Friday, December 9, 2011
Forever Ago...
These two poems down below were written a few years back, which explains why they're so....... cheesy.
Imagine This
You're driving down the road,
In your new car burnin heat,
When all of a sudden you see a toad,
Crossing the dang street!
You're shocked and bewildered,
bangin on your head,
when all of a sudden you close your eyes,
And squish! The toad is dead.
There's a Hole in the Wall
There's a hole in the wall, It's very big indeed.
Someone's in trouble, for there's a hole you see.
Oh how I can imagine, the look on dad's face,
When he comes into the room, and sees the empty space.
Well, who did it?
Who's the sneaky rat?
When I find out who did it-hey...what're you lookin at?
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Other
Her crying grew louder, in the confined room.
“Hush,” soothed Otro. “Why are you so gloom?”
“My head is heavy, my heart is weak, and if I might say so, my life is bleak.”
“Nada my friend, come see the stars tonight, they are sparkling and shining, and oh so bright.”
“I cannot dear Otro, It will be no use
I can’t be made happy, I can’t take abuse.”
“Why don’t you rest, you’ve had a hard day, come, lay on your pillow, and dream life away.”
“To dream is a pleasure, but not reality.
Oh why Otro, why must you torture me?”
“Listen, my Nada, can you hear what is near?
A bird by the window, it is calling you my dear.”
“I hear no bird. Why do you play such games?
Even if it was, it all turns out the same.”
“Oh precious one, why can you not see?
Life is meant to be lived, and this is not how to be.”
“Otro, Otro, if only you could know
My life is done, full of misery and woe.”
“My child my child, your life is not done,
There is still much to learn, more wars to be won.”
“But how Otro? I’m tired and I’m sick
Of all the things lost, I’m afraid I must quit.”
“My dear, dear child, do not say such things,
For if it were so, I would not be.”
“What do you mean? How is that so?
If I am not here, oh, where would you go?”
“My dear Nada, don’t you see?
I am a part of you, and you are a part of me.
Do not fret, oh Nada, I will never depart,
And when your weary self needs me, I will be in your heart.”
A long time had passed since she had seen the sun, had felt the warm rays that the new morning brought. As she stood there hand resting on the windowsill, she longed to tear down the boards that parted her from the outside world. Heaving a great sigh, she slowly secluded herself to the room that served as her prison. Sitting down, she looked across from her and imagined a friend. A friend she could share her most deepest secrets with. Who would listen to her and shield her from the worries that haunted her every moment. Daydreaming was a daily pastime for her. That’s all she had to keep herself from going completely insane, or worse. Sometimes she dreamt she was a princess. So beautiful that every prince far and wide would come to see her in hopes of winning her heart. But most times, she wished that she would someday step outside those four walls and live the life she had always wanted to. Some of the townsfolk knew of the girl up in the attic who never came out. Some were even curious enough to climb the vines up to the window in hopes of getting a glimpse of the infamous dweller. But no one ever succeeded, so she remained a ghost, invisible and unaware in her surroundings.
One morning, a young man moved into the town. He had come for new work, but for him that was only half of the story. Escaping from his past, he was eager to start afresh. All the day he heard the townsfolk talking of the girl who lived in the attic, and the more he heard, the more his curiosity grew. He became so enthralled with the stories, he desperately wandered to find someone who knew her. So he went, knocked on every door, and stopped every townsperson who fortunately came his way. To his despair, no one had any news on the girl in the attic, or how she came to be. He slowly started the walk back home, seemingly upset about how little he knew. Lost in thought, he did not notice he was wandering off from town. As he trudged up a hill, he noticed something he did not before. A little house, almost hidden by trees and shrubs, and so old it looked as if it had not been occupied for quite some time. He knew it was late and he was far too tired to walk any further, but something was pulling him towards the house, beckoning him to come closer. Approaching the door, he slowly knocked and waited, doubtful anyone would answer. To his surprise, someone did. An old man, with a rugged beard and faded clothes. He stepped solemnly out of his sanctuary and quietly asked, “Can I help you?” “Err…yes.” The man replied still stunned of the unknown occupant. “I was wondering if you knew anything of the girl in the attic who never comes out.” “Ahh…yes,” The old man began. “The girl in the attic. Come inside.”
The old man then guided the young man into his house, and as he looked around, the young man was taken aback at how lovely everything was. Beautiful Honeysuckles lied all around, their sweet aroma filling the small room. Sparkling china hung on the walls, and on the floor, a magnificently woven rug. “Please sit.” Said the old man, gesturing to a maroon plaited chair. Slowly sinking into the chair, the old man sat across and began to speak. “So you want to know about the girl in the attic.” Stated the old man. “I will tell you what I know. He heaved a great sigh, and plunged into the story he had never once told before. “Years ago I worked odd jobs for some of the townsfolk. One morning, I was chopping wood for the Miller family, when I saw a small shadow moving about the attic of the house across the street. I was stunned, for the townspeople had told me no one had lived there for decades. I must have sat there for minutes, just watching the shadow move back and forth and back and forth, as if it had no purpose at all. When I finished my work I quickly went inside to resolve what I had seen. “Were my eyes playing tricks on me?” Entering the house I abruptly asked Mr. Miller if anyone had moved into the house across the street recently. “No.” He replied. “No one has lived in that house for a very long time.” “That’s what I thought.” I replied back. “But as I was chopping wood I saw a figure of a woman walking about in the attic.” “Nonsense!” Mr. Miller bellowed. “There is no such person living in that house.” “But Mr. Miller,” I began, “I know what I saw!” “You saw nothing!” Roared Mr. Miller. “Do not speak of this again!” Slumping in his chair, Mr. Miller then quieted down, closed his eyes and began to speak again. “So much has happened in that house…so much. It is a place you do not wish to enter, nor look at. If you do, your curiosity will get the best of you, and you will lose yourself.” Mr. Miller then opened his eyes, and looked hard at me. “Promise me, you will never go into that house. Forget about it, pretend it does not exist.” I was too stunned to argue with him. I wondered what had happened there, and why I couldn’t pursue it. Nevertheless, Mr. Miller had been kind to me, and I knew he was a man of great intellect and wisdom. “I promise.” I reluctantly said. I then began to head out the door, but not before Mr. Miller gave me one final warning. “Break this promise, and you will never see daylight again.” His words haunted me all the way home, and today, I can still hear his voice, clear as day, cautioning me to never go near that house. And since that day, I haven’t. That’s why I live way out here you know. Away from the town, the stories, but most of all, from that house. I knew if I stayed close by my curiosity would get the best of me, and I would end up as Mr. Miller said I would.” The old man paused for a moment, letting his words sink into the young man. “Do you really think something would happen if you went inside that house?” The young man asked unconvincingly. “I don’t know.” The old man stated. “But I sure would not attempt to find out.” “Why not?” The young man persisted. “What if there is someone living there? Wouldn’t you want to see who it was, and see what they’re doing up there?” “Of course I would.” Said the old man. “But I made a promise to Mr. Miller, a promise I do not intend to break.” The old man then stood up, and slowly walked towards the young man. Putting his hands on his shoulders, the old man gently spoke. “Do as I did and not go near that house. When I was your age I did not understand why, but heed my warning: If you do, you will lose yourself, and you will never see daylight again.” The old man paused, and looked hard into the eyes of the young man who stood rigid before him. “You may have promised Mr. Miller you wouldn’t go near that house,” The young man began. “But I haven’t promised anything.” With that the young man curtly walked towards the door, eager to leave. As he began to turn the knob, he heard the old man’s voice for the final time. “You will lose yourself.” The young man did not look back, and the old man did not follow him. As he began the walk back home, the young man couldn’t believe how far the old man’s house was from the town. He felt like he had been walking for ages. Reaching his home, he tiredly entered and trudged up the worn steps to his bedroom. As he laid down for the night, he looked out the window and caught a glimpse of the barely visible house. An overwhelming feeling of wonder and mystery swept over him, and he longed to go to it, but he was simply too tired. “Rest,” He told himself. “Tomorrow I’ll find the girl in the attic.” He then closed his eyes and thought about the old house, and the occupant who lived inside. “What did she look like? Why did she never come out? Did she have a dark secret she was so ashamed of she could never show her face again?” The sound of chirping birds interrupted his thoughts, and as he opened his eyes the brightness of the sun blinded him, and quickly he turned away and rested his feet on the floor. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms, eager to awake and begin a new day. His stomach gurgled, and as he dressed himself his eyes rested on the window. The town was alive and active. He saw a little boy running and playing with his dog, a woman hanging laundry on the clothesline, men laughing as they conversed. The house-The house. He paused as he remembered. Today he was going to go inside. Today he was going to solve the mystery and finally know what was hiding there. Quickly he grabbed his coat off the bed and dashed down the stairs and out the door. He quickly headed towards the direction of the house, only stopping to talk to a passing neighbor who asked how he was liking the place.
As he neared the house, his excitement grew, and was overcome with such joy he smiled. This was going to be the best day of his life. He was sure of it. He paused only for a moment before taking the first step onto the porch. He rested his hand on the rust coated handle, and hesitated. He began thinking about what the old man said, and wondered if he should listen to him. “Nonsense.” He told himself. “He’s just a crazy fool,” And he swiftly opened the door.
Darkness engulfed the room, and it was quiet. Very quiet. He cautiously stepped inside, and the smell of dust and rot filled his nostrils. He looked about the room and saw nothing. No furniture, decorations, or picture frames of any kind. Just blank walls and empty floors. His eyes rested on the staircase, and he grasped the banister as he ascended upward. With each heavy step the stairs creaked, and he began to wonder if there even was anyone living here. As he approached the top, he noticed another flight of stairs leading to one thing: the attic. He promptly began up those steps, and imagined what he would find. His mind began to wander as he thought about the stories the townspeople told. Of the girl in the attic who never came out. The stairs finally ended, and right in front of him was the attic door. The door that would unleash all the secrets this house held. His heart began to beat faster and faster as he turned the knob, and he took a deep breath as he swung it open. His eyes beheld the room before him. It too was empty, just like the rest of the house. He noticed the window at the opposite wall, and calmly walked over to it. Boards were hung in it’s place, blocking out the daylight and the world. He pulled, but they did not come off. He pulled with all his strength, but still they did not budge. He began to search for any nails that could have held the boards in place with such force, but he did not find any. Puzzled, he could not come to any conclusion as to why the boards would not move. Suddenly the hair on his neck stood up, and he felt as if someone was watching him. Spinning around he wildly searched the room, but saw nothing. Turning his attention to the window again, he saw a tiny film of light trying desperately to make it’s way into the room, but with no success. Suddenly the old man’s voice appeared inside his head, and a sickening chill ran up his spine as he heard, “You will never see daylight again.” The young man became angry with himself for not listening to the old man, and quickly he decided he was going to leave and never come back, but only after the attic door quietly closed behind him.
There’s an old story, about a man in the attic who never comes out. Some of the townsfolk know of the man, and some were even curious enough to climb the vines up to the window in hopes of getting a glimpse of the infamous dweller. But no one has ever succeeded. If you go to the town, you will find those who claim they have seen him from time to time, walking back and forth and back and forth seemingly with no purpose at all, and if you go to the tree-hidden house just a few miles from the town, you will find an old man with a warning.
One morning, a young man moved into the town. He had come for new work, but for him that was only half of the story. Escaping from his past, he was eager to start afresh. All the day he heard the townsfolk talking of the girl who lived in the attic, and the more he heard, the more his curiosity grew. He became so enthralled with the stories, he desperately wandered to find someone who knew her. So he went, knocked on every door, and stopped every townsperson who fortunately came his way. To his despair, no one had any news on the girl in the attic, or how she came to be. He slowly started the walk back home, seemingly upset about how little he knew. Lost in thought, he did not notice he was wandering off from town. As he trudged up a hill, he noticed something he did not before. A little house, almost hidden by trees and shrubs, and so old it looked as if it had not been occupied for quite some time. He knew it was late and he was far too tired to walk any further, but something was pulling him towards the house, beckoning him to come closer. Approaching the door, he slowly knocked and waited, doubtful anyone would answer. To his surprise, someone did. An old man, with a rugged beard and faded clothes. He stepped solemnly out of his sanctuary and quietly asked, “Can I help you?” “Err…yes.” The man replied still stunned of the unknown occupant. “I was wondering if you knew anything of the girl in the attic who never comes out.” “Ahh…yes,” The old man began. “The girl in the attic. Come inside.”
The old man then guided the young man into his house, and as he looked around, the young man was taken aback at how lovely everything was. Beautiful Honeysuckles lied all around, their sweet aroma filling the small room. Sparkling china hung on the walls, and on the floor, a magnificently woven rug. “Please sit.” Said the old man, gesturing to a maroon plaited chair. Slowly sinking into the chair, the old man sat across and began to speak. “So you want to know about the girl in the attic.” Stated the old man. “I will tell you what I know. He heaved a great sigh, and plunged into the story he had never once told before. “Years ago I worked odd jobs for some of the townsfolk. One morning, I was chopping wood for the Miller family, when I saw a small shadow moving about the attic of the house across the street. I was stunned, for the townspeople had told me no one had lived there for decades. I must have sat there for minutes, just watching the shadow move back and forth and back and forth, as if it had no purpose at all. When I finished my work I quickly went inside to resolve what I had seen. “Were my eyes playing tricks on me?” Entering the house I abruptly asked Mr. Miller if anyone had moved into the house across the street recently. “No.” He replied. “No one has lived in that house for a very long time.” “That’s what I thought.” I replied back. “But as I was chopping wood I saw a figure of a woman walking about in the attic.” “Nonsense!” Mr. Miller bellowed. “There is no such person living in that house.” “But Mr. Miller,” I began, “I know what I saw!” “You saw nothing!” Roared Mr. Miller. “Do not speak of this again!” Slumping in his chair, Mr. Miller then quieted down, closed his eyes and began to speak again. “So much has happened in that house…so much. It is a place you do not wish to enter, nor look at. If you do, your curiosity will get the best of you, and you will lose yourself.” Mr. Miller then opened his eyes, and looked hard at me. “Promise me, you will never go into that house. Forget about it, pretend it does not exist.” I was too stunned to argue with him. I wondered what had happened there, and why I couldn’t pursue it. Nevertheless, Mr. Miller had been kind to me, and I knew he was a man of great intellect and wisdom. “I promise.” I reluctantly said. I then began to head out the door, but not before Mr. Miller gave me one final warning. “Break this promise, and you will never see daylight again.” His words haunted me all the way home, and today, I can still hear his voice, clear as day, cautioning me to never go near that house. And since that day, I haven’t. That’s why I live way out here you know. Away from the town, the stories, but most of all, from that house. I knew if I stayed close by my curiosity would get the best of me, and I would end up as Mr. Miller said I would.” The old man paused for a moment, letting his words sink into the young man. “Do you really think something would happen if you went inside that house?” The young man asked unconvincingly. “I don’t know.” The old man stated. “But I sure would not attempt to find out.” “Why not?” The young man persisted. “What if there is someone living there? Wouldn’t you want to see who it was, and see what they’re doing up there?” “Of course I would.” Said the old man. “But I made a promise to Mr. Miller, a promise I do not intend to break.” The old man then stood up, and slowly walked towards the young man. Putting his hands on his shoulders, the old man gently spoke. “Do as I did and not go near that house. When I was your age I did not understand why, but heed my warning: If you do, you will lose yourself, and you will never see daylight again.” The old man paused, and looked hard into the eyes of the young man who stood rigid before him. “You may have promised Mr. Miller you wouldn’t go near that house,” The young man began. “But I haven’t promised anything.” With that the young man curtly walked towards the door, eager to leave. As he began to turn the knob, he heard the old man’s voice for the final time. “You will lose yourself.” The young man did not look back, and the old man did not follow him. As he began the walk back home, the young man couldn’t believe how far the old man’s house was from the town. He felt like he had been walking for ages. Reaching his home, he tiredly entered and trudged up the worn steps to his bedroom. As he laid down for the night, he looked out the window and caught a glimpse of the barely visible house. An overwhelming feeling of wonder and mystery swept over him, and he longed to go to it, but he was simply too tired. “Rest,” He told himself. “Tomorrow I’ll find the girl in the attic.” He then closed his eyes and thought about the old house, and the occupant who lived inside. “What did she look like? Why did she never come out? Did she have a dark secret she was so ashamed of she could never show her face again?” The sound of chirping birds interrupted his thoughts, and as he opened his eyes the brightness of the sun blinded him, and quickly he turned away and rested his feet on the floor. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms, eager to awake and begin a new day. His stomach gurgled, and as he dressed himself his eyes rested on the window. The town was alive and active. He saw a little boy running and playing with his dog, a woman hanging laundry on the clothesline, men laughing as they conversed. The house-The house. He paused as he remembered. Today he was going to go inside. Today he was going to solve the mystery and finally know what was hiding there. Quickly he grabbed his coat off the bed and dashed down the stairs and out the door. He quickly headed towards the direction of the house, only stopping to talk to a passing neighbor who asked how he was liking the place.
As he neared the house, his excitement grew, and was overcome with such joy he smiled. This was going to be the best day of his life. He was sure of it. He paused only for a moment before taking the first step onto the porch. He rested his hand on the rust coated handle, and hesitated. He began thinking about what the old man said, and wondered if he should listen to him. “Nonsense.” He told himself. “He’s just a crazy fool,” And he swiftly opened the door.
Darkness engulfed the room, and it was quiet. Very quiet. He cautiously stepped inside, and the smell of dust and rot filled his nostrils. He looked about the room and saw nothing. No furniture, decorations, or picture frames of any kind. Just blank walls and empty floors. His eyes rested on the staircase, and he grasped the banister as he ascended upward. With each heavy step the stairs creaked, and he began to wonder if there even was anyone living here. As he approached the top, he noticed another flight of stairs leading to one thing: the attic. He promptly began up those steps, and imagined what he would find. His mind began to wander as he thought about the stories the townspeople told. Of the girl in the attic who never came out. The stairs finally ended, and right in front of him was the attic door. The door that would unleash all the secrets this house held. His heart began to beat faster and faster as he turned the knob, and he took a deep breath as he swung it open. His eyes beheld the room before him. It too was empty, just like the rest of the house. He noticed the window at the opposite wall, and calmly walked over to it. Boards were hung in it’s place, blocking out the daylight and the world. He pulled, but they did not come off. He pulled with all his strength, but still they did not budge. He began to search for any nails that could have held the boards in place with such force, but he did not find any. Puzzled, he could not come to any conclusion as to why the boards would not move. Suddenly the hair on his neck stood up, and he felt as if someone was watching him. Spinning around he wildly searched the room, but saw nothing. Turning his attention to the window again, he saw a tiny film of light trying desperately to make it’s way into the room, but with no success. Suddenly the old man’s voice appeared inside his head, and a sickening chill ran up his spine as he heard, “You will never see daylight again.” The young man became angry with himself for not listening to the old man, and quickly he decided he was going to leave and never come back, but only after the attic door quietly closed behind him.
There’s an old story, about a man in the attic who never comes out. Some of the townsfolk know of the man, and some were even curious enough to climb the vines up to the window in hopes of getting a glimpse of the infamous dweller. But no one has ever succeeded. If you go to the town, you will find those who claim they have seen him from time to time, walking back and forth and back and forth seemingly with no purpose at all, and if you go to the tree-hidden house just a few miles from the town, you will find an old man with a warning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)