bird baths » This

Is this a good start for a story?? Easy ten points, just tell me what you think!?

Thu, 05 May 2011 04:56:57 +0000

I have to turn in a short story to a writer. Is this a good piece? Please, any critism is greatly appreciated.

The twigs snapped against my heels. The wind howled and Janie turned against it, in defeat.
“I wanna go home.” Her lips turned in a quivering scowl, but her words blew away with the wind. I swallowed, and it hurt like swallowing knifes.
“We will.” I whispered, even though that couldn’t possibly be true. Janie turned away from me, and kept walking. Leaves squished under her soggy Converse sneakers and her knees buckled together to keep herself warm.
Out of the corner of my eye, a blinding white light hit my peripheral vision. I winced. It was a flashlight.
“Janie? Tracey? Dave? Call out if you can hear me! Call!” I heard a saddened voice, that sounded like Maria’s.
Janie started to scream out in response, but Dave covered her mouth with his dirty hand. Janie squirmed, struggling to be released from Dave’s grasp.
“Shh!” Dave hushed.
“Janie? Tracey? Dave? Call out if you can hear me!” Maria’s voice sounded more distant now. Tears blinded my eyes. Chance. The chance to go home, and we couldn’t have it.
We stood still, listening to Maria’s cries, until we couldn’t hear them anymore at all.
Janie hit the ground and began to howl. Again, Dave covered her mouth. Janie wailed, her sobs cut off from the rest of the world.
I sat down in the wet soil. I felt the earth, and I plunged my hands into it, looking at the color of the sky, which matched the concrete back in the city.
“Home.” I whispered.
ONE MONTH EARLIER
I didn’t understand how the sun could still shine. How the birds could still sing. How the day could go by, despite all the things that had happened.
I looked out my window. Janie and Maria were dancing on the dew covered grass, the sprinkler flying madly around.
I didn’t understand how summer could still be summer. How Janie and Maria could dance in the grass.
How could anything, ever be the same?
My heart ached, like a scar still healing.
I sat still in my bedroom, missing my brother Dave more than ever.
Why did they have to take him away? He was fine, just where he was. He wasn’t getting in too much trouble at the new school.
Mom said that Dave was different than most kids, and needed special attention.
How was Dave different? That’s what I wanted to know.
“Tracey! Will you come out and play with us?” I heard Janie’s voice from downstairs.
“Maybe in a little while.” I yelled back. I heard the front door creak open, and slam shut. When I looked out my window, Maria and Janie were still playing.
I looked at the photograph sitting on my desk. It’s a picture of our whole family last summer. Mom is standing in the middle, because she’s shorter than everyone except for Janie and me. Janie is on one side of her striking a pose, and I’m on her other side, smiling shyly. Shannon is just above Mom (since, although she’s the oldest, is even shorter than Mom) and smiling big. Shannon, Mom, and Janie are alike in that respect. They’re always so….happy and jolly. Maria is on Shannon’s left, her hair pulled into two tight braids. Maria is more like Dave and I, more shy and quiet. Dave is on Shannon’s other side, not smiling at all.
While other people seemed to think that it was odd that Dave didn’t smile, I thought it was just a boy thing.
And then Dad.
He’s almost as tall as the trees surrounding in the background. He smiles a thin-lipped smile, his big hands firmly placed on Shannon’s shoulders.
My heart itched for Dad. He had to go away with Dave.
Mom accused me of being a martyer about the whole thing. She was constantly telling me that, ‘everyone misses Dad and Dave, not just you. It’s not all about you, Tracey.’
I didn’t understand. It wasn’t about me. I KNOW Dave didn’t want to leave, and I’m sure Dad didn’t either.
I always tried to squeeze the real reason of why Dad and Dave left out of Mom, but she never told me.
It had been almost a month now.
The world had moved on, and left me sitting alone in my bedroom. The world was done feeling sorry.
But I wasn’t.
I wasn’t really asking for editing, like puncuation….

What do you think of this poem written in Robert Frost’s style.?

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 04:56:42 +0000

I once played in halcyon fields
where the purple heather grew,
where the roe and hare were common,
where serephic birds flew.

I remember the sunshine on my face
and gentle zephyrs wandered,
long I laid on emerald grass,
my childish dreams I pondered.

O, I long for yesteryears when
I ran so bright and free.
I long to pick the heather there
and lie in the shade of a tree.

Here, I sit in the city
with concrete under my feet.
The wind smells of oil,
newspaper flies down the street.

As I walk toward my home
I feel old and burdened with care
till I spy a tiny flower that fought
through a crack there.

My eyes well up with tears
and I feel just like a sod.
Here is a sign from heaven,
a remember me from God.

Do you like this book?

Thu, 21 Apr 2011 04:54:21 +0000

I’m a 12 year old writer… here is a piece of a book I’m writing… what do you think? What can I change? It’s the beginning only… forgive any spelling mistakes.

Chapter 1
“The opposite of war isn’t peace, it’s creation.”

To my nightmares I must recurr,
Behind the curtain I musn’t look,
Beyond the package the gift is pure,
But the key wont turn.

He crossed the last line, he wasn’t inspired, yet he hadn’t been inspired the whole week. He flipped through the pages of his notebook, he was a writer, but he didn’t feel like one. His notebook was full of poetry and metaphors and beautiful pieces of art, but it wasn’t his. Daniel felt like a cheap copy, a fake image of other writers, not knowing his style, not knowing his place, and the phrases of others authors haunted him, almost forcing him to write what they wrote, forcing him to write their feelings and not his own. Yet, he was in, he was in the Academy, now it was true, it wasn’t a dream anymore, it wasn’t a fantasy. He needed to find his feelings before he got there, he was afraid, but where could he look, not the whole “look in your soul” crap, he didn’t need the place to find his feelings, he needed someone to tell him where to look.

He folded the letter, just to reopen it again, he placed in his pocket, just to take it out again, to reassure it was true, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming like he always was. He was in, yet he never thought he could do it. He was gasoline without a fire, he was snow, so gentle and quiet, yet the sky wants to scream. Jonathan was an actor, a good one they said, people believed in him, but he didn’t believe in himself.

III

Her feet lingered in the water, it was frigid, unpleasant to any human feet, but she needed distraction from her inner pain, cold couldn’t compare. She moved her feet from side to side distracted, engaging the pool in small tide waves, the sound comforted her. Emily was a singer, when she sand even the birds stopped and listened, it was magic in sound, but it seemed like the Acedemy didn’t think so. She was convinced she was gonna be accepted, she felt embarrassed, all the bloathing and confidence, and now nothing. She had everything prepared, even her parents had the money ready, but everything was on stand-by. She kicked the pool hard and got up on the concrete, the relief was instantaneous, but it didn’t last long. She put on some sandals and walked, head down towards the mail-box, for the third time.

IIII

Monique’s heart had her own rhythm, yeah, it was the same song, but her dancing was completely different. She had never thought of herself like everyone else, she had her style, her likes, she went against the current and fought the odds, everyone climbed the mountain, but she, she jumped off the cliff sure of her wings to take flight. She was another tree in the forest, but this tree was closest to the stars. Since she had memory, her body was always moving to a music, wheather classical or hip-hop, most of her life she had spent in a room, dancing. She didn’t hide under lipstick and drank diet soda like all the other girls, she knew a real dancer, was that who didn’t need a grease-less body to look beautiful. Monique’s dancing was real, as real as gum stuck in your shoe, as real as darkness, as real as fear, as real as a cockroach in a parking lot, and as real as passion and love, if dancing wasn’t that itself. Her talent had always been appreciated, and the Academy wasn’t an exception, she was in, she had never doubted it.

IIIII

She stretched her arm to the far-side of her bed, wondering, like she did every night if she would wake up alone. Her life had been a broken promise, not exactly a failure, but a fallen dream, like a killed warrior. She dreaded this day, when letters would be sent home, to talented children, and yet so many others who were just as talented would make a decision that would change the course of their lives forever. They would quit on their passion, they would turn their back on everything they had thought of as their future. She passed her feet through the soft silk of her sheet, hugging her pillow, she once had dreams too.

Snake found on my patio is this normal?

Tue, 19 Apr 2011 05:02:26 +0000

I live in a concrete jungle.. a town house, my back yard is all patio with brick planter boxes its about 15×20 all blocked walls..My indoor cats loves to look out the sliding window at birds. One day a cat was all fixated on something right below the screen door. I looked to see what it was and it was a HUGE LONG SNAKE moving along the screen door base, it was doubled up to half his size moving slowly. I couldn’t see its tail so since it had same type of markings as a rattle snake to a novice I FREAKED!!! I kept still until I saw his tail it didn’t have a rattle on the tail thank GOODNESS! Troubling part is he eyeballed me, I mean he was NOT scared in the least, he kept coming to us. I didn’t go out back for 3 days, I was so scared, big chicken here.. I did looked up snakes and it looked like a gopher snake, are they really that fearless? How the heck did he get here? Since I live in a townhouse only opening is one inch between the house and the block wall from house to house.. I called my neighbor to see if her son lost a snake but she said nope.. This experience is so weird to me how he got here and why he was so fearless…. Any ideas?
concrete jungle as in a city!
Funny thing I have lived here since 1999. Never saw a snake before. I did notice the lizards on my block walls all dissapeared for a month or so. Maybe the snake was following the lizards for food and ended up here? Do they move around to follow food?
West Coast town house

What do you think of this rap?

Fri, 08 Apr 2011 04:58:13 +0000

Yo check yo yo, check the script
Me and the gods get it ripped
Blunts in the dip, forty dogs in my lip
Had a box, ‘Boom Boom’ the bass will blast
We was laughing, at all the girls that passed
Conversation, brothers had begin to discuss
(Hey yo, Ra, remember that kid ya bust?)
Aw yeah, he ran, but he didn’t get far
Cause I dropped him, heh heh heh heh heh HA
Not knowin, exactly what lied ahead
My little brother, my mother sent him out for bread
Get the Wonder, it’s a hot day in the summer
Didn’t expect, to come across, a crazy gunner
“Hey Shorty, check it for the bag and the dough”
But he was brave, looked him in the eye, and said “No!!”
Money splattered him, BOW! then he snatched the bag
In his pockets, then he jetted up the Ave.
Girls screamin, the noise up and down the block
(Hey, Rakeem!) What? (Your little brother got shot!)
I ran frantically, then I dropped down to his feet
I saw the blood, all over, the hot concrete
I picked him up, then I held him by his head
His eyes shut, that’s when I knew he was…
Aw man! How do I say goodbye?
It’s alway the good ones who have to die
Memories in the corner of my mind
Flashbacks, I was laughin all the time
I taught him, all about the bees and birds
But I wish I had a chance to sing these three words

Me and my man, my ace big Moe from the shelter
Bout to hit the skins, from this girl named Thelma
Now Thelma had a rep, that was higher than her neck
Every girl from Shaolin dissed her respect
We was stimmy, you know how it is when you’re blitzed
Three o’clock in the morning, something gots to give
Moe said he’ll go first, I said I’ll take next
Here, take this raincoat, and practice safe sex
He seemed to ignore, I said be for real
She’s not even worth it, to go raw deal
A man’s gonna do what a man’s gonna do
He got butt-naked and stuck the power U
Twenty minutes went by, my man went out, without a doubt
I’m not pumpin’ up, I am, airin out
Hey yo, he came out laughing with glory
I’m surprised, he’s still livin’, to tell his story
But he carried on, with the same old stuff
with Stephanie, like a whammy, he pressed his luck
Both tried to be down with O.P.P.
Ain’t nuttin’ wrong but he got caught with the H.I.V. now
No life to live, doc says two more years
So after the laughter, I guess comes the tears
for whoever doesnt want to read it heres the link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3KEfs70XCI

Do you like this poem of mine?

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 04:57:02 +0000

The darkness is agonizing.
The silence is demeaning.
And I feel vultures eyes.
Looking at me leering.
The gasps and moans of the wind,
Is the only thing I’m hearing.
My footsteps grow quicker now,
Walking along the concrete paths.
Yet I still feel something following me.
Watching me with anger.
Glancing with envy.
And yet I continue walking.
Beyond the shadows of the trees.
The birds have fallen asleep.
And the time begins to flee.
And I know Something’s there.
I can feel the presence.
Of a sinners watchful eye.
And a silent voice calling from the distance.
And the further I go,
The moon rises and glistens.
And I feel all to familiar,
As I reach my destination,
Slow fate creeps away,
A killer from the distance.

I’m not a Professional just a kid who wrote a poem.

Is this short story structurally sound?

Sat, 02 Apr 2011 04:54:20 +0000

Life has only just begun, white lace and promises. So many roads to choose, he started out walking and than learned to run. When the evening comes, he smiles, so much of life to live. Joseph Driscle is a protected child, his mother Kathy loves him dearly and will do anything to keep him out of harms way. She feels she must express her affection towards Joseph, after all being her first and only child. She thinks that she doesn’t mother him nor does she believe she is an overprotective parent. She is like any other parent, who cares for her child and supports him in life. At the age if ten, Joseph is small for his age. He acquired big bright blue eyes from his father, ruffled blind hair and a fair skin tone from his mother. He is always looking around, always exploring. This has been a defining characteristic since he arrived in the world years ago. On a brisk Montréal afternoon, Joseph and his mother set out into the downtown core to gaze at the numerous store windows. Spontaneously, Joseph asked whether he could wander down the street towards the bakery nearby. “As long as you don’t go too far, dear.” Said Kathy. The young boy close to her side, began to gracefully trot down the sidewalk toward the bakery. “Joseph,” She commanded softly. “Don’t be forever.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Joseph disappear behind the corner. The observant Joseph noticed every pixel of life, the birds in the trees, the smell of freshly baked bread and the stench of vehicle exhaust. Across the street, Joseph noticed a man, who had visually come across as a gentle man. He had brown eyes that dove deep into his sockets and a frailed face. He wore a black over coat with dark trousers and shoes. Joseph had always been trusting, especially with adults. He felt as if they always knew what was best. The man approached Joseph with a confident smile and introduced himself as Damian. He asked Joseph if he was interested in owning a dog. Enthusiastically, he said yes. Damian suggested they take a walk together, and the two set forth down the block.
Damian asked, “which kind of puppy would you like?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t know the different types of dogs.” Joseph replied.
“Well not to worry, one more block and we’ll have reached the pet store.” Exclaimed Damian.
After walking another block, there was no pet store in sight.
“I think you were mistaken, there isn’t a pet store here.” Noted Joseph.
“Apparently not, I apologize for taking up your time.” Replied Damian.
Suddenly, as Joseph is walking away, Damian forcefully grabs Joseph by the abdomen. Joseph uses his only weapon at his disposal, his voice. He begins to yell with sheer angst, while Damian struggles to subdue him. Nearby, a woman is walking out of a used book store, she hears the commoton and her mind instantly registers danger. She moves quickly, with long strides, she reaches Damian and the apprehended Joseph. She forcefully strikes Damian with a Gutenberg Bible she purchased and he falls with a thud on the concrete sidewalk. She takes hold of Joseph and transports him to safety inside the used book store across the street.
As calmly as she can, she explains to Joseph that “strangers aren’t appropriate people to talk to, regardless of their gender, race, or age.” “Unless you have permission from your parents to speak to them, ignore them despite any offer that may purpose. Some of them want to hurt young people like you.” Nodding thoughtfully, Joseph with great desires says “please, take me back to my mother.”

My daughter got an E for this?

Fri, 01 Apr 2011 04:57:21 +0000

Home is a strange place. A place where one can hide, lock away troubles into an empty casket of long forgotten cobbles. These walls injest all my secrets, they throw back evrything I throw at them, but with twice the force. The power overcomes me at times and the feelings dispursed into the vacum starvs me of hope, drains away any love I had mistakenly thought was left.
Rough and tumble. The shards of brick puncture my fingers numbly, coating the once peachy bricks with a sinister red, a colour that seeps through the paper thin walls and falls, unguided, into the face of my parents. These shards, this concrete, the rows upon rows of rectangular clones. They escalate higher and higher, my mind swirls as I gaze up. It all creates a perfect nightmare, with only small gaps of transparent glass leaving room for sanity. Outside seems so peacful, so restful, all the birds dance in the sky, singing joyfully and conversing merrily. Swaying trees crumple with the beat, colliding with my heart.
My daughter, age 15, wrote that in response to this question “Describe your house”. I think it’s an excellent answer and certainly does not deserve an E. Is the teacher right? What do you think about the writing? Am I just over reacting?
In the UK, an E is the equivilant of an F in the USA.
In the UK, an E is the equivilant of an F in the USA.

My daughter wrote this?

Wed, 23 Mar 2011 04:54:50 +0000

Home is a strange place. A place where one can hide, lock away troubles into an empty casket of long forgotten cobbles. These walls injest all my secrets, they throw back evrything I throw at them, but with twice the force. The power overcomes me at times and the feelings dispursed into the vacum starvs me of hope, drains away any love I had mistakenly thought was left.
Rough and tumble. The shards of brick puncture my fingers numbly, coating the once peachy bricks with a sinister red, a colour that seeps through the paper thin walls and falls, unguided, into the face of my parents. These shards, this concrete, the rows upon rows of rectangular clones. They escalate higher and higher, my mind swirls as I gaze up. It all creates a perfect nightmare, with only small gaps of transparent glass leaving room for sanity. Outside seems so peacful, so restful, all the birds dance in the sky, singing joyfully and conversing merrily.
Her teacher said it was bad, she got a E for that. More–>
Her teacher said it was terrible and didn’t answer the question which was “Describe your house”. I think what she wrote is great, and beyond her age. She’s 15. She took the question beyond the normal bouondries. What do you think? Do you think she should get a better mark? What do you think of the writing?
That isn’t finished, I just put that too show you how she generally writes.
In England, you can grade E.
She’s in year 11, and predicted A* in English, that’s why I can’t believe it, she normally gts A-A*. That teacher is just such a moron.

What kind of spider makes this web, and how do I remove it?

Wed, 16 Mar 2011 04:55:36 +0000

We live in the mountains on the US east coast. We have a large hole about 12 feet up the inside wall in our not-quite-finished-but-still-occupied indoor aviary. (Yup….indoor…..as in INSIDE my HOUSE.) About 3 days ago we noticed a large, thick, cotton-like spider web disappearing into this hole. The hole goes down into the wall, and is about 6″x6″ at it’s narrowest point. The web has completely filled the hole and extends up almost to the ceiling and out about 18″x18″. It’s about 6-7 inches thick and is too dense to see into except at the very edges. It isn’t a funnel-type web. I’m not sure, but I THINK it’s getting bigger.

I have SEVERE arachnophobia ……..(…..ok….I hear you out there laughing….).

We can’t use poison because of the birds. We know about pyrethrins and DE, and yes, we’re gonna use that when the “thing” is gone, but neither have the knock-down power we’re gonna need for immediate death. We can’t see into the darn thing because the web is so thick. We have to use a ladder to do whatever the heck we have to do, even if we just try to vacuum it out. I have visions about trying this, having a ticked-off Big Mama jump on me, flying off the ladder, breaking my neck on the concrete floor, then having to watch while about a million hungry babies jump on me and eat me alive, at which point I’m a story on “Strange But True”……..Then ALLLLLLLLLLL-L-L-L you guys will say “Hey!!! I heard about that lady!!!!”

I’ve done a LOT about making peace with spiders, including leaving ALL outside spiders alone, re-locating most indoor spiders, and letting a few harmless ones even stay inside. I’m sorry spider-lovers, but whatever the heck is in there has to DIE!!! It CANNOT escape, not only because of my birds, but because my freakin’ bed is just around the corner!!!

Please, please, PLEASE, just as soon as you get out of the floor laughing, can you please help me? I need a totally non-toxic way to get it down while as far away as possible….on a ladder….with one eye open…..and 9-1-1 on speed-dial…………….