The Hurricane!

Recently a high school English class read Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 in which he compares his love to a Summer’s Day. Then the teacher asked the students to do likewise–that is, choose someone to write a description about using an analogy.  This high school student chose to write about her sister and I think she did a pretty good job, so I’ve decided to share her piece with you here. Enjoy!

Have you ever been in or experienced a really bad storm? Such as a tornado or hurricane? Tsunami maybe? They’re pretty destructive right? Blowing things away, tearing up stuff, throwing things across the room–just making everything look messy. They’re destructive and can be very harmful. Well, I have a storm that lives in my house. Yes–just down the hallway to the left. She’s 11 years old, loves the color pink and coincidently hates any idea of a storm. She’s my sister,  or as my family likes to call her, “The Hurricane.”

My 11-year-old sister claims she’s princess Rapunzel and she’s an aspiring baker. Even though I hate to admit it, she is a great person with a cool personality, but when it comes to staying organized, she is not your average princess. Her room is always messy with stuff all over the floor. In the kitchen, she finishes dinner and leaves her plate.  You would think she would take special care of someone else’s room when she brings all her stuff in for a visit, but I’m usually tripping over her stuff that she left in MY room because she didn’t pick it up. Honestly. If you leave her in a room by herself with everything she loves, I guarantee that room will look like hurricane Urma came in! She pretty much does everything a hurricane does and I, unfortunately, have to live with it.

Not only is she physically a hurricane, she’s also emotionally a hurricane. Her moods can switch before you can snap your fingers. The slightest thing can make her upset, so be careful– fair warning! She also can be very fiesty.  She’ll lash out at you in a way that is scary, but hilarious at the same time. Just like she destroys our house with her stuff all over the place, she can destroy you with her actions and words. Don’t underestimate her!

Cover Photo credit: pixabay.com

For more student writing check out: Flash fiction: Life’s a Challenge–Face It!

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Keys

Here’s another installment in the Irene Latham iconic images poetry! Tyhara Tyrell is another one of my lovely and talented students who chose this striking image and wondered about the significance and symbolism of keys.

What do your keys unlock?
do they unlock anything at all?
or do you simply like their antique jingle?
why do you have so many?
must you compartmentalize all aspects of your life

into separate boxes…?

are they tangible expressions of the secrets that you keep?
are they there to comfort your fingers when you feel lost?
do they reassure you of yourself

to know you hold the key,
the answers,
the truth,
knowing that they are yours
to share,
to never be used if so you choose,
to never be touched

by any other fingers other than your own.
They are yours.
your secrets,
and you don’t owe us any answers.
You don’t owe us any keys.

-Tyhara Tyrell

Check out my other creative student, Darlyze’s, poem “Woman Enough” and other creative works here on Books & Coffee!

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Woman Enough

Well, Poetry month has passed now; I had wanted to post my students’ poetry while it was still APRIL! But I had to BEG to get this ONE! Nonetheless, it is a good one, by Darlyze Calixte, a talented young lady whose not even an English major (Chemistry, go figure)! Anyway, better late than never, right?

So, you may remember my earlier post in which poet, Irene Latham shared some lovely postcards with us and asked us to craft poems from the inspirational images. This is the image that inspired Darlyze to write “Woman Enough”

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He was a man who had just buried years of self loathing into the womb of a woman more handsome than he was.

Each inhale of the black gummy herb, burnt as an offering to the body to bribe it to forget what had led him there in the first place.

Each breath of it brings him no closer so he paints a new memory of her instead.

In his Art, her hair lovingly kisses her back, her  hips provide handles for grip, her bosom is a soft pillow for his head.

Cupid bow lips, porcelain skin unmarred by reality.

With every delicate stroke..hmm, every different stroke…a new “her” was created.

In his painting, she sat like a delicate and limp flower, waiting to be plucked but reality had painted the woman handsome. A cactus. Strong, sturdy, thorny.

And yet,

Just woman enough for him to bury his insecurities in.

Click here for more from my Creative Writing students. For more poetry check out CRACK! and if you like short fiction check out The Looking Glass. Check back soon as I plan to round up more creative works from my students and me!

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