As We Grow Older

Time flashes by,
with the quickness of a lightning bolt.
The time spent by the poolside,
once seen as cherished memory,
now seen as wasted foolishness.
The younger years disappear
like the pages of a flip-book.
The friends you had,
slowly vanish as though in a rear-view mirror.
The memories creep,
like ivy up a wall,
no end in sight, nothing to stop it.
But you embrace it, because
as age approaches,
with the inevibility of a sunset
you realize.
If you're eyes are closed,
you can't see the sunrise.

As we grow older

Revitalize My Soul

The cold air blow a chill through my soul,
but not in the sense of washing it away,
Rather, more like blowing air into a balloon.
The new air refreshes my soul, just as the campfire
below me warms it up.

The outdoors heal my body and spirit
better than any hospital ever could.
The brush of a dragonfly's wings,
the sound of a birdcall resonating over a lake
Revitalize my soul.

The tent pitched by a small campfire
on the edge of a deep and unexplored lake
Open up my spirit for adventure, and helps me to
Revitalize my soul.

THe paddle grasped in my hand propels me onward
to greater freedom and helps my soul
to perch from the lofty crags of wonderment that i have yearned to reach.
But the wilderness is what my soul has wanted
and the wilderness is what my soul has needed.
Because it is the wilderness that will
Revitalize my soul.

One Piece of Writing: Assignment #2

I first heard of the story in 7th grade. A friend told me that it was a story about survival, one that really got to the point. After hearing that it was also only 20 pages, I decided that there was no way it could be among the annals of modern literature. However, this story truely realizes the fragility of human nature, and how we are all at the mercy of natural forces that are far stronger and older than our own.

"The trouble with him was that he was without imagination...Such fact impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, and that was all. It did not lead him to meditate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon man's frailty in general, able only to live within certain narrow limits of hear and cold; and from there on it did not led him to the conjectural field of immortality and man's place in the universe."

Prompt 1: How does the size of a piece of writing effect its content? Does the amount of writing have any correspondence to its effect on the reader?

Prompt 2: How does the genre affect the content of writing? Do stories of different trials, whether about survival or a school day, resonate any differently to the reader?

A sample of my writing

Upon the majestic wings of an eagle,
floats hope and happiness.
Prosperity dives to swoop up
the weak and the forgotten.
Inspiration, in her divine form
drives misery back into its cave,
its lonely cold and wet fortress.
Charity, as a singular act,
outshines and compensates for the plurality of trespasses
against the suffering.
The famished and foregone,
take heart in the appeasement of their despair,
through the joyous labor of others.
Love unites against oppression.
Love unites through the kindling of the human spirit,
and love keeps us together through its universal message.

Autobiography

My name is True and this is a blog that I have created for my creative writing class. The intent is to offer another outlet for me to express thoughts about writing, or even pieces that I have authored myself. I enjoy writing articles, and I could see myself as a journalist in the future. Some of the writing that I enjoy are the short stories in the ilk of Nathaniel Hawthorne and Edgar Allen Poe, more of the Romanticist period. I find that their stories are captivating and still are examples of good writing even today. Modern writers that I like are John Steinbeck, and in particular, his novel Travels with Charley. This novel is an incredible dialogue on the state of the nation when he wrote it, and offers a delightful answer to his query of "What is America?"