1. Please go over the list of the American Heritage 100 Words High School Students and Their Parents Should Know.
2. Find at least five words that interest you and that you are unfamiliar with.
3. Find the definitions of the words.
4. See if you can use these words in a poem or short story. Post your short stories or poems
5. Last call for Sokol entries!!!! The contest was extended until Friday.
6. Good luck on your midterms. Finish reading Shadow Baby for Monday, Feb. 2
www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/booksellers/press_release/100words/#words
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It was an improper sky
Whose name was Quasar
Which had many languages pressing against its mellow ears
It fell with a certain oddity, and had no respect for the paradigm
And drowned the ignorant tautology of the nay-sayers underneath.
It was the father of revolution!
The grand image of change!
That says, "If the sky can do it, so can we!"
And they chanted their somber chants and raised their crowd-spun flags
Splattered with black, white, and yellow
And the sky crowed quietly, with a carmine colored shiver
And laughed at the utter misinterpretation of its strangeness
It bent inward and fluctuated,
And they responded: "and so the sky does, and so we shall!"
And their crowd-spun flags
Splattered with black, white and yellow
Bent inward and fluctuated and
waved with a shimmering eye towards the sky.
But the sky merely sighed;
It was just bending its sides
Stretching out its kinks
Taking a break
But this was a change in the tautology,
And offered a different objective
For which the people below now thought was obtainable.
But in the wake of its turbulence,
Came winds a hundred miles per hour
That were infuriated by the flags
Speckled with black, white and yellow
The winds grew sharp and honed their precision
While the sky sat bending
Testing its limits
The people shouted below,
"The sky is our savior!"
And waved their flags
In a torrent of pressure,
Of heat and of purpose,
The winds blazed past, razing the arms of the people
And burning their hands
They went, determined, straight towards the sky
They cornered it
And smiled with the tips of their flames
And liked their lips
And the sky cried,
And then limped slightly, with a hint of green in its fabric
They cut through it
And the sky fell, lolloping into heaven
Fitting into place in its permanent afterward
And the people below went back to their graves
And everything as was
Because Quasar was dead.
Xenophobe
Yeoman
Incognito
Kowtow
Jejune
Tim ran away from the yeoman. The petty officer shot at Tim, because he found out that Tim was in incognito, for the murder of thirteen men. All of these men were bakers. The yeoman yelled at Tim, “Stop running away, the Baker’s Dozen Killer!”
Tim kept running, and a car pulled out of an alley. Tim flipped over the car, like a rag doll. Tim lay there, on the ground, unconscious. The driver of the car got out, and checked to see of Tim was okay. The driver got down on his knees, and touched Tim on the forehead with his thumb.
Tim jolted up, and looked at the man. Tim yelled at the Asian looking man, “Don’t do any of that kowtow, ching-chong shit on me!”
The man looked at Tim, and said, “Fine, be a xenophobe. Live in hatred for the rest of your life.”
Tim opened his mouth, and saw the yeoman running past the alley. Tim then looked at the man, and the man grabbed Tim in an usurp manner. Tim tried to struggle, but he felt as if he was paralyzed. The man tried to sit Tim on the ground, but Tim restrained this force.
Tim yelled at the man, “I can’t sit. I have thaasophobia. The fear of sitting.”
The man looked at Tim, smiled, and let go of Tim. The man ran away, and bullets flew by Tim’s ear, leaving a loud ringing in his ear. He collapsed onto the hard ground.
Tim woke up in a hospital. He turned his head, and saw a man lying on the bed next to him. He looked at the man’s legs, randomly, and there wasn’t a leg. Tim started to shout. A nurse came in and asked what was wrong.
Tim yelled, “Get me out of here! I have apotemnophobia! Get me out of here!”
Tim was moved into another room with someone with an amputation. This person was missing his ear.
Shayla Snaders
Vocabulary poem
I lie in my bed,
Lights down low,
Blanket over my head,
I rest my eyes and begin to abjure the things that happened today.
As I become relaxed I begin to feel like I’m at equinox with the world.
I forget fatuous Stephen,
And his supercilious ways.
When I’m in my room I am all I need to worry about.
I am the omnipotent being in my room.
I am now sanguine,
I am sleep.
Evanescently, I release and let go
I feel as an omnipotent leader ready to seize the world
I rule ruthlessly because this is my empire
I expand it until it rules the world
No one against me, everyone on my side
They try to bowdlerize me as if I was a book
The ones who have the confidence to rebel against me are filled with fatuous thoughts
Philosophies that have no importance
I deciduously let go of the outer layers that cover up my plot,
because there is no start or end to something of this magnitude
Diva’s anthem
As I sit here and recapitulate on my past,
I understand nothing but the obvious.
It is I, who has to set aside my superciliousness,
And open my eyes to the feckless.
Not meaning to sound conceited,
But confident.
I let my confidence shine and hold me up,
And even when my self- esteem takes over,
I will think back to the many divas before me,
And plagiarize their tactics,
As I subjugate all the haters that stand before me.
As I sit here in class trying to keeps acumen on the clock waiting to leave school. Today has been so lugubrious. It seems like the day is taking forever. Some of the things that I have to churlish with is not cool. These people over here are so feckless and it is getting me mad. I feel like I am oxidizing while I am sitting here waiting for school to be finished. Finally I am about to leave class and I will only have five more classes left.
Enervate-lacking physical,mental, moral vigor
Tempestous- Relates to violent storm
Loquacious-talking too much and freely
Xenophobe- THe fear of somone or something that is foreign
Yeoman- officer in royal house
You may ask how he came to be
This man who
With his enervate manner
A yeoman of infinite respect
But as he now believes
When at the top
There is only one way to go
This once bright
Loquacious man
Now wastes away
Frever silent in the dark
It was tempestous night
That whisked his family away
Dragging into the depths of the Cld death
This now Xenophic man only leaves His darkness
Into the light
To beg for
To take the little bits of light and happiness that we have
Enough to live on
But not enough to satisfy
In a few years to come
He may just rot
Or he may realize
once you're at the bottom
There is only one way to go
enfranchise~to set free(as from slavery)
filibuster~an irregular military adventurer
nanotechnology~the art of munipulating materials on an atomic
plagiarize~to steal and pass of(the ideas or words of another)
soliloguy~thae act of talking to oneself
tempestous~relating to tempest,turbelent
From the enfranchise of the crowd banging to be let in but no responds came the was a lot of soliloquy it has made a melody for the lyrics of my song and also there was more and more of loquacious just little too much. My sweat has been dripping because of the usurp. we also have been having technical difficulty such as it being thermodynamics,and so the yeo man has came are way because we have been stealing boxes.
Churlish, he abjures
while the media expurgates
his brainless lies.
The T.V. makes clear:
"the nation is experiencing pecuniary difficulties."
But they forget to mention
it’s the hubris
that tells our world's leaders,
they can get away with anything.
He demands his demands are
incontrovertible
and the public
is wrought with despair.
A vortex of cortuption
consumes the so called
democracy we have set up.
_________Enervated Mind
Your churlish mouth,
Blacker than the pit of
The Devil's soul;
Notarized as not being your own,
But theirs.
Can you not speak your own mind?
Or is it enervated by the thoughts of Sinners,
Haters,
Atheian individuals?
Speak a clear mind,
Think a pure,
Never become enervated even more.
Enervated minds don't go far,
but once you reach a state of nirvana you'll reach distances that you've never reached before.
Sierra shuffled along dragging her feet on the side walk. The grey sky weighed down on her. She glanced up from of her novel and spied a torn poster hanging off the wall asked for volunteers to “to help clean up the city. She kicked a crushed can in to the street. Apparently the clean-up effort had not gone well.
She put the rather jejune book away. It was the same plot that had been put through the wringer so many times the author should be put away for plagiarism.
The man on the other side of the street looked up and bellowed some churlish remark. She didn’t even here it, not that she would have reacted, the man was harmless. She was far too busy soliloquizing about the current state of the world inside her head.
“The state of this nation has fallen so far, it would not be a stretch to call it an oligarchy, power in the hands of a few wealthy upper-crust citizens. Perhaps this ‘change’ everyone is talking about will come. It had better be a change for the better.
She walked up to the door of her house and turned the key. The ostracized ex-mayor sat on her couch. He looked up at her with weary eyes.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” she muttered under her breath. She plastered a smile on her face and acted as she knew she should.
“Hello daddy, did you have a good day.”
The man, from whom she had learned all of her political knowledge, mostly from his failure, nodded absentmindedly. He said nothing.
She had gotten good to acting, even though she felt nothing in side her, like her father in the prime of his career. Like father, like daughter.
Jejune
Churlish
Soliloquy
plagerize
oligarchy
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