Category: Junior Literary

So. First things first, I am absolutely horrible at memorization. I’m not sure exactly why, but I know I can’t do it.

Recently, I had to memorize two lengthy poems for Poetry Out Loud, which was mandatory for my Poetry class. I kind of put it off for a while until maybe the week before Thanksgiving break. Not because I didn’t want to do it or anything, but because I really just didn’t have time. It was on the very bottom of my priority list and let me tell you, that was a long list.

When the time came where I did sit down and start reading over my poems and attempting to memorize them, I found it very hard.

Alright, look, I’ve got super bad ADD, so it’s pretty challenging for me to SIT down and READ one poem over and over again until it gets nailed in my brain. So, yes, I did slack off a bit. I didn’t spend the entirety of those three weeks memorizing the poems, but I tried. I really did.

I had my first poem mostly down at the end of the second week, but the second poem I found, was way too long for me to be able to memorize in time. So, I did what anyone in my predicament would do: I changed my second poem. I decided to choose a way shorter one because let’s face it, there was no chance of me learning any long ones.

But.

I forgot about my online class that was due in a week. Yikes.

So, I did again, what anyone would have done in my situation. I bumped Poetry Out Loud down to second on my priority list and focused in on my online class. I mean, if I didn’t finish my online class I would fail the entire class and have to retake it. Not an option AT ALL.

Yeah, I read over the second poem a bit, but not nearly as much as I needed to to be able to memorize it.

The day came where I had to get up in front of three judges and recite two poems that I only half-heartedly know. Oh, wait, just kidding. I learned suddenly that it was going to be in front of not only three judges, but a whole class, not including my class.

Great.

I decided to turn around and make my way towards the bathroom to keep myself from having a mini panic attack before I went up and recited my poems.

Well, I got up there and pretty much gave up. Yep, I looked pretty stupid compared to my other peers who did an amazing job.

I wasn’t really worried about that part. I was more worried about the fact that I made a really bad grade because of it, and if there is one thing I stress over the most, it’s my grades.

So yeah, I may or may not have had a mental breakdown after that, but I’m fine now. I don’t have that stress on my shoulders anymore, and I’m almost done with my little priority list.

Pretty much the point of this blog is to tell you that if you know you’re bad at memorization and you have to memorize something, do your research to find trick and tips to help you.

Here are a few links I found when I did my research.

https://www.collegexpress.com/articles-and-advice/majors-and-academics/articles/study-smarter/memorization-tips-and-tricks/

https://www.dal.ca/news/2013/11/20/study-tips–top-5-memorization-techniques.html

https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbescoachescouncil/2017/07/07/eight-simple-memorization-tricks-to-help-you-remember-anything/#124fc56b7f25

Good luck.

I may not have mentioned this in any of my blogs before, but I love the book series The Lunar Chronicles. The series was written by Marissa Meyer, and her science fiction twist on classic fairy tales is unprecedented. 

So, who is Queen Levana,  you may be asking because you read the title of this blog and are curious to know who I’m talking about. To tell you that, I will provide a visual and give you a quick summary of the stories for you. 

In the Lunar Chronicles, there is a race of people that live on the moon called Lunars. They developed special powers that made them able to make others perceive their appearance differently. Because of this, beauty was a huge part of their culture, and those who didn’t have beauty often fabricated it for themselves. 

Levana was the youngest of the two daughters of the king and queen. Her sister, Channary, was vain and shallow, and often flirted with the guards of the palace and often courted many of the men of the court. When their parents died, Channary became queen, and it was quickly shown how much she sucked at being queen. She didn’t care for politics or the economy; she just wanted to throw extravagent parties and have affairs with people. 

Levana, however, had more of an aptitude for political and economical choices. However, she was often ignored by the court. She had a deep hatred for her sister, and Channary often treated her with loathing. 

We find out that when the two were little, Channary coaxed Levana into the fireplace and burned her face severely, leaving her face permanently disfigured. She used her glamor (what they call their powers) to give herself a more beautiful appearance. Even then, she was not more beautiful than Channary. And she hated her for it. 

 Levana soon develops an infatuation for one of the guards of the palace, and tries to court him. She finds out that he has a wife, who is pregnant with their first child. However, the wife dies during childbirth, and Levana uses his grief to make him fall for her. They marry each other and Levana takes in his child, whose name is Winter. 

Channary gives birth to a child as well, who she names Selene. Levana, out of jealousy, plots to kill Channary, and uses her powers to manipulate a guard into doing it. The same night, she also uses him to manipulate her husband, so that he doesn’t come to power. Levana still cannot become queen, however: Selene is still alive. She decides to set her nursery on fire, positive that the fire kills her (it doesn’t, but that involves spoilers so I won’t get too much into it). Becuase Selene is dead, Levana becomes queen of Luna. 

Quickly, she uses her newfound place of power to begin plotting against earth. She constructs an army of supersoldiers who are half wolf and creates a bioweapon to cause sickness on Earth. Her plan is to take over the entire Earth and rule as the queen. 

Levana is a ruthless character, and we are made certain of that. She was raised in such a way that she does not know what it is like to show true kindness to anyone. She is manipulative, and clever. She has a resentment for her own sister because of the accident which caused her disfiguring. And not once are we given a chance to sympathize for her, which just makes her even better as a villain, in my mind. 

Overall, Levana is an amazing characer. 10/10 for great characterization of a villain, Mrs. Meyers. 

Last year, during oratorical season, the directors would pick four amendments. On the day of the competition, they would randomly pick one the day of the competition. Recently, I wanted to see if I still had the ability to write on one the amendments. This is what I came up with....

Article 2, Section 4

Article 2, Section 4 states, “The president, vice president, and all other civil officers shall be removed from office on impeachment for the conviction of treason, bribery, and any other high crimes or misdemeanors.”

It is amazing how we hold politicians to such high regard. And as a civil officer, elected by the people, you are either for us or against us. So, treason is the ultimate betrayal to one’s country. Treason is unacceptable. Bribery, whether giving or receiving, jeopardizes the government’s relationship with the people. Bribery is unacceptable. In the same manner, other high crimes and misdemeanors cause ethical issues.

To impeach the president, vice president, or any other civil officer, two-thirds of the House of Representatives must vote that the accused should be impeached. The first step of the process is for the person being accused to stand before the House of Representatives, where they will decide whether or not the person should be impeached. After that, the accused will stand in trial where the Chief of Justice will serve as the judge, officials of the House of Representatives will serve as prosecutors, and the Senate will serve as the jury.

Only three of our presidents have gone through the impeachment process. These three were: President Andrew Johnson, President Richard Nixon, and President Bill Clinton. The first to undergo the impeachment process was President Andrew Johnson because he was accused of violating the Act of Tenure. He escaped impeachment being one vote shy of the two-thirds needed for the conviction. The second to undergo the impeachment process was Richard Nixon because he abused his power as president. He resigned before the Senate could make their final decision. The third and final president to undergo the impeachment process was President Bill Clinton because not only was he accused of abusing his power as president, but was accused of perjury. Much like President Andrew Johnson, he was acquitted after the Senate failed to convict him.

No one, not even the president, vice president, or any other civil officer are above the law. Again, I claim Article 2, Section 4 “The president, vice president, and all civil officers shall be removed from office on impeachment for the conviction of treason, bribery, and other high crimes and misdemeanors.”

 

my grandmother

during my parents broken

 

divorce would soothe us

(every day)

broken with her

southern accent,

telling us that it’ll all

 

be okay.

 

my sister

had to stand broken up

and fight for us

broken

fight for our

broken future

 

my brother

broken

hoped that he would keep his father

packed in a house full of

broken girls

 

mom broken

dad broken

stopped fighting

too much

broken to deal with

too much to keep holding

on.

 

i was too broken young

to understand

too young

too dumb

too b

r

o

k

e

n

 

bewilderment

heavy breathing

tears on an old pillowcase

 

I cry for you again

and again

always to no avail

 

you are the sun to my flowers

the moon to my stars

the day time shine in my eyes

the midnight bloom

 

I will never be over you

not completely

 

your strong hands will always hold a little piece of me

and mine will hold a piece of yours too

we both cut each other to pieces

 

but I think it’s okay

 

it’s okay for us both

to be making these irrational mistakes

crying to one another about them

we never learn

 

all I know is

when I lie in your arms

during a time when neither of us know what we want

know what we need

 

I still love you,

though I won’t say it

I let it cling to the back of my throat

as I know it is clinging to yours

 

you think to yourself, “maybe one day.”

and I whisper it back

in a small, small voice.

So I’ve noticed yet another habit I’ve “developed” since being here at MSA. I love taking pictures of trees. Why? I have no clue. Remember that lovely picture I posted in the last blog post with Chloe and the tree? That’s just one of the many pictures I’ve taken. 

 Here it is! Chloe seems to also have a habit – ruining my beautiful shots. She’s always in the picture somehow, which is actually somewhat amusing. If you don’t think she’s there, always look at the sides or in the corners. You’d probably find some of her hair there because of the wind blowing, and all that stuff. 

It’s strange, but I love the vividness of the greens, oranges, yellows. And now, they’re gone. Winter is coming, fall is leaving. Fall did its job, making the trees beautiful before wiping it all away, but oh well. I have the pictures. In fact, here’s a couple of them! 

 A nice little collage of my nature shots… I don’t really know why I’m so attracted to the trees. Probably because where my house is located there are no trees. Just fake grass, sand for dirt, and all that other lovely stuff. Hmph, oh well. Although, just like every other kid, I always wanted a tree house. Of course there was always one little problem: we didn’t have any trees. For a good bit of my life, we stayed in apartments. I think it was around maybe fourth grade when we moved into a house. But alas, no trees still. But it had a huge yard, so I had room to play, and there was a shed where I would mess with the pool table until my parents kicked my siblings and I out of it for safety reasons.  

Anyway, I love trees. They’re just really pretty to me, and I enjoy looking at them. I’m contemplating making a story that is almost like The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, but not exactly because it wouldn’t be a children’s story. You’ll find out more after I’ve written it.  

The first sign is in my hands, their shaking is the warning before it all starts, then the trembling explodes into every part of me. It feels like an earthquake in my soul. I can feel all my cities breaking and collapsing in my chest. Then, I lose control. You know how when an impact is so severe, one tends to lose consciousness? I guess this is kind of like that. The impact of the disaster going on inside me takes away my sense of being, leaving my body flailing for some control. My thoughts race faster than the speed of light, which leaves a blackhole in my mind. Nothingness. Blackness. I’m so cold, but I can’t feel anything. I hope death isn’t as blank.

Once I begin to hear a voice, I cling to that voice like a rope that is going to pull me out of this infinite emptiness. That voice then becomes my lifeline, and I get terrified when I don’t hear it anymore. I’m floating somewhere between nothing and everything, and I am trying to pull myself out but have nothing to grab onto until I hear that voice again or another voice that will bring me home. I climb until my body begins to vibrate.

It’s the best and most terrible feeling when my body regains control. I finally know that I’m alive, but I am welcomed back to Earth with a million knives digging into my nerves and my brain trying to break out of my skull. My vocal cords slowly wake from paralysis, and I want to cry out but can’t. I can feel the nails being hammered into my heart as my cities rebuild, and the child within me cries. The first willing twitch is almost scream-worthy, but I hold myself together as much as I can with a terrorized core. My first words are fingernails scratching my chalk-board throat, but once they are out, saliva begins to pour from my glands. Opening my eyes is like falling. There is nothing to focus on until my entire body makes landfall.

The last things to come back are my emotions, and that sometimes takes hours, maybe even days. My body is awake, but I am numb.  There is nothing left in me to cry or get angry, I can’t even fake a smile because I don’t care. There is absolutely no life to my feelings, and there is something so poetic about that. When they do come back, it’s almost like rain. It begins with a little trickle, a warning, and then a moderate pour. I have learned not to fight the flood, but to float in it. It washes me of the pain, though only temporary. It gives me peace.

After all has recovered, I continue on with my life. I try to fight stress off like a hive of wasps, but there will always be another. I wait. I wait for the earthquake to unleash. I wait for my shaking hands.

So, I wrote this poem for a competition and it’s supposed to be pretty metaphorical. Let me know what you guys think.

 

Dinosaurs love turtles,

I’m telling you- really- it’s true.

Stegosaurus love turtles,

And turtles love them too.

 

Turtles love stegosaurus,

I know that for a fact.

Their big mighty friends

help them reach in tree for a snack.

 

Dinosaurs love turtles,

You can’t argue with that.

The turtles climb up their neck,

and the ‘saurs wear them as a hat.

 

Some dare to think

the two can not be friends-

Only because in the ecosystem,

they are on separate ends.

 

Ones big and tall,

ones short and fat,

but, if they want to be together,

why shouldn’t they do that?

 

Well, turtles can eat meat,

and dinosaurs can too.

They’re both the same colors,

and share one sky of blue.

 

Dinosaurs can eat plants,

turtles can too.

They seem pretty similar to me,

don’t they seem similar to you?

 

Turtles come from eggs,

just like the dinosaurs

So, if they’re from the same place,

why should there be wars?

 

Dinosaurs and turtles-

they’re different, but the same.

The only thing separating them,

is their title, their name.

 

Dinosaurs love turtles,

turtles love them too.

If you want to argue, and say it isn’t true…

Take a look at those ‘different’ people around you.

 

 

Okay so like originally it was literally just gonna be a poem about dinosaurs and turtle. However, as Kerri Bland, I had to put something really symbolic and lesson-giving in there. I’m hoping it kinda evokes a feeling of happiness, but still hits you, y’know?

Yet, I don’t have a specific thing the dinosaurs and turtles are supposed to represent. They’re just dinosaurs and turtles.

The idea for this piece in particular came to me while I was making sugar free hot chocolate in a cactus cup, and then realized I had no straws to stir the powder with. It really kinda ruined my day, but it made me think about turtles. Please save the sea turtles.

As for the dinosaurs, I just think they’re real cool. Like, they’re just big creatures that we use to make plastics and stuff. sometimes we dig up their bones in our yards. Its like unintentional grave robbing. Thats kinda cruel, but still. Then we put them on display to show people what we found while unintentionally grave robbing. Sometimes that thought keeps me up at night.

Anyways, let me know what you think!

the fire burns hot

flames reaching towards the sky

we sit just close enough to feel its glory

music booms from the speakers on the back deck

we sing along and dance

fading into the night

blending into the roaring flames

your arms are wrapped tightly around me

my hands cover yours

i look to you

you grin, crooked teeth showing proudly

“i live for nights like these.” you say

i smile and turn away

staring into the heat

“i only live in nights like these.”

and the whole world is still

Over the summer, I was given the task of writing an essay based on someone who has positively influenced my life. Please read the essay and tell me what you think.

The person who has held the most positive impact on me is Phylicia Harington. She has played a very important role in the upbringing of me. Since 2013, the lessons she has taught me have inspired me to become a better me, every day. For this, I am forever grateful. The three lessons she has taught me area: to be comfortable in my own skin, to give respect in order to get it, and to always make the right decisions for me! Over the years, these lessons have helped me to become a strong and independent young man.

The first lesson is, “You are who you are. There is nothing I, you, or anyone else can do about it. Live baby.” When she spoke these words to me, my thirteen-year-old mind could not fully develop that statement. Lost for words, I asked myself, “How do you feel?” The only thought I had was that this teacher genially cared. She made it crystal clear that accepting who/what we are is the first step of living a happy life.

The second lesson was, “If you want people to respect you, you need to respect them.” She had noticed a change in my behavior as the year progressed, so she spoke these words to me. She went on to say that I would never be satisfied with anyone’s attitude towards me if I always had an attitude. She then told me that it was time I take responsibility fot my actions. I t is not always someone else’s fault as to why I am not having the best day. Although I did not want to heart it, it was the truth. Now, I can honestly say I try not to put the blame on anyone else for my behavior.

The third and final lesson was, “You only live once. Make decisions that are right for you. People will try to get you to do something stupid, but you are not the only one dealing with the consequences. Do understand though, you will make a lot of wrong decisions. Just do not make the same mistake over and over again.” I can honestly say that this has been the biggest fight, for me. I am still working on this, and she spoke these words five years ago. I had to learn that decisions not only affect now, but the near and far future too. It is up to me whether I make good or bad decisions. All I can really say is decisions, decisions.

In conclusion, Ms. Harrington has helped me build my confidence, learn the values of respect, and the importance of decision making. Allowing Ms. Harrington to enter my life was truly one of the best decisions I have ever made. I would not take it back, for anything in the world. Because of these lessons, I live by this quote: “I can, and I will!”