The Clouds

I get carried away in the clouds. They pass, and take me with them to places I've never been and maybe it's their first time too. But i have a book, always, and they take me and my book with puffy, joyous grins upon their faceless minds. They take me places never stepped upon by any other human; places only I can reach. And they take me and only me. That's what I love. The clouds carry me away.

The Beginning

I woke, sopping wet on the warm, dry sand. I could remember three things exactly, and three things only: the day of my father’s unexpected trip to “work,” his slippery tail, and my recent trip on what you might call a “bring your child to work day.”

My day had started like any other: my mom calling to me, saying something like “Get up, Beau, or I’ll get the water bucket”, being drenched with said ice cold water, and saying goodbye to my dad after his announcement of an emergency nine-day business trip to Honolulu.

He worked as a clean-up guy. Well, more like the clean-up guy. Everyone everywhere who was important knew him. My dad helped clean beaches, forests, and anything else nature, and travelled to everywhere not local. Most of his jobs were stationed in coastal areas with beaches and waters, considering we lived along the water of Kailua on Oahu. Dad was great at his job. Well, at least that’s what he always said.

We said our goodbyes, and I followed him out the door, heading to the beach to meet some buddies; Hank, a “hunk” at heart but a cinnamon roll on the outside, and Elliott, who had only two words able to describe him: mischevious and arrogant.

Ten minutes later my best friends and I had just started tossing a frisbee along the edge of the water. Hank flung the frisbee towards me, sailing a good two feet above my head. I turned to retrieve the plastic disc just as I felt a slippery snake-like branch, flipper, wing, something attach and wrap itself around my ankle. It yanked me straight to the ground, my stomach hitting hard and my eyes darting up in a silent plead for help.

Just my crazy luck, though, my eyes didn't meet anything that screamed HELP. They saw the same horrid tentacle something strapped around my best friends' legs, dragging them toward the rushing blue waters alongside me.

Oh, the Place You'll Go! - Dr. Seuss

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
Note: These are just mix and matched pieces of Dr. Seuss' full book. But this may or may not be one of my all-time favorite books/poems/quotes, so it's another I thought I should share. :)

There's an Ever Present Past - Peter S. Quinn

There’s an ever present past
Giving each dream a go
Wings moving onward fast
Into the approaching flow
Nothing new nothing old
Only the days in ever lasting
Freshen the moment to hold
Scattering up instances casting

You and I still full of dreams
That to the oceans is reaching
Watering way everlasting streams
Blowing voices there teaching
Rain from the clouds drifting
Drop by dropp in to your eyes
The covert of darkness shifting
Here come the clear blue skies

Reaching to the further side
Of our not so faraway destiny
Where the hue of colors glide
Inside the luminous and free
It would have to exist special
Not to become there through
So much is there abolishable
Going on forever for the new

Note: Although I didn't write this poem, I wish I had. There are some very loaded words that struck cords in my head as I read, and I love it. I felt I needed to share. :)

Short Scene

                 I examined the little shop. With the sign FREE DONATIONS beside the small front door and the NEAL’S ANTIQUES, the store itself looked ancient.

       “Come on, Miko. You’ll be fine. Spiders won’t touch you if you don’t touch them.”  I said, as I stood across from my best friend and held Carter’s hand.

                 “Ew! Why would I touch them? Hunter, I’m not going in there. They’ll be everywhere. I think I can see spider webs from here,”  Miko said, a disgusted look on her face.

                “Okay, okay. Me and Carter will be right in here then, okay?”  I jabbed my thumb toward the antique store door. I felt only a little bad for going in without her, simply because her fear of spiders and bugs was quite frankly ridiculous sometimes.

                “Alright, and I’ll be here, on this bench, safe, sound and away from those eight-legged creeps and their icky sticky death traps,” Miko said, taking a seat on the wooden bench beside the shop door.

                Carter and I stepped through the small shop door and heard the bell ring, signaling our entrance.

                “Where to first?” Carter said.

                I looked around, tapping my chin and scrunching my face. “Oh! Clocks!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s wrist and yanked him along. I heard him laugh behind me and allow me to pull him.

                “So how’s your aunt been dealing with your mom lately?” Carter said, as we looked around among the different variations of old clocks.

                “She’s okay… They were never real close anyway. And me and Aunt Rose, we don’t even talk much. I go home, she hands me my dinner plate, and we eat usually with fewer than ten words each. She just got done getting rid of all my mom’s old stuff.” I said.

                “Are you… okay with that?”

                “Yeah, sure. As long as she doesn’t start hittin’ me, we’ll be good. And none of Mom’s stuff ever mattered to me, anyway.”

                That’s something I liked about my Aunt Rose. She never told me it was all my fault then hit me. That was something my momma was never good at.

                “Ah, she won’t. Rose is good, right? She’s not like your mom was.”

                “Not yet, at least. Hey—is that Theo?” I said, pointing at the chocolate skin-colored boy at the register checking out.

                We walked up to Theo just as he turned away from the cashier and met eyes with Carter.

                “Hey, guys. What are you doing here? No one cool comes to Neal’s anymore.”  Theo said, with only a little excitement in his deep voice.

                “What did you buy, Theo?”  I asked, smiling.

                “Oh, just some old jewelry box. My mom’s really into this stuff… Ah, I don’t know. What are you two love birds doing here?”

                “We’ve been to every other store on the block, and it’s not even noon yet. This was pretty much a last resort.”  Carter said.

                “We also have Miko waiting outside, so we should probably get going, right, Carter? You can head out with us if you want, Theo,” I said, hoping he’d accept so Miko didn’t feel quite so alone alongside Carter and me. “I’m starving and broke, so I think we’ll be going to that cheap diner next door.”

                Theo shrugged casually. “Miko? Who’s Miko?”

                “You don’t know Miko? Do you live under a rock? You’re my boyfriend’s best friend and you don’t know Miko? She’s my best friend.”  I said.

“Is she cute?”

I gave my friend a playful shove just as we start toward the door to leave. Theo, who obviously did not expect the push, went  tripping into the counter. His jewelry box went sprawling to the floor.

Unable to do anything, I threw my hands out to catch whatever I could, whether it be Theo or his new-to-him jewelry box. Theo caught himself at the counter, fortunately, but his now-open box had long landed on the floor.

“You’re such a klutz, Theo,” Carter said, laughing and patting his best friend on the back.

My attention lay on what had fallen out of Theo’s box.

It was an envelope, with a torn edge and scribbled letters on the front.

Character Description

CHARACTER BIO

Name: Kimiko "Miko" Shing

Age: 16 years old

Physical Description: Japanese-American, short hair,
5ft 5' tall

Location: too-small apartment in small coastal town of Oriental, North Carolina.

Goals/Desires: to leave her father and triplet brothers' tiny apartment.

Weakness/Insecurities: terrified of all bugs, especially bumblebees; hates home life but covers that up when outside of it.

Pet Peeves: excessive body piercings.

Fondest/Saddest Memories: leaving Japan and her mother at the age of five.

Religion/World Philosophy: believes that all are good, or at least have some good in them; also that the world is much bigger than it looks, thus pushing her to want travel and adventure.

Habits: Miko is always late for events of all sorts.

Family Life: mother forcefully left in Japan early in Miko's life, so she is at home with a harsh father and three identical 8 year old brothers.

Paradise

 

As if my feet were attached in some other dimension and would go there without the slightest indication that my body wanted to do so, they practically glided through the doorway.

The smell threw me back a stride and for a second I had to catch my breath. Except I knew what would await me if I stepped into the dark shadows of the room. Behind the curtains, inside the toy bin, beside the small bookcase of children's books. It was there. It was everywhere. But my legs didn't care, and apparently neither did my brain.

I might as well have jumped right off a four-hundred foot cliff, than go into that room. My heart skipped beats and I knew this because I could hear them in my ears. My body throbbed and my eyes spun. They couldn't take in everything, something, anything. I was in a complete daze and things were beginning to get fuzzy.

I could just make out dolls with bulging eyes lining one wall, sitting atop dark mahogany shelves. Row after row, they stared. They watched me as I roamed blindly. The small rocking horse creaked slowly, back and forth, back and forth, with fading childish colors. Teddy bears with missing buttons and worn bows sat sprawled carelessly in random places on the the horrid green carpet. The walls were engulfed by jungle designs: one wall had gorillas and monkeys hanging aimlessly from tall trees, another with bamboo plants and other unrecognizable plants. The third wall had exotic birds feeding their young, taking up very bit of that wall. And the fourth wall... The fourth wall had.... Had...

Jealousy - An Interview with Finch, Student of KAF

Interviewer: How did you feel when you realized Anya was Garret Dill’s girlfriend?

Finch: They’re together? How do you know that? Maybe they’re just friends. They could just be friends, right? Yeah. They’re not together, silly.

Interviewer: Do you believe in love at first sight?

Finch: Well… Maybe. Wait, no. No! Of course I don’t. That’ll all girly stuff. Gross. Love.

Interviewer: Do you think you’re tougher than Garret Dill?

Finch: Of course. He may have meat, and good looks, and isn’t just accepted but invited to the Knights Academy of Farland, but the kid’s worthless. He’s a wimp.

Interviewer: Might you be… May I say, jealous?

Finch: WHAT? Jealous? Of… Dill? Yeah, ha ha, I’m way jealous. He’s useless. I am not jealous.

Interviewer: Do you like Anya?

Finch: Yes—no! No! She’s cute,  and all, but no. I don’t even know her. Wait— Is that my mom calling? I better go. Don’t want to keep her waiting!

The Moron and His Muttonhead Friends

No way was I going back there. How could I? Everyone just saw my… Well, you know. And I’d never live it down! At that moment, as I bolted for the nearest safe haven with my tattered shorts bundled in my arms, I decided that I couldn’t attend the school, even if by some miracle I was accepted. I’d never, ever, ever, ever live this down. I’d hear about it every day in class, in the hall, at practice.

                I ran and ran, like the coward I was, findin the side door to the school’s main building. Just as I ducked through the tall double doors, I skidded to a stop. A girl, a beautiful one (of course, right?), walked down the hall.

                I swear, she must have been floating. Or I was going dizzy.

                She was the most beautiful girl. And believe me when I say it: I was probably drooling. Her dark blonde hair fell lazily around her narrow shoulders obviously effortlessly and natural. And her eyes… so stormy and deep, perfectly blue-gray. And  looking straight at me.

                Oh, brother. I sounded like a girl. Was I really thinking like that? Knock it off, Finch. You’re a man. Act like it.I scolded myself and straightened up just as a blow hit my shoulder and jerked me sideways, almost directly into Her Highness. A stupid jock bolted passed me, looking back and laughing an idiot laugh at an unknown person behind me.

                The kid ran off down the hall. Just my luck, I turned around to put the broken puzzle pieces together and see who the instigator was.

                Garret.

                “Oh, would you look who it is? It’s Mr. Drafty!” Garret tease, elbowing his friends and pointing at my currently pants-less legs like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

                “Aren’t you so funny, Dill? Wait, rhetorical question. Just in case you happen to know what that means,” I tossed back.

                Garret must have been the king of dopey looks. He kept a straight look on his face, not laughing anymore, with an ugly curled lip. The kid was downright stupid.

                “You should really work on your comebacks, kid,” he finally said, shaking his head and holding that hideous smirk. He muttered something that sounded like “what an idiot” to his following idiots then turned to me again and gave me a shove.

                Under circumstances, I would have shouldered back. Well, probably. Maybe.

                I let the push go, though, because then Garret stepped around me and did something that, of all things, probably crushed my hope most, of anything.

                He reached out to the beautiful girl I had locked eyes with. “Let’s go, Anya. This fool’s gotta get home for bedtime.” Anya returned his gesture by slipping her arm around his waist. It was like a slap in the face.

The pigs plus the pretty girl walked off down the hall.

Dreams

Daydreaming by Theresa Ann Moore 

Reoccurring images seen by the light of day
In a mind that visualizes with fanciful sight
Thoughts are purposefully flash upon the screen
Dreams are not confined to the darkness of night

The mind has a voice with words audibly heard
The words spoken reverberate within the brain
Total absorption transpires under a cerebral dome
The dialogue is restricted to this solitary domain

A mind has amazing eyes with lids that do not shut
Scripted scenes engross and are convincingly clear
Releasing sweet warmth or retaining a frigid chill…
Reality interrupts and captivating dreams disappear

Embarrassment

I threw myself into the ring, knowingly not quite prepared for what I might have been facing once I slipped my hand around the handle of my new best friend.

Oh boy, was that sword heavy.

Now, who was I to say I could win this fight? I knew my chances were slim; even that smelly guard knew I was about to get pummeled to a squealing pulp. Except I still knew I needed to do it, or at least try. A few black eyes in places that eyes aren't even located never hurt anyone, right?

I lifted my massive sword and stepped to the painted center circle of the battle ring. My eyes locked with Garrett's and my head suddenly failed me. It went blank. Totally blank. Sword skills? Nope. Fighting skills? Nada. Running skills? Not even a chance. My ears, though, in the distance, allowed me to joyfully hear the annoying announcer counting down. 3, 2, 1...

Garrett struck with amazing speed, making a B-line straight for my jaw. Luckily, he overestimated my height and even luckier for me, something told my head to duck. I swiped at his thigh, the closest thing in my range of sight. I felt my blade skim it just a little and I saw only a small amount of blood trickle down.

The idiot looked down with wide eyes full of surprise, for what reason I'm not sure. But it gave my body and brain just enough time to compose itself once again and get steadied before he took another sorry swing. My cheek this time felt the wind this time.

It may seem as though I was doing quite well for the circumstances, except my heart was about the only thing working as fast as anything else should have been. I swear if he had stopped for another second to breath, he'd hear it slamming against my skin.

Bonehead as he was, his sword moved amazingly quick, even if without too much accuracy or technique.

It slashed next at my legs, but this time catching. I was sure where the blade hit me, because pain hadn't reached my brain yet, so I looked down with raised eyebrows and a surprised look of my own.

My first thought as I mentally assessed my situation, I'm sure, was not something I should mention.

The draft hit next. I quickly realized it was a windy day as my cacky shorts, now attached by less threads than I'd wish to explain, flowed freely in the cold wind. He'd swiped at my legs, for sure. No doubt about that, as my audience, containing friends, parents of all, teachers and guards, instantly decided holding their laughter would not be necessary, for my sanity or theirs.

Garrett Dill had just struck my pants. And they were now free as a bird on a sunny summer day.

Fear's Got Your Back!

The enemy of courage,
The best friend of heights;
I am fear.
I hide away
During the brightest of times.
The light,
it burns.
I strike in the dark,
Like the owl;
Whose head spins all the way around.
Happiness hardly takes me;
I am fear.
Beat me,
I always come back,
In one way or another.
Give in to me,
Give in to me,
I dare you.
I am fear.
I'll be your best friend.

Courage

"It's a test of courage, that's all," a guard a few inches away (a few inches too close, I'd say) told me with a deep, rumbling voice. Not to mention the reeking moisture that steamed from his mouth.

I felt like asking him how his onion sandwich he had for lunch was.

"But that's not even the point. We're supposed to be learning! LEARNING!" I threw my arms up for a visual to show my exasperation, because quite frankly, more than a few of the guys waiting their turn to step up were pretty beastly. Or maybe I was just extra small and measly.

Nope. No way.

The guard silenced me with an upraised hand (like he really believed that was about to help). I cooperatively turned my attention back to the clang of swords back and forth between the two inside the ring. I couldn't recall if this was with boy with the ridiculous name was supposed to be fighting in, but it made me laugh to imagine a life with a name like his.

Poor kid.

As the fight was finishing off and the obvious winner was awarded, the overly-rounded announcer's voice suddenly boomed from deep in his gut over the crowd of desperate students, bored instructors, and fat-headed guards. "Let's give one more congratulations to our newly accepted student, our winner of the twelfth round, Francis Fullerfumum of Pike!"

What were his parents thinking, honestly.

"... And remember students, you do not need to partcipate in this duel. It just takes the courage and desire to step up and fight for our place in the Knights Academy of Farland!" he paused, "And now that that's been said once more, let our thirteenth battle begin! That would be..." Another pause, as he read form the paper at his fingertips, "Finch Lee Ridda of Penn and Garrett Dill of Pike!"

My heart stopped. My name. Was that my name? I thought I heard my name. Right from the round announcer's lips, rolling off like it was nothing. And in the same sentence was the Devil himself: the monster from my childhood.

And I say "monster" for lack of a better word. "Bully", maybe. Except bullies don't usually reach six foot three by the time they hit seventh grade, possibly a result of their stupidity.

Apparently Garret Dill didn't get the memo.

This'll be a fantastic battle, I thought. And when I say fantastic I mean utterly disgusting and bloody barbarous. Literally.

I had to do it, though. I knew it, and it ran through my blood and thoughts and eyes and fingertips.

I stepped up to the ring, and slung myself through the ropes lining the rectangle of Hell.

My Beautiful Garden by Areeba Aqua

My Beautiful Garden by Areeba Aqua

I was sitting in my beautiful Garden
Digging sand and pouring water
There I saw a bizarre scene
That garden creature began to Sing
When the adorable flowers are swaying
Singing the song of “Beauty of love”
When sweet fragrance spread out
To wake up the chirping birds
A butterfly flaps their colourful wings
Fly up and such up the sweet nectars
And the bees are buzzing all along
The trees are dancing and enjoy the song
This moment captivated in my core of heart

Introduction

Introductions are so lame. Tell about myself? How am I supposed to respond to that? I like to write? That was a given.

Well... I'm pretty much a nomad. I like to move. I'm a traveler, and I daydream a lot about going places I've never been and seeing things I've never seen. I'm an explorer, and bring me to a cliff, strap a harness around my middle and there I go, over and scaling the side.

So writing is how I get my daydreams out of my brain and onto paper that I can sort out and dream even more about, if my mind so desires. It's a secretive process for me, so you better feel lucky.

Enjoy ;)