your vision, your voice
The Author or a book
can be the narrator.
Or, the Author could
be the main character.
The Author could simply
not be in the story.
Or, the Author could
be on the sidelines
watching and waiting.
The Author could be
the villain or the hero.
The Author could
even be the puppet master
controlling everything.
Watching in amusement.
Or…
The Author could
just be that.
The Author
Pikachu loves Christmas
When he was Pikachu he loved Christmas and,
he turned into a Christmas Pokemon.
He loved cookies and the jingle bells
and the bells went, ding dong.
Black shadows. Cold. Near.
Tailing me with dark despair.
It slays happiness.
Colors
Every where
The joy you bring me
That’s why I care
It’s done
Wait no
There’s more to go
Turn
I wish i knew how, had ability to turn
Away from you and not look back to see if it
Affected you, My turning away , Walking off
I want you to miss this, and i fail to pass of
The D i s t a n c e as a gravely unfortunate turn
Of events, see truth with desperation.
Blinds me, consumes and i hate to admit it
Impossible to justify the breaking off
Of any contact to once again inward turn
I want to reach within, find this and turn it off!
The Jellyfish’s glow is bright as the sun
Jellyfish are slimy like slime with too much water
Their tentacles is as sticky as maple syrup
Oh my, Oh my
Don’t let it sting you
Don’t give the jellyfish a dime
TO ME that’s a crime
They are also predators of the sea
I take a dip in the water
And all I see is the deep blue sea
AHHHHHHHHHHHH
I was wrong
It came right after me!!!!
Un día el gato salió.
Miró al cielo y miró a la luna.
El gato pensó que era un plato de leche.
Dijo-Plato de leche. No te vayas.-
Se subió al escalón más alto.
Trató de agarrarla pero no pudo.
Se fue hasta el techo para agarrarlo.
Se brincó y cayó en la alberca.
El gato salió corriendo.
Se miró en la alberca y dijo-No es un plato de leche, es la luna.-
Se metió a la casa y nunca salió.
Dear the preceding generation,
Life isn’t easy, but when will it be?
Why do I suffer while others are free?
They get to stand while we’re on our knees.
They mingle and talk while we beg and plead.
“The future is yours!”
But it isn’t, not really.
We have the leftovers, all rotted and smelly,
But that won’t stop us because we are strong.
We’ll force ourselves to all get along.
We’ll clean up the rubble and start over again,
The world will be better in the end.
What we were given wasn’t ideal to work with,
But we’ll put up with it to make it all worth it.
If this is a test, we’ll surely have aced it.
Until then, we’ll say our farewells.
We bid you adieu, from our generation to you.
Music is a storm
Wind, rain, lightning, thunder
All the sounds combine
It can control you
It can knock you off your feet
Music is a storm
The storm can come in different ways
Light wind, pouring rain, cracking, thunder
Then the storm passes by
Only to be started again
And again
And again
And again
The storm never stops
Because no one wants it to
Music is a storm
The driving force of nature.
Fear is not just a feeling
it’s our motivation.
We can’t survive without it.
We rely on it.
We depend on it.
Fear pushes us
to make limits.
Some say they can conquer it.
They are really only able
to hide it.
Without Fear
we are aimless
specs of nothing.
Always dying never living.
Without Fear
we wouldn’t be here.
Rely on Fear.
Listen to Fear.
But don’t let Fear
drive you
to far.