Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Agenda 10/07 Alphabet, Lie, Empty

grammar.ccc.commnet.edu/GRAMMAR/quiz_list.htm
Work on a few interactive quizzes in punctuation, grammar, spelling, and mechanics at this website.


Creative Writing Exercise:
Pick one exercise:

1. The Alphabet Story/Essay: Write a story or essay in which each sentence begins with the next letter of the alphabet, beginning with A (i.e. 26 sentences).

or

2. Write about a lie. Was it your lie? Was it someone else's lie? What were the consequences of the lie? Were they positive? Negative? What feelings were involved?

or

3. Here's your title: Empty. create a piece of writing that fits that title.

or

4. It's election season and although you cannot vote, you have opinions.
What's right about this country? You have only 100 words, so use them wisely.
What's wrong with this country? You have only 100 words, so use them wisely.

10 comments:

nautica said...

So I scream,
When I'm not being listened to.
And I cry,
When I feel some pain
I want people to listen to me
Not surpress me because I'm a child
It hurts to be tuned out
But no one understands unless their beong tuned out to
So I tune them out
When I'm not being listened to
And I smile
When they feel the pain that they inflict on me.

Wade said...

An apple fell from a tree. Barry picked it up and inspected it for bad spots. Carefully, he analyzed every centimeter of the apple. Danny walked over to Barry. Even though Danny knew what was happening, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"For the littlest thing I do," said Barry, "you have to ask?"
"Greetings don’t start with asking me a question."
"Hello, Danny."
"I appreciate that."
"Just put down the apple, it's annoying me.”
“Killing my way of life doesn’t mean that I that I have to put down the apple”
“Larry shut-up.”
“My name is Barry.”
“Now that you told me this for the third time this week, I’ll just except that or-“
“Or what, what will you do?”
“People, are nice some times, but I don’t think that you’re being as nice as you could be.”
“Quit the crap Danny.”
“Right after I tell you some thing. Something important.”
“Tell me something important Danny.”
“Ukuleles are small guitars.”
“Very good to know. Well, was that the important thing you had to tell me?”
“X-marks the spot.”
“You’re telling me crazy crap.”
“Zeus is a god.”


“You’re crazy, stupid, and empty. You’re soul is gone and you’re life is trash. You’re empty inside, and that’s all you can think of. You think of restarted crap that is common sense. You’re crazy.”

thndrft said...

Amen, amen, as I shout from the walls of an ever-changing brain lining, and I shout it with the innermost disbelief. By the way, I see it; I only have three years to find out what’s right about me, and what has yet to be corrected. Chamomile lotion coaxes my arms into relaxation when I cry out loud to whatever is in the sky, or sitting on the ground. Dare I say that I felt the weight of everything upon my soul, yet when I looked inside, I only found the burden of a system of thoughts. Effigies broke off from the sides of my inner turmoil and attempted to run, however their feet were adorned with oil, and my soul decorated with fire. Furthermore, the idea of the spiritual feels as though it can’t be embodied, but I can feel the staircase leading to it. Granted it steps away from me with each step I gain, sending me up two and back three… Homely styles of fighting minds is the was for you to understand that people could not be so easily swayed by force, but only by constant ingemination and fervent conviction could you know… If only I had the ability to play the unknown; to control lives would be the ultimate for my self-esteem, and would in turn, give me the strength to control my own. Just as I feel as I’m getting somewhere, the means of getting there breaks my legs, and each time something burns, each time I doubt a little more. Killed though, because I don’t want to die without knowing that thing… that thing that so lovingly isn’t here… but that thing I revere and fear and love so deeply that I’d have the most trouble terminating myself. Logistics are too much on the soul. Modes and means are the mechanics of the heart, a contradiction in itself. Nothing is the same, now that it is November, she said. Opposite day is the day I actually find out who I am, and so I’m excited for it, though it may bring the end of the world. Potluck dinners were never my facet, and whole body determination was never my strong suit. Questioning authority is what I long to do, however the brain is set in such a way that to question authority is to question my core. Remember it doesn’t work. Stuck now in this void of devoid and null thoughts and feelings, inching my way through syntax and tone and hiding my blemishes in the spaces of these words… Trotsky type execution is what I feel is next for the world, and it shall be done under my hand. Universal love and death are interchangeable. Veneration lacks the soul, but guess what? everything’s a construct of the human mind, and from there spawns our Matrix, our never ending low consciousness minefield that constantly blows the head off of its constituents. Women are men, the Bible says so. Xylophone. You. Zap.

vicky1234 said...

as i listening to the birds chirp
when the wind twirled
and sun beamed into my eyes
but sun-glasses leaning
traffic getting stopped
people yelling for a taxi
broken hearted
a smile that will last for ever
perfect realationships
im growling like a empty stomach

Aubrey said...

Empty

Empty. Again the bottle is empty. Grumbling, the 43 year old, overweight, underpaid, and underdressed man sauntered toward the 36 year old, over-cluttered, under-furnished, and under-used kitchen. He opened the 12 year old, over-stuffed, under-cleaned, and under-valued refrigerator and groaned as he reached down to the right shelf and picked up another over-hopped, under-diluted, under-priced bottle of beer.

Jerry Figueroa said...

Another day in School of the Arts! Better than every other school in the district. Complaints about the school are very rare. Drama and dance majors have their own shows every year. Even Creative Writing majors have shows to show off their talent. Full of talent and great people, SOTA is a beautiful place to be. Generally, students graduate but there are a couple that don’t, but the overall average is very high. High school students are very mature and polite. I personally love this school. Join our school and become successful. Kind, respectful, and responsible are the students of this school. Love is shown by every teacher in the school. Music majors show off their talents every year in the schools very popular shows suck as Hispanic Heritage and Black History. No student is left behind. Of course, SOTA administrative staff is like no other. Parents love the school and their opinion is very important to SOTA. Questions are answered very quickly by the box office reception or even the principal. Rollover classes are given to the middle school students so that they can get a taste of every major offered. Student Identification is given at the beginning of the year which is used to get on the RTS buss and into the lunchroom. Telephones are offered to students in the house offices on every floor in case of any emergency. Unless you are a senior, they do not allow students to step foot out the building. Visitors must sign in at the box office which is located in the main lobby. We expect every student to try their best here at the School of the Arts. X-Axis grids are all over the math rooms and everything your child needs to know is taught in the school. Zebra colors are on all the sport uniforms representing the best school in the city, School Of The Arts!

Whitney said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
luvshay_shay said...

Shayla Sanders


In this lonely place,
No one to hold,
No one to talk to,
No laughs,
No cries,
No sounds,
What kind of place is this?
No colors,
Black and white,
Not even,
Only gray,
Dull,
Plain,
This can’t be real!
Where is everybody?
This is not the world I know,
It must be my soul,
Empty

Kennethea said...

__Lies__

Because you lied to me
Your words mean nothing.
You said,
He said,
She said,
Became the he said,
She said,
I said,
You said.
Because you lied to me
All i hear you say is lies.
Your eyes are full with your "truth",
Black, empty and cold.

Whitney said...

Whitney Lora
October 17, 2008
Gamzon

ABC Poem

An overworked mother cooks over a hot stove.
Bringing the food to her lazy husband.
Cursing under her breath.
Dropping a dish carelessly on the floor.
Eating hurridely her food.
Finding time to think about her day.
Going to sleep finally.
Holding her head in her hand.
Indulging herself in the taste of alcohol.
Justifying her actions
Kissing her kids good night
Lowering her standards
Messing with her new lover
Never looking back at her life
Opening new wounds
Pessimistic about the future
Questioning what she knows is right
Rasing the tension in her bed
Suddenly thinking suicide
Takes a breathy and jumps
Understanding she needs to recover
Veryfing what she has left
Wanting to turn back time
Xrays inside her body
Yelling in the kitchen at her husband
Zippering up her coat.