By, Jack Joseph
Long bus rides seem boring
We have yet to learn the truth:
The only nap-time
Shooting stars above
Astronomers call out
“Get to the shelter”
Category Archives: Realistic
My words
by Jack Joseph
Sonder (n): the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own, populated by their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries, inside jokes, and stories. In addition, you play the part of a background character just as they do to you. Perhaps yours is the car next to theirs when sitting in traffic or it’s your lamp that lights a window across the street from their home. Maybe you’re the person that wrote and posted something that he or she read and enjoyed.
Words are pretty cool, but let’s start with the basics.
I’ve got a brain (I mean, we all do).
I’ve got a pen. And it’s got some ink.
The Adventures of Job, Trixie, and Lola
Today in Writers’ Club, we listened to three songs from a diverse range of genres–classical, obscenely gangster rap, and lastly, Icelandic–while writing short stories that had to revolve around three characters: Job, Trixie, and Lola. The goal was not to create something extremely refined, but simply be inspired by the mood that music creates. Below are the two stories I wrote; the first contains both Job and Trixie, and the second contains Lola.
by Angela Guo
A very young baby girl named Lola stared at the circle of plastic toys spinning above her face. Among the objects in the circle were a rubber duck, a miniature beach ball, and a Barbie-sized clown. Laying peacefully in her crib, Lola studied the toy clown.
The painted red smile on the clown’s face began to turn downward. Lola’s mouth followed this movement. Lola opened her mouth, which was still missing quite a few teeth. All of a sudden, the clown fell off the circle, landing into Lola’s open mouth. Lola was paralyzed with fear, too surprised and too young to think of pulling the toy clown from her mouth.
2 a.m.
By Declan Quinn
It’s 2 a.m.
Where I am
my room is lonely;
Its light is the only one
that glares out at the dark street
the empty street
Starburst
by Christian Theodossy
I wonder whose Starburst those are,
And if they’ll give me any.
To say
by Joaquin Munoz
To say I’m going through a tough time is an understatement
To say that I’m also having the time of my life makes it a contradiction
But lately I’ve found that life is anything but a one way street or confined to black or white
I finally admit to it being a gray area, a sort of blurred line.
What problems am I going through, you might ask? Continue reading
Life is meant to be Lived
By Jack Joseph
I needed to get this out of my head and onto the page, so that I would be free of the weighty burdens of work and pleasure.
__________
This is not for a prompt. This is not for any external reason. I am writing this for a selfish purpose. I am writing this for me.
I have come to the conclusion that one of the most insidious inventions of mankind is the calendar. Yes, it allows for long-term planning. Yes, it provides a definitive schedule so that we may structure our lives and partition out our time. Each and every one of us has been able to make long-term plans because of calendars. However, it puts a person into entirely the wrong mindset. Continue reading
el fin
by Jack Joseph
My response to the prompt “write from the perspective of someone who is dying/about to die.”
____________
Sometimes we live too long; only when the cancer of the body or the cancer of the mind takes charge can we finally see the light at the end of this twisting tunnel of suffering. Life is a thorn in the path, which once removed no longer inhibits the progress of that which never should have stopped. There is no need to fear moving on; I have seen preachers commit genocide and sinners earn glowing halos. It is the failing of man to think that our brother, cloaked in darkness, is our enemy. He is our only family, someone present for every downfall and every victory. For our entire miserable lives he holds our hand, silently guiding us towards a peaceful slumber. He provides the hope we need to move on, to strive for that which seems so far away. We should not pity the dead. We should pity the living, for it is they who must contend with the pain and destruction of life. Continue reading
Not a downfall
By Jack Joseph
This is a true story in response to the “danger” prompt. Though I didn’t know it at the time, it runs out that I had fractured my collarbone, but not nearly bad enough to do anything about it.
__________
It didn’t take long to realize my mistake. Obviously I jumped too far, and with too much force. Obviously I shouldn’t have gone for the one that was bound to break soon anyway.
But isn’t that the point?
Don’t I climb to be unsafe, to go someplace few others have been, to get that wonderful feeling as the branches move beneath me, yet I know that I am perfectly balanced, perfectly in tune with the giant organism that supports my weight dozens of feet off the ground?
Maybe I wasn’t careful enough. Going down has always required more thought and care than the ascension. Didn’t Sam get stuck in that redwood, years ago? But oaks are not redwoods. Their branches stay thick; their roots go deep. But maybe I shouldn’t have tried leaping from the powerful branch to the one hanging above me. Perhaps I should have climbed around it, but the opportunity was too perfect. The branch was right there, waiting to be leapt to and swung upon to reach the safety of the beam-like limb suspended just out of reach.
Destiny called, and as I felt my hands grasp the rough wood and a feeling of exultation washed over me, the truth broke in on my majestic flight and the ground rushed up to meet me. Continue reading
Lantern Festival
by David Xie
This year, the Chinese Lantern Festival coincides with Valentine’s Day. I figured I would celebrate with a little poem.
———————
Left
right
and left again
but I knew
no matter where I looked
he wouldn’t be there
I smiled to myself
as I looked down
and remembered when
he put his head on my shoulder
on the school bus ride home
I was bony
and the bus bumped
and he didn’t sleep
but we stayed still
Words 