Take life by the hand and Dance!

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Creative Writing- Fable

Fred the frog was an adventurous fellow. He always explored around his pond and all of the hiding places within it. You could always find him out and about looking around and meeting new frogs, fish, and other pond creatures! He knew just about everyone in his neighborhood.

But one afternoon, Fred was bored of all the same hiding places and people. He wanted to go out of his pond and follow the lily pads down to the stream. His friends told him not too, especially Wonda the owl. She knew something bad was going to happen if he left the pond. Wonda was the smartest owl around, and everyone always went to her for advice, except Fred. He thought he knew everything there is to know about his pond and whats outside of it. He thought he should go check it out for himself.

So off he went hopping the lily pads down to the stream. He was had all the confidence in the world, and he knew that when he got back to his pond all of the other frogs and fish would praise him for his braveness. Hip hop he went, not looking back to see if anyone was going to follow, he was alone.

All alone towards the stream and his pond was out of side. He wanted to talk to someone but nobody was around except for the crickets and the chirping ringing in Fred's ears. He arrived to the stream. The current was faster and stronger then he thought it would be and he didnt want to go to close to it. He had nobody to tell him what to do so he was deciding whether or not he should cross it. The water was rushing by and he could see that there were not even fish swimming around, just stones.

He decided to take a chance, so that the fish and frogs back home would honor him with his bravery. Just as he was about to hippity hop to the nearest stone out to the middle of the stream, Wanda the owl Whood. He quickly turned around with astonishment as he looked up above to see her sitting on the tree. She had been following him the entire time! "I wouldn't do that if I were you Freddy" She said with a cautious voice of wisdom. "I have to so everyone will see how brave I am at home!" he screamed. "Nobody has ever crossed the border of our pond except me Fred, Nobody thought it was a good idea for you to come out here, its very dangerous to cross this stream and you could get hurt" Wanda said with assurence. Fred hung his head as he hopped away.

He Hopped back to the pond with Wanda behind him, and to his suprise all of the frogs and fish praised him and cheered for him and his bravery! They thought that he was so smart for NOT crossing the stream and everyone loved him even more! He and Wanda became the best of friends and they forever explored there pond, together.
Creative Writing- Interview

Sitting in Mimi's Cafe, the local hangout, I was waiting for Cedric Harrison. Also known as the "New Kid on the Block". I was looking around, I see teenagers talking about the latest gossip, and plans for the weekend. I saw a boy walk throught the door, a very striking and hansom man I must admit. Could this be Cedric? Before sitting down across from me, he was mingling around the cafe talking to all of hish friends with short conversations and hello's.

He introduced himself to me and I began to ask him about his new life in Atlanta. He Just moved here no more than four months ago from Mosspoint, Mississippi. He came to Atlanta because of the horrific hurrican Katrina. She had wiped out most of his house and he and his family had no water whatsoever for almost two weeks. Disgusting, I know. "There was a lot of elderly people around us that also had no electricity and water so my family and I had to help them and ourselves to survive. We had to share the small amounts of food that we were given and the ice to keep ourselves cool." Cedric explains to me and his face grew concerned with the thought of the tragic memories.

As only a freshman at Chamblee, Highschool, Cedric is obviously not having a hard time fitting in. He has many friends and extraordinary grades. "I want to go to Auburn University, I like the way they do things academic wise, and their football is amazing so hopefully I will get to play when i get there." Mr.Harrison tells me that he is apart of the Junior Varsity football team at his school and by sophomore year he is hoping to get onto Varsity.

So as you can see, Cedric Harrison is an All-American teenage boy, just trying to get through his past mishaps and disasters to start all over again. Even though he misses his friends in Mississippi, he's not having any trouble finding new ones here.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Creative Writing- Rap

Sitting in class
I hope I pass!
I need this grade,
I prayed and prayed.
My mom yelled at me
She wasnt very happy.
I hate this school
Everyone acts like a fool.
But my friends arent lame,
They have all the fame.
I love them all
They don't laugh when I fall.
This is my rap,
Its not crap!
You have to get the beat
That I got from the street.
This ain't about the hood,
But not like it should.
Its about my life
And all of my strife.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Creative Writing- Childs Poem

I Broke My Tooth

TOday i broke my tooth.
I've never broken any bones before,
But mommy sid its just lookse
and that my big girl teeth are coming in.
I guess they are coming late
Because mommy and daddy already
Said I was a big girl when I turned 5.
Where are they coming in anyways?
Maybe Santa's bringing them.
Last Christmas he gave me Barbie.
This Barbie was neat because you could
Change her make-up with water.

Today my tooth got loose.
I was swinging on the monkey bars and fell.
I landed on my face and my tooth got loose.
When Santa brings me my big girl teeth,
I hope he shines them up to make them white like Devons.

My Tooth is Gone

Today Cassie and I were Fighting
For the pink crayon.
She elbowed me and my tooth.
Now its really broken, I mean loose.
Mommy says its groos to look at
But its prety neat when I can wiggle it around.
Santa should hurry up and get here
With my big girl toth cuz i'm starting to hurt.

Cassie has a pointy elbow.
I dont think she can ever hurt it
Cuz one time she hit it on the
Desk and started laughing really hard.
She told me she hit her funny bone,
And thats why she was laughing.
I think she named her elbow her funny bone,
Cuz its so pointy looking.

When I got home,
My big brother Devon told me its time
to take my tooth out.
He came in my toom with a string
And told me o open wide.
He said he was going to
tie the string to my baby tooth.
And it will make me feel better .
I told him i wanted to wait till Santa got here
Cuz he would make me feel better, with some hot cocoa.
Devon laughed at me and called
me a weirdo.
I called him a freako.
He tied my tooth real right
It felt like a band-aid,
But it didnt feel any better, like he said it would.
He walked over to my door
And was telling me about this fairy and how she was
going to visit me tonight.
What fairy? You mean Santa?
HE said i would get money for my toothe.
He is such a weirdo.

He slammed the doore really fast.
It hurt so bad my mouth tasted salty.
There was red blood everywhere
And i started to cry till I couldn't breath
And my throat wouldnt let me open it.
My tooth is gone.
Devon is so mean!
Santa is going to be so mad at him!
He washed my mouth out
And i kinda felt beter.
He told me if I put my tooth
under my pillow tonight,
I would get money in the morning.

I asked mommy if he was right,
and she said yes.
She said I might have one dollar siiting
under my pillow in the morning
If I am a good girl.

The Toothfairy

After I took my bath
I got my P.J's on.
I put my tooth under my pillow and thought about
what she looked like
The TOothefairy.
I decided i shouldnt sleep on my pillow
so she has some air,
So I slept on the floor instead.
When mommy came to tuck me in,
she told me I was a silly goose
And that I could sleep on my bed.
And that the toothfairy will be fine.
She's Magical!
I've never heard of this fairy,
And I really wanted to see Santa .
Mommy said I would have to wait
Till Christmas.
I wen tto bed and i couldnt go to sleep.


Rain

The Drop of rain
Rushing down (down).
Hit
Crashed
Pounded Dripping.
Falling Down
(down).
Sliding Placing gloss
Over the Sheild.
Rain falling
Down (down).

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Short Story

Today. Today was the day that I would take the hardest test of my life. That week at least. Driving up to the DMV with my mother, I was driving through the course in my head. Every turn, every lane change, every everything. We turned into the parking lot of the DMV. "I'm nervous." I said to my mother. She calmly smiled and told me I would do fine. She handed me the keys as I anxiously stepped out of my future car. I looked back at it as my stomach stared to tremble with nervous butterflys. As soon as we walked through the DMV double doors everybody who was waiting for there number to be called stared. They stared at me like they had never seen somebody as anxious as I was. I walked up to the counter with my mom as the grumpy looking woman handed me some papers to sign. I skimmed the small print contract, and circled yes or no to all the questions. They asked me things like "Have you gotten arrested in the past 6 months?" No. "Have you ever gotten a DUI ticket in the past 6 months?" No. Of course not, I dont even have my liscence...yet. The pen was over-used and dry out of ink and the woman was staring at me with annoyance with her fake aqua eyes as I was taking my time not to make any mistakes. When I finished, she told me and my mother to go sit in the pink chairs across the room to wait for my appointment. The were clearly red. Maybe her color contacts affected her color sight.

As I waited patiently, I observed the people around me. They looked as if they had been sitting there for years. The women next to me had a stench. Kind of like Chinese Food, it made me loose my appetite. The man across from me kept picking at his beard, as if he had lice or something. He was elderly and hairy. His arms we hairy and his ears were hairy. These people disgust me. Then i thought to myself, if I pass this test, I will never have to return to this hell hole ever again. The woman walked over to me and asked for my paper work. She seemed nice, but really tired. She told me to get in the car and roll down the window and she would be out in a minute to check my lights and such. I said okay in a calm tone and walked out the door to my beautiful car. I waited there for what seemed to be 3 hours, but in reality, 3 minutes. I was just telling myspef to act natural and everything will be fine, i shouldnt show her that I'm really scared to death. She dragged herself out the door exhaustedly. She screamed for me to blow my horn, turn my lights and blinkers. They all worked perfectly so she opened the door and sat down. She introduced herself. "My name is Tamika." She said in a friendly voice. "Hi! I'm Nicole." I said back. She instructed me to drive on and take a right. My heart was pounding inside me. I could feel the sweat on my palms against the steering wheel. Those butterflys were back.

We went around the block, and took a few more turns. My car felt like it was a microwave because it was so hot. My air conditioner was broken. We made small conversation about traffic and naps. She was tired, as i assumed when I met her. I had a bothersome itch on my cheek, but I was scared that if i took my hand off the wheel, she would count off some points. We finished up the test and I pulled up in the parking lot of the DMV. She sighed and told me I needed to work on my parallel parking and such. She told me I did fine on the road as she opened her mouth wide with a yawn. She told me to be safe and that I seemed like a "really cool chick" I sat there in disbeleif that I had actually passed that mad hard test. She stepped out of the car and walked away. Still in awe I immediatly realized what had happened. I ran out of the car while my mother was waiting there on the sidewalk with a camera in her hand. She knew I would pass. She took a a picture with me and my new car, named Isabella. She gave me a hug and congradualeted me. Now, I am free.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Extended Metaphor

Writing is a pond with rippled words.
Sentences can change with a drop of a leaf.
Even more with a drop of a stone.
The harder the word, the bigger the ripple.
Words spread out like the wings of a butterfly.
Every color and line is different from anothers.
But camouflaged with a hidden meaning.
Writing is a pond with rippled words.
You're mind holds all ideas,
But only a single inspiration,
Can make the ripple spread
And consume you're whole mind.
Only when the earth and water are still
Do you not have something to say.
Writing is a pond with rippled words.
American Lit. Assignment two: The Harlem Renaissance


The Harlem Renaissance is a time when African-Americans broke out of their shell and started to express their art, music, literature, and dance skills. During the Harlem Renaissance, African-Americans moved their way up to the North from the south. This was called the "Great Migration". "They were looking for better jobs, and most of all, a better life. There was a very large selection of jobs in the North, thanks to Warld War 1. A lot of men had to go to war leaving a lot of labor to be done in the North" (The African-American Mosaic). African-Americans were even sometimes paid to travel up to the North because some railroad companies were so desperate for employees.

The Black Christ

By: Countee Cullen

I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind, And did He stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried mole continues blind, Why flesh that mirrors Him must someday die, Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus To struggle up a never-ending stair. Inscrutable His ways are, and immune To catechism by a mind too strewn With petty cares to slightly understand What awful brains compels His awful hand. Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him sing!


Another famous author that was a part of the Harlem Renaissance was a man named Countee Cullen. He was born in New York, and was a major effect on the social reality of African-Americans during the Harlem Renaissance. Countee was a poet who was famous for his volume of poems written in 1925 entitled "color"(Countee Cullen). Another famous poem he wrote was called "The Black Christ" which was written in 1929. The tone of his poem is somewhat humurous. He explains all the wrong and harsh things God does to humans and animals. He uses imagery such as "The little buried mole continues blind" but at the end of the poem, he says "Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him sing!" which means, to me, that God made a poet black. Which to him is marvelous because black poets, during that time, weren't welcomed by everyone to the society. The Harlem renaissance was a time when African-Americans broke out of their shell and started to express their art, music, literature, and dance skills.

Although, literature and poetry aren't the only things that were a major part of the Harlem Renaissance during the 1920's. Music brought along the rythm and movement that people of that time had never seen or even heard before. "A musician named Duke Ellington, was known as a "founding father" of jazz music. He had started to play the piano when he was only seven, and had been in love with music since. He was more interested in composing music in an orchestra".(Edward "Duke" Ellington). But by 1923, he was involved in his own band, called The Washingtonians. Duke had a sophisticated way of playing his music so that the entire audience knew his exact emotion. This had an enormous effect on the Africa-Americans of the 1920's.

Another Harlem Renaissance "hero" is an artist named Aaron Douglass. Aaron is known to most people as the artist who defined the "New Negro" Philosophy with his art work. He painted murals for buildings, and pictures for African-American Books, and furthermore, founded the Art Department of Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee. And also taught there for 29 years as well. His painting inspired other African-Americans to speak their minds. This painting and most of his other work was an oil painting. This painting, as you can see, is the slaves being brought into slavery. This image shows the slave ships coming in to africa taking them all away in chains, before they had the great migration to the north and slavery was abolished. He Painted this image to show people just a small segmant of what they went through beforre the Harlem Renaissance began. He, as well, had an enormous effect on the harlem renaissance.

In conclusion, my overall thoughts of the Harlem Renaissance has definetly taught me the aftermath of the slavery time period. I learned what happened to the African-americans during the great depression and the risks they took to come up to the North during the Great Migration. I liked the different people that had the most effect on the other African- Americans and the people who truely defined "New-Negro".

Bibliography

  1. Author Unknown. "The African-American Mosaic." The library of congress and resource guide for the study of Black history and culture. January 11, 2006. (http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/african/afam011.html).
  2. Author Unknown. "Countee Cullen (1903-1946)." Authors Calender. January 11, 2006. (http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/ccullen.htm).
  3. Tucker, Mark. "Duke Ellington." The Red Hot Jazz Archive. January 12, 2006.
    (http://www.redhotjazz.com/duke.html).

My Generation

My generation, is the dawn of new
technology, micro-chips the size of
your palm that can play 1500 songs.
Phones and Mp3's, cars,
and TV's are getting smaller, thinner,
and more expensive by the day.
Technology is one thing,
but fashion is another. My generation
is a combination of all the past
generations put together. Styles come
and go, but flared and faded
jeans will never leave. This clothing
style is worn by todays teenagers

who have grown up as a team.
When i say team i mean,
we know how to work together.
The teenagers have grown up with
soccer moms, football practice,

teacher-parent meetings.
We are the generation known
as "team work" As our parents grew
up as independant and

free thinkers, we grew up as team
work and following the crowd.
Teenagers whos styles evolve, together.
Summer time mini skirts and shorts.
Teenage boys who will never be
too old for skate boarding,teenage girls
who will never be to old for pink.
Orange is not the new pink. My generation
is filled with teenagers who, will
never see a true hippie
like our parents were. And teenagers who
try to be hippies but will never understand
"peace, love, and happiness".
Teenagers who are just a reflection
of old generations and
technology is our

only window to the future.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

My Generation

My generation, is the dawn of new
technology, micro-chips the size of
your palm that can play 1500 songs.
Phones and Mp3's, cars,
and TV's are getting smaller, thinner,
and more expensive by the day.
Technology is one thing,
but fashion is another. My generation
is a combination of all the past
generations put together. Styles come
and go, but flared and faded
jeans will never leave. This clothing
style is worn by todays teenagers who have grown
up as a team. When i say team i mean,
we know how to work together.
The teenagers have grown up with
soccer moms, football practice, teacher-parent
meetings. We are the generation known
as "team work" As our parents grew
up as independant and free thinkers, we grew up
as team work and following the crowd.
Teenagers whos styles evolve, together.
Summer time mini skirts and shorts.
Teenage boys who will nevver be
too old for skate boarding,teenage girls
who will never be to old for pink.
Orange is not the new pink. My generation
is filled with teenagers who, will
never see a true hippie
like our parents were. And teenagers who
try to be hippiesbut will never understand
"peace, love, and happiness".
Teenagers who are just a reflection
of old generations and
technology is our only window to the future.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

American Lit: 1st assignment


My Similies:
1. She was so lonely, she felt like the only bird in the sky.
2. Our eyes were smiling like the sun.
3. The clock ticked patiently like a bomb waiting to explode.