Thursday, June 3, 2010

Leaving

School is coming to a close,
Excitement is looming the air,
About the oncoming summer adventures,
But sad about leaving our lives,
As middle school students behind,
And what we have grown close to.

The comfort in the similarities,
The same halls,
The same classes,
The same teachers,
Things won't be the same,
We will be high school students.

Everything will be different
Different halls,
Different classes,
Different teachers.
The question of the unknown,
Bring nervousness to our faces.

Yet nervous, we are all excited,
About the new things,
We as high students,
Will be privileged to experience.
Dances,
New friends,
New looks,
New relationships,
All new, yet thrilling.

The last day of middle school,
Sure to be an emotional one.
Tears rolling down our faces,
Reality has hit us.
We are leaving the things we love,
Behind to face a new journey.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Best Friend

Author's Note: This is a poetic response to the novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. While overcoming the idea of living with his father--who has lied to him throughout his lifetime--Christopher receives a puppy, man's best friend, from his father as a bribe.

Best friend,
Someone so close,
Someone you tell everything,
Someone who will help you
Over obstacles.

Best friend,
The one you know,
Will always be there
Through whatever.

Best friend,
Always happy,
Always supportive,
Always excited,
For what you encounter,
Over your years of friendship.

Best friend,
Whether human,
Or a new dog,
Can fulfill the same,
Valuable role in your life.

Best friend,
Will always know that,
You will be there,
Through your incredible journey,
As best friends.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Unspoken Words

Author's Note: This is a poetic response to The Curious Incident of the Dog at Nighttime. To a young autistic boy, lying is something he isn't used to. He likes the truth, and expects it from everyone. Yet did he know that his own father would lie to him about his mother being dead.

Saying, expecting,
Nothing but the truth.
The normal routine
For a special boy,
Living in a world,
Of unspoken words,
And lies.

His own father,
Someone he believes,
Lied to him,
About something so dear,
His mother.

All his life,
A young boy grew up,
Thinking his mother had passed.
His father,
Someone he can trust,
Had lied to him,
"Your mother is dead."

Grown up as a teenager,
This young,
Special boy,
Discovers the truth,
The unspoken words,
His mother is alive.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Jack the Dripper

Author's Note: For my art class, we were required to do an artist research project on an artist of our choice. Mrs. Carrol also encouraged us to make it different, and be useful for two classes. She gave us the idea of our language arts blog, so I decided to post my research on my blog.

Paul Jackson Pollock
Allie Hohmann 2B
Jackson Pollock was born Paul Jackson Pollock into a working class family with five sons in Cody, Wyoming on January 28, 1912. Unfortunately, Jackson's life ended short when he was 44 years old, on August 11, 1956 due to an alcohol related single car crash. Pollock was named, "Jack the Dripper," because of his new and creative art pieces. His unique way of painting is better known as splatter painting--dipping your paint in the paint can and dripping or splattering it all onto the canvas by flicking your wrist. Pollock was well known for the dimension to his art work made by the multiple layers of paint on top of each other. To make his different paintings, Jackson simply used paint brushes or sticks, paint, and large canvases that were laid on the floor of his barn.


Jackson Pollock was just one of the many artists involved in the Abstract Impressionism movement. This movement was spontaneous and defined as taking what you feel on the inside, your emotions, and putting them down on the paper in an unrecognizable fashion. Personally, I love Jackson Pollock's art because I love the concept of abstract, the spatter paint style, and the idea of putting your emotions on the paper. Although I love his concept, I would use brighter and happier colors to express myself. When Jackson Pollock was a child, his parents died within a year of each other, and Jackson was soon adopted by his neighbors. As a high school student, Jackson was expelled, and later enrolled into Manual Arts School, which, he also got expelled from. On August 8, 1949 a four page spread in Life Magazine asked, "Is he the greatest living painter in the United States?" After he became famous from his drip style, Pollock abruptly abandoned his style. After viewers were searching for representational elements in his work, Pollock decided to number his paintings instead of naming them.

Favorite Quote: "It doesn't matter how the paint is put on, as long as something is said."

Monday, April 26, 2010

Hidden Religion

Authors Note - This is a response to the novel Power and the Glory and how people, even priests, hide their religious beliefs just to stay safe.

During this section in the novel Power and the Glory the main character, who turns out to be a whiskey priest, along with many other characters, display the fact that taboos exist, and that religion is something to hide. In our world today, we take religion as something to be proud of, something to follow, and something to show your passion through. On contrast, the world in this novel, claims to have no religion, and says that there is no God, or nothing like that to believe in.

When the whiskey priest meets a variety of civilians along his journey of escapism, they all seem to have a little bit of Christianity in them, they are just not willing to expose their religious beliefs. Professing your faith is a crime in Mexico, and is something to hide. The whiskey priest is on the run from officers, and seems as if he is doubting his convictions--something he should follow with passion. With every person he meets, he keeps telling the city people that he isn't worthy of hiding, and even though he gives advice, he denies his authority. "But I am a bad priest, you see." (p.130)

Today, hiding your faith is something that strikes our population as strange, and takes some people by surprise; religion is something to express yourself and your beliefs through. If not religion, they at least follow their convictions, to show that they have a meaningful life, and are living for the present. The whiskey priest, along with other citizens, have convictions, just decide not to pursue them--an act that is unknown in our lives today.

Monday, April 12, 2010

The Moment Never Imagined

Authors Note - The novel, The Bean Trees by Barbra Kingsolver is about a young girl, who changed her name to Taylor, who moved away from her mother and her home to venture on her own, to learn to live, and to learn everything she possibly can. On her journey, she's been gifted a baby from a native woman, for no reason. She doesn't know who the baby is, who the woman is, or where this baby is from. After getting the baby she moves in with another woman, Lou Ann, and her young child, Dwayne Ray. They soon make new friends who are illegal immigrants that seem to be from the same country as Turtle--Taylor's baby--named Estevan and Esperanza. The young couple were forced to move to America, and had their daughter taken away. After being together, it seems as though Turtle should be Esperanza's daughter, but in the novel, she isn't. While reading the story, I wanted Turtle to actually be Estevan and Esperanza's daughter, so I decided to compose an additional scene to the novel The Bean Trees.

The car is packed. Turtle, Estevan, and Esperanza, and I are on our way to figure out our situation. I've been pondering who's daughter Turtle really is and where she came from. I want to know the answer, but I don't want to find that her parents are looking for her, I want her to myself. I don't think I could even think about giving her up, she's helped me through my travels, we've taken each other as family, and she truly means the world to me.

"Alright, is everyone ready? Esteven and Esperanza, stay low and make sure to keep your disguises on. We don't want to get pulled over and questioned. You know how they patrol these areas for illegals." I reminded my passengers.

"Yes, we know. You know how good my accent is!" Estevan exclaimed.

Hours pass and we are back at the gas station where I was gifted Turtle. I can feel my nerves running up and down my spine. It could all end here, if we find her parents. I don't want to give her up, her family was abusive and I don't think she would last a day back in their grubby hands.

Inside I see the old lady, the one who changed my life. As the four of us enter the station, Estevan and Esperanza immediately call out to the old lady, "Mama!"

I turn my head to see what is going on and the three of them are hugging and crying and speaking Spanish. At this moment I don't know what to do other than to stand there holding onto Turtle, probably tighter than she liked. "Wait, you know her?" I questioned Estevan and Esperanza.

"Yes, she's my mother. I cannot believe that she is here. Wait, do you know her too?" Esperanza replied in her accent.

"Uhm, yes. She gave me turtle." I replied weakly, knowing that this trip is ending different than I had imagined.

After my reply, the young Spanish woman turned to her mother asking her who the child was--of course in Spanish. I didn't understand but Estevan translated for me. He said that the old lady said that Turtle--whom she called by another name--was Esperanza's daughter, the one they forced to give up before coming to America.

My knees shake, I drop to the ground, still holding Turtle in my arms, bawling. I never knew that this would happen, that my new friends would end up being the parents to my baby, the one who completes my life.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Illegal

Authors Note- In this novel, the main character meets two illegal immigrants, Eperanza and Estevan. They were forced to leave their home country to come here, and are now living the challenges of being an illegal immigrant. A response to the novel The Bean Trees by Barbra Kingsolver


Illegal,
Against the laws,
We all follow,
With such ease
Doing what is morally wrong,
Even though it seems right,
At the certain time.

Living a life of uncertainty,
Never knowing what will happen,
What your life will become,
Whether you'll get to pursue your sweet dreams,
Or even if you'll have dreams anymore.

Everyday,
Being frightened,
That soon, you too,
Be taken out of this place you love,
By the evil officers,
The ones who enforce the laws.

Living in a world,
Completely different than the one before,
The whole reason you came,
To live in a fair,
Equal, wealthier place
A place where you can live the life,
You have always dreamed of.

Dangerously venturing far away
Hiding, being secretive about everything,
About your identity,
Keeping close,
Yet at a distance,
To the ones you love,
The ones protecting you from the officers.

Wondering, wishing, hoping,
You will never have to go back,
Never get caught,
Never come close to your old home,
Where you are a legal citizen.

But here, in this lovely place,
You are unwanted,
A nuisance,
Lonely,
Illegal.

It seems like this isn't the life you dreamed,
But resembles the one you escaped from,
The reason you are hiding,
The reason you are illegal.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Baby

Authors Note - A response to the novel The Bean Trees by Barbra Kingsolver about how a young woman was gifted a child a by an old woman who she has never met before.

A Baby,
A whole new life,
Brought into this complicated world,
Having to live with the struggles,
They will always know.

This baby isn't yours.
But given to you,
By a stranger,
A person you've never met.

You realize something,
This baby isn't yours,
But your friends.

This baby you received,
As a gift,
Was taken away,
From your dear friends.

They think she's lost,
But she may be,
Right there.

Baby,
A gift,
A mystery.

Friday, February 19, 2010

I Do

Walking hand in hand with my father,
down the sandy isle,
Seeing the joyous faces on either side,
They are happy, but I am ecstatic.

All around me are my loved ones,
Sitting in little wooden white chairs,
On a beautiful beach filled with great green palms.
Little girls in front of me,
Tossing beautiful flowers,
making a colorful path.

My toes sinking into the flour-white sand,
My long, white, princess dress
and veil flowing in the wind,
My hair, swept down my face.

Reaching the end of the isle,
Tears flow down my face,
Being careful not to ruin my makeup.
At the end of this picturesque scene,
I see the glowing face of the love of my life.

The priest gives his speech,
We both say our vows,
And finally, the most important words,
I do.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Sense of Survival

"All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. This madness can be saving; it is part and parcel of the ability to adapt. Without it, no species would survive." (p.41) During the first section of the novel The Life of Pi, the idea of survival on your own is displayed through animals escaping the only life they know, life in the zoo. Many think that zoo animals are blood-thirsty and crave human flesh, when the animals are the opposite of that. The animals don't always escape so they have the chance to run free and attack, but to escape from something. In the novel, Pi tells a story of a black leopard escaped the zoo, and wasn't found for ten weeks; how can a huge animal walk around a city, stay hidden, and not attack any human, for ten weeks? The answer is that everything has common sense and a sense of survival. When a young adult leaves their home and family to experience the journey of college, they may have some doubts of how they will make it through, but they always return with stories of success. Most students try to make their new home seem like their old room to have a sense of safety and familiarity; they don't want to leave the life they have always known, lived, and loved. Just like the black leopard, college students find a way to live a normal and safe life. Not everyone wants to leave their life, but little do they know, everyone has the sense of survival to make it on their own.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Deathly Impaired Driving: Real World Problem



Scenario:
Over the years, the teen crash rates have sky-rocketed; this problem needs to be solved. Recently, I was severely impacted by the consequences of a young driver texting behind the wheel. On October 16, one month after my 20th birthday, I was hit by a teenage girl that was texting; she ran the red light, hit my car straight on, and sent us both spiraling into the barrier. Luckily, my injuries weren't fatal; I have two broken legs, and three broken ribs. The young driver, wasn't so lucky; she is now paralyzed from her neck down. Both the young girl and I have learned a tough lesson; she got her license three days prior to the crash. Since the incident, I have joined the group PATWD (people against texting while driving). We go around and talk to high school students, share our stories, and even do a re-enactment of a car crash. Our programs show the students what could happen to them if they chose to drive irresponsibly. Before talking to students, our group has to ask permission of the local parents; I obviously believe that this program is very effective, and I hope your community allows us to come and talk to your children and maybe even save a couple of lives.

Connection to the novel:
Throughout a section of Fahrenheit 451, Clarisse talks about the violence and driving issues with her classmates; little did she know that the issue would end her short, happy life. In Clarisse's life, teens are violent and reckless; in our life, teens are the same way--their ways of violence are different. On contrast, both sets of teens drive recklessly--in the novel, they drive way over a speed limit that we have now, and in our world, teenagers are texting and talking while driving; a decision that is fatal. In the novel, it was even peculiar to drive under 40 mph. We now have speeding limits--a limit which you are enforced to drive under; throughout Fahrenheit 451, they had speeding limits--a limit which you are enforced to drive over. This, along with many other facts, shows just how different our two worlds are.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Fahrenheit 451: Differences Between Two Worlds

During the second section of the novel, Fahrenheit 451, Mildred Montag has friends, other people obsessed with watching the parlor walls, over to watch their 'families' on the parlor wall, leaving their real families behind to do the worrying; they seem to be closer to the shows on T.V, than their husbands at home; this only proves how different our world is compared to theirs. It is almost like the people on the T.V are their real friends and family; they forget about everything that is going on in the world around them, and focus on the shows. How can someone be so into T.V, that they completely ignore their loved ones, and even forget where they first met? Unfortunately, times have changed; things that are so important to us now, seem to go down the drain; the people forget these things because they no longer think or discuss, they only make small talk, and ignore their loved ones.

Guy Montag feels that his wife pays more attention to the T.V, than him; he decides to do the unthinkable, and read a book to his wife and her friends. Reading a book is illegal to normal citizens, but even more against the rules to a fireman--a man that is supposed to burn any book insight; after seeing a woman, along with her books and house, go up in flames, Montag catches the 'fever,' and starts to read--an action that horrifies his wife. While reading his book aloud, one of Mildred's friend bursts into tears. "Mrs. Phelps was crying. The others in the middle of the desert watched her crying grow very loud as her face squeezed itself out of shape. They sat, not touching her, bewildered with her display. She sobbed uncontrollably. Montag himself was stunned and shaken." (p.100) The other ladies defend Mrs. Phelps by saying that they always knew that poetry was suicide, and that the words were silly and hurtful; the ladies have no idea what the poem is about, they only know that it is against the law to read books; because of this law, and their controlled thoughts, every person there seems to think that his action was unforgivable and revolting. In our time, poetry, and other reading, is beautiful, relaxing, and a form of expressing yourself; the fact that the people cannot comprehend the reading, and that reading is an action that is unforgivable proves how our world is different than theirs, and the fact that these women enjoy T.V more than their families is completely ironic, and horrible.

Monday, January 4, 2010

The Two Majesties


Sitting here on a rock,

Looking over my kingdom,

Looking over the valleys below,

Looking over the vibrant colors in

The sunset above

I am King.

Thinking about my life,

My struggles,

My successes,

My admirers,

I am King.


I've lived a life of power,

Everybody listening,

Everybody agreeing,

Nobody speaking their mind.

I realize I’ve lead my dear kingdom,

As a ruler not leader.

I’ve gave them orders,

Not suggestions.


Sitting here on a rock,

Looking over my kingdom,

Looking over the valleys below,

Looking at the vibrant colors in

The sunset above.

I regret time I spent,

Being King.