Pixelated Sins

I need to write something here

I have opened a blank page

with a story that is begging to come to life

and characters that quiver in these pixels

and patiently wait to be awakened.

I promised myself a story

just a few lines

to teach me something new

to give this little world something

that is larger than myself.

But where do I start?

I am as blank as this damn document

because my words have dried up

and are only bitter fragments 

of what they once were.

I cannot string together

what I used to think I could

because my heartbeats are too far apart

and before I have even written a single letter

I have forgotten what I needed to say.

So instead, maybe I will sew my lips together

and glue my fingers to one another

So that I cannot rip the wings off one more

innocent butterfly and tear it apart before it can soar

So that I cannot confuse myself further

with words that, no matter what, refuse to be beautiful.

Or maybe I will carve out some

agonizing poem of despair

from my hardened anger

and make it into something

meaningless.

Or maybe I will steal someone else’s sadness

and pretend it’s my own

And copy feelings I do not have

from people I do not love

to poke and prod a strange emotion

until it becomes sharper than a knife

Because when all I have ever known how to do

is steal, I end up becoming a black hole 

that sucks in everything, both pretty and ugly 

and everything in between until I cannot

touch a single word without infecting it

with my poisonous fingers.

And one day, I will come towards you with my 

vacuum of ideas and you will have to run for your life

And when I catch you, you will plead guilty

to the same crimes that I have committed,

But when I’m the only judge who can decide your fate

Then you know you are already dead,

Because I am in no place to distinguish

the inconvenient truth from my crystal lie

And maybe a few of the issues in this little world

will be solved, if I put down my pen

and stop writing these sins.

     I was so uninspired while deciding what to write about that I decided to write about being uninspired. This poem is describing my feelings about my own kind of writing, and how I feel like I copy off of other people’s poems and style. I used a lot of metaphor and personification because other people’s poetry sometimes feels like it is alive, while my poems always feel unmoving, just meaningless words on a page.

Spinning Gold in the Morning

Sunrise in Cadillac                                                                                                                      Echoing reflections

The star boils                                                                                                                                      of fiery worlds

our cracked earth                                                                                                                            scorch the skies

A pine tree stands                                                                                                            The exhausted silver moon

tallest on the hill-                                                                                                                        cries out with relief  
It has triumphed                                                                                                                  as it kisses the mountain

The orange heat spills                                                                                                                          A lonely island

into the bubbling water                                                                                                     whispers secrets of the sea

warming the valley The blank heat shimmers

                                                                               The melody of silenced voices

                                                                                        Rising with the sun

                                                                                         We are deafening

     I wrote this set of free haikus off of a picture of the sunrise hitting the mountains in Cadillac, Maine, which is rumored to be the place the sun hits first when it rises in the USA. I used hyperbole to exaggerate the magnificence of the sunrise, as well as personification and metaphor, because the area was buzzing with life when I went there last summer.

Write Me One More Melody

Society was not the culprit here

The voices in your head were those to blame

You feared that one day you would disappear

The world remembers faces, never names

Your hunger, blood, and tears kept you from sleep

I knew when scars appeared you couldn’t cope

Your poems were imperfect, broken, deep 

Your language not as lovely as you’d hoped

The pills you starved for didn’t poison you

The venom in your blood was loneliness

So please, whatever heartache you go through

Don’t fade into a song of hopelessness

'Cause, darling we wrote our own melodies

Your lyrics need not live in memory

     Writing this sonnet was difficult because it had many more rules to follow than the poetry I am used to. I wrote this sonnet about a specific event in my friend’s life, so I had to follow the story I was telling. The literary devices were primarily iambic pentameter and rhyme pattern, which were hard to stay with while telling a story. The event, if you could tell, was very upsetting, so it was tough to write the poem and I felt initially uncomfortable with sharing it. Writing this poem actually helped me with my worry about the friend I describe in this poem.

Hanging Fire

by Audre Lorde

I am fourteen

and my skin has betrayed me    I enjoyed this part of the poem because although it refers to

the boy I cannot live without    the author’s skin color, it can also be interpreted as being about

still sucks his thumb acne, which is very relatable to most fourteen year olds.

in secret

how come my knees are

always so ashy

what if I die

before morning

and momma's in the bedroom    All the talk about skin and parties and braces and clothing 

with the door closed. problems seem petty and unimportant next to the constant

mention of death

I have to learn how to dance   

in time for the next party   

my room is too small for me   

suppose I die before graduation   

they will sing sad melodies   

but finally

tell the truth about me This seems like a prediction of rumors about the author being

There is nothing I want to do  lesbian, which she had experienced, or rumors in general.  

and too much

that has to be done

and momma's in the bedroom   

with the door closed.

Nobody even stops to think   

about my side of it

I should have been on Math Team    I believe this is a reference to sexism when the author was 

my marks were better than his    growing up.

why do I have to be

the one

wearing braces

I have nothing to wear tomorrow   

will I live long enough

to grow up

and momma's in the bedroom    The repetition of  “and momma's in the bedroom with the door 

with the door closed. closed” conveys a longing for attention that the author isn’t getting.

This poem, “Hanging Fire” by Audre Lorde, is very relatable to teenagers. Many of the lines reveal that the author is trying to be independent, but also wanting attention from her mother, who doesn’t seem to care about her. This is a problem that I deal with, as well as almost every teen I know. The author also wrote about many things that plagued her growing up, especially as an African American lesbian female. She hid these frustrations in lines that are relatable to all adolescents. The author clearly remembers what it was like growing up and her worries, fears, and priorities.

The first stanza of the poem starts out with “I am fourteen and my skin has betrayed me, the boy I cannot live without still sucks his thumb in secret,” which is clearly a connection to growing older. She notices that people suddenly seem to care about her appearance, which she cannot control. She also thinks that the boy she has a crush on is still childish. She thinks that she is above that, and is already an adult, but her need for her mother conveys that she is dependent. She also wonders what wold happen if she died and if her mother would even notice. The repeated line, “and momma's in the bedroom with the door closed” makes the reader think about the fact that it isn’t that the author’s mother can’t pay attention to her, because she’s far away or gone, it’s that her mother just doesn’t want to and doesn’t care. This is even worse, in my perspective, than having an involuntarily absent mom.

The second stanza conveys a feeling that the author is rushing or running out of time. The stanza is frenzied and says that “I have to learn how to dance in time for the next party” and “too much that has to be done” It also reflects that if she died, everyone would try to be sad, but would also reveal what they really thought about her. This represents a fear that other people think things about her and say things behind her back. It represents a need for help and guidance, the need for a mentor. The third stanza is about the huge amount of pressure piled on her and nobody to help her get through it. All the problems she lies are unrelated and are external problems like everything else in the poem, but show an internal struggle as well. By the ending repetition of, “and momma's in the bedroom with the door closed” shows exhaustion of having to do everything on her own, even though she thinks she wants to grow up. The entire poem will be forever relevant to people who feel alone. The main idea of “Hanging Fire” is growing up because you’re forced to.

Macbeth Response

Macbeth is over. We are no longer warriors, or witches, or thanes, or princes. Gone are the swords, and the crowns, and my cape, and my cane. We will never again have to cover ourselves in fake blood, or (god forbid) pleat a kilt. I have not reason to rise up on a platform and roar at the beldams below me. Nobody will ever again make one little slip-up and basically ruin the rest of the play, leaving them and their fellow cast members to go out into the hallway and dissolve into tears because we thought we had sabotaged what was left of the of the performance, although in the end, it was probably fine.Vanished is my tangled halo of teased hair, powder-white skin, and crimson blood dripping from my lips. I will never again be a gracious king, murdered as he slept, or a enchantress queen, bellowing at her incompetent servants. I will never again be a part of this wonderful show, and it breaks my heart.

Macbeth is a play about greed and revenge, murder and treason. Macbeth is a character who undergoes one of the greatest developments in all of Shakespeare. He begins as a general, returned from war, who is surprised that he has been promoted and granted a large area of land by the king, Duncan. He is visited by three witches, who tell him that he shall be king of Scotland someday. They also tell him that his best friends children will be kings as well. This is a turning point, where Macbeth becomes power hungry, suspicious, and presented with this moral dilemma; must he become king by action, and murder the present ruler, or will he become king if he does nothing, and leaves it all to destiny? He eventually becomes king by killing Duncan secretly, and blaming it on someone else. This starts a spiral of death, where he kills his best friend, his friend Macduff’s entire castle, and anyone who dares challenge him. Much of his beginning decisions are driven by his wife, Lady Macbeth, who orders him to kill Duncan and constructs a way to do it. However, later on in the play, Macbeth is driven by his own greed, and Lady Macbeth grows farther away from the conflict. She ends up committing suicide, because of guilt. Macbeth is told by spirits conjured by the queen of the witches, that he will not die until Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane (his palace), and that no manborn of woman shall kill him. This lulls him into a false sense of security, because forests can’t move, right? everyone was born from a woman, right? A turn of events occurs when Macbeth’s enemy, Macduff, invades with his army discussed as trees and bushes so that nobody would notice them moving toward the palace slowly, and Macduff reveals that he was “from his mother’s womb untimely ripped” which is still technically birth, even if it is a c-section, but I didn’t write Shakespeare. He ends up killing Macbeth.

I find it fascinating that the year I did not get the character I wanted (Lady Macbeth, of course), was the one year I fell in love with the roles I played. While becoming an old man, when I played King Duncan, was tough and grueling, especially to keep up a hunchback the whole play, playing Hecate, the queen of the witches, really resonated with me, and I had so much fun transforming myself, not only physically, but mentally. I feel sorry for everyone I decided to growl at when I went outside for my lunch break in full hair, makeup, and costume. They looked terrified. And there was no better feeling in the world than to be high up on the platform, scowling down at the audience while bellowing lines I had worked so hard on. I learned what Macbeth really meant, I understood every part of it, I learned from my mistakes, but the biggest lesson I was taught? Don’t be disappointed in what you got. BE happy, because you can make it better. The praise I got from my cast, who worked just as hard as I did, and probably did an infinitely better job, who liked my performance, was worth more than any applause from the audience.

1st draft of Authors Note

     Between computers, iPhones, social media, and the indescribable amount of time teens spend on their phones, it isn't surprising that cyber bullying is prevalent in today's society. But people tend to focus on physical, verbal, and cyber bullying because it is easy to see. Of course, these things are harmful beyond belief. But rumors, gossip, and social bullying can be unstoppable. Most people don't even realize they could hurt someone when talking about them behind their backs. Kids can whisper behind other's backs to feel better about themselves, to get attention, to gain power, to get revenge, but from personal experience, people talk behind other's backs because they can. Perhaps they think that when the person they talk about can't hear, neither the bully nor the victim can get hurt.
     In "Understanding the Impact of Rumors and Gossip", it states, "gossip ... can alienate friends, ruin reputations and even lead to ostracizing behavior and other forms of relational aggression." This means that, eventually, it will destroy your self esteem, which can lead to "increased likelihood of depression, can seriously impair academic and job performance, and lead to increased vulnerability to drug and alcohol use." Gossip can destroy somebody, from the inside out.
     I can hope that this story will show people that they don't have to change. I can hope that this story will show kids that thinking you are nobody at all is better than being the same as somebody else.  If you hear them talking about you, don't ignore it. Don't change who you are to stop it. Don't stop being you to please them. Be amazing. Be incredible. And if you hear them talking, give them something to talk about. They are the audience to your one-man show, but you don't have to be the audience to theirs.

Works Cited

http://cmhc.utexas.edu/selfesteem.html

http://bullying.about.com/od/Effects/a/Understanding-The-Impact-Of-Rumors-And-Gossip.htm

Who has Power? Brown Girl Dreaming, Jacqueline Woodson

Jacqueline Woodson's Brown Girl Dreaming

Jacqueline's father seems to have much of the power in the text at the beginning, but it is later found out that he is often overridden by Jackie's mother. They begin to fight about Jackie's name at the beginning, with her father wanting her name to be Jack and her mother refusing to have a girl with a boy's name.

     "Name a girl Jack and people will look at her twice, my father said.
     For no good reason but to ask if her parents were crazy, my mother said."

 Jackie's father seems to want to control Jackie since the day she was born, but still seems to have her best interests at heart, wanting her to grow up successful by being strong and powerful and not wanting her to be beaten down by what other people believe she should be. Jackie's mother, on the other hand, believes that you can be successful by not standing out, by fitting in perfectly. This is the difference between them, and what I believe ended their marriage. Jackie's mother eventually comes to a "compromise" and names her Jacqueline. However, I feel that Jackie's mother is bringing the "compromise" over to her side, and maybe winning the argument a little bit more. This makes her have more power.

Jacqueline, Odella, and Hope's grandmother and grandfather are the ones that raised them. While Jackie's mother was around, she took care of them, but the grandparents are the ones who really instilled values, religions, and impressions in their grandchildren. Since the children left their father in Ohio when they went to the South, they even call their grandfather, "Daddy".

     "Y'all are Gunnar's children. Just keep remembering that."
     
     "Times are changing. And people are itching to go where they want."

Jackie's grandfather taught her to love and respect, and taught her that she was loved and respected. Jackie's grandmother taught her about religion, race, belief, and independence. Jackie's grandmother became a stand-in mother for the three children, and seized her opportunity. She taught them to be a Jehovah's witness, and to hold onto religion harder than anything else. Although she teaches them to follow the rules strictly, it made it all the more thrilling for Jackie to waver, defy, or break a rule. Without the strict living that her grandmother held her to, Jacqueline might never have learned to be free. Jacqueline's grandmother had a kind of leadership and even superiority that made her powerful, and her grandfather had the kind of influence that gave him power, and was more a role model than a leader.

In the last third of the book, Jacqueline's family becomes freer or maybe Jacqueline is just finding her way. In Brooklyn, Jackie stayed. In Brooklyn, she found what she wanted to be, a writer. In the South, she realized what her family and friends meant to her. In Brooklyn, she found out what she meant to her family and friends.

     "I guess I believe in right now. And the resurrection. And Brooklyn. And the four of you."

    I find it interesting that however much she missed the South, however much she still called Ohio home, Brooklyn is where she found herself. Brooklyn is where she found her own power. Brooklyn is where she stayed, and where she is to this day.

Malala's Mission

 Malala Yousefzai was hunted because she made a change. Not because she tried, but because she did, and that terrified anyone who wanted to be in control, that she could change any of their carefully laid out plans. In Pakistan, Malala's home country, laws ban some TV, some music, and education for girls. Malala fights to create equal opportunities for all genders, for education for herself and for all.
        Malala defied the rules by continuing to attend school even after the law forbid it. Her small way of defying made a big impact. On October 9, 2012, !5 year old Malala found out about her defiance, and shot her in the head. Malala survived the shot, miraculously. She attends school legally in England now, has received a Nobel Peace Prize, and is still fighting for the rights of every woman in Pakistan, young or old. The author wants me to know about the struggles over something that I take for granted, and that I should be grateful that I am even writing this now.

        The article, Malala's Mission, by Alessandra Potenza is an interview with the now-17-year-old Malala. Malala states that "I've seen so many situations in which girls are denied their basic human rights. I've realized that girl's education is important….that's why the terrorists are afraid of it. She uses words like terrorist, meaning she thinks that the attackers who shot her were using fear to get to everyone. She stood up for herself, not fearing, which took away their power. She doesn't believe that what has been done to her is unfair, just that the girls in Pakistan do not have a leader, and must stand up for themselves.

Malala is a symbol for everyone who is scared that they will not be able to do anything to stand up for herself or make a change. Change happens in small ways, and if you change what is happening to you, you can change what happens to others, too. You don't have to be in a position like Malala, you just have to stand for what you believe in. Don't take for granted what you have, and don't bend to the rules if something is unfair.

Bullying

You can take away our education
you can bring us fright
You can bring confusion
Not know wrong from right
Try to kill our hope
Make us not want to fight
You can take away our candle

But you can't take away our light
It'll just burn brighter
You can't take away our flame
We will never tame
You can't make us give up
Until we're all gone
We won't let our fire die,
We'll continue on

You can bring us fear
like we've never known
You can leave us lost
Feeling all alone
You can bring us cold
chilling us to the bone
You can take away our candle

But you can't take away our light
It'll just burn brighter
You can't take away our flame
We will never tame
You can't make us give up
Until we're all gone
We won't let our fire die,
We'll continue on

You make us feel like 

We're the bad guys

Hurt us so much 

we don't realize

When you knock us down
we always rise
You can take away our candle

But you can't take away our light
It'll just burn brighter
You can't take away our flame
We will never tame
You can't make us give up
Until we're all gone
We won't let our fire die,
We'll continue on

Try to continue on

Guilty of Innocence

     Oscar Pistorius was an athlete who ran in competitions against both disabled and able-bodied runners, while running on two prosthetic legs. He was a role model, a national icon for the disabled. People questioned if he won as many races as he did because of his prosthetic legs and even if they gave him an advantage. Because of his overwhelming success against all odds, he is called the "Blade Runner" because of specially designed blades on the bottom of his "feet". He was revered by many until the night he shot and killed his girlfriend, South African model Reeva Steenkamp. The Paralympic champion was found guilty of "culpable homicide", killing without intention to kill. But was it intentional? Pistorius claims that he thought an intruder had entered his house, so he fired his gun through the closed bathroom door, not realizing he had fired it into his girlfriend. For "culpable homicide" he could serve no time in jail, or spend up to 15 years in prison. The article states, "Even Pistorius's defense rested in part on white South Africans' deep fear of crime and home invasions." Pistorius may be playing off of an issue that is important to many in South Africa, just so he could get off with little jail time and little damage to his reputation. Can he be accountable for murder, or could he be innocent?
    His 2014 trial was judged by Mrs. Masipa, a black woman. Being only the second black female to be appointed to the judiciary, Judge Masipa is a rarity. A trial where a black female presides over a white male would have been previously thought unthinkable. The racial component made the trial even more publicized than it already was. Even though South Africa is around 30 percent white, the minority ruled in that case, denying blacks many rights even in their own land. Pistorius' trial breaks racial boundaries and makes us wonder what innocence is.