With You

Shift for the better or for the worse,

I'm not sure, but I'm doing it.

I want to make this work

Forever if I can,

It's just different than anything

I've ever done before.

Commitment:

It's something that I guess I've

Always been afraid of.

I like it when it's easy to

Run away.

I like it when I'm free.

But I also love how I feel safe

In your arms.

So, I'm going to stay.

I want to stay.

I just wish doubt wasn't so

Pervasive.

My pride is the root of many of

My fears.

I wish I didn't care so much

About appearances

And about reputations;

It's one of my most

Vicious vices.

I hope that it's one I can

Overcome,

With you.

I can't see God's plan,

But I can rest in knowing

That He knows what He's doing.

I wish forever wasn't so

Far away,

So I could see how we turn out.

But I will wait

With you.

I will stay

With you.

Because I'm in love

With you.

Truth

March 30, 2008

If only the truth could be revealed in a bold flash of lightning, the answer written out in silver-lined clouds. If only things were not so mysterious.

But there is beauty in mystery. That which is so hard to find is worth the journey to seek it.

Cloudy

Rain.

I wish I could say it was happy rain.

But it's not.

I don't want to give up on this,

but it's getting harder to see the sun.

Darn clouds.

Just Not Today

Sometimes, quiet is good.

There are times when a lot is too much.
I understand,
I hope you do too.
 
Alone is something that often escapes.
Company flows into
surrounded, flows into
smothered.
But this is in no way goodbye.
This is in no way bad.
You have yours, and I have mine.
 
Passion cannot sustain us;
we need slow growth, steady growth.
 
I hope that we never have to say never.
I hope that we'll be able to say forever.
 
I want to be able to say that I love you.
But for now, I only have love for you,
I am not IN love... yet.
I want to love you,
I wish I did.
 
And I wish that you'd love me too.
But I don't think you do.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Maybe someday...
 
just not today.
 
As hard as I am trying,
I can't push you into love with me,
I just have to let you fall.
And I will fall with you.
 
And when we reach the bottom,
we can catch each other
and never let go.  

Don't Let Go

To my Lambchop :)

Whenever a tiny grain of doubt

lodges in my mind,

when fears tickle my heart,

here you come to clear it all away.

Chase off any unsure thought,

any frightened inclination.

When my terrified heart

looks for a reason to condemn,

for a reason to walk away,

you wash it in comforting

and concern

and love.

My heart is full.

I never want to lose the feeling

I have when you're holding me.

I never want to forget

the excitement of starting this

adventure with you.

Don't let me forget.

Don't let me go.

Pull me close and hold me tight,

because I

never

want to let go.

Because I Need To

Fallen away.

Gone.

What was there

isn't anymore.

How it was

isn't anymore.

The rain falls softly.

The sharp taste of sobs

held back

in heaves of hidden sorrow.

The end of the clouds

is far away.

For now.

But winds change quickly.

Hurricane.

Tropical storm.

Simple rain clouds.

All fill the world with a dreary

haze

of gray and cool.

Pain

hidden well

beneath a baseball cap

and the feign of fatigue.

Weeping,

not only from pure sorrow,

but also from fear.

Crying to feel something

other

than confusion

or haste

or panic.

Crying

for the sake of pity.

Crying for the

joy of pain,

for the comfort

of sadness.

Tears just because

I need to.

Two in the Morning

May 2008 Creative Writing

The momentary rush of excitement

splashes over me like

water on a thirsty fire.

 

I’m filled with flames of curiosity and

the need for social fulfillment.

 

It may be two in the morning,

and I do need to get up at six,

but if there was a delicious slice of

chocolate cake within arm’s reach,

wouldn’t you eat it?

 

Just a quick peek.

Any messages?

Any new wall posts?

Click. Click.

No? Okay, well, any new pictures?

No?

 

Facebook,

you’re a slimy leech.

Hand me the salt.

Empty Hands

May 2008 Creative Writing

Both hands are hanging

empty

at my sides.

My steps are quick and purposeful:

Just get to class.

 

My enviously green eyes catch

cuddles

and nuzzles

and other things I don’t have.

 

It seems like every other hand in the world

has someone else’s in it.

Every finger woven into a safe embrace

 

except mine.

 

The only things my hands hold

are pencils during the day and my

wet face at night.

Gauche

May 2008 Creative Writing

Crap! Look who’s walking this way.

 

Everyone at the table

SHIFTED in their seats.

Stiff necks and scrambling hands

frantically searching for something,

anything to keep him

away.

 

If I can just open my Math book,

his grimy eyes could slide over me

and onto someone else instead.

 

With the same thought in each mind

it might have appeared that the

flat, sticky toll of the bell had already rung

and everyone was just off to class.

But that would have been too convenient.

 

The voice of the unfortunate victim

was coated with a curious

pseudo-friendly slime.

But this was the sweetest of chocolate syrup

when compared to the awkward goop that

flowed so profusely

from this poor excuse for a high schooler.

A Confused Rant

Okay, so I really just need to rant a little right now. I am feeling rather lost and confused this evening, and I don't know why. It seems like there are just a lot of unresolved issues and dilemmas that I am facing right now. I feel a little hopeless, but I know that I need to trust in the only one who can make everything alright. I need to put my hope where it belongs: God's hands. He's the only one who can "pick up the broken pieces of my heart and put me back together."

So, yeah. That feels a little better :)

The Dandelion Theory

Some thoughts on weeds and grass April 2008

Sinful thoughts are like dandelions. The seeds float in and land in your yard (mind). They can then proceed to sprout and grow and choke out the grass (godly thoughts). If allowed to fester long enough, they will sprout more seeds, which can either spread to other parts of your yard or even to someone else’s yard. The dandelions try to steal water (Christ) and sunlight (Abba God) from the yard.
However, God’s Word is like Weed & Feed. It fights off the dandelions and nourishes the grass. Then, the grass can eventually sprout its own seeds that will also spread.

Flight Check – A Few Rules for Air Travel

Written for Creative Writing April 2008

Most of us have experienced the joys of airport travel: the sound of rolling luggage wheels clicking on the tile, the smell of fast food and industrial strength cleaning products, and the Starbucks just down the hall from the Starbucks. Traveling by plane has the very real potential of being one of the worst things you will ever have to live through. Never mind the lost baggage and delayed flights, most of the time it’s the other passengers that make it all so miserable.

In my own travels, I have been surrounded by cranky babies, alarmed by creepy weirdoes, and stuck in between a really fat man and a skinny homosexual. I have also had a friend who was seated next to man who was acting so suspiciously she thought he was a terrorist!

You can meet some very strange people on airplanes, and while some aspects of these interactions can’t be helped, here are some rules that we can all follow in an attempt to make air travel a more pleasant experience:

1. Assume that everyone is in the same rush that you are. Just because you’re running late for your flight, doesn’t mean that you deserve any shortcuts. There are hundreds of other people all around you who are late too, so just stay calm, don’t push or shove, and don’t snap at or give dirty looks to the slow people.

2. Don’t move other people’s stuff in the overhead bins. It’s not yours, so don’t touch it! I have personally witnessed this rule being broken. I was boarding a flight and, first of all, this guy totally cut me in line (see rule 1). Then, when he got to his row, he reached up to the overhead bin and proceeded to rearrange all of the belongings of the woman already seated there! I watched in utter shock as the woman became so vexed that she got up and moved her things out of his way just to be done with him. I felt sorry that she had to sit next to this moron the whole flight. I would have made sure to get up at least half a dozen times during that trip!

3. And that leads us to the next rule: unless you are trying to piss someone off, don’t keep getting up during the flight. Not only does this cause problems for the people you have to climb over, it can interfere with the flight crew as well. They’re always pushing those carts down the aisles, so they really don’t need a bunch of people wandering around unnecessarily. If you need to get up once or twice, that’s fine and people will be glad to clear a path for you. But when you need to leave your seat every half hour, you really should have booked an aisle seat.

4. Don’t make conversation with people who have that bewildered or extremely annoyed look in their eyes. They don’t want to talk to you, so shut up!

5. Make sure you don’t smell. Shower, wear deodorant, brush your teeth, and don’t wear too much perfume or cologne. No one wants to be stuck sitting next to someone who smells too strongly of anything. And besides, some people are allergic to perfumes. Just be considerate of your fellow passengers’ noses.

6. Don’t make any loud or repetitive noises. Turn down your headphones, don’t tap your fingernails on your tray table, and KEEP YOUR KID QUIET! This is, perhaps, the rule that is most often broken; it has become the cliché pet peeve of air travel.

Although it is impossible to keep completely silent, I don’t think it’s that difficult to keep noise to a bearable minimum. I was once stuck sitting in front of some little kid that kept making noise and bumping my seat. All I wanted was to take a nice nap during the flight, but no! My snoozing was constantly interrupted by thumps and whimpers. I tried to send the tyke some subtle hints by shifting in my seat and giving a random bump back, but my efforts were to no avail. I was seriously about to turn around and beat the little twerp.

So, please, just get your kids to sit still and quiet; I don’t care if you have to drug them or deprive them of sleep the night before, I want some peace!

7. The cabin space is shared space. Keep all belongings and appendages out of other people’s way. If you need more room, fly first class.


I hope that you will take these simple guidelines to heart the next time you fly. If we work together, we can make air travel a bit more pleasant for everyone. It’s not that hard; basically, just be considerate of the other travelers on your flight. If you’re nice to them, they’ll at least leave you alone.


Thank you for flying with us!

You Are My Cheeseburger

Practice College Admissions Essay
Written for Advanced Composition October 11, 2007

Discuss an important personal relationship you have had and explain how it has changed your life.

The cheeseburger I ate for lunch, a poem I wrote in fifth grade, my bedroom: all these things are part of what I am. However, they are not who I am. The food I eat, the work I produce, and the environments I create do not begin to describe, outline, or explain the complex conglomeration of compounds that compose my being. I am more than beef, ink, and paint.

I suppose the best way to discover the truth of my existence is to examine the relationships I have with those who are closest to me. A prime example: my sister, Victoria. She is two years and four months older than I am. She is shorter, more fair skinned, and curvier than I. She is bossy, loud, clueless, and occasionally obnoxious. I love her more than I love any other person on the planet. She is my best friend, my closest confidante, and my biggest fan. We can talk for hours and hours and hours. We can discuss any topic in detail, no matter how disturbing or distressing. She and I argue a lot, but we’re usually on the same side; our debates are like entries in a verbal slam book on the subjects of our choice. My sister is the biggest investment I have made in my life, and the profit has been immense. She makes it worth my while.

Life with Victoria isn’t always so peachy, though. We have our disagreements, but we learned a long time ago that it is by no means worth the time or effort to hold a grudge. We love each other too much to prolong the suffering of a fight.

“Why can’t you just do me a favor?” Victoria tries to make it seem so simple and obvious, really she’s just trying to send me on a guilt trip.

“It’s not my responsibility, why should I have to? I shouldn’t have to spend my time doing this.” I’ve made up my mind already; I’m not going on any trips right now. Though superficial, the disagreement hurts both of us. However, the pain doesn’t last long: an hour later, we’re watching a movie together and laughing like a couple babies being tickled.

There’s a lot of messy business in our lives that leads to harsh words, but we have recovered from each situation. Forgiveness is the soap that washes our relationship’s dirty hands. We wash those hands a lot.

My hands would be pretty filthy if I didn’t have a sister. Disputes with friends would be uglier and last longer. Thinking about it now, I have never had a major fight with any friend. The only unkind words exchanged are those of minor disagreements or misunderstandings. The strength of my relationship with Victoria and the understanding between us has acted as a buffer for the grievances of interactions with other people. It has stopped me – I’m sure – from hurting the people I love. The long-term lesson of forgiveness has helped lead me down the path towards maturity; it has helped all my other relationships grow deeper and remain healthier.

My sister is much more than a cheeseburger; she’s part of who I am, in a very big way.

Silence

January 2004

The sound of silence is deafening.
Not a whisper, not a tap.
Not even the sound of the wind
Or the beat of a heart.

The sound of silence is maddening.
You cannot bring your voice
To break the crystal stillness.
With no sound at all, you cannot think.

The sound of silence is frightening.
You dare not move or make a sound,
Lest you break this pane of glass
And send the shards into your mind.

The sound of silence is beautiful.
You can finally love the peace
Your other senses take control:

You smell a rose from miles away,
You see a chameleon, even in its disguise,
You feel a ladybug resting on your finger,
You taste the ice cream sundae that you had tomorrow.

Now you know
That silence can be broken.
But now,
You don't want to be the one to shatter it.

Questions of the Flowers

January 2004

Do flowers bloom more happily
When they are outside?
In the sunlight and the moonlight,
In total freedom, but all alone?
With no one to water them,
Talk to them,
Or care for them?

Or can they be happy indoors?
In pots and planters,
Confined, not free?
But they get the love and devotion they need.

Will the answers to these questions ever come along?
Will we ever figure out where flowers truly belong?

Judgment

December 2003

As the king looked out upon the land,
All he saw was wind and sand.
No one thought that this could be
A place turned into majesty.

But this is what it became,
Never again will it be the same.
This grand kingdom has risen to the top,
And its prosperity, no one can stop.

Those who brought hasty judgment
Had no imagination, and their ambitions were bent.

So, do not rush, you must be wise.
For if you do not realize,
All you'll be left with in your hand
Is nothing but the wind and sand.

One Star in the Sky

From sometime in middle school

In this world of shallow beings,
We’re all forced to follow.
Choices are no longer ours,
Things we say are cold and hollow.
Fitting in is overrated.
Saying things that we don’t mean,
Just to get ahead.
Never who we are, only as we’re seen.
Why can’t we be happy,
With what we’ve been given?
We’re constantly running,
Towards where we are driven.
Can’t we all just break away?
Go on our own,
Tread the path,
That’s not paved with stone?
We must no t all be followers,
For we would have no leader.
If things were always spoken,
Who would be the reader?
We cannot all just blend in,
Disappear among the crowd,
We are all different,
And we should shout it loud.
So do not be afraid,
Of being who you are,
For if you will just be yourself,
You can be a star.

The Rain

From 8th grade... I think

Rain.
It falls,
Slowly down.
Pulled to earth,
Spiraling endlessly,
Like tears from heaven.
Landing on the pleasant joys,
Turning them into sorrows.
Washing away my heartaches.
For me the rain is sweet and cool.
I love the rain, it makes me happy.
The rain makes new life grow,
And it lets me start over.
The rain is so calming.
And so beautiful.
I love it.

The Real Pledge of Allegiance

I pledge allegiance to the God of the whole, entire universe.
And to the Son, and Holy Spirit,
One Trinity, over all, indivisible, with love and mercy for all.
Amen.

Streaming Secrets

October 2005

The stream is quiet and calm,
Gently flowing, slowly rolling.
The troubles of the past
Are no more seen or heard,
Hidden in the ripples,
Of this graceful sapphire ribbon.

Teach me, oh ribbon,
Thy closest guarded secrets.
Teach me how I might forget
The troubles that hath plagued me.

Thy waters flow so smoothly
Down their chosen path,
Not wond’ring where they’re headed,
Not wond’ring where they’re going,
Only pressing onward
Like the waters of the past.

So confident art thou,
Not afraid of what’s to come,
Always looking forward
And never looking back.

Even when thy future
Looks bleak and full of storms,
You, oh ribbon, go forth with determination.
You know that you shall one day
Return unto this place,
To teach me once againThe secrets you hold close.

H2OME

March 2006

The August sun was shining brightly while a light breeze danced across Ann’s face. She swam farther out into the gently rolling waves of the ocean. The sea was full of wondrous things, each unique and beautiful. She wondered how far the ocean went, when did it end? There was so much to explore, so much to understand.
Such power lay deep inside the sea, and yet so many things held power over it. The moon caused it to ebb and flow, the sun’s glittering rays warmed the waves, and the great winds ravaged its surface. And still it remains. Throughout the storms and the turbulence, the ocean always felt like home to Ann. She was constantly drawn to it, whether to watch the rain make ripples on its face, or to see the dolphins leap high out of the water. She remembered all the times that the sea had made her feel safe, but she also remembered the time that it had scared her.
The storm had built up over those few hours, each moment the horizon grew darker and darker. The wind battered the water, making the waves bash the shore like whips of cruelty. It was as if the ocean wanted to defy its borders, to go beyond the beaches that held it back. Ann had seen this, and she was scared. She saw her beloved ocean grow into a terrible thing, something that she couldn’t control. But the terror that gripped her was gone as soon as she saw the first beams of sunlight break through the thick black clouds. The sun made the ocean seem calm and happy. The rays played on the surface like butterflies around a flower in bloom. The warmth comforted the ocean, and it comforted Ann. Without the sun, the ocean would be dark and cold, it wouldn’t be the home that Ann knew it was.

This Journey

May 2007

The path winds farther behind than in front;
Progress has been made.
I have come from far away, through seeking have I come.
When I first started,
I remember it now,
I could not bring myself to forsake any rule,
No matter how small.
The format was chosen,
The colors picked out,
And I was happy to stay in the lines.
But after a while, I grew tired of this.
Only doing exactly what I was told.
Some freedom was found
In picking out details.
Adding some touches that could hardly be noticed.
But in that was progress, no matter how slight.
Moving on from this state
Was a little bit harder.
I had to choose the format myself.
Pick out what you’d like to do;
At least I had a list,
I wasn’t making it up by myself,
Someone was giving me options.
But still I walked on,
Developing my thinking.
And here am I now.
I can do what I like,
But here’s the catch:
Will everyone else like it?
That is the question
That yet plagues my mind.
I can’t let it go, can’t leave it behind.
Although I’ve come very far,
There’s still the hardest part to go.
I must refuse to be limited
By the opinions of others.
Don’t worry about what he will think,
Forget about what she will say.
Easier said than done,
But I must try.
This one last obstacle remains in my path.
To overcome will complete
This journey I’ve been on.

Empty Shells

Position Paper
Written for Advanced Composition November 2007

It’s a bit after ten o’clock, and I’m just starting my Government assignment. I’ve already been doing homework for four hours, not counting the hour I spent eating dinner. This is not an abnormal occurrence; I often spend four to five hours a night on schoolwork. Between assignments, my mind races with thoughts of I’ll never get all this done. I really need to get to bed; I’m so exhausted. When I finally finish – or give up – I lay in my bed: wide awake. The homework adrenaline is still pulsing through my body, keeping me from finding sweet sleep. The next morning I wake to the screeching of my alarm, feeling like I had only slept for a few seconds. I drag myself to my feet and push myself through the day, nodding off once or twice in Chemistry or Economics. When I get home, the process starts once again. By the end of the week, I’m completely burned out. I know I am not the only teenager who has a similarly stressful existence; most of the kids in my high school have just as much on their plates as I do. So, why are teens so stressed? Who is setting such high expectations? What is driving kids to accomplish so much? What are the consequences?
Teens today are not only pressured with homework and projects, but they must consider many other concerns. Colleges, jobs, and sports all weigh heavily on the minds of students. Balancing all of these stressors can be quite a monumental task, and comes at a price.
When searching for the root of teen stress, homework is an obvious suspect. Some students may spend more than six hours on school assignments, five to six days a week. Are teachers assigning too much homework? Most kids would answer with an exasperated “Yes.” Students spend up to eight hours, five days a week in classes, not to mention extra time for sports and extracurriculars. How much benefit will five or six hours of homework actually provide when a teen is barely conscious? Why do teachers assign so much work? Is it genuinely necessary? In most cases, it is not. Students are supposed to learn the class curriculum in school, not at home. If a teacher is assigning an inordinate amount of homework, it is not saying much for what they are accomplishing in class. As one concerned parent noted, “teachers… seem to be relying on homework to do the teaching.” The opposite can also be true: the only purpose for some homework is that the teacher feels they are obligated to assign it, even if it has no educational value whatsoever. This extraneous work places unnecessary strain on students who have many other things that they must accomplish.
The pressure to get good grades to get into a good school so they can get a good job is plowing teens into the ground. There is no escape for kids with dreams and aspirations or for kids whose parents have dreams and aspirations for them. In many cases, parents are another major source of stress for their teenagers. They have become super-competitive monsters; they have the uncontrollable urge to push their child until they are better than all the rest. In fact, a great number of parents actually ask their child’s teachers to assign more homework. They somehow feel that this will make their child smarter or more educated, when, in reality, it merely adds to their stress. In a study by Herbert Hendin, a link between parental pressure to succeed and teen suicide rates was discovered. Children who are “criticized…for not meeting unrealistically high standards…grow up feeling insecure and worthless.” Kids with parents who constantly drive them to be “perfect” can fear failure so much that it becomes unbearable and they choose to end their lives. Parents should not put academic achievement ahead of their child’s health and well-being; such action is utterly irresponsible.
Another fear that stresses teens out is the fear of not fitting in. It is a universal trepidation among American youth that if they are not exactly like everyone else, they are inferior. Not only must they strive to please teachers, parents, and college admissions officers, but teens have to make sure that their peers like them too. The American media pounds images of beautiful, thin models with perfect hair, skin, and bodies into the minds of adolescents every hour of every day. Television, movies, and magazines show beautiful people like Reese Witherspoon and Christian Bale, as if everyone who’s anyone must be that beautiful. This pushes adolescents to strive for the perfection that they see, an impossible and stress-inducing task.
There are those who would argue that teens’ stress levels are not excessive at all. They would claim that concerns such as homework, college applications, and self-improvement are all very beneficial. After all, these activities help kids stay off the streets and out of trouble. Right? Certainly not. Troublemakers don’t care a bit about homework, college, or what the popular kids think of them, so increasing the pressure to do any of these things would accomplish nothing. More homework won’t stop a gang member from going out and shooting someone, but it will cause the good kids – who actually do their homework – to suffer more. In fact, students who have the potential to excel in school can be drained of their passion. As Orson Scott Card noted, “[homework] kills the love of reading and writing in thousands and thousands of children every year.” There is a limit to how much a young adult can be expected to accomplish. After this limit has been breached, happiness and productivity decline rapidly.
The problem of teen stress cannot be ignored. The American youth are the future of this country; they are the doctors, lawyers, politicians, inventors, and scientists of tomorrow. In ten years, it will be these young people who will have the responsibilities of maintaining American justice, perfecting alternative fuels, curing deadly diseases, and developing new technologies. I do not think anyone wants our country to be run by a horde of apathetic and immature people who grew up hating school and learning. Such people would not be willing or able to maintain the integrity of our nation, or the world. Teachers, administrators, parents, and students must all work together to solve the serious problem of excessive stress. If something is not done about this situation, the teens of today will become the burned out, empty shells of tomorrow.

Chas J. Yackley

Fictional Characterization Piece
Written for Advanced Composition August 2007

Hey, Sylvia! I need a new ketchup bottle – this one here’s gone empty! Chas J. Yackley yells out across the diner from inside his customary booth. It’s 12:15 p.m. on Tuesday. It’s lunchtime, just like every day before and every day to come. A grilled cheese sandwich with French fries. A cup of coffee.
Not ancient but by no means young, Chas isn’t about to let life slip through his fingers. He may live alone—with no one except his tabby cat, Seymour—but that doesn’t mean he can’t be the life of the party. Because he is. What else does a retired man have to do but go out and have fun? Chas loves to go out dancing every chance he gets. Anniversary, wedding reception, birthday party, he’ll be there—wearing his dancing shoes. He fancies himself a ladies’ man, but still the gentleman that his mamma raised him to be.
When Chas is on the dance floor, he looks about 23 years old. In reality, he’s an old man, head like an eight ball and freckles like Morgan Freeman. His skin is worn like paper that’s been erased too many times. Chas isn’t the skinny withered type, but rather he’s pleasantly plump. His gait is strong and powerful, with a slight swagger, not because he thinks he’s so fine, but because he has a bad knee. But he works that bad knee like nobody’s business. Chas Yackley is one of the most friendly people you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting. Even, through all the hardship he’s survived, he still unwraps each day like the gift it is. He’s always happy to share a story. And he always starts out—in his rich, rumbling, jazz singer voice—I’ll tell you something…

The Last Gift of Summer

Written for Advanced Composition September 2007

Sweet night has fallen over the town. Hardly a sound can be heard under the soft, black blanket. Everyone has gone to bed early tonight, anticipating the first day of the harvest season. Whirlwinds of midnight dust swirl in the alleys. Something is in the air. Something mixed in with the crisp, supple scent of fall. Faerie giggles. They float down from the stars, swim in the breeze, and dance in the streets with the smell of cooling fires and ripening apples. A cat meows shyly from a doorway. A cricket chirps in the distance. Then, all falls silent. A sudden zephyr caresses the sleeping village. The trees are tickled; the thatch is stirred. All at once, the sky seems to brighten – the fire of each star stoked and strengthened by some invisible hand. The glowing orbs shine their brilliant light on the mortal ground. But, just as quickly as it began, the enchantment of the night retreats into the heavens. The gift of a good harvest: the only sign that remains.

A Smokey Scheme

Based on A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift (1729)
Written for English III Acc. December 2006

For Eliminating the Problem of
Illegal, Underage Smoking,
And Encouraging Better Behavior

The United States today is plagued by a serious problem: rampant underage smoking. Among the young people of America, it is considered ‘cool’ to smoke. Even at the friendly, small-town school of Maine South there is a substantial smoking population. Even the preschoolers have been seen with cigarettes hanging from their small lips. We’ve all heard the much publicized statistic that “eight out of ten Maine Township District 207 high school students choose not to smoke cigarettes” (from a survey conducted by the Maine Community Youth Assistance Foundation), but that still leaves an alarming 20% that do smoke. And I can guarantee that that 20% does not include only students over 18, the legal age for such an activity. We, the public, can not allow such an epidemic of illegality to continue and spread. Action must be taken!
Although the community has worked hard to spread awareness of the dangers of tobacco – in health classes, and the much beloved D.A.R.E. program – kids are still turning to the drug to relieve stress, rebel, make their friends like them, impress that special someone, or relieve boredom. I believe praise is well deserved for the efforts to educate our children, but I must say that it is not enough. It is well known that adolescents (and even at times adults) enjoy doing exactly the opposite of what they are told. It is a way to challenge authority. So, in light of this knowledge, I will present my own brilliant solution, and I know you will all love it.
After fervent consideration and study, I have reached the conclusion that the only possible solution to our country’s severe problem is to make it legal, and in fact a requirement, for adolescents to smoke.
A law requiring smoking would do a great deal to in fact reduce the number of smokers in the long run. As I mentioned earlier – and as I have been assured by a friend of mine who is a psychologist – the image of cigarettes is ‘cool,’ however, following rules is considered ‘uncool.’ Therefore, if kids were required to smoke, the uncoolness of respecting that requirement would negate the coolness of smoking, thus reducing the motivation for kids to partake of ‘death sticks’ as they are sometimes called. And this is not the only advantage to my plan. Allow me to present some of the numerous other benefits.
Firstly, it is well known to the public that smoking is the leading preventable cause of death in our fair country. So, if all were forced to smoke, more people would die sooner, meaning that the government would have to spend less on Medicare and other welfare programs. In turn, this would save taxpayer money.
Secondly, the government would no longer need to pay for those pesky public service announcements. They would not want to make the public nervous about the risks of something that they are all obligated to do. Spreading knowledge of the dangers of cigarettes would be highly discouraged.
Thirdly, the government would bring in even more revenue from the high taxes on cigarettes. Americans would be buying so many more cartons per year, that the extra money brought in would be more than enough to begin to cut away at the national deficit. I have been told by some of my acquaintances from the IRS that using my plan could wipe away the entire debt in as little as three years.
Fourthly, as cigarettes often cause loss of appetite in smokers, the requirement of smoking would help to alleviate the obesity epidemic that is spreading quickly through our country. What kind of image are we presenting to the world with all these fat people who seem to bounce instead of walk? If we all work hard enough, we can be the healthiest nation on earth, and smoking will help us do that.
Fifthly, the huge increase in smokers would help the tobacco industry immensely. From Philip Morris – who by the way has been wonderfully truthful with the American public with its informative commercial campaign – to small tobacco farmers, every facet of the industry would begin to bring in massive amounts of revenue. This success would greatly help our country’s economy and in turn the world’s.
Finally, smoking would simply be another great social activity that all could enjoy. It is commonly thought that young Americans are rude and unsocial (or perhaps only selectively social), so smoking would provide a way for young people to gather and get to know each other on a whole new level. Cigarettes would bring back the practice of spending quality time with loved ones and friends.
My proposal being so revolutionary and so inspired, I simply cannot think of any legitimate reasons that would halt implementation. So, do not speak to me about: teaching people about the dangers of smoking, ending the targeting of children with cigarette ads, hypocritical tobacco companies, or banning smoking in public places across the country. There is a very serious underage smoking problem in the United States, and the only way to improve the situation is to make it legal, and required, for people of all ages to smoke.
I must also assure you that my proposal is completely pure and innocent. I would have no personal gains from this plan, because I do not smoke, I do not grow tobacco, and I do not work for the government.

A Singing Friendly Bluebird

Based on A Noiseless Patient Spider by Walt Whitman
Written for English II Acc. April 2006

A singing, friendly bluebird,
I saw, where, on a slender hickory branch, it sat, alone;
Saw how, to enjoy the bright, blooming surrounding,
It spread wide its wings and flapped, flapped, flapped;
Constantly beating them—always rising higher.

And you, O my Heart, where you sit,
Embraced, embraced, in a blanket of sun,
Ceaselessly staring in awe-- wanting to know;
Until you unite, and join the beauty of life;
Until you understand and love the miracle of Nature, O my Heart.

A singing, friendly bluebird,
I saw, where, on a slender hickory branch, it sat, alone;
Saw how, to enjoy the bright, blooming surrounding,
It spread wide its wings and flapped, flapped, flapped;
Constantly beating them—always rising higher.

And you, O my Heart, where you sit,
Embraced, embraced, in a blanket of sun,
Ceaselessly staring in awe-- wanting to know;
Until you unite, and join the beauty of life;
Until you understand and love the miracle of Nature, O my Heart.