Childhood Memory

Childhood Memory
Ever since I was a kid, mornings have been hectic in my household. The combination of having a sister take 35 minute showers every morning, a mom never leaving the bathroom until her hair is done, and me never actually getting up in the morning is a sure-fire way to create stress in the a.m.
On the few mornings when I was on top of my game and awake, I did my best to hurry along the routines of others. Mostly this included feeding animals, making lunches, and starting my mom’s manual Honda Accord.
It was a cold December morning. One where you feel your nose hairs freezing on the way to the car, which is only a few short steps away from the front door. The car and ground below it were incased in ice.
I don’t know how it happened. This morning hadn’t seemed any different from the others. Did I forget to keep my foot on the break? Did I just pop the clutch? Whatever happened, there was a quick jolt of the car, and I soon found myself halfway through the garage door. The family boat, which was on a trailer and being stored in the garage for the winter, served as a perfect trash compacter for a mass of boxes and junk that we probably didn’t need anyways.
I was in panic mode, and evidently so was my mother as she flew out the front door with eyes wide with worry. When she realized I wasn’t hurt, and that the damage to the car was minimal, she finally settled down. I, however, was still quite distraught. It wasn’t my mother that scared me. It was my ill-tempered father. And now my mother’s master plan was to take me to the place of his employment so that we could talk about what had happened.
I knew from the start that this would turn out badly. My mother tried to comfort me by saying that he wouldn’t be mad, and that he would understand that it was just an accident.
Oh, how she was wrong.
I refused to start the car for 3 years.

Mrs. Thonus's Third Grade Stars

I have a pet named Elemouse.

He lives in a town named Pelesowse.

He is covered in fur from head to toe.

And gets frozen down when he plays in the snow.

He eats only ham from a certain kind of lamb.

Only feed him that or he gives you a bam.

His head is quite big but he is quite dumb.

Because he falls down and laughs when he pricks his thumb.

I have a pet named Din.

He likes to sit in a tin.

He lives in town named Mound.

He gets his pets from the pound.

He has a shell.

It has a bad smell.

He has a story to tell.

And words he must spell.

I have a pet named Gark.

He lives in a place called Blark.

Every day I feed him my teachers,

And all of my crazy cool creatures.

He is as handsome as dog charming.

His house is so very alarming.

His house has flying fleas.

It’s hidden in a forest of trees.

He can swim like a fish.

And break like a dish.

I have a pet named Cataphant.

He lives in a town called Ataphant.

He likes to eat a tangy banana.

While hanging off a fancy cabana.

His talent is to strike a bowl.

With his very best friend the mole.

He has a very nice soul.

With his best friend the mole.

I am Bluakamoo.

I like to say moo moo.

I live in the town of Seesoo.

I look like a blue kangaroo.

I have feet like a cow,

And sometimes say bow wow.

I eat pans and crayons,

And now live in Japan.

On my thin body I have a lot,

Of blue, pink, and yellow spots.

I have a cute pet zertle named Shertle.

It lives in a town called Berttle Mcwertle.

My pet zertle named Shertle has a special talent.

It’s the only zertle that can sing the Hertle.

She likes to eat sherbert,

While swinging on Herbert.

She lives in a house taller than the sun.

Which is very amazing for a Shertle on the run.

Her tail is very slimy.

Just like her nose which is grimy.

Her sister lives in the same town too.

Just like all other Shertles do.

Papercut Skin

Day out, day in
It's the alarm versus me
and the snooze button wins.
I've been waking all my life
to become what I'm going to be.
I'm a crone, la da da da da da
A headstone

Day out, day in
and begin again

Day out, day in
recycle bins
cash out, cash in
debit pins
day out, day in
the paper cuts my skin again
skin again

Cash out, cash in
I can burn all I earn
on some weakness or whim
without thinking
I'm a mark for their marketing plans
I'm Americancer
A Myspace romancer

Cash out, cash in
and begin again

Day out, day in
recycle bins
Cash out, cash in
debit pins
Day out, day in
the paper cuts my skin again
skin again

Day out, day in
Vitamins
give out, give in
Vicodins
Day out, day in
the paper cuts my skin again
skin again
skin again
skin again

All ye, all ye, come home free
Olly Olly oxen free
Day in, day out
I call time out

All ye, all ye, come home free
Olly Olly oxen free
Day in, day out
I call time out
I call time out

Give out, give in
If a man's hands show his trade does it suit me then
This papercut skin that makes me wince with each hand
I'm required to
shake, shake, shake, shake

Day out, day in
recycle bins
cash out, cash in
debit pins
Day out, day in
the paper cuts my skin again
skin again

Day out, day in
Vitamins
give out, give in
Vicodins
Day out, day in
the paper cuts my skin again
skin again
skin again
skin again

I call time out
Olly Olly oxen free

-THE MATCHES

Mountain

The Mountains are my home
My proving ground
My place of Zen

thin air
crisp, light snow
like sugar
I mount my skis
And let go.

Through shoots of powder
(my head is rushing)
And slits between trees
I fly through the forest
And set my mind free

Rock

dull, heavy, ugly, and gray
it takes him thousands of years to change his ways
gravity holds him in place,
without so much as a smile on his face
he may be tough,
his body clearly defined
but his mind is absent,
too tough to find
just as boring as dirt,
he blends in with the rubble
evolution is a foe
and because of that,
he'll never know

Nine Digits

Mrs. Vanjaarsveld said,

"Go home and write a poem tonight
I want this poem to be about you,
For it to be true"

My seat in English is of typical placement for me
All the way in the back,
But right in the center
After class i crowd through the door
With the other forty kids
Just as eager as me
To get out the nearest exit
And let the rubber feel the road.

Could poetry really be so simple?
I'm seventeen, bored, and raised in Bend
Some days are stupendous,
Most days are the same
I countdown the hours until I can escape.
In between counting those hours I like to create mischief
I like politics, skateboarding, and music
I enjoy a hot shower and coffee in the morning
Being a teenager makes me feel like I'm from Mars.
Too many people give up on their dreams as they reach adulthood
When the real world hammers down
On the head of the standout nail
Using a nine digit number regularly as identification
Has a tendency you feel small and incapable
With only three months left,
I won't let myself get trapped
Throw commitment out the window,
It's time to do things when I want to
Mastercard hasn't got me tied down with debt...
just yet

take us to space

hello

my name is Zach
and here is my blogspot for Mrs. V