The Final Post

I am sorry to say that I am officially shutting down this blog. I will still view other blogs, but I feel I am not meant to be a blogger myself. So this is it. The final post. Good bye, for this blog is out of service.

Writer's Block

A poem I wrote (a little formulaicly rythym-wise) when I had writer's block on an essay in Language Arts. Well, I just wrote it now. Maybe my writer's block will have gone away by the time the post hits cyberspace. I sure do hope so...
A peaceful day
A calming breeze
A winter's breath
Of flowing ease

Is ruined once
Is ruined again
Demolished, dsetroyed
By an unkind friend

Writer's block
Is here once more
To provide chaos and stress
And shake you to your core

Why does it come?
To bother me so?
Why do I care
And let it leave me low?

After it gets here
It settles in tight
And prevents the flow of thinking
And the tinkering idea light

It invades my brain
And diverts my thoughts
Yet I somehow let it...
But how do I not?

How does one get rid of such things?
How does one proceed to go on?
By accepting it as an equal and working it out?
By spazzing out and calling it a moron?

No. Take a calm approach.
Think of a pleasant experience
In which you have written
Then the block relents

It will melt to nothingness
Shrivel away
The only comfort in writer's block
Is that it's not here to stay.

Time

Slipping so fast

As I grasp on tightly,

It slithers away,

Stealthily innocent.

Moving, always moving;

Flowing, always flowing.

Amazing, appreciated slowly,

Unlike its rapid route,

Of going so fast,

When I want it to slow.

Or when it falls away,

Out of reach,

Uncomprehended, but accepted.

An unknown stranger.

Swoosh, and it is gone;

Forever.

Into my hands,

The Miracle of Time.

Whistle to the Wind

When I whistle

My secrets,

The song of my world,

A melody so fragile,

Comes bellowing,
Unfurled.

I tell nature,

Who's listening,

Everything I know,

Through the tool,

Of communicating,

My song as I go.

The wind sweeps,

Unto me,

And carries my words away,

And the tune ,

That I whistle,

Is lost in the day.

Journal

Journal

Binding my thoughts

Keeping my secrets

Holding my place in life

The Season of Poetry

The season of poetry

Has arrived

Bright is the sun

Shining in the clouds

Crisp is the air

Surrounding our souls

Colourful is the world

We are thrust into graciously

Pristine are the leaves

Falling to reality

Happy am I

That the season has begun

River

A river

Flowing

On and on

As the tears fall

Drop by drop

And I cry

Heart to heart

With myself and my emotions

As the river goes on

Continuous

Line by line

Made up of more

Than the eye can see

Meanings

One by one

Connecting

Piece to piece

Forming a story

Of my life

Blog Survey!

Dear Followers, Visitors, and Other Who View My Blog,

Here is the first blog survey that I have composed to get feedback from my followers, visitors, and anyone who sees my blog. I want to hear your feedback, good or bad, and I will try to listen and fix problems and/or keep the good stuff. Thanks!

Sincerely From,

Rose Cunningham

Link to Survey (1): https://spreadsheets.google.com/viewform?hl=en&pli=1&formkey=dDFKSlhwU255M1g0UFpyVGRaSVlTbEE6MQ#gid=0

Poem Experiments

As I was going through some old notebooks I found a few poems I would like to share and some that are inspired from previous occasions, so here goes:

1. Doodling: Turning Boredom to Wonder and Dreams

Why do I doodle?

Just like so?

Destroying this notebook

In the only way I know.

Writing meekly exists

While scribbles are alive;

It is for its wide-ruled lines

These Drawings will thrive.

I think this is just something fun and light. Entertainment, per say. And btw, I abhor wide-ruled paper with a fiery passion of dislike and negative emotions swirled up in a fizzy drink for 10 hours and let out all at once. Every second of my life. ~College Ruled Rules~

2. Of Love, Hatred, and Evil

Her eyes carried silent tears

Of diminshed hope

Of painful sorrow

Of angry love

Of broken tomorrow.

Her mouth spoke with no words at all

Of her journey

Of her life

Of her suffering

Of her knife.

Her hands shook with unknown fear

Of dreading consequences

Of hatred so pure

Of her beauty beyond
Of her condescending lure

Her brain whizzed into a flurry of panic

Of why she had done it

Of how he had betrayed her

Of how she couldn't go back

Of how she had to face it later.

Her heart shed shards of broken glass

Of misunderstanding

Of obstacles whose pain will burn

Of true love smashed

Of no return.

Her heart did not continue shedding hope

Because it stopped

Her heart gave out at last

She lay next to her lover

And forgot the past.

This one is a bit more intense and emotional. For some reason though, I cannot come to a conclusion of why I wrote this. I am often surprised that these things come out of my brain. How? Why? I concluded when I wrote this that I have an emptiness in regard to events like this, they do not pertain to me and I am not experienced anything of have something concrete to relate to, so I use references from the world around me to conjure a poem to fill the emptiness I have from lack of experience. Rather.

Moving along...

3. Setting Sun

Setting sun,

Crimson wings flail like birds in a cage;

Screaming surrender as the moon takes over.

A gleam of peace across a streaked sky,

An angel's kiss, light, airy, full of power and awe,

Stunning, painted with an artist's paw;

The beauty, a veil to the coming night.

A more natural tone and many techniques that I experimented with. If you notice, it the same pattern as "The Night," save the last line. I wrote it after I recalled that poem and, well, a setting sun.

4. Abused

She walked without a need,

Helplessly quiet.

No one glanced or payed aheed.

She walked without a need.

No one cares for her, indeed.

Her head low, an internal riot,

She walked without a need,

Helplessly quiet.

I found this interesting as I came back upon it. It is in the style of a triolet, where the structure is as follows:

Line 1: important, will be repeated

Line 2: important, will be repeated

Line 3: rhymes with Line 1

Line 4: Line 1, repeated

Line 5: rhymes with Line 1

Line 6: rhymes with Line 2

Line 7: Line 1, repeated

Line 8: Line 2, repeated

So that was my first triolet I ever wrote, and at the time I thought it was hideous and terrid. Yet now, as I look back, it shows some gleaming potential and gives room for the reader to think. All of these poems, I had abandoned or overlooked (or, in reference to #3 not finished but a few lines), and now I see that they are worth sharing and are great in their own way. So I hope you enjoy them, and feel more than free to comment! It's free! No price at all to share your thoughts. Not even a penny for your thoughts. Ok, pathetic,...But alas, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed my poetic experiments!

The Tiny Man's Journey

Once upon a time,

A ways in the past,

A tiny man began his journey-

His first and his last.

Across a deep moat

Is where he began;

To overthrow the King

Was his passionate plan.

He stepped up to the gate,

Feeling powerful and brave.

The expression he wore

As he spoke was quite grave.

"Let me see the King,"

He demanded real loud.

He took a step forward

As he formally bowed.

"Of what do you want?"

An answer came booming.

The tiny man stood,

In the air, his reply looming.

"I have come for the King,

I, the small and the meek.

To confront his royal majesty

Is all I will speak."

"Why then," the voice started,

"Come forth, yes indeed.

Your request will be honoured,

You will get what you decreed."

"Why thank you, your highness.

Let me pay my respects.

All I ask in return,

Is a battle of intellects."

The tiny man went in the palace,

And as he did so,

The majesty himself

Decided to show.

"Intellects, huh?"

He sneered at the man,

"But first we fight!

Come at me, let's see if you can."

"Physically?" the man stammered,

Not ready to fight.

He couldn't muster another word,

Try as he might.

"Yes! exclaimed the King,

With an awfully cruel sneer.

"Begin!" he cried jovially,

Coming at the man with a spear.

Scared at the King's

Nasty reply,

The tiny man thought fast

And made a decision so sly.

He took off running,

Sprinting as fast as he could go,

While the King sent an army,

Yet the little man did not know.

Not intellects anymore,

It was a battle of speed.

The army tromped off

After the man who had fleed.

"I will get you tiny man!

You'll pay your sorry price!"

But the man, o so clever

Knew the army's only vice.

As he zoomed through a patch

Of overgrown grass,

He wrapped himself in a piece,

What an apt little lass!

The army was bewildered.

Where had the man crept?

He was hidden from sight,

So the army trudged back as they wept.

"We're sorry, dear King,"

They sobbed as one force,

"We couldn't find him,

By foot or by horse."

The King was quite maddened,

But he called off the search.

"If he ever comes back,

We'll be ready to lurch."

That was not the case,

The man was hopelessly lost.

But he figured for his plan,

This was the cost.

He was in a field of berries,

Lush grass, o so green,

Clear and beautiful skies,

And branches so lean.

After exploring the land,
The marshes, the cave,
The man decided it was wondrous,
And made a choice so very brave.

He decided to build himself

A cabin of log

Nearby some horses

And overlooking the bog.

From now on,

The tiny man resides by the pasture,

What a courageous little man,

Who's living happily ever after.

Quotes of Rose Cunningham 4

Finally! It has been 8 months since my last post on quotes. I'm am so deeply sorry I took a break from writing quotes, but I assure you, I have restarted. At least one almost every night! Hope you enjoy these:

"Inspiration doesn't come when you call it, or just act upon your every heart's desire. It is something that needs to be longed for from within, and found with a passion."

"As I write this, I think of all the people who could potentially read it, and I am in awe."

(extension: I feel so blessed to know I am noticed.")

"Awe is a state of such joy and meaning all welled into a big clump of 'whoa', that it is called an emotion purely because of the amazingly miraculous feeling your body is paralyzed by."

" 'We' want the satisfaction more than being right."

"We do not live to die, we die because we have lived."

"The secret to joy is that we celebrate in others' happiness and realize that everyone can be great."

"Imagination is essential."

"Boredom is a mere word for the freedom to let your mind wander endlessly about."

"One must balance respect for one's self as well as respect for those around you."

"Reach out a hand to the past; you and that of which you have reconnected with will be eternally grateful."

"When you are tired, sleep."

"I have found that when you respect authority, life runs very smoothly and in your favor."

"Passion is a quality of motivation."

"The best advice I can give is to not be afraid to define your own future."

"You are the author of your story: you decide all the fine details."

"O! The morn is gorgeous, a beauty in my eyes."

"But what for the coincidences in life? What purpose does the meeting of people and the daily comparisons hold? For they are an entertaining addition amidst the realm of life."

"The fresh crisp leaves, the scent of morning's air, the fresh look of awakened plants, the beauty of the morning earth; it all helps my day to become something so joyous I must give thanks."

"I am defining my future, and by doing that, I have high expectations for myself."

(extension: Thus, I will succeed by achieving my goals and grasping my dreams.")

"When I bath in the glorious life, I want to get down on my knees and thank God forever."

"Sometimes you have to forget yourself to take care of those you love."

Birthday Celebration Giveaways, from Kirthi

My best friend, Kirthi, has a birthday coming up! In honour of her 14th year, she is hosting a set of giveaways. Here is the link to enter. You must be a follower of her blog Pages to enter. And..happy birthday Kirthi!

Teaser Tuesday (2)

Thanks to MizB from Should be Reading for hosting this great meme. Right now I am reading the Complete Poems of Dorothy Parker. Here is an excerpt (or rather, a poem):

"Star that gives a gracious dole,

What am I to choose?

Oh, will it be a shriven soul,

Or little buckled shoes?

Shall I wish a wedding-ring,

Bright and thins and round,

Or plead you send me covering-

A newly spaded mound?

Gentle beam shall I implore

Gold, or sailing-ships,

Or beg I hate forevermre

A pair of lying lips?

Swing you low or high away

Burn you hot or dim;

My only wish I dare not say-

Lest you should grant me him."

It is entitled Star Light, Star Bright-.

Birthday Shout-Out! (from Captain Jack Sparrow...)

A very happy birthday to Kirthi Rao!!! (of Pages and Dreaming in the Rain, future author/environmentalist/viola player/future alumni of Hogwarts/blogger/book-reviewer and reader/Johnny Depp and Enya fan/magnificent friend extraordinare) =)

May all your wishes come true and hope you enjoy your special day and embark on your 14th year! Many stupendous surprises are in store...

Hebdomadal Anecdote (5)

Hello Blogosphere! Guess what? (what?) Today my iPod came! I have been saving up for a while now and I finally got it! It is a yellow nano 5th generation. I am so happy! I have downloaded loads of music, though not 16 gigabytes worth.....it holds so much! It's unbelievable to think of how people make things of that nature. In social studies, we are learning of native americans and the early inhabitants of GA. To think that we have come from that to now really is amazing! For example, I think it would be nice to live with nature and relying on resources to survive and be the first people to do anything (which now that I think about it, we are the first people to do whatever we are to do...), however, living now has many advantageous qualities. The quality of life is supposedly better and we have better healthcare and life expectancy. Technology has become extremely advanced, and communication superbly more comprehendable. I guess each time period has ups and downs. Yet an interesting point my teacher made was that we are slowly regressing. Take communication for example: the early inhabitants used symbols and pictures to communicate. We, via text message, also use symbols and abbreviations for communication. I don't exactly know what this means at the moment, but it does give you something to think about, that much I know. We are supposedly supposed to move forward.....ANYWAYS, that has nothing to do with writing, but this is a side, very random anecdote. And, yep. That is all. Have a wonderful day!

P.S. Btw, in case you were wondering, I took a momentary break from writing quotes and now I have continued. The estimated date of when I will post them is approximately.....the middle of September.

Erasure Limerick

Where do all the erasures go, that we sweep away?

Where do those hidden words go, to creep back out and play?

The things we write stay on the page,

Yet the erasures disassemble and disengage,

So where do all the useless words go, that we don't bother to say?

Escape

If I could
I'd pack a bag

With pens and pencils

paper and book

and all else I'd need to

survive

and I 'd go venturing

in comfy clothes

And stay for a while

I'd leave a note

to let behind

a clue of where I'm going

And then I'd be gone

Off to a place

Of serenity

and self-discovery

And peace

A quiet silence of the mind

Amidst the natural beauty of the world

A Natural Wish

I wish I could capture

The essence of

the crape myrtle

and

the berry bush

In the sun

To frame exactly

the picture I see now

and to

find a vase to

capture the sunlight

hitting the plants,

shining their beauty to

the world

and to seize

the sky in the background

forever embed it in

my mind

to find a way

to fill the vase

if the vase is my eyes

and I behold beauty

Anger

Sometimes I want
to scream so loud
to shatter the ground
to crumble the mountains to destroy the peace

to let loose all emotion

And full-out scream

I want to let the world know

the unknown anger

Burried inside my veins

To let it escape

And for one second be calm

Relaxed

Serene

To have a chance at being free of

Stress, preoblems, carelessness

To be insouciant inside

And live without something

to tie me down

Without the welded metal

Clinging to my insides

I want to volcanicly erupt

Out of the frozen shell anger

Molds me into

I want to feel all the heat rush out

Of me and

be replaced by the

sweet cold.

Yet I cannot be that selfish

I cannot do this for reasons

Of higher importance

Than me

But can you imagine

Holding all that

in?

Glittering, Glistening, Sparkling, Shine

A patch of light, cuaght up in the sun

Waiting, waiting, just for someone to spot it, to admire it, and to notice it
Basking in its brilliance the sparkle of light shines its radiance

Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.

A lone star, visible to us as one

Twinkling aloft many others

Guiding our drowsiness into soft songs of sleep

Sweet dreams in the magic night air
Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.

A man gazes into a girl's eyes

Love swirls around the jubilant couple

Entranced, enlocked in each others' hearts,

Emotions pour through the glimmer in her gorgeous eyes that are
Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.

A shaft of light, simmering in the comfortable atmosphere

Comes through the window

Beckoning a wandering eye, to catch up to it, poses a challenge to

Catch its radiance amidst the struggles of the day, and you see it

Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.

A new idea, rambling on and on

Genius, wandering, flows through specks of pure creativity

Mind tinkering, forming, and evolving

Wonders are introduced to the world

Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.

All these come and I appreciate

Bathing in the glory of the small miracles of life

I am created and defined by what and how I live and I choose

To merit the minute wonders of my world, therefore I am

Glittering, glistening, sparkling, shine.s