Thursday, May 12, 2016

October Writing

Once upon a time, there lived a family with a mother, a father, and their three daughters. Now, this family was unique from all the others because since the beginning of time, their ancestors were all extremely gifted at something. It was almost like a special power.
    The father was an extremely gifted scientist. He could recite every single chemical formula that ever existed, and he had been working on a time machine to add to his numerous inventions.
    The mother was a mathematician, able to multiply any large number immediately and

Okay, I have to level with you. I was going to write this whole original story about how math and science weren’t the only two things in the world that mattered, and how art and writing were also really amazing and each person is different and we can’t change our passions. But I got so stressed and those short two paragraphs alone literally took me ten minutes to write. So I’m just going to write what it was going to be about.
    There were three sisters, right? The two older ones were amazing at math and science (respectively) as well, and the two parents were so proud. But the youngest hated math and science and instead she liked the sound of words stringed together. She wrote poem after poem, and no one approved.
    Her parents scolded her, her sisters teased her, and she felt so alone. But then she dropped a poem she had been working on one day, and then the person who found it was so impressed that the girl got invited to show some of her poems in front of her whole town.
    So her parents saw how amazing she was at writing and everyone started praising her and she became the next Emily Dickinson.
    Maybe I’ll try a couple of poems instead.
Through a cloud of people
two pairs of eyes
two half hearts
and one spark

he smiles and
she blushes
her cheeks matching her
delicate lipstick
and he begins hoping
she begins praying

and it all starts.
The glance
becomes a stare
and the game
shifts forward
their path shortens
then lengthens
until they meet.

And he likes her eyes
hoping for a meal tonight
and she likes his smile
perfection from a view
he jokes
she laughs
she brushes against his wallet
the game continues
she's winning
he's gaining
yet only

We took the black cat out
Back when we were young
And we still had a trace
Of innocence in our eyes
We got away
With drenching her
In the lake
And leaving her
To dry off
Then our innocence
Got replaced
By insolence
And soon
We became the cat

I know the titles seem kind of wacky. I like it when the titles don’t fully go with the poems, because they can add a new, interesting portion to the story. But I get it if they sound (or look?) stupid