If Only

Submitted by Kyleigh on Thu, 07/26/2007 - 14:46

War or Peace?

The Trojan War begins when Paris, son of Priam, King of Troy, kidnaps Helen from her husband, Menelaus. Of course, Menelaus is angry because of the kidnapping of Helen, and he and the Greeks march on Troy. However, Menelaus should have thought more carefully before he made his decision, because Paris is at fault, not the Greeks, Helen is Menelaus’ wife in the first place, and both Troy and Greece lose many warriors because of the war. Although he has the right to be angry, Menelaus and Paris should settle the conflict as a personal matter.

dreaming in my sleep(less state)

Submitted by jennifer on Wed, 07/25/2007 - 12:04

i want roadtrips
and spilt cherry coke
i think of blurred roads
and missing home
i want to be out of sight,not out of mind
while i mentally read every road sign
sleepless and living the dream
sunglasses at night(can't see me)
living off music and "notgoodforme" foods
writing back with-will be home soon
running away on a map
smiling.
while knowing.
i'm coming back.

(if only i could be on tour and play for people who never knew my name.then again,i never knew theirs.)

Bloody War

Submitted by Kyleigh on Wed, 07/25/2007 - 04:34

And so came war. Bloody, bloody war. All around him he saw comrades, friends, and enemies fall down, screaming in the agony of death. Bullets whizzed by his head, and the rain in the gutters was stained red with blood as he ran sloshed through the streets. This is what they had meant. This is what they had warned him about. This is what his parents had told him to watch out for. This was war, bloody war. It was terrifying, unlike anything else he had ever experienced.

A Deadman's Plea

Submitted by Taylor on Tue, 07/24/2007 - 20:04

I

Why can't the sun spray the blue sky sea with paint, or put on its frock and mix up its paints and paint me a morning?
Take your brushes, Sun, and sweep them across my sky-canvas.
Wake up my darkness and make it sing to me. Give it a voice.
Give it words to paint across my eyes and give me eyes to watch you at your work. Give me ears to hear your song.

II

goodnight

Submitted by jennifer on Mon, 07/23/2007 - 23:40

sunset is the flick of a lightswitch
sunrise is when my eyes give in
to sleep
and dreams
where music blends with words
where fears lurk and stir(up memories)
but they run and hide
when i open my eyes
hearts go unbroken, while thoughts come to life
and i...

am awoken at the slightest sound
"what was i dreaming about?"
a door broke my grasp on the movie of my mind
but some nights i'll find the scene that was in the plotline
(my dream)

Waves

Submitted by Roxanna on Tue, 07/17/2007 - 12:41

I stand here, feeling the water washing over my feet, watching the waves come towards me. The water is dark, making the crests of the waves seem even whiter. In the twilight, I can barely tell where the ocean ends and the sky begins.

I feel the sand shifting, moving as the wave retreats, changing every second. I dig my feet in, trying to make a mark, but the next wave comes and washes every evidence that I was ever there away. It is like the tide of life, relentless, always changing, unsympathetic to feelings and desires.

Just For Wonder

Submitted by Jenny on Tue, 07/17/2007 - 04:05

Small children are wonderful. :) Levi is getting so grown up, but he still uses certain parts of language in that unique way small children do. The other day we were visiting Grandma's house and he came running in saying:

"Is it almost time to leave - just for wonder?"

Translated this means he was wondering if it was almost time to go, but he wasn't in any hurry or anything. :) For some reason I found this particularly poetic that day, and marked it down as something to share.

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