ywcPapania News

Envy

jenh — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:19:40 GMT

Envy comes in many ways, haunting your precious days.
Envy sneaks in your house, staying quiet as a mouse.
No one knows if it's boy or girl, but rumor has it's a girl.
Some of its tricks will make you hurl.
Envy takes pride, when you wish you weren't alive
So ignore its evil ways, and Envy won't haunt your days.

Paint Me Like I Am

max — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:19:16 GMT

Why don't you paint me
like I am
Talking and laughing
with friends and relatives
With the bright blue sky gleaming in my eyes
Why don't you paint me
Like I am
Paint me dark eyed and black haired
And the shimmering stars in my mind
Paint me with excitement
A splash of vivid colors
Paint me with sorrow
A pool of dull hues
Paint me with intelligence
A collection of colorful shapes
Paint me with freedom
Ribbons of red, white, and blue.

Paint the memories in my mind
The tall, snowy mountains
The fields and creeks of nature.

Paint me with the happiness
Expressed in my thoughts
Paint me with the tears
The times of complete sorrow

You can hear it in my mind
How my thoughts wish they could show
Like me
Paint me calm
Paint me happy
Paint me alive.

(V)
(-.-)
(")(")

People

jenh — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:18:50 GMT

People are made of places. They carry with them a forest fire, destroying and rebilding life, rain bearing water, or eath supoting life.
Atmoshere of decay, rotting away at their soul, or the wild, making them untamable.
The smell of roses in the golden rain, or sulfer making you sick.
Where I come from, people are rain bringing life, roses, creating healing powers,and the wild, knowing themselvs, and spring and summer are the main seasons where I come from.

yet another frankie poem

Katie — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:18:02 GMT

they called him Frank

but i knew his name.

Frankie

was more than a ghost

more than a dark

lonely

boy, he had dreams

and when he smiled

the world held it's breath.

Frankie

was more

than the shadow of a child

more than his unbroken stride.

His bloodied suit

was more than

cool

it was Frankie

a skin he couldnt shed.

Home

Kyle — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:17:40 GMT

"Why did we have to move, Dad?" All my friends are having fun in California and I'm stuck here in Toronto with no friends at all. you said I should have fun in the summer. This place..." His father stops him. "This place is filled with excitement and adventure. This is a wonderful city to live in. When yu get back into school, you'll meet a lot of friends. In the meantime, let's go have some fun; watching the city baseball team play; hit down some bowling pins; it will be great, just like the good times back in San Francisco." "But it's different. The Toronto Blue Jays are not that good. Look at the A's and the Giants. The A's were division leaders 4 or 5 times in a row. The Giants went to the World Series a couple of years ago. And bowling, the have cosmic bowling in the Bay Area, and here? I bet bowling here is just plain bowling, with the lights turned on with no music. They might even have wooden bowling balls. Well, the point is that home is different now. We don't have an upstairs anymore, no more room for my pet dog, Fluffy, to run around, no more video games becase you threw them away. Back home, we used to have a pool, a trampoline, a garage!" "Ummmm, son?" "A backyard, a front yard, a basketball court!" "Ben?!" Ben, the boy that is mad, does not notice the mice that are coming out from the hole. Dad tells Ben to be quiet. " Shhh Ben, don't scare the mice away. If we catch them, we won't have any more problems. I guarantee it." "Oh great. This summer is getting worse. We have mice in the house. What next? Lizards? "Shh," Now Dad is getting mad. "Don't you say a word. Now give me that bucket over there." After Ben had given the bucket to Dad, he jumps onto the counter to watch the action. "It's going to get ugly." Ben whispers to himself. Ben closes his eyes. When you opens them, Dad has bloodmarks all over his face. He caught the mice, but it was a bloody fight. Dad had used forks and knifes to cut them up. "here's the bucket, that oughta teach them a lesson. Ben continues," As I was saying, we have no basement, no attic, no.." "Ummm, Ben?" you can't interrupt me now, Dad." "It is your turn to do the killing." Ben looks on the ground. Lizards, everywhere! "Awww, Dad. I'm going to die! they are so big! "Don't worry. Lizards don't bite, they scratch." "My misery is just beginning. "

Franky 3

Sara — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 05:17:18 GMT

Two TV's,

Tiny TV's,

Dully sitting next to each other.

Two old,

Scratched up TV's

With crooked entenas.

Two TV's

Rest in front of

A pare of

Light blue eyes.

Their entenas

Laying on two ears

Covered by

Black locks of hair

Stuck loosely on an

Unknown mind,

Inside an unknown head,

Screwed on

A mysterious body,

In a pinstripe suit.

Two TV's

Hide ones inner style

mr. dan

Katie — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 18:12:43 GMT

"HEY MR. DAN

ARE THOSE REALLY SHORT CAPRIS

OR REALLY LONG BERMUDA

SHORTS?"

Mattress On The Floor

Melanie — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 18:12:22 GMT

The poem I read at Rakestraw:

He stands on corners, throwing stones at passersby
He watches them live their lives with an upturned eye
He doesn't care about their feelings, their problems or happiness
Because hate is the only emotion he can express
He kicks the ground, he curses the pain
He feels like dying because he can't feel life in his veins
And he walks home, to a room painted black
He turns on the TV but can't bear seeing those who only own a shack
Why watch people when he hates them all?
So he watches his window, watching summer turn to fall
And wonders why he has to be so alone in his world
He wonders what will be on his record when in heaven it's unfurled
He wonders if there is a life after this, a heaven, or a hell?
Why reward or punish someone who has done nothing but rebel?
So he stands up in his room, in this town he's come to abhor
And looks around, but all there is, is a mattress on the floor.

This Franky poem's better than Katie's

Sara — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 18:12:03 GMT

A black blur.

Walking slowly,

to his chair.

He sits,

quietly,

for eternity.

Standing up,

RARELY

for a unknown picture,

an unknown smile,

an unknown wave.

Story in Progress

jenh — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 05:33:01 GMT

Story in progress by Jen Hight

It all happened when someone left the window open. Yesterday the girl in this room had sent lightning onto the walls, but when she returned from school, her room was full of doves.

"Mo-o-om!" she screamed.

Her mother ran in and cried, "Clare, this is worse than when you turned you teachers’ hair blue!"

"It isn’t my fault," Clare cried.

"Clare," her father entered, "we have a letter that you’ve been accepted into Magix High."

"Dad, that would make me a witch," Clare joked.

"You’re a witch," her parents said.

The next day, Clare was packing her things. No one knew where she was going except her parents. Everything she needed was at school. Her mother showed her to old railroad tracks, then disappeared.

Clare suddenly saw hundreds of kids waiting, too. A boy was talking to a girl a bit older than him.

"Hi," a girl called to Clare. "Do you need to know something?"

Clare shook her head as a train pulled up.

"This is strange," Clare whispered.

Clare tripped on the steps. Everyone laughed. Clare hated her long legs. Her golden hair fell in front of her face. Plus, she had ripped her favorite jeans.

A boy helped her up. He looked Asian and his hair was spiky.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Sure," Clare growled. "So who are you?"

"Alex," he said smiling. "And you’re?"

"Clare," she snapped.

Silence followed her name. Alex looked stunned. He just sort of stared. A girl suddenly climbed in the train.

"You know we’re leaving," she said matter of factly.

Clare and Alex was in the same compartment. Clare now noticed people wrote on compartments. Clare pulled out her pen and wrote Clare, Alex, and _________. Alex smiled, muttering to himself. The girl from before entered the compartment.

"I’m Briana," she said. "You’re Clare and You’re Alex."

Clare got up smiling and wrote Briana on the door. They watched as the names turned into their favorite colors. Briana’s was sky blue, Alex’s was orange, and Clare’s was violet.

"This is the beginning," Clare announced, "of a beautiful friendship."

Clare, Alex, and Briana stood at the station in front of Magix High. Clare stared in awe. The high school was a castle, and it was huge. She felt Briana, who was standing next to her, whisper something about us living in America. A teacher entered wearing a dress from the Middle Ages.

"Freshmen, follow me," she ordered.

Clare boldly was the first to step forward. Every one else followed. They were led up the steps to an amazing banquet room, packed with the older students. Every one ohh’d and ahh’d. Clare was too stunned to talk. The teacher was talking again, but Clare didn’t notice.

"Aroara Briana."

Briana stepped forward and picked up a stick. Clare just noticed Briana was African-American. Now the stock pulled her arm towards a table. Words exploded out of the stick spelling Gryfin.

Several kids passed and Clare knew the tables were Grifin, Basilisk, Phoenix, and Sphinx.

"Alex Chang."

Gryfin.

"Shela Dickinson."

Sphinx.

"Clare Heartwood."

Clare froze as she picked up the stick. Suddenly, it shot out…

"Grifin."

The kids at the Grifin table shouted and cheered so loud, Clare thought she was going deaf. Sitting down in front of Alex and Briana, Clare felt relieved. Time just flew by revealing a banquet.

Clare just piled her plate full of food and shoved it in her mouth. A girl from the Basilisk table came over with two more girls.

"Ripped pants is sooo 2005," the lead girl said. "I’m Haley. This is Beth, and this is June."

"Where do we sleep?" Clare said.

"Freshmen," a teacher said, "of Grifin, follow me."

Clare slowly followed her to a portrait of a girl who looked an awful lot like Clare.

"Password," she said.

"Lunestra," the teacher answered. "Girls’ dorm on the right, boys’ on the left. I’m Miss CrabbApple. Good night."

Clare pulled on her pajamas and lay in bed.

"Briana," Clare whispered. "Are you asleep?"

"No," Briana muttered, "I’m dead. Good night."

"’Night," Clare murmured before she fell asleep.

Clare continued to read Potions and Poisons. Clare quickly murmured the incantation. Next to her, Alex paractically got the potion right. He swayed on the spot, then was out cold.

"Nitwit," Haley snapped. "It’s mandrake leaf, not mandrake root."

Briana finally lost her cool.

"That’s it," Briana yelled, grabbing Haley’s caldron. "Do us a favor. Shut up!"

Clare helped Briana get the caldron over Haley’s head. Then tipping it, the potion fell all over Haley. Haley fell asleep and pitched forward into her empty caldron.

Mr. Stewerts came in and took one good look at the classroom and smiled.

"100 points for Grifin," he announced, "for friendship and loyalty."

The bell rang and Clare walked off towards History of Magic. If there was an answer, she’d find it there.

"It was a dark and stormy night," Clare read, "and the vines entangled themselves around Celina…"

"Go on," Miss CrabbApple ordered.

"Heartwood’s neck," Clare whispered. "Was the Merlin Clan at an end? But Celina rose and triumphed, knowing a Merlin Clan girl, named Clare Heartwood, would win against a creature far worse."

Clare was relieved when class was over. Briana always was relieved when class was over. Alex was reading a bulletin in front of the school.

"Dance on Halloween," he read. "Halloween’s Friday, and it’s Wednesday."

Briana shrugged. "So we’ll go with Alex."

"Miss Heartwood," Miss CrabbApple whispered to Clare. "I hear you play guitar."

"Yes," Clare muttered. "I even brought my own guitar here."

"Will you play at the dance?"

"Yes!"

Clare stared at the stage, getting ready to play. Her black silk dress clung to her body.

Shutting her eyes, she strummed on her guitar letting the music take over. A strange impulse took over Clare. Clare landed in the splits with her pitch black guitar behind her head. Rock-N-Roll exploded from her hands, but she didn’t care. She was having fun!

Looking at the grade clock, she realized it was midnight. But it was worth it.

It was a night to remember.

ywcPapania News

Envy

Paint Me Like I Am

Paint Me Like I Am

(V) (-.-) (")(")

People

yet another frankie poem

Home

Franky 3

mr. dan

Mattress On The Floor

This Franky poem's better than Katie's

Story in Progress

(V)
(-.-)
(")(")