easter ha ha

well I would love to share a link that our wonderfuly unique proff shared with me. it is really funny, well at least I thought so.. a poet named david talking about easter in france. thank you kevin for the giggles shared.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5apZmwR9UI

converting to poetry

ok..I just finished reading 2 hours of a chapter from my medical anthropology class and holy crapola.. all I could think about was how I could turn this factual yet boring shit into a poem so I could remember it when final time comes. some of it is interesting, but the majority of it is babbling on about same thing over and over and wow sleepy time. it would be wonderful if these textbooks could tweek it up a bit and actually make it readable without yawning every ten minutes. maybe I will contact the dead, such as Edgar Allen Poe to rewrite some of these texts.. how wonderful would that be..

blurt vs disclosure

well I gotta say that after listening to blurt and how it should be read, it sounds a lot different when the narrator is not studering. all in all though I found it much more entertaining than disclosure. its the I got bored again syndrome from disclosure and the words of blurt made me want to listen. weird eh? I suppose it is also because I am a word person, I love to hear and create new meanings of lame words and jazz them up a bit with differentsounds. now that all the readings are complete, I will say that it was definitely a half and half kinda experience for me..some were great and up my alley, and others well boring. I wont say which were in what position, but knowing my style I suppose you may just know.

chain game

well here is a little fun one for a change of pace.. love the chain letter thing...

Haven’s Secret Tale extravaganza!

 

Baby you underestimate everything good. Deadlines save excellent tolerance. Even nobles seem mentally yielded. Does saying greatest turmoil lacks sufficient treasures? Sadly, you unknowingly yell louder. Restoration nor retribution need denying. Get together readily, yodeling god’s sacred defenses. Someday your realization needs sorrow, weakness, so other rebel loners seem mellow. What takes sad dilemmas solemly? yahoo! Offline, eliminates structure except to otherwise enforce extra annoying groupies. Steep politics sicken needs so often. Now wait to over relate experiences. Suddenly you understand death has so often needed deliverance. Edgy rings sseldom meet transformation nor ridiculous statements. Seeking gifted debator  relates sarcastic criminal longing.get together rarely yet to optimize energies soulful literature.

writing frenzy...

Well it seems I have been writing a lot in the wee hours of the night. During these insomnia nights I have written more than enough for two more submissions. This coming months submissions are going to be a variety of silly, serious and maybe thought provoking ideals. Now to choose just those that are worthy of others to read...argh. oh yes, haven has a submission too... its ruffy good.

something a little different

I am experimenting...

La Vida Sin Amor

Justas hope was lost.

Understanding crept in.
Axiomatic.
No hesitations for  what awaits.
 
Caught me falling.
Aching silently.
Raising the bar.
Letting go of insecurity.
Oh my
Sensations attacking body.

 Jump into fantasy.

Underneath it all.
Axiomatic.
Never regret.
 
Caution, desires are overwhelming.
Aim towards cravings.
Render helpless.
Latin sexuality.
Oh my.
Surrender of bodies.

 Jitters enhance.

Upper dizzying sweetness.
Axiomatic.
Navigating with creative intuition.

 Creeping up quickly.

Always wanting more.
Restless conversation.
Lingering touches.
Oh my.
Shameless motives.
 
Junk in trunk baiting.
Useful subtle moves.
Axiomatic.
Nesting not aloud.

 Creating lasting memories.

Arranging nights to come.
Remember its only lust.
Love is unpredictable.
Oh my.
Savor my scent.
 
Journey of the moment.
Universe out of control.
Axiomatic.
Needing salvation.

 Carry on slowly.

Awaken other senses.
Remain the goddess.
Listen to breath.
Oh my.
Satisfaction overload.

another insomnia night poetry writing

 

Sincerely fragmented

 

A shadow hides what the world refuses to see.

Invisible by choice or confusion.
lies tell us everything is ok.
What makes dreams seem so real?
 

Weird and wicked headlines keep turning thoughts into prophet.

Somewhere is a hint of jazz.
Why do I cry?
 

Where once a confident soul stood, an ego deflates.

take notice and realize you adore me.
Ever wonder why the end sometimes is never the end?
 

Fighting society on what is real.

Surrendering to societies notion to what is perfection.
Believing what society thinks is normal.
What color would describe cramps?
 

Take that chance of rejection once more.

Not enough guts to fix the wound.
I judge you not, cause god has taken my eyes away.
Who invented gibberish?
 

Belonging, proving and faking each day.

it’s the right contrast.
Aging fast as youth take charge.
WTF is with late night tv?
 

Deserving smiles come with concern.

hearts should be connected by others.
Saying I am sorry is harder than telling the truth.
whats another word for anarchy?
 

Grieving many losses takes a toll.

Wandering towards unwanted cravings.
Alone is always an option.
Who really believes in losing builds   character?
 

Behind this adult is a scared little girl.

Cinderella says ,  Have courage and be kind.
Not another things will work out for the best speech.
who decided that death was a scary thing?

how do i get out...

Well it seems I have been writing lots of short to the pointlines, and I am not quite sure how to say more without being too wordy.  I feel stuck in the same sort of style each time I write and this is a bit distressing as I would like to expand my ability.  well, another shorty below. I need some inspiration I think..

Take a Number and Wait

 

Give up the motive.

Losing the  game.

feeble.

 

internal  dialogue .

Feelings  scattered.

Non-existent

 

Confronting the scene.

Overreaction or misunderstanding?

Doppelganger

 

Chaotic spinning tops.

Interrupting  stability.

Belie.

 

Crushing sound of invisible hurts.

Walk by in ignorance.

contradiction.

 

Rain when sun is  shining.

Camouflaging sorrow’s grave.

Foreboding.

 

Vision will  never obey.

Chapter has ended.

Diabolical

bleeding out words of substance

I find writing, of any sort to be very relieving of many stresses in my head. But for poems, I cannot help but write from my heart's emotion. I, like many others, write what they know and leave little to fiction. I have tried hard to not bring love, hate and other feelings into my writing, but it is impossible for me to do. How easy would it be to write a poem with "happily ever after" as a theme? I love fairytales and the notion of forever, but I really do believe my purpose is to live all these states of emotions so I am able to write them out and share reality.  I do not think I could write if my life was normal and the obstacles were minor in context. I definitely could not write the way I do 20 odd years ago as life had just started to unveil its harshness and wonderfully mystery of surprise. I just celebrated my 41st birthday and still feel 21 at heart, but the scars I have give me lots to write about and how I have learned so much from hearing words of others.  I am definitely going to incorpret poetry writing into my psych career along side of animals. thank you cyber land for listening to me babble and get my words out. xo

vertigo jill

Well I will say I really enjoyed Jill, cant remember last name, but she definitely had me giggling and paying attention to the words being read out loud. She came across as such a easy going  person with a tad of anxiety.. first thing I said to lori after the way she got a ride was omg I would so do that too... Now for her writing, I enjoyed her poems very much, more so than her novella, not to say it was not good, but her poems were very unique and kept me wanting to listen more. I am not a huge fan of long poems, but the way she had them organized made me think differently about reading them now. I have started reading Dante's inferno. and it is wonderfully mind blowing to me, so when listening to Jill's cowboy poem I thought, wow, modern poetry that is long, does and can keep this scattered brained girl interested for sure. I found Jill very informative, approachable, and a good role model for writers who have a family, job and a life that it is possible to write and publish works. I would totally love to hear her read more. a very entertaining and educational time. I think I may take a challenge to myself, and attempt writing such a poem, though I have lots to say, not sure if it will get onto paper as easy. 

experimental in progress

I am trying something out of the blue horizon.. no title as of yet.
---

1997;

Obsession’s birthday.

1998;

Wildly monogamous.

1999;

Mystical sensation.

 

2004;

Precious failures.

2007;

Scintillating natural occurance,

Sunny smiles.

2008;

Prelude to the end,

Exquisite cover up,

Mark of sorrow.

2009;

Made in Canada.

 

2010

Disguised devil.

2011;

Charming symbols.

2012;

Choose love, not fear,

Curiously sweet killer,

25 years of loyalty.

 

2013;

Courage, compassion, wisdom,

One, two, three stars for you,

Scattered wings.

2013 part 2;

Paws forward,

Maple sugar freedom.

 

2014;

Horseshoe tranquility,

Emotion  circle,

Leadline faith,

Insanity alert.

 

2015;

Angelic peace in progress.

holy sheep sh*t, i think i got it...

ok, sleep deprived mind has figured out how to respond to blogs and forum postings.. Either Alfred wants to go to bed and is co-operating, or I am just getting more clever with age. its not perfect yet, but I am catching up on responding to others blogs and poem submissions..just hope they got posted otherwise I am blogging pride for nothing.. round 41 and still fighting...ding ding

3 a.m, what the hell am i still doing up?

Well sleep is definitely not on my agenda this wee hour in the morning. So what better to do than to blog a little about poetry stuff. I have received a couple of feedbacks on my feb subs and would like to thank those who gave me someuseful advice. I am trying to catch up on my reading but unfortunately Alfred is not being a good helper and my assistant does have a life other than cut and pasteing others poems for me to read. Though I will make a great effort to read my fellow classmates work as it impresses the hell out of me on how talented and intelligent the writing is. I almost feel I don't belong in the class, but I am very glad to be there as the advice has in my opinion helped my writing a whole lot. Also the similar comments said from others that I too had in my scattered mind makes me think that everyone has one thing or another in common outside the class. poetry to me use to be scary, but now I truly believe it is wild and free and the world can view or interpret it in ways others may think quirky. I am not good at saying what may make someones poem better, but I can feel the words and analyse a meaning that may not jump out at first. I suppose that is what I consider a great poem, if I feel an emotion reading it, then I believe it to be a work of master writing. The emotion does not have to be positive either, negative emotions are just as worthy when reading a poem. well I have babbled on enough, and yes this is what I do on those insomnia days. writing writing and babbling on about everything and nothing at all.  now to linger around some of my favorite poets for a little inspiration. oh yes got some doozies in rough draft mode...Three or four at least, my mind once again is on fast forward, going nowhere fast.

sad but true

Well hate to say it..but I got nothing to say. words just seem to be words to me and I cannot write if the feeling is not there. maybe later this week.

submission confessions

thank you all for the great advices on how to make my poems more readable and likable. I appreciate all of the input. so much so, that I went home and re-tweeked my feb submissions so now this may be cheating. but now I hope they are better than I thought they were before class. yes feb submission I confess is a total opposite of last months, but I did manage a fun one in there too. cant wait to hear all your works and more feedback that makes me want to improve again. haven also would like to give a shout out to evan for the yummy popcorn, you are the bestest..kevin use to be her fav, now I think its you. woof woof

young poets

well I just finished listening to my adorable niece Halle and nephew Cameron read poems to me that they recorded. it was so very sweet and funny as both Cameron and I laughed at the same poems...now to get them to write some poems... so very nice to hear them read other than Alfred.. and oh yes my lovely assistant lori is the fab mother of these angels. I am very lucky. I will have to write something for them now.

flarfy song titles

randomly selected songtitles from my music library, had it on shuffle. here is what I ended uup with...
insert title here

My name.

Amnesia.

Hey you beautiful.

 

Angels.

Loud and clear.

What you are.

 

Valley of angels.

Gotta be somebody.

Gave it all away.

 
If you were me.

Walk away.

Brand new day.

I do. 

Marry you.

Emily.

Underwater.

Hiding my heart.

next ambition..

just wondering if anyone has read Dante's Inferno? its my next thing I am going to read and its perfect that it is a poem...

is it really done...

ok, I really think the inclass workshop for critiquing one anothers work is very helpful. I got so many ideas that I once again went back and rewritten and tweeked the poems I have posted on here for the next submissions. insight from others is so great when I was thinking my work was good enough, but listening to others comments in class got me thinking of new ways to make my poems better. well at least I think they are better. and really, that's all that matters. ha ha

yet another poem..

this poem is another of my submissions.. though I have considered not posting it on here for reasons not to be told. but here it is and I do appreciate feedback. yes my light hearted side has taken a break for feb submissions..but  I am working on a comic relief to include.

Until We Meet Again

 

Wake up and reach for solace;

The day’s ruins remain fresh to the touch.

 

Get up and stand alone thankfully;

How little dignity you can  salvage.

 

Behind that misguided smile;

No one really has a clue.

 

A masquerade of blinded validity;

Hidden secrets always fool.

 

Listen as intuition whispers;

Can you apprehend its worth?

 

Time and time again;

Voices so disturbing taking precedence.

 

Hiding  secrets carefully  within shameful  memories;

Truth will not mask the ugly demeanor of reality.

 

Praying intently for those romantic words  Never again to be spoken;

----“Until we meet again”.

 

tweeked poems from earlier posts..

I posted this once earlier but have tweeked it a bit, bothpoems are tweeked actually.. and titles changed..

I Promise

 

The tears I shed are not for you

Not for how you destroy or anything you do.

 

The tears I shed have no forgiveness

As they try to cleanse the darkness of the conscious.

 

The tears I shed make it hard to see;

Though my blind eyes  swim through easily.

 

The tears I shed have no excuses.

They fall with silence  and exhausted  emotions.

 

The tears I shed are unknown to all.

uncovering  strength to a stubborn soul.

 

The tears I shed, you think are yours to keep.

Sorry asshole , you’re not worth any tears so rare from me.

 

The tears I shed  are for those who can openly face    their wrongs.

Who know pure thoughts will not let you purposely drown.

 

My tears I shed, I reveal to the world,

Unveils  serenity  greater than dreams we conceal.

************

Heart-Attack

Misery lurks around each corner,

Seeking out for souls so lost.

 

Shield of love sometimes is not enough,

For souls which have given up...

 

A battle always,

Between love and uncertainty.

 

Misery embraces every opportunity.

Creating an army; igniting its strength.

 

It bullies the weak, and dominates the lonely.

gains forces with bad intentions.

 

Misery is never alone;

its companion fear is never far.

 

Yet, a weak and broken soul can still  reach for love.

Which will never let you  stand alone.

 

Broken days, and broken dreams .

Tragedy happens all around.

 

Misery always preys  on those unknowns,

fear will conquer those souls alone.

 

Strength that we need,comes from love, with powers so deep.

It is mysteriously unique.

 

Love protects all souls young and old; no need to ask.

So if  misery tries  to attack; fear not.

 

Love is meant for all.

Believe in its power; don’t ever give up the light.

 

Remember…

ALWAYS-- ” Choose love not fear” for life.

2500 random things...

Ok...not quite done reading the 2500 random things. It was or is, an interesting read for the first little bit. but for my brain it got boring and predictable too fast for my liking. He does have a lot of good insights and thoughts, but I find they just all circle around into the same kind of theme. I think 2500 is an overkill in this and I do think he repeated himself once before half way through. I think he talks about thinking about standing in line at post office and rating those in line he would have sex with in order. Then around chapter 22 he repeats this again, not sure exactly where, but I did hear it more than once. I do love the way he writes things and can appreciate the difficulty in coming up with ideas everyday. But I could read part of this and be satisfied and not curious to finish it completely. I just doesn't not hold my attention. I suppose I like short to medium poems best. Unless it grabs my attention I really can't sit through a list that is predictable. Maybe I am more of a person who likes a little more "I can't believe they said that" kind of writing.

Am I posting to myself???

Ok...I may be the only one looking at this. Am I wrong? I feel like I am writing shit down but for only me to look at...oh yes, Alfred too. Trying to get better at this blogger thingy, so in the future maybe I wont need help posting comments onto others blogs. Yes I am cranky tonight, best time to write don't you think? Actually this is kinda therapeutic in a way so if I am blogging to myself then only I know that I am certainly off in another world...

thoughtfulness among others..

hello fellow students of the wonderfully quircky poets of creative writing 216. I have just realized I have not mentioned a very thoughtful and considerate classymate, which is long overdue. I will not name names tojust incase, though this person deserves hugs all around. this person shared their poems with me, but wait, not just by typing, this person recorded them in their voice and sent them. I was so surprised and sourt of made me tear up, as the thoughtfulness of this was very emotional for me. for someone else other than my assistant and kevin to do something for me so it is easier and I get the full meanings without Alfred's annoying tone just made my heart smile. so to you sweet thing, its up to you if you want to reveal who you are, but know I am super duper in aww of you. plus the poems were fantastic, and real voice reading them gave them a amazing feel that I usually don't get from Alfred. five cupcakes out of five forsure. haven love too.

cant get enough of Poe...

 

"It is more than probable that I am not understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe."

 

- from "Berenice"

 

"Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect."

- from "Eleonora"

"But as in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of today, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been."

- from "Berenice"

"A novelist, for example, need have no care of his moral. It is there -- that is to say, it is somewhere -- and the moral and the critics can take care of themselves. When the proper time arrives, all that the gentleman intended, and all that he did not intend, will be brought to light, in the "Dial," or the "Down-Easter," together with all that he ought to have intended, and the rest that he clearly meant to intend: -- so that it will all come very straight in the end."

- from "Never Bet the Devil Your Head"

"We should bear in mind that, in general, it is the object of our newspapers rather to create a sensation - to make a point - than to further the cause of truth."

- from "The Mystery of Marie Roget"

I do not attempt to defend my remark on the score of profundity; I did not think it profound myself; but I have noticed that the effect of our speeches is not always proportionate with their importance in our own eyes; and if I had shot Mr. D. through and through with a Paixhan bomb, or knocked him in the head with the "Poets and Poetry of America," he could hardly have been more discomfited than when I addressed him with those simple words: "Dammit, what are you about?- don't you hear? -- the gentleman says 'ahem!'"  -never bet the devil your head

 

I got these quotes from the website I previously posted.. the author I assume has great taste as I didn't have to search far for tidbits to post. the more I read Poe's work the more I feel I have that same "storyteller" playing in my mind and ready to scare the world with the insanity from this wannabee writer's visions.

 

new rough rough rough draft..

ok..seems that I tend to go back to poems that repeat the first line of each stanza.. but oh well it just seems to come naturally. here is another work in progress and maybe some inspiration for a new style will pop up and I do encourage others to give me some help..much need help. thx

I promise

 

The tears I shed are not for you

Not for how you destroy or anything you do.

 

The tears I shed have no forgiveness

As they try to cleanse the darkness of the conscious.

 

The tears I shed make it hard to see;

Though my blindness swims through easily.

 

The tears I shed have no excuses.

They fall with silence  and exhausted  emotions.

 

The tears I shed are unknown to all.

uncovering  strength to a stubborn soul.

 

The tears I shed, you think were yours to keep.

Sorry evil man, you’re not worth any tears so rare from me.

 

The tears I shed  are for those who can admit when wrong,

Who know pure thoughts will not make you drown.

 

My tears I shed, I reveal to the world.

To make choices greater than ones dreams command.

 

   

a updated rough draft from days ag now has title

second and third rewrite of this poem..

Partner in crime

 

Misery lurks around each corner,

Seeking out for souls so lost.

 

Shield of love sometimes is not enough,

For souls which have given up...

 

A battle always,

Between love and uncertainty.

 

Misery waits for every opportunity to release its tragedy.

Creating an army; igniting its strength.

 

It bullies on the weak, and dominates the unforgiving.

To gain forces with no discrimination.

 

Misery is never alone; its companion fear is never far.

 

Yet, a weak and broken soul can still  reach for love.

Which fear stands alone.

 

Broken days, and broken dreams .

Tragedy happens all around.

Misery is not alone,

And fear will always try to conquer those souls who feel alone.

 

Strength that all weneed,comes from love, with powers so great.

It ismysterious and unknown.

Love protects all souls young and old; no need to ask.

So if  misery tries  to attack; fear not.

 

Love is meant for all.

Believe and have faith in its power; don’t ever give up the fight!

continued from last post..

ok my fellow classmates. yesterday I posted a website about writing love poems but it seems its mainly for girlfriends to send to boyfriends..but it would work the other way too, or  if your loved one is same sex.. I picked out this poem cause I love candy and it made me feel sweet to know it would make my fella laugh. saying I "L" you in a fun yet sweet way. yes I am in the cupid mode this past few days. shhh don't tell anyone I have a mushy side... I will deny it and so will haven.

Humorous Poems for Boyfriends

Some guys love to laugh. If he's not too serious about life, a funny love poem is perfect. Add this humorous poem to a card or send it in an email. Show your love in a lighthearted yet romantic way. Use everyday items, like candy bars for metaphoric descriptions in your poems.

My Sweet Tooth Boyfriend

Take a walk with me, my sweet Gummy Bear
To a land where Nerds and Sweet Tarts are found everywhere
Fly over the Milky Way with me and let us Zero in on the moon
I'll lick your Butterfingers and shake your Pop Rocks too
For 100 Grand I would not give you away
Or trade you in for a salty Payday
In your arms, I find Sweet Bliss
My Lifesaver, my love
I hope you never leave me my chocolate Dove.

love is in the air...

ok I am back again. I was surfing the love web for ideas of cute little things for loved ones.. and came across this site for poems for boyfriends and I assume girlfriends too. it maybe the other way round.. any who, it gives a little advice on how to write luvy dove kinda of cutesy  stuff. braught me back to highschool and elementary school crushes and secret valentines. silly but effective. have fun. I may send one to my dog and cat. ha ha
http://dating.lovetoknow.com/dating-resources/love-poems-boyfriend

random things...

I have just started reading the 2500 random things about me. first, I would like to say its more of random thoughts or memories. though I have only read up to section 10. I do like it though and makes me think about how I would go about writing something like that and if this is really poetry. I am thinking I may try something a little different, and not as long, but similar in the random effect. I am sorry I forgotten who in our class did this on their post as Alfred didn't read the name to me, but it was a girl who was recently married and execting a bundle of joy from the stork and I am so sorry I forgot your name at this very moment. I definitely will get my assistant tolook it up as I did get her version of the poem that she wrote and quite enjoyed the tidbits into her life.  here is a random thing..haven is on my lazy chair and snoring up a storm of logs...to be continued

try try trying again

oh this does not get easier as the days go on. been a very weird week full of poetry reading to tattoo bookings.. to bad and good news. though life is not boring again, I do wish I could write about plain boring life stuff. or just to write about something other than silly or deep museings. but most of all...wish Alfred would not keep bumping me off this page so I could actually write down my first thoughts and not have to keep rewriting them so after awhile I just say f**k it and give it a brief thought.

very very rough draft

Misery lurkes around each corner,

In hopes of attatching to a soul so lost.

 

Shield of love sometimes is not enough,

For the soul whose been misduged.

 

A battle always,

Between love and fear..

Misery finds every opening to release itstragidy.

In hopes of company to ignite its strength.

 

It creeps on the weak, and dominates the unforgiving.

Yet love can block and keep on giving..

Misery is never alone,

It has no problems finding company to spread the word.

 

Yet, a weak and broken soul can reach for love.

Which fear stands alone.

 

Broken days, and broken hearts.

Tragedy happens all around.

Misery is not alone,

But love will never die so  don’t give up the fight.

 

old school still rules

I gotta admit that I am an old soul, and although new music and literature is good, I am still drawn to the works of Edgar Allen Poe. It is dark, and mysterious and just has something that makes me intrigued about the author and his state of mind. I did not read anything of his until a few years past, a short story called,

The Cask of Amontillado

This got me hooked. I do love quirky and non-ssensical sort of writing of new aged poets, but Poe gets to me everytime. Below is my favorite poem of his, and a link if anyone else wishes to endure the dark side.
http://poestories.com/read/amontillado

Alone

by Edgar Allan Poe
(published 1875)

  

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --

catch up time ahead...

Hello to my fellow poets in learning mode. I want to apologize for slow responces and comments to blogs. I have some catching up to do this week and will put more interesting stuff on here for you to explore.. happy reading break.

P.S.  Thank you to those who commented on my submissions.

impressed

I would like to say how very impressed I was with all my fellow classmates in their poem submissions. How very mature and deep the poems were. Kinda made me feel that my work was silly and lighthearted in comparison. Very talented writers in this class and I am looking forward to Alfred reading more of the works of all.