken Word Poem Summer A time for bad decisions But no regrets For the beach and the sand and oceans and tans For copious amounts of sunblock because sunburn ain’t cute A...

Remember when we were younger? When our innocence made us invincible, our youthful naivete an escape from danger  Each fear irrational, each fear foolish in the arms of a parent Remember when our imaginations were a vessel On which we traveled far and wide Courageously venturing through pirate-ridden lands Wielding sticks for swords and ridding the world of evil? Where castles of sand become kingdoms fit for royalty A stuffed bear with a friendly smile: lovable companion by day And fearless protector/dragon-slayer by night Everything enhanced, everything magical in the eyes of a child Remember the times when we took it for granted That safety found in childhood purity,  When dropping your ice cream was the bane of existence Two pages of homework nothing short of catastrophe We look back on those times and laugh Laugh at our tantrums and whines our “monsters under the bed”  No one told you there would be peace in the i...

In the struggling depths of Gotham City, there was no order. Arthur Fleck was reduced to less than mankind. He lost his job and eventually his mind, and this is what led him to turn to murder. Come the release of the film, there was a mutter; twelve people were murdered during "The Dark Knight Rises." Twenty twelve was the year the killers were masked with disguises. Who is going to let there be another? Terrorists threats online lead way to a panic. From New York to LA, the movies won't be the same. To beef up security, that is the aim, and to ensure there will be no acts that are satanic.  Fleck's impersonator voiced, "I think it's really good ... when movies ... challenge us ...." Many people forget the tragedy that happened. Twelve people lost in this cinematic trap, and why is mental health too difficult for us to discuss? We are blind. We feel no sympathy for those who have gone. One says, " To me, it was j...