Reflections

Reflections

· Color Poem
o This piece is about the colors pink, purple, and blue and I wrote about those colors because they made me think about cotton candy. While writing this piece I learned about describing things. I did not really have to revise this piece because it was a group activity and we all just put our thoughts together and made sure it was correct.

· Short Story
o This piece is about human trafficking dealing with a man and his finance. I wrote this because human trafficking interests me and I thought I would make it into an interesting story. Though out writing this I learned the correct steps to writing a short story. I had to revise for ideas because at first I was going to do my story on cheating. I had to make some grammical corrections that my peers pointed out to me.

· Orange Poem
o This poem is about a kindergartner at school. He is doing an activity with oranges because it is “orange” week at school. I wrote this because I remember doing that when I was little. I learned about how you can have one object but write about it in so many ways. Ms. Turner changed some grammar errors on it when I sent it to her in my google account. Anna Camille and James both commented on my poem about how they thought it was creative and liked how I turned the orange into many different things.

· Vinallelle Poem
o This poem is about a day in the life of ants. I don’t really know why I wrote about ants but I just started out my poem with the word ant and made things rhyme from it. In this poem I learned how to use the vinalelle style of poems. Ms. Turner made some corrections when I sent it into her on google docs and spreadsheets. Kristi commented on my Orange Poem and said that she liked the topic and it was refreshing reading about something simple and random like ants.

· People Poem
o This poem is describing a girl I watched during gym class. I was learning to write about somebody that I have never known or talked to but write about them by my five senses. I revised my poem half way through because I did not like the style I was using and Ms. Turner found some grammar mistakes.

· Memoir
o This piece is about hitting a deer in my car on my way home one night. I wrote about it because this story makes me laugh a lot. While writing this piece I learned new ways of describing things in sencentecse. Ms. Turner found some grammar errors in it that I fixed.

· Learning from your classmates
o I learned that you do not have to make all your poems rhyme. This is important to me because I used to try to make all my poems rhyme.
o I learned that you do not have to describe everything in detail. This is important to me because I used to flood my papers with detail.
o I learned that it is important to write about stuff that people understand because I used to just write about random stuff in my head that nobody got.

Memior

Charlotte Warder
1/8/07
3rd Block
Hitting a Dear
Lying in Anna’s bed, almost knocked out by our growing tiredness, I hear my phone ring,”let her cry…let her cry”. I scurry from out of the comfort of the sheets to the ground. “Hello”, I said as I hurry to answer my phone before I miss the call. From the other line I hear this familiar deep voice, “What are you doing?” said Matthew. After a few agonizing minutes of small talk he finally asked me if Anna and I could come get him, Cely, and Dee from Jackson’s. Anna and I went and asked her mom and called them back with the answer of yes.
Running through the house like chickens with no heads, we managed to throw on some clothes and get the keys for the car. We started the car and “vroom” off we went. Dancing around, listing to music we were having the time of our lifes because we had been sitting in Anna’s room for it seemed like hours with nothing to do. I pulled in the driveway and “beep beep” went my horn. Out walked the three of them. Cely and Dee’s cars were at JC’s but of course Matthew needs us to take him to his house because he is always bumming rides. As we pull out of JC’s Matthew pops his American Rejects cd in. Moaning and groaning, Anna and I complain…that band was not our favorite. But there was no changing Matt’s mind; we were going to listen to them.

Color Poem

Charlotte Warder
1/17/07
Color Poem

Cotton Candy

Blue hums the sorrow of depression
Purple sits on a throne of royalty
Pink is the girly laughter ringing through a mother’s ears
Blue keeps the stars from tumbling down
Purple is the deep bruise of a five-year-old’s first bike ride
Pink is the comfort of a man’s sexuality

short story

Charlotte Warder
2/8/07
Short Story
CAN’T STOP LOVING YOU
Miguel stared down Jose with hatred in his eyes, "Don't do this! We are engaged! Isabella and I are going to start a life together." Jose quickly turned away, with Miguel's precious fiancée in his grasp. The smell of burning rubber wafted through his nose as the black Denali slipped away. The cloud of smoke billowed towards him, encouraging the tears to stream from Miguel's eyes. He sat in shock, thinking back to all the walks on the beach, late night phone calls, and big bear hugs, wondering if those sweet moments so dear to his heart would ever come back again.
As he finally got the strength to walk away, he started toward his favorite spot on the beach where he would always sit and think. He pondered on many thoughts of what he could possibly do to help. As he sat and wondered, tears flowing from his face, he finally realized what he had to do. Looking around in his jacket pockets, he finally pulls out his cell phone. Hands shaking, fingers numb to the touch of the keys; he quickly dials his dad’s number. "Dad", Miguel said. From the first word out of Miguel's mouth, his dad knew something was wrong. The influential voice said, "What's wrong, is it bad, do I need to send help?"
Still frantic, Miguel said, "Right away! Something bad has happened to Isabella! She was taken from me just a few minutes ago. I don't exactly know how it happened, but one minute she was in my arms and the next she was gone!"
"Where do you need me to send help to?" said Miguel's father, "Do you have any idea where she could be? I need to give my men as much information as I can. But son, do not worry, I will have Isabella back to you by nightfall." By the next Monday, still nothing. Running out of hope, Miguel called his father back to find out what was going on. "Where is she? Do you have any leads? Who took her? When will I get her back?" In a calm voice his father says, "Son, we are getting closer, you know my men are the best in all of Mexico. You will get her back."
The waiting, wondering, and worrying were taking a tole on Miguel. He was starting to give up hope. He had heard of all the terror stories of women taken over the border, and sold to gangsters in the U.S. He began to think the worst. Miguel wakes up to a familiar song, thinking to himself that his phone was playing tricks on him. His fiancée’s ringtone "Can't Stop Lovin' You" was screaming in his ears. Leaping across room, he flips the phone open with a surprised "Hello?! Honey? Are you okay? Is this you? Where are you?" All Isabella could manage to do was cry and scream "Yes! yes, yes, I'm okay! I'm with your father and I am coming home very soon!"
As they hung up the phone, Miguel could not believe it. He fell to floor and prayed to God and thanked him as much as he could. He thought that he had lost the love of his life for good, but now she was coming back to him. He had never been so happy, so thankful, or so relieved in his entire life.

Orange Poem

Charlotte Warder
1/30/07
Orange Poem

Sitting at my table,
Just only three, talking to my buddies.
Ms. K walks out of the work room.
A big sack of golden orange balls in one hand,
Peppermint sticks in the other.
One is placed in front of me.
The ball is cold, squashed, and smooth with little black dots,
A lot like my mommy’s face with no make up on.
My teach tells us to stick the peppermint into the orange.
Pow!! Pow!! I say,
As I hear the skin ripping.
All the sudden I get this smell of orange spray.
My dad always uses it after he goes to the bathroom.
I start to suck on the peppermint,
I get a rush of bitter juice in my mouth.
It was fun for like five minutes,
Then I decide to play doctor.
When I get done cutting into the body,
I see this orange, juicy, squishy ball.
Much like a ball my mom has,
She always squeezes it when she’s mad at me.
I take a big bite of it,
Juice sacks start popping in my mouth.
Yummy!!
I wonder what we get to do next week.
Its red week!

villanelle poem

Charlotte Warder
1/23/07
Villanelle Poem

The ants came out to play.
They marched out of their hill.
But only for the day.

The King ant waved hey.
That made a republican ant ill.
Don’t wave back he is gay.

Let’s march back in this way.
We’ve got an ant down said Bill.
One ant just plopped down to lay.

I want to go back and swim in the bay.
The prey sees his kill.
He got eaten by a bird named Jay.

One of the ants heard and screamed YAY.
The Queen ant said you are such a pill.
The rest of the ants cried because they wanted him to stay.

The ants collected their money that is to be paid.
The ants stood there still.
We all need to be chill.
The funeral will be in may.

people poem

Charlotte Warder
1/18/07
People Poems

Hands on her hips, legs spread apart,
there she stands by the basketball goal.
She jumps in the air and points her finger,
“shoot like this” she says as her voice goes from high to dull.

Bending her pale body down,
her short brown hair in her face.
She fixes her knee brace,
then stays down there for awhile to linger.

Strutting a half walk/run to the ball,
trying to act cute.
To bad the boy clothes she is wearing are a hoot,
to her girly team she is such a disgrace.

Halfway there her Nike shocks come to a stop,
she turns and says “I’m not chasing it.”
Her pointy witch nose seemed to fit,
so she adjusted her glasses and gave her team the boot.

While playing with her hair,
she moves her husky body to the side lines.
Hands in the air “WOOO that shot is fine”,
she does her cutesy giggle as she starts back down to sit.