Sketching a picture of her.
48 colors I could make her
Orange, blue, pink, red, brown the color of her skin.
Finally, I am done.
I press my right hand on it and hold my left hand in the air looking
for a shadow
Then it comes.
A short girl who in my world would be about 10.
She jumps into me then I get a feeling that washes right through me
and then she’s alive.
She runs down the block and out of sight.
Ben Joy loved his siblings. They were so nice to him and he was the youngest of them. His brother Zach, his 2 sisters Lila and Yasmin. The only thing that he hated was the fact that he was starting school. And today was the first day of school. His brother Zach drove him to school and Ben got prepared for torture.
Two weeks later
Now my prediction is right, third grade is horrible. The worst part is, let me tell you, the substitutes they love to yeeeeeeeeeellllllll.
Everyday this is what happens:
Where is your notebook?
It’s right here.
Where is your work?
It’s right here.
Get out your notebook
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllll
They are so mean. Here is a list of substitutes:
Mrs. B: most annoying.
Mrs. L: most likely to yell.
Mrs. K: she has red hair. Some classmates think she got red hair from getting so mad, her hair went on fire. Me and my friends made our own club called the Sub Society and do wars against subs.
One day, our substitute Mrs. B was really annoying. By that time, we were voting for class president and she kept asking us what we were doing and we said, “We were voting.”
Our teacher, Ms. Abreou, saw us going around to different tables and she asked what we were doing. We were all silent and then suddenly, out of nowhere, Ms. B said that we were voting and we got in trouble for the rest of the day.
A story about Mrs. L: One day, we were surprised that Ms. Abreou wasn’t here and that we had Mrs. L as a substitute. We got into class and started doing our morning work. There was an announcement over the loudspeaker. It said, “All third grade teachers bring your students down to the cafeteria.”
Mrs. L didn’t do anything. We told her what the announcement said, but she kept saying that the announcement said, “All third grade teachers come down to the cafeteria.”
We kept arguing with her, but she still said no. That’s how we didn’t get to eat lunch.
A story about Ms. K:
You know how I said earlier that some of my classmates believe that her hair was red because people believe that when she got so mad, her hair goes on fire. Well, we had her today. She seemed pretty calm. The thing I forgot to tell is that sometimes in class she curses. I was sharpening my pencil and one of my classmates, Xavier, said to me “Jasper! Your pencils are already sharpened!”
The substitute saw him and said, “Shut up and put your hand down!”
Present:
Well, me and the Sub Society, which includes my friends Irving, Victoria, Audrey, and Clara, were all discussing how we were going to make a trap.
“First,” said Irving, “We need to write this all down on a piece of paper.”
So we got started. “We’ll make a trap door inside the classroom floor with a can of hot water underneath. We will tell the sub that we need help and lead her in the direction of the trap door. She will fall inside it, but we still have to be prepared when she gets out, so we will run to the stairs and get heavy cans of metal blocks and put it on top of the stairs. When she comes up the stairs, we will throw down the metal cans, and then it will crash into her. And for the last trap, when she gets to the main part of the school, we will pour a foot of hot water and pour it on her.”
Once upon a time, there was a unicorn and a butterfly. They were friends. One time, they met in the forest and brought cookies with them to the forest. The next day, they went to the forest. There was a little girl who saw them. She rode the unicorn. Her parents said finally we found you. The unicorn and butterfly knew that it was not safe in the secret forest anymore. People knew that the secret garden was there so they moved to a different forest and found more unicorns and butterflies. They all became friends and nobody found the garden.
One time, they ran out of food so they went to go find food. They found mangoes and went home. It took an hour. When they got there, it was hot so they made mango smoothies and went to sleep and had a nice day.
Unicorns are not the only mythical creatures. There are alicorns and pegasus. An alicorn has pegasus wings and a unicorn horn. A pegasus has wings. Butterflies come in different colors and can do different things. The next day, they went to the music shop and got a violin to play in an orchestra. After the orchestra, they went to get chocolate ice cream. Mmmmmmmm that was tasty. They went home and found a new friend named tweet bird. They had a lot of fun together. The end.
I Am Angered
When I Lose
In Fortnite I Threw My Controller Out the window
I Nick Nack patty wack The controller
then pick it up and punch it in the tv
then kick it down the drain
then i was jolly
just a tad bit jolly
then i destroyed every one’s ankle
I’m Just like ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh exposed dddddd !!
BAM! Where’s your ankles?
In the refrigerator
There goes your ankles
THAT’S COLD!
Chapter 1
Swallows are special birds. They build their nests on the sides of old buildings, in the gaps between the roof and the exterior walls. The foundation is made mostly out of little bits of mud. The inside is lined with grass and old feathers. The entire painful process may take months, even whole seasons.
The Thompsons were an ordinary family living in a very, very old house. There was Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, their three children, and Mrs. Thompson’s mother, the kids’ grandmother. Victoria was the oldest child at the age of thirteen. Gregory, who was about to turn eleven, was the perfect example of an aggressive, obnoxious, video-game-obsessed middle child. Then there was Jamie, the youngest, who had just turned nine. Jamie was quiet and thoughtful, and was therefore a big disappointment to Gregory, who had always wanted a rowdy, competitive little brother to play rough with.
The children’s grandmother had lived with the Thompsons for as long as anyone could remember. Her husband had died of cancer right before Victoria was born. She was a strong and energetic woman for her age, and usually the peacemaker of the family.
The older members of the family were glad Jamie hadn’t turned out like Gregory—with two Gregorys in the house, it would be a miracle if the roof didn’t come crashing down on the family.
Mr. Thompson worked in a small town nearby, where the kids also went to school and did their shopping. Their father drove them to school every morning, and their mother picked them up in her car at the end of the day.
It was a regular Tuesday afternoon. Victoria was clothes shopping at the mall with her girlfriends, and Gregory had gone to a classmate’s house to check out their birthday loot, which included the latest Mario Kart and a virtual reality set.
Jamie was the only one going straight home. As usual, he went straight up to his bedroom to do his homework.
Some time passed. He heard the screen door slam, a sure sign that Gregory was home.
There was a faint chirping noise outside. Jamie looked up. It was an old barn swallow gathering mud for its nest. Fascinated, he observed it for a while, then went back to work on his math problems.
The nest was finally ready. It had taken so long.
The female swallow, after careful consideration, had decided to build hers right outside a dusty brick house on the outskirts of a small town near a huge lake. The lake was a perfect water source for making mud pellets. The nest was hidden under the roof directly above a second-story window.
After gathering materials for the final touches, the swallow returned to the nest. Her mate was already there. He was painstakingly lining the edge of the nest with grass and old feathers. He had to be very careful—there were four tiny white speckled eggs sitting in the center, due to hatch in one week.
The female added the last bits of mud to the nest corners. Being careful not to move any of them around, she sat on the eggs. Until they hatched, she wouldn’t be able to leave again. Abandoning the nest for those last ten minutes had been extremely risky.
It was going to be a long week for the two swallows.
Chapter 2 – one week later
The female swallow and her mate silently watched their babies push their way out of their eggs. The nearest one already had its beak sticking out of the shell.
The new parents bent forward to help crack the eggs. It was hard work.
Twenty minutes later, it was done. Four tiny baby swallows were resting in the nest with their eyes closed. They had all survived.
Jamie was doing what he did every afternoon—homework.
He heard cracking sounds and glanced around. Nothing. He looked behind him, in front of him, above him, and even went downstairs to make sure it wasn’t just Gregory breaking something. It wasn’t. He went back upstairs.
More cracking sounds.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sound. Eventually it stopped and he decided he had imagined it.
His mother called him down for dinner—spaghetti and meatballs. Jamie sat across from Victoria, who was staring at her food like it was an alien from another planet, and next to Gregory, who was busy violently stabbing his meatballs for no apparent reason.
“Vicky, eat,” Jamie’s mother prodded.
What’s new? thought Jamie.
Victoria took a deep breath, as if she was about to say something very important, and cleared her throat. “Mom, I’m… I’m going vegan.”
Mrs. Thompson groaned. “I spent so much time on these meatballs. How long will you be doing this?”
“As long as I can..?” Victoria trailed off, seeing the look on her mother’s face.
Jamie’s grandmother spoke up, turning to her daughter. “ Samantha, let Victoria do what she wants to. She’s old enough to know what’s good for herself.”
Victoria gave her grandmother a grateful look.
Mrs. Thompson looked lost for a second. She glanced back and forth between her daughter and her mother. Even Gregory, sensing the tension, had stopped stabbing his meatballs.
“Fine,” Mrs. Thompson relented.
“I’ll eat your meatballs,” Gregory volunteered.
Victoria transferred her meatballs to Gregory’s plate one by one. “As long as you eat them instead of pretending they’re your enemies in a video game, go ahead.”
“Wrong. They’re my opponents on the race car track. You’re allowed to knock out your opponents.”
“Whatever. Same thing.”
“Whaddaya mean same thing?” Gregory stabbed his meatball so hard, Jamie jumped in his seat. “They’re completely different, Vicky!”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me Vicky.”
“Mom does.”
“Well, she shouldn’t either.”
“Stop arguing, you two,” Mrs. Thompson ordered.
“But Moooom, he’s the one being annoying…”
“Yeah, well, I’m allowed to talk about video games, Mom…”
Jamie listened to his siblings bicker uselessly. He wolfed down his food, excused himself, and sat on the sofa to read a book. It wasn’t enjoyable to be the youngest child. In fact, ever since he had started fourth grade, his life seemed to be a cycle of school, homework, eat, sleep, repeat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced anything really exciting. He wanted something interesting to happen for once.
Chapter 3
Two weeks had passed. Being in charge of four baby chicks wasn’t an easy job. The swallow and her mate had to take turns finding food and bringing it back to the nest every half hour.
At the moment, she was staying with the chicks and her mate was looking for food. They had opened their eyes only a few days ago and were now hopping about. The new parents had taken careful precautions to build up the sides of the nest so the chicks wouldn’t walk off the edge.
Suddenly a crash resounded from inside the house and the wall shuddered. The nest lurched sideways. The mother swallow let out an alarmed chirp, followed by her chicks. The world tilted.
Bit by bit, the nest was crumbling away from the exterior wall.
It took some time for the swallow to realize what was happening. In a flurrying panic, the mother swallow flew out of the nest. She had no way to save her chicks. She let out one more distressed chirp.
The nest, her beautiful nest that she had worked so hard on, broke apart from the wall and fell, her precious chicks along with it. The nest landed on the ground with a thump.
The mother fluttered down to the broken remains of the nest, fearing the worst, and almost collapsed with relief. All four of her chicks were frightened but alive.
The nest, on the other hand, was a problem. It had shattered into tiny pieces.
The swallow stared at the rubble in shock. What was she supposed to do now?
It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. Jamie, Victoria, and their grandmother were playing cards in the den. Gregory, who wasn’t blessed with the ability to sit still and pay attention, let alone “stare at numbered pieces of paper,” as he put it, was swinging his plastic club and pretending to be a ninja. Their mother’s china vase sat on the window.
Victoria scanned her cards. “It’s my turn. Jamie, Give me your Jacks,” she said.
“Don’t have any. Go fish.”
Victoria took a card from the deck. “Gram, what’s Mom making for dinner tonight?”
“I have no idea. It’s my turn… Vicky, give me your sevens—”
CRASH.
The whole house shook. The three card players glanced up to see a guilty Gregory leaning on his club with shards of china littered all over the carpet.
Gregory frowned. “Oops…”
The children’s grandmother stood up. “Jamie, Victoria, clear out,” she said slowly. Her voice was low and dangerous.
Jamie scrambled out of the den after his sister, shut the door, and ran up to his bedroom, which was directly above the den. He would be able to hear the conversation below with no problems.
He closed the door and then pressed his ear to the carpet. His grandmother was busy chewing Gregory out. She was on a roll.
“…don’t you realize how expensive that vase is? You just wait until your mother finds out, Gregory! You have to be more careful! This was nobody’s fault but yours…”
Just then there was a faint thump. Jamie felt it more than he heard it. It seemed to come from outside. Jamie heaved himself up, opened his window, looked down, and drew in a sharp breath. He didn’t believe his eyes.
Chapter 4
Mr. Thompson was enjoying a peaceful afternoon snack all to himself when his youngest son barreled down the stairs three at a time, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Dad! Dad, oh my God, you wouldn’t believe what just happened – it’s crazy, you have to see this—”
“Is everything alright? I heard a crash in the den,” Mr. Thompson said worriedly.
“Yes, Gregory broke Mom’s vase—”
“What?”
“-but that’s not important- Grandma has it under control—what you really need to know is that there’s a fallen swallow nest outside, Dad, come see, c’mon…”
Mr. Thompson followed his son out of the house with one last anxious glance at the den door. Jamie led him around to the back, below his bedroom window. “C’mon, Dad… right here, look…”
Mr. Thompson looked over his son’s shoulder, awestruck. There were scattered pieces of a swallow nest in the dirt, and huddled together in the middle of it all were two swallows and four baby chicks.
“What do we do, Dad?”
Mr. Thompson bent down to observe the chicks. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, Dad…” Jamie thought for a minute. “What if we make them another nest?”
Jamie’s dad frowned. “How? We can’t piece these mud pellets back together.”
“Like… we could use a box. Or… something.” Jamie realized he hadn’t really thought it through.
“Actually, Jamie, that could work! I could nail it below your window.”
“Below? The old nest was above. That’s why I couldn’t see it until it fell down.”
“You’ll see. Jamie, I’ll be right back…” Mr. Thompson re-entered the house.
He returned a few moments later lugging a tool kit and a small cardboard box in one hand and a long maintenance ladder in the other.
“Dad, I didn’t know we’ve always had a giant ladder in the house!”
Mr. Thompson grinned. “Well, I finally have an opportunity to use it. It’s been in the downstairs closet all this time.”
They got to work. Jamie picked out the strands of grass and feathers that had lined the old nest and set them in the new one. Then, with some difficulty, he and his father placed the baby swallows in what would be their new nest. The swallow parents instinctively flew in too to stay with their chicks.
Mr. Thompson unfolded the ladder, set it up under Jamie’s window, and climbed onto the top step. Hands shaking, Jamie lifted the cardboard box and handed it to his father. He fingered the hem of his shirt anxiously and watched Mr. Thompson nail the box to the wall. He hoped the new nest would hold up better than the old one.
The hammering stopped. It was done. The nest was now firmly attached to the wall. Jamie suddenly realized why his father was putting the new nest under his window instead of above—he would be able to see it from his bedroom without any difficulty, and he could keep an eye on the swallows.
Mr. Thompson made his way down the ladder. Jamie helped his father bring the tool kit inside and put the ladder back in the closet. As soon as they were finished, he ran up to his bedroom, opened the shades, and looked out his window. The swallows were safe and happy. Jamie smiled to himself.
That night at dinner, Jamie recited the entire story to the family. They listened without interrupting him and seemed impressed—except for Gregory, who couldn’t care less, despite having caused the crash that was the most likely reason the nest had fallen in the first place—but Jamie didn’t mind. He was happy and content. With Mr. Thompson’s help, he had saved a family of swallows. He felt very proud of himself.
So you know how there is the super mean and snobby super popular girl with 2 best friends in all the movies and books and shows? Well, that’s Jessica Martinez, Abbigail Streffer, and Flora Nightingale. And you know how there is that super cute and popular boy that every girl has a crush on? Well, that’s Rafa Abascal. He has been my best friend since the first day of first grade. I don’t have a crush on him but Jessica does. And she wants to spend every second that she can with him.
My name is Theora Frincey and I love basketball. I’ve played it all my life and was trained by Stephen Curry because my mom knows him. Anyway, I’m going to tell you about one time at school.
I was at basketball practice when Rafa came up to me.
“Hey, your three-pointer is on point! Could you teach me how to get better at mine?” he said.
“Sure,” I replied. “I’m always happy to help a friend out.”
We both laughed at that because he has been asking me that since third grade. And we’re in eighth grade now.
Right then, Jessica, the leader of the J.A.F. crew came up and interrupted our conversation.
“Why not I teach you, I’m much better anyway.” She said snobbily.
So I got really mad because she always steals the people I want to teach how to shoot. So I did something I wanted to do for five years and threw the ball I was holding straight into her stomach. Really hard. Like as hard as I would throw if I was shooting from the other side of the court hard. She fell to the ground and slid all the way from the hoop, to the half court line. She looked stunned for a second. Then she started bawling.
“Coach Jenkins! Theora threw a ball at me!” she yelled.
Coach Jenkins came over and looked back and forth between me and Jessica with no expression on her face. Then, she smiled and gave me a high five. I was shocked. But not even close to as much as Jessica.
“COACH JENKINS! THEORA THREW A BALL AT ME! WHY ARE YOU GIVING HER A HIGH FIVE?!” she yelled, still crying.
“You are a snobby, annoying, GIGANTIC-egoed, BRAT. I PRAISE Theora for throwing that ball at you. I would do that if I could. Nobody likes you, you know that, right? Not even your friends. They hate you! They are only your friends because if they weren’t, you would get SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO mad and your parents would probably sue their parents.”
I looked around and everyone was shook. Nobody knew that Coach Jenkins could be so honest to a student. Some boys were shouting, “Whoo!” “Yes!” “You tell her!” and other stuff like that.
“I also don’t even understand how you could think that you are better at shooting than Theora. You know for a gosh darn FACT that that is a straight up LIEEEEEE!”
“Oh. My. Gosh. I couldn’t say it better myself, Coach Jenkins. There’s nothing left to say except…” I gestured to my friends a gesture that we made up so we could all know to say… “YOU. BETTER. BACK. OFF. HATER!!!” we all said simultaneously.
That was the story of how Coach Jenkins was the best teacher ever. In conclusion, Jessica became popular for being roasted by a teacher so she left the school, and the J.A.F. crew was over.
The End
PART 1:
Dirk at birth…
What a strange baby he was. Even though he was seconds old back then, he had already sprouted his infamous Trump-like orange hair. And he already had a beard, of all things! The doctors decided to examine him for study briefly. Since the parents did not especially care for him, after what he looked like and how many problems he had caused for his poor mother during the pregnancy, they said okay.
It turned out that Dirk (pronounced like “Dirt”, except with a k at the end, then Chepe pronounced like “chape”) had off the charts testosterone levels, and he needed to be treated immediately. So every single day of his life, he would have to inject a part of his lifetime supply of fluids that the doctors gave him in the first weeks of his life.
Enough of that testosterone stuff. Let’s talk about Dirk’s emotions as a baby. Even then, when he was born, he had severe anger management problems. (Now, he isn’t as mad all the time, since he kills and/or severely injures at least 10 kids a week in his toddler skiing “lessons,” or “massacres,” you can pick which you’d like to call them.) Back then, whenever his parents put broccoli on his plate, or anything he didn’t love, or basically anything that wasn’t applesauce, he would throw a temper tantrum that only his mom could calm down, and even that took at least four hours. But it certainly wasn’t just food. There are too many things that he hated to list here, but here are some of the major things:
There shouldn’t even be military school for two-year olds, but there was. And Dirk was such a bad boy, that tearfully, his parents had to send him there.
PART 2:
Military School
It was very hard for Dirk to adjust to military school, since he missed his parents so much. But it toughened him up, once he finally acclimatized. However, his parents would have never believed this when they sent their darling Dirk to military school, but military school probably impacted their son to kill young skiers…
At the age of eight, Dirk was a skilled fighter, one of the best in his class. When he was fifteen, he was a tall, lanky, muscular boy who could have been an American Ninja Warrior. He never attended a college of any kind. When he was twenty, he joined the military.
In his teenage years, he was quite popular with the girls. Bethany even married him. Except eventually, she would get into a lethal skiing accident.
A year after joining the military, he made a drastic career change and decided to become a professional skier. He thought this was the best decision he had made in his entire lifetime. Others, especially his future students, some dead, probably didn’t…
PART 3:
Dirk Chepe, Professional Skier
Dirk made a pretty decent pro skier, at least for the skiing part. He preferred it over other contact sports like football or wrestling, because on a flat ground, his opponent would just fall down. But on a steep, icy, snow-covered black diamond, the opponent(s) would bump down the hill, screaming and falling head over heels. It was even better on moguls! Since he did so much contact, he was sometimes disqualified from competitions for life. He didn’t care unless it was the Olympics, that he cared about. By the end of his skiing career, on much more than one occasion, he pushed many people into the trees, mostly in hit and runs. He loved doing that on moguls especially. It was so delightful to see people bumping and crashing, especially when no one on the course, or anywhere except him knew that it was him, except for him.
Then, he was even more handsome (at least according to the girls he dated) than in his teens. Eventually he had eight wives, excluding Bethany. Here they are.
(Please know that no one wanted to anger a professional skier like Dirk, so not even the owner of whatever mountain the death happened on dared to anger the possibly honorable skier Dirk Chepe. Everyone in the skiing world knew of his aggression, and knew that if they tried to report him, they would be a victim of Dirk’s homicide as well.)
PART 4:
Ski Instructor, Dirk Chepe
At age 42, Dirk retired from being a pro, and sought a job in teaching toddlers how to ski, thinking that maybe, just maybe, toddler screams would be even more appealing to him than grown people’s screams. He easily found a job at Whiteface Mountain, NY. After all, he was over half of his life; he might as well enjoy it every winter day on the mountain. And every summer day? He spends his time at Cerro Chapelco, a ski mountain in Argentina, where summers in the US are winters there, and winters in the US are summers. Sometimes, down in South America, when he feels like it, he plucks llamas off of the hills, strangles them to death, takes them home, butchers them, and eats them for dinner. My ski sketch is a good example of what a ski lesson with Instructor Dirk is like. (Also known as torture and/or a massacre). Dirk’s grand total of injured and/or dead skiers right now is 127,489. (I will update the casualty count every time I visit this doc).
In 2018, Dirk started a ski resort on Annapurna, Nepal in the Himalayas (also known as the deadliest mountain in the world), just so that when he had the time to visit, he would always see people looking like idiots trying to ski down the 26,550 summit and slip on the vertical rock face. Luckily or not, Dirk’s resort still made enough money to pay all of the death expenses, though the brochure that advertised his resort did say that skiers would ski at their own risk, and pay all of the medical bills if necessary (which, if you could not assume, was always necessary). After all, paying the bills WAS why Dirk started his resort. Shh!
So, it looks like we have reached the end of this biography. I’m pretty sure that me and the reader can conclude that the skier Dirk Chepe is a terrible person, and unfortunately, that will not change. Oh well. Not all stories have to have happy endings. And neither does this man.
The End.
Once upon a time, there lived 3 beautiful princesses and their lovely mother, Selia. They lived in a small house in a far city called Noarmuinia. The 3 princesses all wanted their own palaces. That morning, they were all eating supper together.
“Dear mother, I think it’s time for the three of us to finally live on our own, you know? Take charge of the world! Don’t you agree?” asked Princess One to Mother Selia.
“My sweet girls, I truly agree. But do you think you’ll make it past the big, bad prince? We all know that he is trying to take over the world!” answered Mother Selia.
Princess Two said: “Mother, you should know we’re all responsible at this age. We’re already twelve! We have to discover the world and go out, right dear, beloved sisters?”
“Yes, certainly true,” said the rest of the sisters.
Then Mother Selia said, “Oh dear, you do make a good point. Just be careful, OK? And especially remember that I love you!”
“Of course we will! And we will even build our own royal palaces,” Princess Three said. “It will be splendid, dear mother.”
Mother Selia said, “OK royal dears, go off in the world! And take charge of your life! Just remember I love you!”
So the princesses went out into the world and built separate palaces. The first Princess built her palace out of glass, the second built her palace out of wood, and the third built hers out of brick. Then, one evening, something went wrong at Princess One’s house.
The big bad boy knocked on the door and said, “Open up! Open up!”
So Princess One came up to the door and said, “Not by the lace on my royal gowny-gown-gown will I let your stubby self in!”
The first princess had a glass house. The big bad prince seemed to get super mad, so he said, “I will crack and crush with my stone and break your glass house down! Hiyah!”
Princess One said, “How truly dreadful, you horrid big, bad boy! You crushed my dearest glass house! I guess I’ll just go to my loving sister’s house.”
Now Princesses One and Two are at Princess Two’s house. And the big, bad boy returned again and said, “Open up! Open up!”
So Princess Two said, “Not by the lace on my gowny-gown-gown will I let your scrubby self in!”
So the big, bad prince got mad—very mad.
“I will crack and crush your wood house down with my cushioned, red laser car!” said the big, bad, prince. “Vroom, crash!”
“Oh my! Or dear! Or gosh! How dreadful! I guess we’ll just have to live at Princess Three’s palace.”
Now Princesses One and Two are at Princess Three’s house. And the big, bad prince returned once again and yelled, “Open up! Open up!”
So Princess Three repeated, “Not by the lace of my gowny-gown-gown will I let your scrubby self in!”
So the big, bad prince seemed to get mad, very mad.
“I will crack and crush your brick house with my giant metal hammer!” he yelled. “Hiyah!”
But the brick house would not even budge. The big, bad prince finally gave up and said, “I am sorry. I just want one friend.”
So Princess Three said, “Aww, we’re so sorry too. But why did you want to break our houses down?”
“Ummm.. Well I wanted to impress you. Can I please live with you?!” asked the big, bad prince.
“Of course!” said the princesses. And they all lived happily ever after.
The End.
Great orange pumpkins all alight.
Groups and groups of kids in to the night!
Haunting props and designs,
Sending screams and delights!
Bags full of candy and spooking sights.
Each plop in the bag excites,
Every doorway has an unseen fright!
Can you guess this holiday night?
Candy
Sugary sweets that fill your mouth.
Parents’ plans and ideas that go south.
Greedy children wanting more.
Begging at every store.
Finally the parents find a way.
They hide it in closets to keep it away,
from the candy crazed kids.
At every store those sugary delights.
Can somebody keep candy
away for a day?
Snow
White flakes are falling
Children are playing
Angels in the floor
White creatures with kinds galore
Three balls on top of another
ascending things are smaller
A carrot nose on the top
Three coal buttons. Pop!
Pitter patter school is out
Outside no one will pout
What is this form of water? Can you figure it out?
Santa Claus
Who’s that guy who lives up north?
What things does he give forth?
Elves are all awork.
To make this jolly night quirk.
Many dreams come true.
So nobody is blue,
Except for the ones who get,
Black dank lumps. What a threat!
How do you get what you want?
So be nice, nicer than your aunt,
But don’t be nice for a day.
you have to stay that way,
For a year to avoid that lump,
So don’t slip up and leave a bump.
at midnight near the end of the year.
The bells on his sleigh spear,
the air. Animals with horns carry him away,
who’s this guy anyway?
Presents
On a wonderful night,
What’s under your tree that wasn’t in sight?
It’s got gold yellow laces on top.
Wrapped in different colors that always pop.
The first thing you see on December five seconds.
The thing you go for on that morning that’s what it’s always.
Normally you would tiptoe down the stairs but now you don’t care about bumps and thumps,
because all you want are those wonderful things
and by the way, can you guess this wonderful thing?
Captain Daddy was walking to his favorite pie store right after saving a beaver dam from breaking. He got very hungry. He was very weak and tired, slumping forward. He was craving pie. Suddenly he heard a flute, the tune sounded eerie and jumpy.
He thought: Maybe it’s a bad guy. He followed it. There sat a man made entirely out of pie with a wicked grin and a flute in his hand. He was made from strawberry pie, apple pie, chocolate pie, and more. Delicious scents wafted from him. Suddenly the man gave an evil and quite eerie laugh.
“Soon everybody will want to eat pie and they will be under my control, for I am the Pied Piper.”
“Stop!” shouted Captain Daddy.
“Hello, hello,” said Pied Piper. “You are here and the best superhero, right, Captain Daddy?”
But Captain Daddy was gone. All that was left was a piece of his red cloak.
“Ha ha ha, I scared away Captain Daddy! Too bad he always jumps out too soon, he could have gotten me earlier!” he yelled, boasting.
“Got ya!” yelled a voice. Suddenly, Captain Daddy jumped down from the sky because he could fly and ate the Pied Piper whole. Too bad he smells so delicious, thought Captain Daddy. Makes it easy to track him down. “Yum, it tastes like apple pie, strawberry pie, and all the pies in the world!” he said.
The End
1
Secrets
I have a secret
It is mine, only mine
Fine, I will tell you
But
Only
If
You
Do
Something
For
Me
Here is what you need to do:
Tell me a secret
A tale for a tale
Something
That
Drips
Down
Your
Soul
Just a little secret
A tiny tale
A cookie crumb
An apple seed
It’s good to share secrets
Shavings of the heart
Sometimes those secrets
Can t e a r y o u a p a r t
Oh, my secret?
Come, come over here
Bend down over
Let me whisper in your ear
Maybe
My
Secret
Is
That…
Maybe I don’t have a secret
Don’t be silly, everyone does
Without secrets,
Life would be like static fuzz!
Well…
What if your secret changes?
Then mine will too.
You’ll have to find a new one.
It’s
Up
To
You
Can a secret be big?
Can a secret be small?
Yes, they can!
They encompass them all.
Shhhhhh!
Did you hear that?
The slip
Slippery
Slip?
It’s just like the drip
Drippity
Drip
It brings us back in a circle.
Maybe that’s all that a secret is.
A circle, going
Near to Far
And
Far to Near
Oh, but what about about my secret?
I guess you’ll never know.
And if you’ll excuse me,
It’s
Time
To
Go
2
Lies
I have told a lie
Have you?
Mine was very small
Was yours?
Or was it very big
Was it?
A lie can be a blizzard
Or a tiny little flake
A boulder
A pebble
A dragon
A snake
One lie leads to another. From two, to three. Three, to four. On, and on, and on, and on. Around and around and around. Music playing, in my mind. Drowns out the truth. What if you replace one with two? Is that a lie? Or is it true? Could it be? One, two, three? Is everything connected? Or will it fall apart? Am I a lie? Am I true? Are you a lie? Are you?
Lies are false. But… wait! Are they true? It’s up to me, and it’s up to you.
If
I
Tell
You
A
Lie,
Will
You
Tell
Me
One
Too?
If you write down a lie, it becomes material,
Dripping
Down
The
Page.
But, no, it doesn’t become true. It stays as
False
As
If
It
Were
Unsaid.
Left behind,
Far away,
You will soon,
Soon say,
“What was I thinking, telling that lie?
It couldn’t have gone worse.
Truth always brings forth light.”
And the truth of this matter,
It’s time to say,
Goodbye!
3
Dreams
Wait! Did you see that?
Deep inside your mind?
It’s buried very deep.
Truly hard to find.
A dream is a whole entire world, buried inside your head.
It is an animal and, coming awake at night, it sneaks through your thoughts,
leaving behind telltale traces.
To find one you must delve
Down
And
Down
And
Down
I cannot
I
M
A
G
I
N
E
Having no dreams.
Life would be boring,
Falling apart at the seams.
Dreams are real.
But then, they are not.
Hot is cold
And cold is hot.
Hidden away
behind the beams
There you will find
The source of dreams
A wisp of mist
A curl of smoke
A wave of water
Ready to soak.
But…
Could the source of dreams be us?
The human soul?
But no, dreams control us
They control
Why are there dreams?
I’ll tell you why.
For
When
You
Want
To
Linger
When you don’t want to wake up to the world
But eventually you have to
You have to say goodbye to this sweet, sweet, dreamland.
But now, it’s time to leave.
Wake up!
?
Epilogue
We’ve shown you secrets and lies and dreams. But those were ours, not yours. You have many as well. Bring them out to the surface.
F
A
R
E
W
E
L
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