Tag archive for "think"

electric wheelchairs

Do you think there is magic in the act of writing?

12 Comments 10 April 2011

Question by C.S.Scotkin: Do you think there is magic in the act of writing?
By C.S. Scotkin

Her faded blue eyes are focused.
not on TV but where?.
Terse one word answers
are driving me to despair.
I seem unable to reach her,
She seems not to care.

Her universe is shrunken down
to a stark, white washed square.
Hospital bed and dresser.
The TV, reclining chair.
Small table beside her for food
waiting for God, she stares.

I rise, I turn the TV off.
Perform my examination.
Really, shes doing very well
Despite self vegetation.
I ask if we can talk a while
I tell her, its regulation.

I ask, what was your favorite day?
Shes startled by such a query
She bows her head, as if in prayer,
starts to open up to me.
She stretches out her bony hands
In case, she thinks, I try to flee.

A short hour passes, I must go.
This change in her is quite a sight.
Shes not so apathetic now,
Those clouded eyes are turning bright.
Before I walk out of the door,
I ask her, do you ever write?

With widened eyes she looks at me.
You need to tell these stories, true.
Youve millions of years to be dead
Dont let your memries die with you.
I have no paper, I have no pen,
Of how to write, I have no clue.

Next day I bring a notebook, pen,
A flower for her bare table,
So, pretend Im listening here,
I know you are more than able.
Your children will love to read you,
More than any tale or fable.

The last time that I spoke to her,
voice was strong, her spirit lighter,
I started writing poems, you know.
This woman is such a fighter!
Exorcising her depression,
This ninety year old new writer!

Ma, she’s still writing!

Best answer:

Answer by neonman
Might be, but the magic is in the heart of the caregiver who took the step to “awake” the writer. Well said and compliments to you for both.

What do you think? Answer below!

electric wheelchairs

What do you think so far?

4 Comments 21 November 2010

Question by Rubix Cube: What do you think so far?
Personalyl I don’t like how it flows but maybe its just me.

Astra buried her face into her forearms as time painfully passed. The hallway was empty except for the occasional janitor that walked by unaware of her. She brought her knees in closer and tried to tu ne out the fact that the floor was so hard she was losing feeling in her butt. Time didn’t even seem to pass as she waited. He had said 3:30, why wasn’t he here yet? She glanced down the hall hoping it was almost 3:30. 3:25. She let out a loud grown as she dragged her hands down her face, stretching her features as though they were clay. Footsteps sounded from around the corner of the dingy hallway. He approached carrying a coffee mug and his usual man-purse.
“So you finally decided to be early for once, Miss Berkley?” Mr. Sampson remarked, not making eye contact with Astra and unlocking the classroom door.
Astra shrugged her shoulders, an action not easily seen though as it was hidden inside her oversized sweatshirt. She hated waiting. For the instances that she did show up, she’d show up late rather than early. Waiting had felt horrible ever since it happened. Waiting to die, the time had seemed to drag on and on. She picked herself up off the floor, dusting mystery dirt from the back of her jeans, and slung her bag over one shoulder. Her feet felt as heavy as lead blocks as she travveled the few metres to enter the classroom. Mr. Sampson was seated at his desk, reclined slightly in his chair and looked in deep thought.
“Take a seat, Astra. This might take a while. And Sterling hasn’t shown up yet. So we’ll have to wait to begin.” Mr. Sampson sighed, and began to search desperatley though his bag.
‘Sterling… it can’t be. It must be a different person’ Astra thought as she took her pick of the empty desks. She watched Mr. Sampson dig through his bag. His bald spot shone brightly as the fluorescent lights hit it and dark rings circled his eyes. His ears stuck out at a pecuilar angle, and his face was weathered more so than it had been months ago. He withdrew his hands from his bag and his head snapped up to the door just as the faint rapping on the wood started. Astra quickly looked away fromtthe door, afraid of who might be waiting on the other side. The hinges of the door creaked as it was thrust open. The teenage boy ambled slowly into the room and a slight smile grew at the corners of his lips as he saw the occupants.
“Sterling, take a seat. We’ve been waiting long enough” Mr. Sampson said, rising from his chair to stand in front of the two students.
Astra focused her eyes on the floor tiles in front of her desk. She couldn’t look at the boy seated next to her, she just couldn’t.
“Now, I understand that you two are having some… difficulties at home.” their teacher began, pacing in front of them. “But that does not allow you to be failing all of your courses! You two are putting the rest of your lives at risk by failing! I have spoken to your past teachers, and have had the same response. Failed. Every single course, last semester. And now every single course this one! I won’t have it happen. With that, in discussion with your other teachers it has been decided, that you two will have one final chance. Together, you will complete this task. And if not I’ll be seeing you next year, again. ”
Mr. Sampson handed them both a booklet of papers. He grabbed his bag, turned off the lights and slammed the classroom door shut.
Difficulties at home. Her arms ached at the thought of what had happened almost a year ago.

Best answer:

Answer by ßÚ§ ß˝ˇšÚ¸
I think you should work on your grammar first.

I wasn’t hooked.

I think now I’m going to get a slice of chocolate cake and be a fatty.

Know better? Leave your own answer in the comments!

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