Baseball was starting to be boring
But hidden talent was pouring
In a game full of whites
It’s hard to see the bright talented lights
Branch Rickey
The one who saw those lights
Wanted to make a change
And that was strange
Jackie Robinson was his name
And what followed
Was much fame
He was going to be threatened
But that couldn’t get the best of him
Instead it made a legend
Later after he won the respect of many
He was free to speak his mind
And no longer bind
There is more to this I know there is. We can’t be trapped here. Locked without key. stranded without survival. This isn’t living. This is something so pathetic. So meaningless. That there is no motivation to go on. All I know. All I have been told over, and over again. What is branded into the very nature, the very essence of who I am is to live. Yet I am not living at all. I am a non-thinking host to whatever this life demands of me. Whatever the control hungry so called hierarchy want of me. I have disappeared away into nonexistence. I am just a wisp of a person. I have followed a path long ago.
Youth may hinder ones decisions under certain circumstances. Everyday I mourn the moment I made that choice. I have learned from my mistake. It is that love will always deceive. Love will play tricks and manipulate what little control it has over you. Never have trust without suspicion. It will end in the fault of yourself, and you will soon question your trust in the world. In the hope that it will get better.
But where is my evidence. Proof that this world hasn’t lied about its deep nurturing care for others. Something once so certain, can turn to a fantasy if love will act as a child. A selfish, poorly taught child. Youth has no promise of its innovation. That has its evidence, and has for centuries. What was once a common error, that many failed to teach. Could turn into a desolate island of fears and dreams that have once so vividly existed
In the 1950’s we’re not equal
Things were not fair
People of a certain race
Did not dare
Maids served the upper class
then went home
Prayed, and went to mass
To make a difference
There will have to be a risk
So Miss Skeeter wrote a book
That just might fix
Poor Miss Skeeter
Pushed down and abandoned
Never once she thought
That this would have happened
When offered her dream job
Miles and miles away
Miss Skeeter will have to say
“I am going to New York”
In my opinion
What the author is trying to say is
All people have value
Black or Blue
There he was, driving up in his 1963 , I can’t believe it is still running, beaten up, trashed, orange rusted out Volvo. He looked like something out of a magazine, maybe a movie. Hair spiked straight up, long trench coat, old worn black boots. Despite his eccentricity, he is always the smartest person in the room, end of story. I’m surprised he didn’t become some kind of scientist. Do something important with his life, but here he is, all day, everyday.
CraNo one really knows his story; even what part of town he lives in. I guess people just aren’t’ curious, well I am. There he was shuffling his chips, barely peeking at his cards, talking as minimal as possible. You can just feel the judgment when he looks at you, sizing you up, palpable intimidation rolls off him like sweat. He is such a mystery to me.
In LA you get lots of characters coming through here, but he was different. He wasn’t crazy, despite his reputation. But who really knows anything about him. That is it. Looking at the ceiling, feeling ambitious, I said to myself… I have to know about him!
I told you that you had to get away from me. I was intrigued though. That has never done well for me, curiosity. That was my only flaw, well my only noticeable flaw. I admit that I am nosey, but I do try not to be. Somehow my inquisitive nature became an issue at the young age and has become a problem ever since. My mother, a nosier person than me, even said something about my “issue”.
I especially have a problem with people that are constantly trying to find an issue with me. They are just waiting for me to screw up. It was my own fault for giving them ammunition against me, but at the same time it is their fault for looking at me and judging me unnecessarily.
Family, family friends, people that I have grown up with, these are the people who are just looking for me to make a mistake. Their prying eyes just peering into mine, trying desperately to know what I was thinking. No one felt safe to me. No one ever really has. I don’t even know why people do this to me but I was about to find out…
Desolation and Loneliness, that was what I was left with now. The mountains here, beautiful, peaceful, and the air so clean it smelled sweet. But everything must have balance, this was the price I paid. The ring that had been there for years, now made a faint mark on my hand. And my name had returned to what it had always been.
This is what I had been longing for, to be here, finally here. For years my only goal was to get here, in this place but something was missing, something I couldn’t single out. My mind was overcome by this missing element. I kept thinking. “Why wasn’t I happy?” Birds tweeted, butterflies danced around me, I was drowning in nature. I guess I was trying to cover up whatever it was that I needed. Still isolation didn’t sit well with me. Why?
I could remember the old memories so fully. I could still hear the words of discomfort and uncertainty, what I was, what I used to be, buried underneath my new shell of armor. What or who do I want to be now was the question…
The historical fiction book I read was The Help, by Katherine Stockett. The genre was fiction, and my rating for this book was 4 out of 5.
The book starts in Jackson Mississippi, in the 1960’s. We soon learn of Aibeleen and Minny, both maids who are best friends; and Miss Skeeter, an ambitious young white woman. Since Miss Skeeter is trying to become a writer, she has an idea for a book that came from a conversation with Aibeleen. The idea was to interview maids and get their opinion of their bosses and have them tell many of their stories of being a maid.
The book is risky, especially because of the time period they are in. Despite the danger, Aibeleen, Minny and 12 other maids help to made the book. The book finally gets published, but since it is such a small town, all the bosses of the maids who read the book start to get suspicious that is about them and their town.
In the end, Aibeleen gets fired, Minny’s husband beats her badly, and Miss Skeeter moves to New York. I liked the book a lot, it had enough twists to make it interesting. I would recommend this book to others.
Over the last three years California’s streams, rivers, and wetlands have dried up. Scientists have perused the idea of bringing in beavers to help water flow. Beavers do many things for the environment. Things that are very hard for humans to do. This strange idea is getting attention from other dry states too. Beavers were native to California, but after fur traders got a hold on them, they were no longer naturally in the area. The author was unbiased in the article. In my opinion I think that if these animals will help our drought problems, and it will work then we shouldn’t wait any longer.
A real Vietnam Veteran came into our class to talk about his life, his experiences in the war, and his opinions on the war. We asked him questions and he generously answered them. Here are some of the questions and answers.
1. When were you drafted?
-Drafted 1969, felt shocked and bewildered
2. What was your role in the military?
-Engineer (fixed lack of supply to units)
3. Where were you stationed in Vietnam?
-Ho Chi Min City (Saigon)
4. How long were you in Vietnam?
-One year
5. How were you treated when you returned?
-Not bothered when returned, lived a normal life
The fountain of youth
Is a well known fantasy
many have gone searching
But none have gotten its vanity
Ppnce De Leon
The first spanish explorer
Settled in Florida
Many have spoken
Of its magic waters
None have proof
But all are intrigued
By the stories of others
Sometimes ideas are more compelling
Than what is true
Some still search
But they are just a few