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KMS Writing Club
{Typewriter2}
The KMS Writing Club meets every Tuesday from 2:50-3:30 in the Library. Mrs. Camhi and Mrs. Waldron are the supervisors. Like the famous writers shown below, we bring images to life in words. Here are some examples of our poetry and prose...
{Poe}
A Poem of Love
by
M.A.
The way love flows is like
music to my ears.
Every time I see his face
it sends a flutter of despair
because I know he will never care.
No matter where I shall go
when I hear his voice I can say no more.
Even if I try
I will never say goodbye.
But in the end when all else fails
he is right there
laughing without care.
{Dickens}
Much Like the Tree That's Dying
by
A.A.
Much like the tree that's dying,
our own world will fade away.
Try to find solace in the darkness.
Or in the light of another day.
And with white swirling, the crying masses
who cannot see through the smoke
as their cities burn -- oh, so tragic! --
while they are losing all their hope.
So stand with me and watch the buildings fall
much like the trees that die in the cold:
bend
then break.
Turn
and say,
"This never happens, not at all."
But we are standing still and watching
with bloodshot eyes that sting from cold.
Suffer the children and the hungry,
let starve the parents and the old.
And so I watched that dead tree's final with one final regret
and I never shed a tear
for there is a ray of hope on the sunset;
there is hope for us here.
So stand with me and watch the people smile
much like the flowers that grow in the spring.
We
are
one
when the day is done.
Stay with me now and sit a while;
the snow will fall but we are warm.
Be thankful for the flame
for we hold the hope for the future...
or are we not all to blame?
Much like the tree that dies in winter
we wonder about such silly things.
We wait and wait
to see if
that tree rises
again
in the spring.
{Dickinson}
Don't
by
A.A.
Don't kiss me
if you don't even care
Don't say you'll help me
if you just sit back and stare
Don't pull me out of the water
if you'll just put me back to drown
Don't comfort me
if you'll just kick me when I'm down
Don't hold me in your arms
if it kills you inside
Don't say, "I'll be with you forever"
if you still ask yourself why
Don't grab my hand
if you're willing to let go
Most of all
don't tell me you love me
if you just keep making me feel low
You know inside you can't hid that you want to leave
Just go -- I know you don't want to stay
no matter how much I want to believe
{Twain}
Oh, Dear Little Puppet
by
A.A.
Oh, my broken puppet!
My broken puppet,
There are reasons I cannot hold your strings
For if someone tries to control you
It will hide your wings
You're the angel that lit up my day
But now your strings are detached
Making them fade away
Oh, dear, darling puppet
I will try to fix you
You are your own puppet master
If you let someone else control you
Your life will become a disaster
Oh, my little puppet
I will not make you dance
I shall cut your strings
Giving you your life back
Giving you one final chance
{Whitman}
The Story
by
H.E.
PART I
I tapped the desk again, waiting for IT. Still, though, nothing came. I dug deeper into my mind, hunting for the right idea. I could write a story about a man who grows pears, but that wasn't exciting; it wouldn't grab the reader. Nobody wants to read about a pear farmer.
How long had I been thinking now? Maybe a good ten minutes? The rest of the class was already writing away, their pencils tapping on paper, eager to write more and more. I stared down at my own paper. It was still blank, with only my name written down. Maybe I could write about a sheet of paper that dedicates its whole life to...finding its mother? No, that wasn't any good, either. People want a human character they can relate to.
How about a girl? That was a start at least. A girl who -- is growing up on a pear farm and she soon discovers that she can talk to plants. She can hear them talk and she can speak their language. But then a mean man comes, says that her family is not making enough income and they must sell the pear farm. He offers to buy the farm and turn it into a parking lot for the nearby slipper factory workers. But the girl knows that she can't allow her plant friends to be chopped down and their roots covered in tar. So she decides to sell as much homemade paper as she can to save the farm. Soon she finds out that not only can she talk to plants, but she can talk to paper, too! And she would never, ever want to sell her paper friends, would she?
So the girl creates a paper and plant army and on the day that the tar machines come, they corner the mean man and make him give up the pear farm. The mean man is very frightened by the girl who can talk to plants and paper so he decides that he best not mess with her. Finally, the mean man gives the farm back to the girl's family and they all live happily ever after (except for the mean man and the slipper factory workers who did not get their parking lot).
The story sounded good enough to me. I needed a good grade on this. Eagerly, like the rest of the class, I wrote down my story.
PART II
I looked down at my paper in disbelief. How could I have gotten a C+ on my pear story? I had worked so hard! Sure, maybe it could have had more detail, but it was a GREAT story. My teacher, Mr. Donion, is clearly going through a mid-life crisis if he thinks that this story was only worth a C+. I mean, how would the pear farm girl feel? She might think that people thought her powers were silly if they saw my grade. And the mean man would only be considered just somewhat evil and no one would see his bad inner devil. And what would happen to me? I would be considered the laughing stock of the school! This would bring my average down; I might not get into college! And when my parents are on their deathbeds, my brother will have to take care of them because I'll be at some job interview where I'll never get hired because I don't have a college degree! Nobody wants to hire a girl who never went to college because she wrote about some crazy pear farm girl in 7th grade!
Just then Mr. Donion walked up to my desk. He gave a look that clearly indicated he was not happy. "You do realize that this is not good for your grades, don't you? You're going to have to do some extra credit," he said right out loud in front of the whole class.
Well! That made me SO mad; I did the most insane thing ever. I stood up and raised my arms above my head like I was summoning a paper and fruit army and gave out a huge "HWHAH!" noise. I imagined that this is just what Pear Girl would have done when she confronted the Mean Man. Then I opened my mouth and half-shouted, "Look, bucko, I worked really hard on that piece and it is worth a lot more than that--" I pointed to the C+ circled on my paper. "I don't know if this is some kooky man-thing or what, but now I won't be able to go to college and my parents are going to die because nobody's going to want to hire me and I won't have any money to feed them with!"
"Miss--" Mr. Donion started to say.
But I cut him off. "No! No Miss, no buts! I want you to carry this on your conscience to the grave! And, furthermore, let it be said that each and every student here can find his inner pear!"
"Sit down," Mr. Donion said. "Now." He stalked over to the phone to call the principal or the cops or whoever, but I didn't care. I had stood up to him and made him give me a better grade! I had done Pear Girl proud. Turning to the other kids around me, I high-fived some of them as they all chanted my name.
That was really great...but then the principal showed up. I got two weeks in In-School Suspension. My parents grounded me. They didn't understand when I tried to explain about the whole college thing. They just said I didn't have good enough grades for a scholarship that they would pay my way. All that trouble and they didn't even appreciate my sacrifice!
{W.B. Yeats}
Scrabble Creek
by
Mrs. Camhi
Back up in a hollow along a narrow winding road --
a ribbon of asphalt as black as the coal dust covering
faces of the men there --
that trails the curve of a gurgling rockbed creek
you can find folks who will tip their straw hats
and wave to you as you drive by.
No matter that you may be a stranger to them,
they treat everyone by the same code of country courtesy
and expect nothing less than the same from you.
Hard working people you'll find there,
miners and hourly employees down at the A&P
and workers who toil to keep the furnaces
down at the metallurgical plant
spewing smoky plumes night and day.
Laborers who come home to their clapboard houses
all painted the same pristine white
with wooden porches that creak as you walk across them
and wooden swings that sway in time
with the crickets performing summer opuses along about dusk.
Walk around the houses to the backyards --
be sure to take your shoes off, though,
so you can feel the soft, cool grass beneath your feet --
and you'll find a small garden in each one,
tomato vines tied with twine just so
to slender wooden stakes along the fence,
leafy cabbages and cucumbers in one corner,
plump, juicy strawberries and raspberries in the front.
If those folks take a liking to you, you might be offered
a tall glass of iced tea and a bit of cherry cobbler
still warm from the oven
and they'll invite you to sit a spell on the porch swing
and take in the cool breeze blowing
soft as a lullaby down off the hills.
Just go there and see.
{SPlath}
My Best Friend
by
D.S.
My best friend
He's always there
Best buds till the end
The one who gave me love to share
The message I will send
Because of him I will always care
Friends forever
And I will never
Stop loving my dad
{OWilde}
The Story of Romeo
by
K.W.
In ye olden times there lived a very handsome young Tabby named Romeo. He longed for his one true cat love. One day he was out hunting for mice when he saw a devilish looking female strutting in his direction. As she approached him, he noticed that she was a black cat with one spot of white on the tip of her tail and a collar that read "Juliet".
She asked the lad's name and ever so quietly, he answered, "Romeo", for he was so overjoyed to see such a beautiful cat that he could hardly speak. "It is an honor to be in your presence, my lady," he said with a bow and a tip of his hat.
Juliet was delighted that she had found a true gentleman. She then proceeded to say, "Why, thank you, but the pleasure is all mine," and with a bat of long lashes covering her deep green eyes and a soft purr-rr-rr, she added, "R-R-Romeo."
Romeo was bewildered. He felt as though all of his stripes had just dropped off of him. "Well, I had better get going, (Gulp!) I have archery practice...yeah, that's right -- um, I have archery practice."
Now Romeo knew he was lying and so did Juliet, but she let him go, knowing that one day they would meet again.
The next morning when Juliet woke, she went out to the bird post to find some good birds to take back to her room. In the distance she saw a cat -- but not just any cat...it was Romeo! She quickly ran to her room, gave herself a good licking and lay down on her scratching post so when Romeo reached her, it would seem like she wasn't doing anything and wasn't trying to impress him.
Meanwhile, Romeo was at the foot of Juliet's castle arguing with himself in a mirror about what smooth line he should use to start out his conversation with her. He started, "Hey, did you just fall from heaven?" Okay, that sounds good so far. He thought a moment then continued, "Because you look pretty mangled up." No! That's not the right line! What were you thinking?! He started up the castle stairs until he ran face first into Juliet's door.
"Come in!" she hollered.
"I -- I, uh -- well, um," Romeo stuttered, stepping through the door. "Uh, what I mean to say is -- is (Gulp!), hi!" Phew! He was glad that was over.
"Hello," Juliet said ever so calmly and smoothly.
Romeo flushed. "Uh, what's new?" he managed to squawk out even though that was not his pickup line.
"Mmm, well...I was thinking of going to the market, maybe pick up some...kibble?" Juliet offered.
"Sounds good!" he replied, but then his nerves got the best of him and (Uh-oh!) he cut the cheese. Good thing it was only a little puff! No sooner did he get past that thought when at the positively worst time, he hacked up a hairball...SPLAT! It was disgusting -- the food!...the saliva!...the HAIR!!!
Juliet, however, took it as a complement. Until she saw a blonde hair! Juliet grew furious. She shouted, "WHAT IS THIS?! Have you been sneaking around with a SIAMESE!?"
"NO! I -- I wasn't! Uh, funny story, you see, I--"
Juliet didn't let him finish; she interrupted. "What am I supposed to think? That you just licked the wrong fur?"
Romeo nodded dumbly and tried to explain, "Honey, I--"
But Juliet grew even angrier. "HONEY!!! Don't call ME honey, you...you...you cat-for-brains! You...you big dummy! You...you scaredy cat! Let me tell you something, mister, you are no alpha male! And to think I was going to bring you one of my birds! Well, HARUMPH!" She turned her back on Romeo and, without meeting his gaze, she ordered him to leave.
After that day, they didn't speak again for several weeks. Then one day Romeo was taking his daily cat nap when he heard a screech. He knew who it was, but he didn't move because that screech came from the cat love who had broken his heart. Suddenly, she screeched again, louder this time. He finally awoke and peered out of his cat flap and noticed she was being chased by a Russian Blue that looked as though he was on catnip. Immediately, Romeo forgot all about their differences and dashed off to help her, but they were already around the corner. As they finally drew into sight, he noticed that there was a sea of black cats; at least half of them had white tips on the ends of their tails. Romeo knew the only thing that could bring them together was the force of their love and Juliet's beautiful green eyes.
As he searched and searched for her, he began to lose hope, afraid she was gone. Tears started to well up in his eyes and even through his blurred vision, he finally spotted her. She was being held hostage by the Russian Blue who drew his piercing sharp claw and put it up to Juliet's head. The Russian Blue's eyes were wide and crazed.
Romeo cried harder now. He rushed to Juliet's side and pleaded, "Don't! PLEASE! I need my Juliet! NO!!!" He wanted to teach that crazy cat a lesson, but sadly, the Russian Blue sprang away with ten pounds of catnip...and Juliet's life.
Romeo's tears dripped onto Juliet's bloody shoulder and amazingly, her eyes barely opened and she whispered, "I'm sorry (Cough! Cough!)...I--"
"Shh! Don't speak, my love," Romeo's paw met her lips. "I will take care of you and it will be all better."
As they left that dreadful place, Romeo realized why Juliet was still breathing -- cats have nine lives. So, like Romeo, Juliet had eight left. (Another reason why we cats are better than dogs!) From there on in, their love grew even stronger and they lived happily for the rest of their eight remaining lives. Well, maybe. Just maybe.
{WWordsworth}
Judge Me If You Want
by
A.A.
You judge me by my style
You seem to choose my fate
I know that you don't know me
Yet you put me in my place
You gossip with your friends
As I walk down the hall
You seem to just pretend
That I'm not there at all
I catch your evil glances
But they don't bother me
You act like I should care
It's like no one ever sees
How you treat the different
The ones who are not fake
You know you won't be laughing
If you lived their life today
At school you're mean
A liar and a fake
You really have it easy
But you hide all that you take
You cover it with a smile
We cover it with tears
You know you're very blind and vile
While we battle all our fears
Loving isn't easy but hating even harder
Lying isn't worth it and certainly not smarter
If hurting brings you such pleasure
Then just do it to yourself
If loving makes you sick
Then don't make fun of anyone else
Love me or hate me
It could be worse
Yet you're still the reason
For every single verse
{MAngelou}
It's A Funny Thing
by
A.A.
it's a funny thing
this life that we live
before one can receive
one must give
it's a funny thing
how people stall
one hundred will grow
one hundred million will fall
it's a funny thing
how people will lie
causing broken hearts
causing those to die
it's a funny thing
these times we share
all the love that we find
all voices with care
it's a funny thing
laughing with each other
while some other day
we laugh viciously at another
it's a funny thing
how we are so fragile
we separate each other
into a neat little pile
it's a funny thing
how life works
filled with kind hearts
and way too many jerks
it's a funny thing
all have a different view
people who love everyone
hard to say there are a few
it's a funny thing
how faces hardly shine
people are so edgy
hard to say where's the line
it's a funny thing
this life we live
before one can receive
one must give...
{FMMcCourt}
Imaginary Bird
by
D.S.
Fly free from this place
This chaotic place
To a quiet place to call home
Where the air is clean
And the waters run clear
Where the days are long
And the nights are short
Where the birds sing sweetly
And the animals roam freely
Fly me far from this place
This chaotic place
To a place I can call home
Fly fast as a forest fire
Spreading through the tall trees
Take me far fom this place
This chaotic place
{Anne Rice}
Poor
by
N.A.
We are poor
insignificant like a grain of sand
but harder than a steel pillar
and often unbalanced by life's many downers
ready to fall at any given moment
We are primitive and paranoid
trained from very young to be ruthless
and ready for battle
not to trust anybody or anything
We are savages and animals
but every child raised copies what he sees
We are havoc
because the spirit of chaos roams these streets
feeding off every arguement
every fight
and every death
although we are often sad and sorrowed
with an everglowing flame in our souls
We are ice
making lots of decisions
hurrying into traps
but hesitant
often frozen for years and years at a time
We are revenge
getting back at anyone who has caused paing
on you or your loved ones
I am change
stumbling between light and dark
the stone and the building refuse
and
I am bright.
{Stephen King}
You Say
by
A.A.
You say, "I'm breaking down -- what if I die?"
I just smile and say, "Don't you cry."
She sits there talking of her last;
He listens, thinking back on his horrible past.
They talk of their miseries,
The problems that nobody else seems to see.
They understand and love each other,
A bond they share only together.
They shed light on the darkness in their lives together,
Always hoping that their love will last forever.
{Danielle Steel}
Fame
by
B.O.
I'm a deep, dark soul in a crowded room
Nothing left for me but and endless doom
Have you ever been addicted to something?
Something you always wanted to leave
Something you need to see to believe
As the paparazzi call my name
I whisper..."You don't know the price of fame."
{baldwin}
Rage
by
N.A.
Where fear is held,
the light is drowned out
by a black and bloody moon.
The sky is ripped, being torn
with every sound of the
snarling god that controls
my mind and everything in it,
passing judgement on all others,
seeking to destroy me.
I know the beast only comes out
when it knows I'm in danger.
I can't control it;
it controls me.
It's a build-up of fear --
that is the beast --
and feeling uneasy,
locked inside of me.
{jack kerouac}
She Lies In The Coffin
by
A.A.
there she lies with a cold dead heart
feeling as if she's been ripped apart
back into the coffin she closes her eyes
there her body lies cold and dry
people stand before the coffin
as the clouds begin to sften
water drizzles down from above
on the backs of the people she did love
a man before the coffin that day
stands by her to say
"I loved her with all the love I could lend"
but when the people left the man stayed to see her again
on his knees with water dripping from his eyes
he opens the coffin to see where the pale girl lies
falling on his knees he prays for the girl
one last look at the girl's pretty brown curls
he says, "I'll see you in heaven one day, dear"
he walks away with eyes starting to tear
{toni morrison}
Pleasure
by
N.A.
The rain against my window,
one thousand stampeding rhinos in limbo,
the loud thunder shaking my ear drums,
and, in the end,
rainbows and treasure,
hazy skies bringing pleasure.
{j.d. salinger}
Between Hope and Despair
by
Mrs. Camhi
I see my dad falling like a leaf on a gray November day,
sinking deeper into dementia,
his marvelous mathematical mind
trapped in cobwebbed corners of long ago,
unaware of the present,
unable to function.
I see my mother-in-law struggling against the winter of her life,
tiny and frail,
conqueror of coronaries and colon cancer,
facing yet one more battle
to overcome congestive heart failure.
I see the eagerness in my son's eyes
as he counts the days until September
when he sets off --
a bird leaving the nest --
for a semester in Paris,
tirelessly reviewing his French
for classses at the Sorbonne.
I hear the excitement in my daughter's voice
as she chatters on and on
about the house she wants to buy
and a June honeymoon in Jamaica, mon.
I gaze at my reflection in the mirror
as darkness gives way to dawn,
counting every new wrinkle --
Oh, no, where did that one come from?
Isn't the PC term "character lines"?
Can Oprah be right about "the new 30"? --
and wonder what the day holds in store
as I perform a balancing act
like The Great Wallenda
walking a tightropein mid-air
neither here nor there,
but somewhere
between hope and despair.
{alice walker}
What Poetry Is To Me
by
D.S.
Poetry is the flower in spring
Poetry is the sun rescuing a rainy day
Poetry is the light in a darkened room
To me, poetry is the heart inside my body
To me, poetry is the love beating within my heart
To me, poetry is my oxygen
Poetry is the song in my heart
To me, poetry is life
{james patterson}
Darkness
by
E.M.
Darkness is the sadness
bleeding out of your soul.
Darkness is a man
trudging down to the gates of Hell.
You don't know how long
it's been there...
but you know it's not going away.
{Steve Berry}
You Can Push Me Down
by
A.A.
You can push me down
so I can't breathe
but, strangely,
it' won't bother me.
You can pull me in, then shove me away
but your little game
will fail no matter what you say.
So try to break me down.
Use me and lose me,
you can even refuse me.
Believe me, I see through all your lies,
fake smiles and phony cries.
You tell me you love me, but I know you're lying;
it should kill me, but, trust me, I'm not dying.
Your game is transparent; I see right through it
because when "I love you" comes out, you can't prove it.
{dan brown}
Walk Away
by
D.S.
People say that I'm love struck, but I just walk away
and act like I don't care 'bout the stupid things they say.
So I simply walk away;
"I'm not love struck," I loudly say,
then they shake their heads and walk away.
I try to speak but they tune out what I say.
I want a chance to talk to you; there's something I have to say --
but every chance I get, you just walk away.
{dean koontz}
Butterfly
by
E.M.
Butterfly, fly away, fly away today.
Spread your wings and think
about all the beautiful things that you could see.
Think about the peopl you'll meet
and all the critters that you'll seek.
You are the
beautiful, beautiful butterfly that lies
softly upon me.
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Copyright 2008 Kenmore - Town of Tonawanda UFSD
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