Period 1:
Vocabulary quiz
Cannery Row quiz
Work on community maps
Begin Iran research
Period 2:
Vocabulary quiz
Review Heart of Darkness, Ch. 1
Period 3:
Our Town: Reviewing script
Period 5:
Publish or Perish
Workshop
Thought for the day...
To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too.
—Walt Whitman, NOTES LEFT OVER
39 comments:
Loser
I wonder who braids rugs. That was my last thought, before I fell asleep on the floor. When I woke up it was dark in my room. The sun was long gone. Not a star in th sky was to shine through my open window. I could hear the crazy city streets down below. I glanced sleepily over at my alarm clock, three in the morning. Everyone in the city were still probably dancing the night and early morning away in clubs. I opened my mouth to yawn, and lifted my arms to stretch. I never should've done that, because that's when he saw me.
He charged, I could hear is snarling. When he reached me he jumped. We fought a terrific battle, that lasted just a few minutes. Then the beast gave up. Belle one. Bacon zero.
Bacon is my pot-bellied piglet. Oh, and by the way he is my only friend, and trust me when I say only.
I need a way out!
I'm stuck in this dreadful pit
of dark despair.
I can't see anything!
I can't see where I am going,
But I know I am running.
To a place where I can be me.
To a place where there's no despair.
I can feel the wind upon my face.
I can hear the wonderful song
of the beautiful morning dove.
Welcoming the morning's sun.
Liar, Liar
I use to tell lies from the Oval Office but, now that Obama has taken over, I do it from the comfort of my home. I don’t have to power to address the whole country at one time anymore, so I get my kicks by lying to my wife, people who stop and ask me for directions, my butler, ect. It is actually really fun. Just yesterday, a young couple stopped me in the street and asked how to get to a museum. I sent them in the opposite direction to a cheese factory. Lying as gotten a lot of people mad at me though. When I was president, I would lie to the country about every little thing. After awhile, people caught on and suddenly I wasn’t that popular with America anymore. That doesn’t matter anymore, though, because I am no longer president and don’t have that guilt of lying to America anymore, not that I ever had it in the first place.
Hey You
Hey you
Why does your blood run cold
When you see the truth
Behind the cruel, cruel world
And all its evil flowers in bloom
Hey you
Why are you happy
To see the lies
To think this world is in harmony
And all its waters are gentle
Hey you
Why are you too normal
See only lies instead of the truth
See the waters that feed the evil flowers
You are like all the rest
Hey you
Why do you act like everyone else I meet
Now all you get is
A shot to the head
Hey you
Maybe in the afterlife you shall see why you are dead
Flowers
This blue flower in my hand
Reminds me of you
And of the laconic beauty you possess
While its’ untouched by time
This red flower in my hand
Tells me the faults of many a man
A cornucopia of issues
War will come
As it will always
These two flowers in my hands
Show me its bloody beauty
Or it’s gentle violence
Time will fill the lonely grave
That shall soon be filled
Both flowers are dead in my hands
Soon shall be the age of man
Nice Philip, I like how you told the story at Bush's perspective (I think it is)
I'm so bored. Sitting at home, nothing to do at all.
Why is there never anything for me to do when I stay home sick?
Today should be fun and enjoyable, not lame and boring.
I don't have to be in school, but right now I am even wishing that I was in school so I would have something to do.
Drumming has lost all fun. I played so much over the weekend that my hands are almost covered with blisters.
If I didn't have dial-up I would deffinately be surfing the internet. But no, I have the slowest internet connection in this whole world. I would have to find another thing to do for the three hours that I would have to be waiting for the page to load.
With all seriousness, I am actually contemplating if I want to read a book. Imagine that, me, reading a book. No I cant do that. I'd rather put my head through a wall than read a book.
"Liar, Liar"
Have you ever had a bunch of little lies come back and hit you in the face? Well, I have. I always thought that lying could get me out of anything. Now, I know that it only gets me into a bigger problem. A problem where no one has any respect for me; a problem where no one trusts me anymore. I dug myself into a whole so deep that I don't know how to find my way out of it.
^ thats only the introduction.
Nicole, I thought your's was very intriguing. The pig was an unexpected twist.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHEL!
I love the stanza in your poem that says
I can feel the wind upon my face.
I can hear the wonderful song
of the beautiful morning dove.
Welcoming the morning's sun.
it creates amazing imagery for me. The beautiful morning dove welcoming the morning's sun is the most powerful part. When I first read it I thought it said, of the beautiful mourning dove, which also would have worked.
Good job!
Rachel, I like how your poem is like a story. It has a beginning and an end to it. I like that. I also like the content of it.
Rachel I like yours because I know that everyone tries to think of a way to get away from all the drama, and a place where theirs no despair or anything. I also like it because it makes me think.
this is a bit from, ah, one of the stories i'm writing. it's sort of in the middle, but i thought it would be a good place to publish because it'll get ya hooked! at least, i thought it was a good point. anyway, here ya go.
Victoria sat up, thinking for a minute. she very quietly got up and went to the door, listening for footsteps. she heard nothing, but locked the door anyway. she had insisted that the lock be installed after the twentieth time Tyler snuck into her room and stole something. she took off her oversized hoodie, revealing the spaghetti strap that would get her in trouble at school underneath. she thought for a moment, then grabbed an handful of the pillows she had lying around and set them up under the covers, poking them around until she was satisfied that they would look like a sleeping teenager to someone who was trying to peek through the cracks in the door frame. she opened her top floor window, leaning out and looking down, the distance looked daunting; a single slip and she would be in a body cast- if she survived the fall. she smiled. resting her knee on the window frame, she climbed out.
when she was perched in the window, like an oversized bird, she sprang out in a straight line, her arms spread out in front of her.
and that is where i shall leave you for today. hope you're in my writing workshop group if you wanna know what happens!! muwahahaha! mine is an evil laugh!
Katie, I really like yours. It is similar to my three page story.
Nicole, I like the random thought that your character had before she went to bed. It make me want to know more about who she is and if she always thinks of things like this. I also liked the pig. It was unexpected.
I love how you can guess Bush without you even saying it in your poem Philip.
I stretched the truth sometimes, I was 400 miles away from where I used to call home and never once thought that I would have to tell the truth. Being the new girl at school was really difficult even though I was pretty and all the boys wanted me. I lied to get friends, I lied so that I was a better person,I lied so I never had to worry about a bad reputation. When I lied things just always seemed to fall into place, everybody believed me, every word that came out of my mouth.
Katie, I loved it! It is a great start and I liked how true it is. Lies only get you into more trouble.
Philip, I like when you write about politicians and politics. I always feel like i learn so much. Your poem about Obama was very informational. Today your little story about what I am thinking is Bush just made me want to agree with you, because that is exactly what I thought about him. I like how you put it in his perspective, because I have wondered if he ever thought of all the lies he spread.
Nicole, i liked yours a lot. it made me giggle. i also liked Rachel's, i can relate.
Too Late by Lauren Simano
(Inspired by Thinking of You by Katy Perry)
Naomi sat on the edge of her bed, cradling her knees to her chest. Her tears dripped down her thighs, leaving wet trails behind them. The phone sat inches from her left foot, and she glanced down at it in despair. Everything felt wrong. Steven was coming over. He had liked Naomi for two years, while she had been with Jason. As soon as it was clear that Naomi and Jason would not be getting back together and Naomi couldn’t bring herself to pick up the shattered fragments of her heart, Steven swooped in like Batman to save her.
Naomi still wasn’t over Jason, and she knew she never would be. Even though she was the one who had wanted a break and said that it would be better for the two of them to be single for a while, it wasn’t working out for her as well as it was for him. In fact, she had even gone back to him and told him that she had made the biggest mistake of her life. He had hinted that he wanted to be single, and she said that she would be okay if he didn’t want to get back together yet. She had held herself together for five minutes, but as soon as she knew he was gone, she allowed herself to fall apart.
Every night for a week since Jason told her that he wanted to stay single, Naomi cried herself to sleep. She knew it was pathetic that she couldn’t get over something that was her fault, but she didn’t care anymore. She couldn’t even muster up enough pride not to cry in public sometimes, though she made sure Jason wasn’t within a 100-foot radius of where she fell apart.
Within moments, footsteps thudded rapidly up the stairs, and Steven pushed her door open. He didn’t smile, because he knew when he called her that she was upset. Instead, he walked right to her bed and sat by her side. He kissed her cheek and silently took her right hand, playing with her fingers, intertwining them with his.
Naomi didn’t turn her head to look at him; she buried her face in her knees and wrapped her left arm around her torso as her sobs rolled over her body like waves, causing her shoulders to heave up and down. Steven couldn’t do anything about it, and he knew that.
He reached over to her face and lifted her chin so that he could kiss her, at least to try to make her feel better. As Naomi threw herself into kissing him back, she felt sick to her stomach because in her mind, it wasn’t Steven. It would always be Jason.
Phillip, I really like your writing piece about lieing. It is a different perspective compared to the other pieces of Liar Liar pieces. I like the creativity.
To Whom It May Concern
“Liar, liar,” the one word that can hurt, or be made into a song. I wanted to test how far I could get away with lying. I read all of the that piled up on the kitchen table, and seeing if was mine, or not. “To whom it may concern,” was the first line, and I knew it was going to be interesting as I read more. It was an electric bill, so I took the letter on my table into my office, and to my shredder, and that’s where the fun began. I went back into the kitchen, and rustled through more letters, and I took three. I had positioned my office chair near my shredder , and I stood on my chair dropping letters into the shredder to see which ones made it, and which ones didn’t. The letters that made it were kept. I read the first envelope “Final Notice,” is what it read. I dropped the envelope, and all of sudden it
felt like time was on my side. I watched as the letter slowly make it into the shredder. I had to make an alibi.
Austin, I like yours because pretty much everyone can relate to it because everyone knows somebody that is like this.
Dylan I like yours because I'm sure it relates to a lot of students. Because whenever I stay home sick I get sooo bored, and then I just want to go to school so that I'll have something to do.
Nice job!
Phillip I like your take on the liar, liar prompt it's interesting.
Ms. Varsity Kates, I really liked your piece about liars. I think that whenever we lie it is a thought that doesn't run through most peoples head. I like the way you chose to write about lying.
ahh, lauren, yours is so awesome!! i wanna read moooooooooore!!!!!! i really liked the last line, even though the whole thing is so depressing.
Nicole, yours is so cute! I like how you start off with something random, like your character wondering who braids rugs before falling asleep on the floor. I adore your lines, “Belle one. Bacon zero. Bacon is my pot-bellied piglet.” This part of the story is unexpected, and entertaining. I want to know more about Belle, the girl whose only friend is Bacon, her pot-bellied piglet.
Justin, I like your poem flowers. I like your use of the flowers as metaphors for people and events that will occur to men. Your last two lines are the most powerful, because you say that the flowers are dead, and that soon mankind will meet the same fate.
Brenna I like your story, and I would to know more about the relationship of the characters, and it's interesting because it's in the middle of the story.
This was my 4 pages that we had to write last week. I'm just going to sum up the beginning of the story and then type out the rest of it.
Sabre is a 17 year old girl. She recently lost her parents in an accident. Her older step-brother wants her to live with him. The problem is; is that her brother is only 18 years old. That is considered an adult, but in my opinion; that doesn't make you 100% responsible. Sabre gets into a fight with him and runs away into the woods that she lives near. She is running alone, when she suddenly feels like she is being watched. This is where I will start typing the story. :)
"HEY!!!!" I shouted into the night. "Get out here! Or are you a coward who stalks people and doesn't show his face?" I questioned.
A laugh suddenly echoed through the forest. A laugh of someone absolutely crazed. A figure jumped down from the trees hanging overhead. It was a boy. He landed by my side; gracefully. He was still smiling and the moon made his slender; lightly tanned face glow with luminous light. He had a head of bright yellow; blonde hair that was so straight it seemed to fall like water sliding off an angled roof during a rain-shower. He was clothed in a strange outfit; a black; velvet cloak that draped off his skinny shoulders and cascaded down past the calves of his legs, a skin tight; dark gray tank top hugged his torso. He was wearing black pants with many different and exotic chains hanging from them. His eyes were rain forest green.
"Hehehe. My, my, my; what is a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the forest with no means of communication? There are dangerous things here you know." He asked with extreme glee. I was scared. I couldn't deny that. How did he know that I didn't carry my cell-phone with me? This was weird.
I'm out here for my own reasons that are none of your business. And how do you know that I don't carry my cell-phone with me? I want answers; so give them to me." I replied to the boy. I probably should have and said that I indeed had a phone so maybe he would stop talking and go away.
I saw him sitting across from where my friends and I were sitting. Lunch had been the usual routine, until now. It was hard to keep my eyes from straying back to him. He was beautiful. Who was he? Obviously he was new, I'd never see him before. There was something about him, his honey brown eyes almost yellow, his light brown hair even some what red if i looked hard enough, his body was muscle showing through his shirt, but a define feature was how pale, was how almost white his skin was. Like nothing I'd ever seen before, so lovely.
I'd made it my goal for that whole week to talk to him, say something. He smelled so delicious, his scent was over whelmed me completely. I would wait for him everyday to walk past my locker just to look at him. But it wasn't just the way his beauty captured me, it was everything about him; his laugh, the way he talked, his humor was nice, relaxing in a way, he was perfect.
The first day I'd seen him, I'd left lunch so amazed, astonished. I wanted to see him again. I walked into my fourth period class wondering, thinking about all the possibilities. I just didn't figure him being in my class was something that could actually be real. I saw him already sitting there, just sitting, looking at me as I stumbled into the room. His face was over powering, and I could tell , that he could tell I was fascinated in him already. My glances didn't seem to bother him much, his focus on the lecture our teacher was giving seemed to consume his attention entirely. I was disappointed in that. All I wanted was him to see me, just look at me for a second, please.
Nicole, your story was cute :) I want to know more about Belle and Bacon :)
Rachel, your poem was amazing. I like ALL the stanzas a lot. I can understand how this person is feeling.
justin, your first poem was very awakening. It seemed intense to think about that, and how people act. I liked it in a strange way. It seemed very honest, and i enjoyed that.
it's good!
rachel, your poem was so uplifting. just knowing that this person is in despair and is going some where he or she is wanted and liked, where that can person can be there self. I like that reality to it because everyone feels like that sometimes. I was great and i love how you wrote it too. good job!
Justin,
Are these pieces designed to be stand alone pieces or part of your novel?
You've created some really graphic images and the contrast between the flowers and death, and the use of flowers for funeral services helps add to the impact.
Nice, Brenna,
I'm hooked! I can't wait to see what happens next... Thank goodness I'm the teacher and get to read everyone's writing. :D
Austin,
Great start... You've set up some conflicts right from the beginning. That should give you a lot to work with and choose from.
Lauren,
Like Brenna, I'm hooked. I want to know more, what happened with Jason, what will happen with Steven, why Naomi is making this choice... Why is she crying so hard?
Making the reader want to know more is a good thing. Great character development already. You also provide some balance with scene details. It is important for us to know where the characters are so we can "see" the scene you want us to.
Justin,
Are these pieces designed to be stand alone pieces or part of your novel?
You've created some really graphic images and the contrast between the flowers and death, and the use of flowers for funeral services helps add to the impact.
Answer: They are stand along pieces since I've given The Fallen Angel a S7 (still writing but not publishing) till I get a up to chapter 6. I'm at about chapter 5.
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