Critiques and Revision
(12/11/2013 4:05:00 PM)
It took me months to perfect the art of not showing my real emotions but through all of the pain and suffering it was and forever will be
I sat in the car looking out the window, not sure if I was ready for my first day back to school. Other cars passed by as we stopped for a red light. The weather in Washington was reflecting my mood, dark. Don’t get me wrong I love the weather but today is not the day I need overcast.
My mother looked over at me with sad green eyes and I could already tell what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.
“Are you okay Sara?I know that you don't want to go back to this school but this is the best for you...”
I zoned out within the first couple of sentences. How does she know what is best for me?Ever since everything happened She has been treating me like a stranger. Reaching into my backpack I grabbed out my iPod and began to listen to my favorite band, Paramore. The light turned and my mother, still talking, pulled into the front of my school.
“Sara…Sara! Are you listening to me?I looked at her then down at my iPod. When I finally spoke it was a whisper, barely audible.
“I can’t do this” I said in a soft voice
“What?” She asked.
This time I was going to make sure that she heard me.
“You tell me what’s good for me when you don't even know. I can’t do this. I can’t be here. You never listen and you're never there! I grabbed my backpack pushed open the door and got out. I wiped my eyes because tears started to roll down. The frigid winter air blew the smell of damp earth around and it chilled me to the core. Today is May 21st and today is my first day back to school since everything happened.
I stood there in the cold for a while thinking about what I had just said to my mom, I knew I was going to regret it later.
I was late as usual. The office staff always has a slip ready for me. I grabbed the door handle and readied myself for my first day back but then I thought better of it and decided I was going to skip first period. I backed up a few steps then I turned around and ran. I ran down the steps and around the Multi-Purpose room through the gate that led to the forest and didn’t look back.
I didn’t know what I was doing. All I knew was I had to get out of there. Once I found the trail I slowed down and started walking. The trees where massive, with leaves as big as the palms of you hands. The leaves where strewn on the ground. Some were in clumps at the base of the trees and some looked like they were falling from the sky. I stood in awe. I was like an ant compared to these trees. I kept waking till I found what I was looking for… the meadow. I had run away when I was younger and stumbled upon this place and since then it had become my second home, with its trees around the edges of the field to its fog that rolls in in the morning. I sat down right at the edge of the meadow. Remembering I had my backpack on, I reached in and pulled out my notebook and started to write a letter to my mom made entirely out of song lyrics by Paramore. I might have changed a few words around but all the credit goes to Paramore.
Maybe if my heart stopped beating it won’t hurt this much,
And never will I have to answer again to anyone.
Please don’t get me wrong!
Because I’ll never let this go,
But I can’t find the words to tell you I don't want to be alone!
But now I feel like I don't know you!
One day you’ll get sick of saying everything's alright
And buy then I’m sure I’ll be pretending just like I am tonight.
I had it all But not where I wanted,
Because hope for me was a place uncharted.
You'd make your way in I’d resist you just like this
You can't tell me to feel!
The truth never set me free so I did it myself.
Open your eyes like I opened mine it’s only the real world.
Making your way to through off the pain well you can't ignore it
You look like I did. Helpless.
You'd resist me just like this you can't tell me to heal
The truth never set me free so I did it myself.
It hurts just remembering how it felt to shut down.
I put down my pencil and looked at my watch. I had two minute to get back to school so I could make it to second period. I picked up my things, shoved them in my backpack, and ran. The sound of the wind howling in my ears and leaves crunching under my feet was amazing. Running made me feel powerful. The trees where a blur of nothing but brown and green. I made it past the gate around the Multi and to the office
“Late again Sara?” Mrs. Blueford asked
“Yes sorry about that. I said with a shy smile this year won't be like last year I promise.”
(12/11/2013 1:00:00 AM)
Dear Kera Bashline:
Your poems are heartfelt and thus, very honest. If you read my poem on pain, you would realize that the experience you are undergoing has been designed to bless you and make you into a better person. Find the path, and share it with others who might be undergoing the same transformation. I will pray that somebody will be sent soon to be your Guiding Light.
(12/11/2013 12:56:00 AM)
| Read 1 reply
I would like to share this poem with Kera Bashline and all others who have undergone neglect.
Who Is Afraid Of Pain
Who is afraid of pain?
That feeling of
down to the last drop
but you resist giving in
letting mind take control...
As the countdown starts
one, two, three - close
your mind, resisting
death-urge you feel a surge
of strength renewing,
adrenaline, your second wind...
Who is afraid of failing?
Soon numbs the mind
and clouds reason
to go on with challenge
no, no, no - I cannot
Thus faltering, you died.
But when you say yes-
let us surely do it
one more minute longer
let's hold on tighter
make mind take control
team body takes order...
Don't be such a bore
pain is your teacher
even your ardent lover
Pain makes life richer
be faithful, last longer...
Physical or emotional,
pain gives you release
from imagined near-deaths
Reaching peak of no return,
finding you still prevail,
scream ' Eureka - I'm immortal! '
(12/10/2013 4:58:00 PM)
The bird's eye view is incredible;
People stories below
Looking no greater than ants.
A cool wind caresses him gently,
As if urging him on.
He moves his bare feet
One step closer to the edge
Of the cold concrete.
Pale sidewalks beckon to him,
Pleading for his presence,
Praying to feel his last
Vital breath as it escapes.
Inhaling, he leaps;
Becoming first, one with the birds,
Then one with the ants.
Clarity pierces his clouded mind
A second from the ground,
Cool wind no longer embraces him
As he realizes the truth;
This is not the end.
by: S. Marrazzo
(12/7/2013 11:04:00 PM)
life's own awareness,
made by its will to survive,
yet survival of the fittest,
not all what paved man kind
For if one is to think
a course of planned divine,
then accident be awareness
given to life in mind,
for whom could survive the chance,
galactic untamed wonder,
that came with out a glance,
killing most found on her,
The fittest can not adapt
to such a timeless blow,
for surviving that death bared hour,
earths fittest, died under such power,
the weakness then grew to strongest,
and then so climbed the trees,
then when climatic changes,
forced apes to ground-ward eves
they dropped their fur and tail,
and stood two legged with hands,
They then seemed undefended, pink and weak compared,
yet brains that grew tremendous,
imagined past the body, over came weakness, and created self-awareness,
then through sounds of meaning
passed in taught, to new
the knowledge age had taught,
through a divine gift of human thought.
SO to be here and aware of it, an accident or luck,
should count the lucky stars above, for we be life's mistook,
of not so luck to be,
aware of all around,
as then you contemplate compared,
when you are in the ground.
(12/7/2013 10:53:00 PM)
| Read 2 replies
The knowing -
When light ebbs away from a livings eyes,
and livings age, pays its wage,
so the body to soul no longer does engage.
A moment of life; a livings spend
for all life; to live, it must come to an end.
after the last breath of the air we depend,
of knowing livings end.
knowing indues of its own timely demise,
death comes to all and never in disguise,
a moment that no memory can contain,
as time is at the last link of its chain,
sub to conscience combine in a mind,
conscience aware of time is made blind,
an eternal moment that lasts for a flash,
contains a life sfilled memory stash.
the knowing will bring no fear from life,
as life has lived and has no strife,
the eternal moment, the tunnel of light,
caused when deaths scythe delivers with smite,
life's whole is contained within deaths winning
an end to a beginning,
a divine book so written,
unique to each living,
so live in love and start forgiving.Replies for this message:
(12/11/2013 1:09:00 AM)
This is a similar poem on what Edward Webb adroitly explored: All Alone In The Dark Sitting by the window out of reach I have been thinking of past sorrows and joys, and so many thing ... more
(12/11/2013 1:05:00 AM)
This is so gently said, almost a welcome to life's inevitable end. Thank you for this reminder not to waste another moment. You are a fine poet, the same keen eyes you give to your photographs are ref ... more
- Doris Cornago (12/11/2013 1:09:00 AM) Post reply
(12/7/2013 10:50:00 PM)
so small the world that is its home
no science can exacting define,
yet all around including me
are made up of them deep down,
properties do suggest that realities no just as found,
So ponder the question in minds of great,
of atoms common ground,
At this level an, alien world, magic can unfurl,
and particles behave in know to humans observe,
a atom is as known, mainly void of parts,
and then questions of how any solid is apart,
simple energy attraction, is this crafted rule,
+ and -, attraction the cladded rule, opposites that sculpted all,
but universal; time, in now, as present
gravity makes binding inset mass in crescent
any that are reality made,
bend the space on which it sits.
Yet man is alone in aware that nothing else is it
With all known man uniquely does own, what is made from such a power, ?
a bomb to end all other, in earths possible final hour.
We take in blind, through a measure, interpretation in mind,
the factual patterns that we as man can find,
Yet could we be the children to a universe sat forever,
whom sat alone is aware of all, forever and forever,
but wants to exist so set a plan to make a brain of great,
who was so beautiful in its design
so a eternal they could contemplate,
and through a fact based theory made by minds of great assembly
bring forward understanding of what all may be to date,
such as E=mc2 is life laws formulae,
yet the mind who crafted this,
stated reality an illusive display,
so to know an answer to a quest,
that seems man does invest,
almost seems as life is being given a conscious test
live for life aware in your slot,
as present now real and never can be forgot,
the rest is made up in the mind of you,
and morality is what makes me and you,
so its quality is the thing I pursue, making reality as I want true
(12/7/2013 10:47:00 PM)
as soon the mind to be as self,
it doesn't stop to rest,
but instead makes room for mass,
until sleep that is,
such small control in aware to be,
the rest is but for your souls selection
and she dictates as thoughts to thee,
the way to heaven or hells direction,
your tongue has no say on what she lets you see,
we battle thorough of times one way course
worry in youths eyes when we pass the fold no mind knows,
but is the truth to life told,
so forward to it we close
yet when are bodies are aged and worn,
by times cruel hand, we shall creep homeward bound,
content in knowing what any alive knows,
as sure as come nights dark cloak to chase away the day,
weary flocks come in to a shepherds arm
a time to indulge in deep repose,
for never is time in dreams a fiend,
and best to lands eternally housed,
time as stood deceased shall be,
for we can sleep to repair our selves,
in sleep not unlimitedly,
yet come times in night when bodies work is done,
the minds work is just begun,
she take's time and makes it hers
and makes feeling free, and operates in imagined eyes,
in places far away, yet none sits to be a truth,
in dreams until so we awake,
like natures beauty to wakened eyes, death is the only truth to be,
the beauteous of the Rose to eyes,
isn't seen when I with Daises lay,
but used to garnish thy repose when old acquaintances remember thee,
they rest but by thy side of grave,
in woeful regret or past thoughts sincerely,
until like the cresting waves obliged one day they lay with me
(12/7/2013 10:44:00 PM)
Truth is but the point sat great,
ultimate and above debate,
should be what guides living souls,
to their true enlightenment,
truth sat before any lie,
and will sit after the last lie dies,
as mans mind is what made deny,
truth in unconscious state alive,
through presence of self aware through eyes,
rarely see I- to -eye,
life now aware must find again,
by death and the journey felt within,
living by a mortal lesson,
souls are angels fallen from heaven,
we are God all apart,
and each is a divine fine art
Eternity is are Death in essence,
flying back in Deathly presence,
when once more our wings spread out quintessence,
and fly our souls back to the heavens
(12/7/2013 4:03:00 PM)
" Blazing Fingers" - Phoenix
Touched your face as in a dream
You make my waking hours seem
Like a lucid dream, so real
Are the emotions that haunt
Tumultuous feelings that sends
Me drifting, falling, circling
As in a whirlwind traipsing...
You cannot know pain and need
Until you own up to them
I see more sense in hurting
If feeling them will make me
See him again, and again
A placid insensitive rogue
Incessant with his taunts...
The lovely melody is ending
The radiance of his face
Linger longer, rolling over
Highlights of my life etching
He is the most cultured
Person I know who feels my pain...
He jumps about as one scalded
He grimaces in my discomfort
He scolds, he cries out loud
Brown eyes staring in anger
And yet, he makes me suffer less
His blazing fingers to my frozen spirit
Give me hope and eventual forgiveness...
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