...Once Was A Goddess

Every year I tell my class of the day that I was a goddess...  

Writing, like food, can be bland when it's not seasoned correctly.  And by seasoned I mean embellished. When telling my students, as I do every year, that creating a "mind movie" is of the utmost importance when writing, they usually give me the, "Oh, this shtick again" look and attempt to tune me out.  Attempt to tune me out.  That's when I tell them my tall tale... of when I was a goddess... almost.

One day my family and I were at the beach. The sand was warm and crunched softly beneath my bare feet as I trudged along the shoreline. The rich blue sky was speckled with light fluffy clouds that offered an occasional reprieve from the summer sun, with sporadic moments of shade.

As my husband and daughters searched for shells nearby, I stared blissfully into the shallow waters that lapped at my toes.  And that's when I saw it. 

A crab.  A big crab.  Nay, a hulking crustacean.  This crab was on 'roids and he was "swole".

I crouched over the crab.  Like the clouds above me, I offered the sand-colored crustacean a spot of shade and then, with lightning speed, and the grace of a dancer, I scooped the unsuspecting crab into my right hand.  Water droplets glistened on the crab's exoskeleton, dripping in rivulets down my victorious arm.  My face beamed and I slowly pivoted around, staring out at the few people around me.  My eyes searched for my children as I bellowed, "I've caught a crab! I've caught a crab!" My daughters' eyes found my own and in that moment I felt like a superhero!  I could see that they were impressed by my prowess.  

And it was in that moment that I made my mistake.  An egregious mistake.  

Without thought, I decided I would move the aloft crab to my left hand.  It was at that moment that the crab saw his chance.  As my left hand reached, his pincer opened... and suddenly he was holding me.  

I screamed out in pain as the crab sank its pincer into my thumb nail.  Blood began dripping into the water. Small droplets of deep red quickly dissolved into the salty water.  I shook my hand and pleaded with the crab.  My embarrassment was on hold (as the once impressed onlookers were now shaking their heads) as a pain induced tear slid down my cheek.  The crab, satisfied with my suffering, released me from his grip and scurried through the water to tell his own tale.

As I surveyed the hole in my thumbnail I heard someone yell, "LOOK!"  Out in the water were several dark shapes cruising slowly off the shoreline.  I became horror-struck as I considered by injured thumb and the copious amounts of blood I'd released into the water.  I stood frozen, thigh-deep in blood-tinged salt water.

And then, I dove into the waves and began swimming toward the ominous dark shapes.  

Three Manatee drifted peacefully along the shoreline and kindly obliged me for a few moments of companionship... and a parting touch.

As I marched up onto the soft, warm sand I looked upon my daughters and said, "I just swam with Manatees!"  My daughters looked at me as if I were super human.  I was a women that caught enormous, armor clad beasts with one hand.  I was a woman that risked shark-infested water to swim with mermaids.  I was a goddess in that moment.

As we left that day, we walked across the worn wood planks of the beach walkway.  The rough texture of the sun-bleached wood felt oddly nice on my pruned toes.  Near the end of the walk  I saw the sign:  Do not touch the Manatee.

...Almost!

POETRY PERSISTS in PLENTIFUL PECKS

The Cheap Cheese by OB

The cheap cheese cries out
PLEASE BUY ME
I'm gonna rot out!

I don't want to grow
in dumpsters of shame.
I want a happy family
So please
Someone
Please buy me.


Underdog by HK

Knights in shining, gleaming armor
Is what my darling craves
Riding on a rickety horse
Living with the people that force
And show us how we behave

Underdog, Underdog is what she cries
Bashing through the living dyes
The blade goes through his wealthy armor,
Big eyes staring at the once-before farmer,
The crows start to peck at his carcass,
As my darling's love leaves before us.


Track by AL

Jumping over the hurdles,
running the 800 meter dash.

Run as fast as a cheetah,
so you won't come in last.

When you do the hurdles,
jump like your on a trampoline.

If you do these you'll be
the very best on the team.

Girl With A Fishbowl

 Art by AZ

Students were asked to write a story about a girl with a fishbowl on her head... let the creative juices flow!
 

 Here's the Thing About Sarah Prewett

Here's the thing about Sarah Prewett; she is fish crazy.  She loved fish like an American teenager likes a double decker triple bacon cheeseburger with cheesy jumbo fries and an extra large Oreo and cookie dough, chocolate milkshake. 

She had hundreds of books on fish.  She had wanted a fish for the past three years.  The problem was Sarah didn't have the best track record with pets.  Her lizard was eaten by a hawk when Sarah let it sun itself outside.  Her dog was run over by a car when she let go of its leash to hail down the ice cream man.  And her bunny, well, let's just say they found what was stinking up the vents all summer. 

She begged and cried for a fish but her parents kept on saying no.  They even threatened to ground her if she asked again, but she still went along asking.  Every day on her way home from school she would stop at the local pet shop to gaze at the fish as they swam around in their tanks.  One day as Sarah was gazing at the fish the shopkeeper, an old feeble lady, walked out from behind the counter and began shaking a clear mixture into all of the tanks. 
"What's that," Sarah asked inquisitively. 
"This," the old lady said, "is my own patented fish food.  It keeps the fish full, but also as healthy as they can be.  Just don't touch the water because the food isn't meant for humans."  She cackled. 

When Sarah left she thought about fish as usual and then made a risky decision;  she would steal a bowl of goldfish and for good measure the shopkeeper's strange fish food.  The next day, quiet as a mouse, Sarah snuck into the pet store.  She winced as the bell rang over the door, but no one came out of the back. 

When she looked over the counter she saw the old shopkeeper sleeping on her rocker.  Like a ninja, Sarah stood on her tiptoes and pulled down the goldfish bowl.  Suddenly, behind her, she heard the cry, "Stop! Thief!"  In surprise Sarah threw the bowl in the air and with a mighty cur thump the bowl fell back down onto her head.  Instantly she felt as if she was being impaled with nails.  She couldn't see it, but her skin was turning the color of an orange and tiny scales were coming out of her body.  And my oh my, she was shrinking.  Fins were coming out of her body and within seconds she was no more than a goldfish swimming in circles. 

The frail old shopkeeper went to the front of the store and said to herself, "They never listen, never," as she put out a sign saying: GOLDFISH HALF OFF. 

And if you ever go to that pet shop and look at the goldfish... you might find one saying, "Help me!" in Morse Code using its bubbles.

                                                                                                        -LB

A Strange, Short Story... Sorta

When she woke up, it was like a lucid dream.  Her vision was blurred, ever single sound was muffled.  It felt like a vision.  her short, wispy black hair floated around her... until a large orange fish swam right through her small field of vision.  She was startled, and realized that she was inside of her own fishbowl; well, at least her head was.

"This couldn't be real," she thought as she noticed that she somehow wasn't drowning.  It was pretty nice, just floating around with all of her pet fish until a thought occurred to her: How was she going to get out?  She began pulling at the fishbowl on her head; the fish retreated back in fear.  Her vision began closing in as she felt herself losing her grip on life.  Everything went dark and she felt herself falling.  The light was eventually restored, but the thing was... When she woke up, it was like a lucid dream. 

                                                                                                                    - AZ


                                                                                                                                                            

Students envisioned themselves glass artisans...

The color is black and orange.

The texture is smooth and hard.

Four legs, two big eyes,

and made of molded glass.

In the beginning it was nothing.

Now it is a small glass tiger.   

by JK

 

 

 

I was twisting and turning the big stick.

It was jumping out of the water

Blue and purple from the sun setting.

Halfway sleeping.

A dolphin it is.

 

Swimming very fast

Blue and jumping

From the water,

Water coming out.

 

by KP


Hot molten glass.
Still cooling in the light.
So smooth and wondrous.

Color as bright as neon.
The wondrous color filling the star.
The Star Fish.
So carefully designed.
As big as your hand.

by SC

 

 

 

A Dragon Story

Students were shown a picture of a very tiny dragon and asked to create a story around said image...


Drag

I breathlessly stumbled up the wizard's tower, tripping ever now and then.  If this map that I found fiver years ago would help me, then I was all in.  Finally, I reached the top of the never ending tower, and smacked my hand on the wall before knocking.  I knocked - and knocked - and knocked.  NO answer.  I slowly creaked open the door, observing the little cottage.  Little bottles of glowing slime lit up the cottage with an eerie glow.  I quickly scanned the small house for what I was looking for: A healing spell.  Suddenly, the door smacked open.  Another man stepped in.  A blue robed figure set his equipment aside, and carefully unraveled his identity.  "Frederick!" he bellowed, voice echoing trough the cabin.  "Thank goodness I found you!  I need to give you something, sit down."  I sat down on the rickety chair and waited.


A moment later, the wizard emerged with something in his hand.  It was a pocket sized, living, breathing thing.  "Dang it", I thought, "not a heal spell."  But he uncovered something else.  Something better.

I gasped at the tiny dragon placed in the wizard's wrinkly hands.  "Take this." He said.  I gleefully took the dragon into my palm.  Every now and then he blew a puff of smoke in his sleep.  "Now hurry home before the storm gets up again, because if he does, he will grow humongous and destroy cities.  Understand?"  Gleefully, I placed the small creature into my pocket carefully protecting him from the rain. 

I hurried home to my orphanage.  Well, kind of an orphanage.  My "house" was an abandoned shed, and I lived with 5 other people.  This kid/adult/teenager was really mean to me and I despised him.  As I approached my "house", I heard rustling inside.  When I opened the door, Stephan, the leader (the guy I hate) was searching for something.  "What's up?" I asked.  Stephan looked at me as if I were crazy.  "Oh great, the freak is home."  The younger kids scurried over to greet me. 


Picture: thedragonsliveon.webs.com
Artist: Janolie Hoek 

"Oh you really are the pits", I said. 
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."  I sat down in the rickety chair in the living room, exhausted from all of the adventure.  "Got any food," Stephan questioned.  I reached into my pocket and felt the tiny dragon scales.  I suddenly realized that I should NEVER, under any circumstance, show them my dragon.
"You idiot!" He suddenly screamed.  The younger kids bolted from the scene.  Stephan pulled out a sharp knife.  "what is with you?"  I choked.  I felt a hot trickle of blood down my neck.  Instantly John, a younger boy, chucked a baseball at Stephan's side. "Run!" He shrieked.  Stephan cursed and tried to grab by legs, but I was faster.  I screeched out of the shed, holding my pocket safely...

End Chapter One

                                                                                                                              By N.Z.

The Golden Wish by Leila

Painting: Mistaken Identity by Ken Wong

Mary McCoy was living in deep, painful despair for several years after her father's passing.  But after her mother passed, about a year ago, she honestly had no one.  The only thing Mary had was a prodigious estate that her parents once owned and, of course, a butler.

It was a fresh spring day and you could hear birds chirping.  The warm sun was pouring into Mary's room giving her white bedding a bright yellowish color.  But the instant Mary awoke and saw the sun and heard the birds, she summoned the butler to close the blinds and shut out the happiness.  
"Go fix me breakfast, Wilkins," Mary demanded.
"Yes, Miss McCoy," and he turned and walked away.
Mary dressed and tiptoed, elegantly, down the stairs to eat breakfast.
"What's this," Mary asked.
"Those are beloved fish," Wilkins said.
"They're beautiful," Mary said.
"They are for you."
Mary said "thanks" and ran upstairs.
"But you must not take them outside of the house!" 
I'll show him, thought Mary.  
In fact, Mary was spiteful that she stuck the bowl on her head.  "Take that, Wilkins," said Mary in a low whisper.  And she walked downstairs, proud of her dreadful work.
"Oh!  Miss McCoy," exclaimed Wilkins.  
"Too bad," said Mary.

Years and years went by and Mary's head was far too big to take the fish bowl off.  Each and every day Wilkins would let mary do a back bend so he could pour water into the bowl.  Just enough that she could breathe and the fish could, too.  Being in the presence of the fish eased the ache of being an orphan.

Now that Mary had friends, she talked often to Wilkins.  She talked about her parents.  I wish I could just see them again, thought Mary. Then one day she asked Wilkins about how her parents died.  
"I'd better not tell you, Miss McCoy."
Mary shook it off and carried on with her days.  After years and years, Mary seemed to be getting smaller and her skin was turning a bright sun-kissed orange.  
"What's happening to me," shouted Mary.  Sir Wilkins said nothing.  
Weeks passed.  Years passed.
Mary was now in her early twenties.  She was no more than four feet tall.  By her twenty fifth birthday she was about two feet tall.  She'd been to all the town's doctors.  And yet there was no diagnosis.  It was hopeless.

By the time Mary McCoy was thirty, she had endured a horrible transformation.  She resembled nothing more than a worthless goldfish.  And for the first time, in a long time, Mary was desperate.  Suddenly, Mary found herself choking... on air.

Wilkins quickly turned the bowl over so that Mary was in the water.  When she opened her eyes she was surrounded by the goldfish.

Mary ended up with her parents after all.  Even though they weren't human any longer, she still got her golden wish... to see them again.

Wilkins ended up with the estate.  Everything was perfect.

The Weekend by Chris

FIVE painful days then
fun times come.
You can sleep in or
play at the park.
But it eventually ends,
it's a short weekend.


Birthday by Jaiden

I wake up excited, waiting for presents
fun and games, with nothing lame
my friends all around, feeling happy and warm
I am glad there is not a storm
I can go outside and bathe all day 
in my non-chilly chillin' swimming pool
Eating cake with Stampy and friends
Oh look!  Presents!  A new phone, a new me!


Dragons by Kaya

They rule skies
in a mystic plain.
Thought to be fake,
but imagined real.
Breathe out scorching fire,
and puff ashy smoke.
They roam free,
in a land where dragons exist.


Minecraft by Brian

Mining gold and minerals
building houses the size of the ocean,
brewing and making potions.

Fighting exploding creepers,
surviving from the angry dead,
getting tired and going to bed.

Students watched a short animated film about a boy visiting a moon and the subsequent adventures that one has when visiting the unknown.  My amazing writers were asked to respond to the film by creating their own "moon" landing.

Blue Moon

There once was a girl who felt she didn't belong.  For no one cared about her.  She felt she was a speck in the air with everybody swooshing her away.  She had long, silky, black-as-coffee hair. Her skin was pale as could be.  She had puffy, soft lips that were tulip pink.  Her nose was perfectly shaped; almost like a doll's.  Her beautiful hazel eyes had twinkles in the top right corners and shimmered with the sun's rays touched them.  She wore the same thing every day.  A soft, black tank top that was dark as the empty sky and a short black skirt with overlapping cloth.  Everybody made fun of her for who she was.  But what they mainly teased her about was her obsession with the Blue Moon.  They all thought she was insane for loving this fake "Blue Moon".  The Blue Moon was her life.  She always dreamed of visiting this moon.  She always believed one day she would be the first to land on the "Blue Moon". Her name was Sarah.

Sarah was standing outside, barefoot, on the vibrant green grass; staring out into the blank sky.  "I know the blue moon's out there somewhere."  A single tear drop slid down the side of her cheek.  So go to the Blue Moon.  Spread out your arms as if your gaining powers.  Take me to the Blue Moon.  Let my imagination run wild.  Erase all the disappointments and let me soar to the sky, said a voice in the back of her mind.  

So she did.

She spread her arms out and said what her mind told her.  

Nothing happened.

Another single teardrop rolled down her cheek.  "Take me to the Blue Moon," she yelled.  She looked back and saw her feet lifting off the ground.  She was speechless.  She blasted off into the sky.  her hair went straight down.  She was flying through light, fluffy clouds; leaving holes through the middles of them.  her dazzling hazel eyes looked back behind her and she saw the unique cloudy, blue and green Earth.  Every second she flew faster and faster; blasting past Mars.  She looked ahead of her and saw the asteroid belt.  The home of the Blue Moon.  Millions and trillions of asteroids were surrounding her.  She stopped hastily and turned her head in every direction; searching for the Blue Moon.  

A single sunbeam nearly touched her.  She was very confused that only a single sunbeam reached her.  She moved out of the way, gleaming at the sunbeam.  It was pointing the direction.

She saw a strange blue object.  The Blue Moon.  "Thank you, Sunbeam," she announced as she raced off to the Blue Moon.  She smiled slightly as she got closer and closer.  Another teardrop went down her cheek.  But this wasn't a tear of sadness.  It was a tear of joy.   She finally reached the Blue Moon. 

                                                 ~Written by Jessica