tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-165272162024-03-14T00:17:48.899-05:00be still, my thoughtswritings, poetry, short stories~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-37424973052584554312010-09-15T05:59:00.002-05:002010-09-15T06:14:26.502-05:00Diagnostic Essay - #1English 102 – First essay (fastwrite, then rewrite), Diagnostic - Theme: Something Important for You to Know about Me.~+~+~Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a Social Worker. As a young girl, I had compassion for people and wanted to do anything I could to help out. I was dissuaded from pursuing Social Work as a vocation by my mother because she felt I would end up "adopting ten ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-84679464878571741912008-01-23T05:39:00.000-05:002008-01-23T05:41:34.376-05:00mickyagain and again, you return to spew.you are unkind and while you think you are doing something that will save the world, you are not. i cannot believe i had to install haloscan on a blog i have had for two years - just so i could block you.how pathetic you are!this was a little safe haven for me, simply to post stories i had written and poetry that i love and people left me nice little comments,~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-53425361300354248522008-01-05T05:15:00.000-05:002008-01-06T07:26:33.985-05:00"I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again. My life seems to stop there, I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I were dissolving. I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion... I have shudder'd at it... I shudder no more. I could be martyr'd for my religion: Love is my religion. I could die~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-66637339637381537002008-01-04T15:54:00.000-05:002008-01-06T07:27:42.351-05:00somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyondany experience,your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look will easily unclose methough i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first roseor if your wish be to ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-66604554750395040002007-12-15T14:01:00.001-05:002007-12-15T14:01:12.069-05:00Anberlin - The Hauntingtesting~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-75105217118565372772007-11-20T19:44:00.001-05:002007-11-20T19:44:53.874-05:00from Oscar WildeHe must have a truly romantic nature, for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about.~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-13541910311266326692007-11-18T16:09:00.000-05:002007-11-18T16:28:21.476-05:00zoned, out.once floating,nowpierced, rushedforced out of comfortzone.thoughts continue tomyself and from,uncontrolled.i thought you cared?you really do notyour letters, while they seemed personalprivateintimate?were notas they were sentto othersas welljust a fool(pick a number)an addressand apparentlypossessing anunrecoveredheart.twice pierced,i should just floatrush,force myselfout.away.(there was not much~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-59326712880093688692007-05-03T18:20:00.000-05:002007-10-13T14:41:53.663-05:00there is always something in the eyesdeep, involvedtumultousyou could miss it if you blinkedthere, beneath the surfacea tempesta tornado, you saidhow can you see that?how can you, you don't know me?yet you saw it,you see itit is there, it existsas if the world has stopped turningyou keep it spinningwhile i remain caged~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-22454219741394511192007-03-12T19:08:00.000-05:002007-10-13T14:42:16.793-05:00the days when i am strong, i am very strong. the days i can stay away, reaching out is not an option. the strength that comes from within is sturdy, steadfast, immobile.there are times -- momentary lapses of reason, i suppose -- when the urge to reach for my...have been so strong, so overwhelming, it is a miracle i can stand up.how do addicts do this? how do they face their demons head-on and ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-22550567204279762052007-01-27T13:01:00.000-05:002007-11-18T16:07:20.678-05:00are you listening?As I peered out through the dirt- and rain-smeared windows at the tenement housing and the litter-strewn streets, I wondered to myself where the people were who cared even minimally and whether nurturing one's home was a foreign thought.Or if they were incapable of doing anything about it, not through any fault of their own, but because someone or some system had let them down. not one soul ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-63012975804303276332007-01-14T12:08:00.000-05:002007-01-14T13:37:51.561-05:00pleasei hear God does not give you more than you can handlei consider that to be an untruthofficially on overwhelmam struggling with my faithmy religionmy thoughts rambleam disconnectedthank you God for at leastlistening to the prayers of my friendswhy do You not respond to me?You are silent and have remained thuslyfor months with me nowis this a confession?might behave been attending a different ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-3702126840058406382007-01-06T17:48:00.000-05:002007-01-06T18:04:43.000-05:00willowwondering, waivering, wishingprayingweeping willowwhile i should be in the midst of rejoicing,my heart still is achingthe strain i am under isat timesunbearable.my arms, desiring to reach uptoward Youinstead, sagging downtoward the ground(weeping willow)the weight in my heartis almost too much to bearthe pruning i am under,too much of a strainbut You trust in me.why?i have failed You time and ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-90916395627166604442007-01-04T16:45:00.000-05:002007-01-05T01:49:37.231-05:00victim soulif i could breathe for you,i would.if i could take on your suffering,it would be mine to receive,gratefully.i sit bedside and watch you, trusting inGod's mercy.i remain silent in prayer as you sleep, beseechingHis grace.it is felt deep within that youare not far from the Cross and that you,my dear mother,are sharing in His very suffering.i solemnly aver, dear one, thati would become your personal~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-24321311737457688302007-01-04T07:03:00.000-05:002007-01-05T01:48:25.048-05:00lint.tossed around, tumblinglowall secrets, beingextracted.gathering in the same place,softly staying togetherstrong, unifieddefiant.yet in one swift movement,they are gathered togethercollectivelycarelessly, thrown.until a new amount begins to gather,and the cycle starts anew.~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-44574127654554849292007-01-03T08:34:00.000-05:002007-01-03T08:42:49.803-05:00i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)i am never without it (anywherei go you go, my dear; and whatever is doneby only me is your doing, my darling) i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)and it's you are whatever a moon has always meantand whatever a sun will always sing is youhere is ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-37021616168030614372006-12-18T06:43:00.000-05:002006-12-18T06:56:27.671-05:00missingshe was sitting on the bus, staring out the window as they were leaving the City, her daughter with her new-found friends a few rows behind her. she gazed out the window at the different scenes they passed by: the *artsy* restaurants with people sitting at white linened tables with candles lit, eating window-side as folks hurried past; the various storefronts decorated for the holidays. ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1155932550938610262006-08-18T15:22:00.000-05:002006-08-18T15:34:17.026-05:00RingsMy mother, who lives with my brother and his family, comes to stay at our humble abode on occasions when my sister-in-law's brother visits from Virginia. We enjoy her company and, truth be told, I am sure she relishes the break in her routine. Last evening over a glass of old vine red zin, we sat and talked about Ben's engagement to Kelly and how the wedding has been set for 07/07/07 (!!) ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1130054549759081372005-10-23T03:02:00.000-05:002005-10-25T18:11:24.893-05:00Defiine: Tacky During the summertimes of my formative years, my sister and I and our three brothers were regularly required to go on Sunday drives with my stepfather. In these early morning, jaunts, just as the sun had come, Dad would tumble us all into the back of the station wagon: we, mumbling and groaning all the while, he, looking forward to the drive from Ocean City to the “country” I now recognize ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1128888159253595662005-10-11T18:26:00.000-05:002005-10-11T03:28:11.206-05:00essay #3 - narrative essay - things are not always as they seemI was standing by the Café's cash register when he walked through the front door to place what I thought would be a take-out order. I had never seen him before, but I was struck with the overwhelming sense that someday, in some fashion, this man would work for me. So, I was a bit taken aback when he said, moments later, "You need help here?" He had a slight southern drawl to his voice. "I can do ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1128473314982389302005-10-04T19:47:00.000-05:002005-10-04T19:49:32.073-05:00my first essay gradewas an "A." only minor changes, grammatical ones at that, i have a thing for semicolons. i am now wondering if there is a 12-step program for folks like me?husband posted paper on the fridge for all to see. stop by and look on the fridge but not in it. am uncertain if there is a science experiment starting up...next assignment due on tuesday. it'll be here maybe by monday night :)~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1126225958827114992005-09-08T19:16:00.000-05:002005-09-09T05:46:07.120-05:00essay #2 - detailslesson on being descriptive (beginnings of...) - it's in the detailsinstructions: go outside, study something (anything) for ten minutes and come back in and write a paragraph. total time: 20 minutes.start/my subject wheeled himself out of the building to take a break from his studies. i watched as he carefully made his way to the recycling container with his empty poland spring water bottle - ~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1126224615947956722005-09-08T19:03:00.000-05:002005-09-09T05:45:15.206-05:00essay #1 - diagnosticthis was to see where we *were* as writers...question: why are you attending this college? 15-minute time framestart/with eager anticipation in the fall of 2004, i signed up for and attended two college-level courses -- one was english composition 101 and the other, algebra I. it had been several years since i had taken any formal math course, but it was a class i was actually looking forward to.~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16527216.post-1126223122747637762005-09-08T18:43:00.000-05:002005-10-19T15:46:21.806-05:00why another blog?this is my blog to put my essays i have to write for the college course i am taking. i don't want to add these to my martha blog because of their length. it's really just my journal for school writings.this is entry #1 so i can alter my blog look, i probably won't be posting pictures alongside like i do with my other blogs. reason behind that is i want the words to speak for themselves.peace.~pen~http://www.blogger.com/profile/07822146312033633535noreply@blogger.com1