Wednesday, 18 March 2015

SOL #18 Tiny Story, the time I had no idea what the music was and absolutely fumbled at a concert.

I grip the handle, remembering my 5 years of piano lessons. Studying the music, I hear audience chatter, It was my first time ever looking at this sheet of music. I thankfully had back up to assist me when I needed it. I heard the composer say we were about to play a piece known as "Shepard's Hay". He lifts up his hands, the entire ensemble lifts up their instruments. They start playing their notes at a relatively slow pace, i'm counting in my head, waiting for my part. I see the rest is 12 bars, I count 9-2-3-4, 10-2-3-4, 11-2-3-4, 12-2-3-4 then I start to fumble my part, quietly playing the unknown notes, as if i'm an english speaking host presenting to spanish speakers. I was lost, my friend helps me with my part but we both know it's better if I quit and just pretend to play, so that's what I do. No one would know I messed up. Thankfully that song was over and we finally got to play the one I knew.


SOL #17 Ode To Grass

I walk along the field
Feeling their legendary blades rub against my leg
Feeling the green in the air
The aroma of freshly cut green earthworms
The soil still spills and trickles onto the grass
Almost as if it's stealing its spotlight
I step from one patch to another
Wondering if the grass feels pain
But it just stands straight up again after I step off
Straight as a solider


Tuesday, 17 March 2015

SOL #16

SOL #16 Ode to mom and dad
My mom and dad have taken care of me since I entered this world
My mom teaches me how to be affectionate and care
While my dad teaches me how to be a man with dignity and respect
My mom is the one who buys me the gifts she thinks I want
My dad buys me the gifts I really want
My dad talks to me about the things he thinks I like
My mom talks to me about the things I really like
I love my mom and dad both for different reason
But one reason they both share is

I love them because they brought me into this world

Sunday, 15 March 2015

SOL #15 Writing W/O Sight

The smell of Mrs. Narsiman's candles is heavy, yet interesting. The familiar sound of light classroom chatter tickles my eardrums, the keyboard clicking gets louder and louder the more it happens. I feel the cold air surrounds me in a bubble of relaxation, I feel my self slowly near the floor and then slowly slipping back into relief as I rock my chair back and forth. The spicy, tangy taste of the chicken I had earlier makes a home in my mouth and remains solitary for an extended time. The old familiar taste of class dawns on me once again.

SOL #14 - Short Story

At the time I was 5 years old, my mother had told me I was from Manaus. Some of you may not know but, Manaus is a city located in Brazil. Because my tongue must have not been capable of pronouncing certain words, I was not able to say Manaus. So I simply made it easier for myself by saying Moscow, which so happened to be a city in Russia. So whenever an adult asked me where i'm from I would say Moscow. Which I can't imagine how hard it would be for my mom to hear, "oh so you're from Russia.", then when she asked where this person got this information, she would respond "Your son told me." To which she came home to me and calmly said, "Next time when people ask where you're from, just say Brazil." So if you ever do read this mom, i'm sorry for all the complications I caused.

SOL #13 poem dedicated to poems

This is a poem
A poem, about poems
Poems are great
The rhymes can come early
or they can come late
they don't need rhymes
to express feelings
to be the voice of the voiceless
Poems are amazing
they don't need to make sense
words can be mispelleled
Spacings can be o utofplace
Puncuat.ion can be o'dd
But t hat doe;sn"t meen they ca.n:t be great
S'o fur   aLL uf .u. P?oeM lovers oot t h ere
you can right whatever you want