Archive for the ‘2008’ Category


Posted: February 20, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

“He did it because he was angry.” I had if he had the pressure too, the pressure to exceed their high expectations. I scream because I am angry, though my screams do not breech the limits of my mind. Limits. Yes, I have limits. Everyone does. Can’t my admittance of failure be enough? Enough. No, I’m never enough. The pressure keeps building within me, without me. One day, the two will meet and there will be nothing left of me. Nothing. Such a negative word. Well, it is in most cases, but right now, nothing is better than anything. Right now. What am I thinking right now? Do you know? Do I? Probably not. I try not to most of the time. Time. They say time is of the essence. Why? Is time everything? I don’t know. Does anyone? “He did it because he was angry.” I wonder if he had the pressure too, the pressure to exceed their high expectations.

Ontz Ontz Ontz

Posted: February 20, 2008 by lcbelcher in Lindsey

Ontz Ontz Ontz

I see them enter, and yet, I don’t.

Ontz Ontz Ontz

I see them trying to gather my attention, and yet, I don’t.

Ontz Ontz Ontz

I see their mouths moving, and yet, I hear no words.

Ontz Ontz Ontz

Shaking me now.

Their touch on my shoulder, my attention slipping from that blissful

Ontz Ontz Ontz

It’s just me, the pencil, and the paper

Posted: February 20, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

It’s just me, the pencil, and the paper

The television may play

My brother may be talking

in endless sentences to me.

My cat may jump up on my lap

But I don’t pay them any mind

My drawing is almost finished

No movements to distract me

No annoying sounds to catch my attention

Nothing could pull me away

from this work I’m creating

It’s just me, the pencil, and the paper

A few more scratches with my pencil

Just one last smudge of the eraser

A simple flick of the wrist

Watching the graphite glide along the paper

Beauty in one of its simplest forms.

Just me, my music, and my trumpet

Posted: February 20, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

It’s just me, my music, and my trumpet
The people my tap on my door
Or yell to catch my attention
but I don’t hear a sound
The music flows through me
I close my eyes
My cares and daily stresses
lines, rhythms, notes
they flow from the bell of my horn
they encompass my soul, my mind
nothing else matters
not the research project due in may
not the present I’ve yet to buy for my brother
as this song plays
I am free
it’s just me, my music, and my trumpet

Getting in the Zone

Posted: February 20, 2008 by Autumn in Autumn

There are several things that really put me “in the zone,” so to speak. For example, I really enjoy taking pictures. I’m very prone to snapping a billion and two shots, but deleting all except the two. I also really get into reading and writing. When I read a particularly captivating book, it sets ablaze the most wonderful feeling. It’s a form of passive escapism– something we all need in our lives sometimes.

When I start writing a blog entry, I can go on and on for paragraphs and pages about things that seem unbearably, devestatingly important at the time of posting, but feel they make me feel a little silly when I examine them later, which is why I force myself to adhere to one simple, easy little rule: I won’t delete anything I post. Unlike all of those poor pictures I’ve erased, I refuse to eradicate my life of the emotional moments that define my teenage years.

So much to do, so little time-

Posted: February 16, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia


i can’t fine the derivative of this

poem because of the

tailgating driver behind me running

away from senior projects who

are so intimidating it is unreal i think

i’m going to hide from this lab report

who is telling me that speciation can

result from geographic isolation that

color wheel that’s driving me crazy

primary, secondary, tertiary colors

spinning so fast in a clockwise motion that

even president Bush would be afraid and

veto that bill but Congress would just

hold a filibuster so it’d pass anyway

two-thirds majority vote would send me

scampering home to provide sustenance to the fish and

cats who always seem to be hungry

do my homework i must watch some

television the couch is just comfy enough that

i fall asleep watching Dr. Phil

…man, what a day.

Total Randomization

Posted: February 16, 2008 by porter08 in Aaron

 yoda.gif YODA image by mcqueen231

 Once upon a donkey the cat was a seeing bee. When I said no, I meant no young sir. The elephant is a potatoe. Well I went to the house of Tickle Me Elmo because there was no crutons. Well, well, well. Oops I did it again. Cheese soda fork on a poppy seed bun apart of the sea in America, but has no hair on the feet of the new SUV when she said no to 4+4=92 1/2* infinite. Why is blue green and green purple and my favorite smell ice? Because the body is in the can of tomato when it is shut wide open. Do you understand this? If you do, then your level of stuff is way deeper than the pebble stuck under your door knob. Ha Ha…Feez Dibbles in a big huge pan of grease!!!!!

Karate: To Do List

Posted: February 6, 2008 by porter08 in Aaron


  •  Defeat the ninjas
  • Roundhouse kick Chuck Norris in the face
  • Practise my kung fu dance fighting skills
  • Hit the punching bag
  • Protect the Pope
  • Break boards
  • Break bricks
  • Teach at shaolin temple
  • Kill Bill
  • Tame the crouching tiger
  • And find that hidden dragon

When you’re done…

  • Go to school
  • Go to church
  • And take out the garbage

Rose Petals and Ripples

Posted: February 6, 2008 by porter08 in Aaron

 Sorry about the length of this entry, but please bear with me on this one…I believe it is well worth the thought. 


“Someone once compared writing a poem and hoping it will change the world to dropping rose petals down a deep well, waiting to hear the splash.” I can remember living in Florida, when in the evening at sunset, there was a certain time when for a short session, the breeze would stop and there would be absolute calm and silence. The lake in my back yard would become like a mirror, and would seem like the sky and the waters were one. I remember picking up one stone and throwing it as far as I could into the lake. I remember hearing that gentle splash, and watching the ripples radiate as far as one could see in all directions. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, the impact that one person could make in this world is like this pebble in the lake.”  The words that someone could say or write can cause ripples. Even just saying hello to someone could send shockwaves through their lives and make all the difference in their world, and in turn; our world. Contemplate the fact that these ripples never stay still, these waves are always on the move, spreading further and further out. Believe it or not, we all make ripples in our life time. We all make a difference to someone we come in contact with. Some good…and some bad, but I digress. Just remember that these ripples are always on the move, constantly moving out, and the ripples we make here will further effect someone else in the future. So be careful of the stones you throw. This leads me to my next thought. The author states “Someone once compared writing a poem and hoping it will change the world to dropping rose petals down a deep well, waiting for the splash.” Notice that the author never says that it doesn’t make a splash! In my mind, I see this as a positive thing. Though we may wait an entire lifetime to hear and see the splash, it may not happen. Our words and deeds may get lost in that deep descent through time, but eventually, it will hit it’s target…and cause the splash. Though we may not be around to witness it, we need to be careful…because inevitably… future generations will.

My work is never finished…

Posted: February 6, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

My work is never finished. I write until no more words come to mind. I scribble numbers for hours on end, but still my work is never finished. My thoughts still race. My mind still aches. My dreams spill out into the night because there’s no more empty space inside my head. I write volumes of words that go nowhere. I have pages of numbers that mean nothing except to me. But still my work is never finished. My thoughts are ever busy and my mind is in a constant state of motion. Sleep? Not for me. My mind just gains momentum is the hours i lay tossing and turning, thinking of new formulas, equations and designs of things i know are impossible but endeavors i will enbark upon tomorrow. My words fade on old paper. My ideas are lost but for my memory. But still my work is never finished, and, in truth, I hope it never is. I hope that my mind keeps creating and my thoughts keep racing and my dreams shoot ever-higher. I hope my work is never finished.

Once in a Lifetime…

Posted: February 5, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia


It’s a time of fun, learning, and new experiences.

A time of joy, laughter, and hanging out with friends.

It’s a time where you’re learning to make it on your own.

Plan for your future ahead.

And tie close bonds with your family and friends.

So you’ll know someone’s always got your back.

It’s a time of stress, work, and little sleep.

A time of homework, chores, and jam-packed weekends.

Making the most of your free time.

And savoring the feeling of home.

Because soon, sooner than you think.

You’ll be out on your own.

But don’t let that scare you.

Your relatives and loved ones are only a phone call away.

And they’ll be waiting for your return someday.

Live it up, when you get the chance.

Don’t take it for granted.

Because it only comes.

Once in a lifetime.

Oil and Blood

Posted: February 5, 2008 by vmkimler in Virginia

You were there

On your bike,


Watching your father work

Under the hood

Of a dark-blue mini-van.

You watched him wipe

                Sweat from his brow.

You watched him smear

                Oil on his face.

You gasped when

You saw the wrench slip.

A large cut opened

On his hand.

You felt proud when

He didn’t even flinch,

And he wiped the blood away

                With an old, dirty rag

From his back pocket.


You were amazed

By his strength and determination.

And so

You continued to watch,

And he

Continued to work.


Here you are

A young adult

And you work

Carrying bricks for your mother

So she can place them around the flowers.

And you trip

Landing flat on your belly

Scuffing your palms

And cutting your knee.

You don’t flinch

You wipe the blood away

And rise again.

                You feel him

In your muscles

                In your bones

Giving you the strength to go on.


You’re working together

And it shall continue that way,


Recipe for Heartache

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

One boy with a wandering eye
One girl with the softest heart
One galaxy full of opposition
Several nights spent alone
Five years of one-sided love

Place one boy with a wandering eye in a sauce pan with one girl with the softest heart
Turn up heat until steaming
Quickly pour in one galaxy of opposition until boy and girl begin to part
Add in several nights spent alone
Simmer until girl begins to crumble
Mix in five years of one-sided love and let stand until cold

6:30 p.m.

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

Sunset is
A swing

The hills are ablaze with autumn orange
The crisp scent of fresh leaves and apples is carried on a chilly breeze
I take in the sweet air as i glide back and forth
The light from the setting sun is gentle and warm on my face
All is calm within me and without
The one time, the one place I am truly at ease

An ant crawls along the white swing’s back
My dog stirs silently in reverence to the beauty
Golden rays dance upon freshly fallen leaves
Brushstroke clouds like rosy delight drift sluggishly by

October has arrived with the gift of autumn sunsets
My favorite place to be.

I am from

Posted: February 5, 2008 by kaci333 in Kaci

I am from grandparents who live to protect
from fast cars and starry summer nights
from love in October and heartbreak in May

I am from three houses with only one home
from estranged parents and new ones who love
from a crazy younger brother I’d give my life for
from late nights awake thinking in circles

I am from fried chicken on Sunday afternoons
and Grandfather’s comforting mashed potatoes
from stubborn old men and God-loving old women
from ups and downs and all-arounds
from huge green recliners and teddy bears galore

I am from this message will self-destruct
from Porkchop and Patty Mayonaise
from The Sandlot and ruby red slippers
from Saturday morning carttons with my dad

I am from red hair and green eyes
from drinking songs and intoxicated tales
from the pub to the spuds
from emerald hills of home

I am from family, so big and bright