Cricklewood Personified

Cricklewood is a town, and a family.  There is the general store, who is the mother that provides for her children.  She gives them food, and clothes, and medicine.  She doesn’t turn them away, even when she should.  That’s a mother for you, but the father, he is the law of the house.  He is the court, the judge, and the jury; passing judgment upon his brood sternly and without emotion.  He towers above the town reminding the children to obey his rules.  His sternness is only tempered by an uncle, a “brother” in fact.  He is the Church and believes in the goodness of people and their temperance.  He looks through rose colored glasses and sees untainted people.  But only one person sees the people truly.  An old man, the jail, he has sat in that square since Cricklewood was founded.  He has seen good men come and bad men go, both with the passing of years.  They all stand in the square looking in at the children, wondering what will happen next. Personified

Be Nice to Babies!

The other day I turned in a short story called "The Changeling," and today it was returned to me(I will post it at a later date).  Looking at the comments I noticed a large amount of red ink on the last page.  Well it was an interesting comment, " This is too creepy... I'm mad at you... >:( Be nice to babies!" 
I must say I burst out laughing, and called over my teacher to have him explain.  Well it turns out he likes my story and thinks it was well written, but he just happens to have two babies at home.  I don't think I will end up baby sitting for that teacher anytime soon.

Edits

Edit... Edit...Edit.  Sometimes I have the unfortunate displeasure of editing my own or a friends writing.  I despise editing, I am an atrocious speller and am bad at written grammar, well I can write my own stories well, but I can't find others mistakes.
Editing shows what a person thinks of your piece as well and can feel like a personal attack on your writing.  Someone may say that they dislike how my character speaks, or they dislike my topics.  Intellectually I know they are just trying to help, but emotionally I feel as though they dislike my piece.  This is why I am generally reluctant to show my writing to people.  I wish editing wasn't such a pain.  I wish it wasn't a pain from both sides of the paper.

The Purpose of Art

Art is one of the most debated subjects in our society.  Many people postulate that art has an innate purpose.  I do not perceive a purpose, and I am an artist.  When I create a piece of art I do it because it fulfills a need.  Some may say that it's fulfillment, is it's purpose, but I just enjoy it, somethings can just be done.  It is existential, meaning it exists simply to exist.  When I make a piece of art to express an idea, it is not to express it to someone else, but to help myself understand an abstract concept.
Many people will argue on what is art?  Is Mein Kampf art, it is a work of literature, and literature is art?  I believe that if one person anywhere in the world considers it art, then it becomes art.  Our perception changes the nature of the thing.  Our perception make it art.  A thing by itself cannot be art without someone to see it.  Art, rather the object itself is purposeless and in the words of Oscar Wilde "useless."

"Life is a Cold Black Stone"

Life is a black falling stone,
That move through the cold air,
And hits the ground only to be forgotten,
The hungry Earth swallows the stone,
Mixing it with all the lifeless stones,
That have fallen before it.

Haiku's of a Random Nature

Small dancing creatures,
Butterfly's fall from tree,
Earth swallows whole.

Skin like silken sheets,
Powerful and yet tender
Flash and it is gone.

Shut your mouth and kiss,
Open your body to me,
Open your heart, love.

Cut the meat and cook,
Customer wants medium,
Tell them we do rare!!

Falling like a stone,
Pieces of glass fall with me,
Defenestration.

Monk waters tree,
Metal death cuts down beauty,
Now tears water tree.

"A Creepers and Creeped Sonnet"

I smelt your nice soft hair as you slept,
Oh Jesus Christ where did you get a key,
I was watching and found where it was kept,
Oh my, a stalker you must really be.

Stalker is a word keeping us apart,
A restraining order will do that too,
Nothing will keep me from feeling your heart,
Hello police? Help he's got a pool cue!

I'm coming for you, you beautiful doll,
I see him now he is cutting the phone,
I know where you sleep, 3rd door on the hall,
Help someone help I hear his dreadful poem.

Now I have found you, now I'm, really bored,
Really? Really? that's it, bugger you lord.

"An Anal Retentive Language"

The English language is anal retentive,
the whole thing seems somewhat inventive,
I try and I try,
but it just makes me cry,
it seem I must be more attentive.

Flash Fiction "Open Chest Chester"

"Chester why is your chest open?"
This question echoed through the  room and in the empty chest cavity.  Organs in jars on the wall and a needle and thread in hand.
"Well I got bored stuffing animals..."
His words trailed off as the idea reentered his brain.  The gears began turning, and the light bulb in his head went on.  His face was filled with the kind of hilarity that you get when you realize you forgot to turn the computer on, and you've been on the line with tech support for two hours.  Then his face froze with the same realization that you've just broken your 20,000 dollar computer.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time..."

College

College searching is one of the more stressful things to do. First you look at the common GPA of students attending that school.  Your soul begins to cry as you see that 75% of the freshman had GPA's of 3.5 or higher.  Then you move on to tuition, this makes your brain bleed as look at the 25,000$ tuition fee for one year.  This is one of the lower tuition's for colleges I'm looking at.  Simply put college searching is a task not for the faint of heart.  I myself am a smart person, I love to read wright and research.  But my school career has been hindered by various medical problems, so I am behind on credits, and have a low GPA, I estimate 2.5. Hopefully my essays and SAT scores will save my application.  I know that I will most likely go to my state school which accepts most people and has a good scholarship program.  But I want to know that I tried to go somewhere new, although a nearly free state school does give me time to figure out what I want to do.

Veritas

Veritas is Latin for truth.  Truth, unmitigated truth is something most of us desire, we would like to know what people actually think, or at least, I would.  Anyway the truth although coveted, is something that can hurt you.  Learning nick names like "whiny bitch" and that some of your closest friend dislike you.  Personally I would like to hear the truth from my friends not from a third party, but sadly I was not so lucky  If you think that someone is lying to you it is very likely that they are.  For months I was paranoid that my friends were intentionally avoiding me, now I think I was right.  I read people well, their body language, their faces, the way they speak it all tells me things.  It tells me bad things, people rarely hide nice thoughts, it is something that just doesn't happen.  Think about it, all those fake smiles, those eyes turned down and away, those feet pointed towards the door, and those arm crossed.  All these things tell the truth, they tell more truth than I have ever heard from anyone's mouth.  The tongue can lie, but the body, the body cannot.