An Occasion | Samantha Leming

Lots of interesting people came into the New Harmony Shell Station while I worked there. Certainly, not the least of which was an elderly man, who after making his transaction, looked at me and asked me if I had a boyfriend. I told him yes, but that he was ten thousand miles away in Paris, France serving a mission for the church. The man nodded, and then, without hesitation told me to hold on to the people I loved. I thought about what the man had said for a moment, tears welling up in my eyes. When my coworker came over, I told him what happened and he seemed to shrug the incident off.

I have considered this man and his statement long and hard for many months, and wondered what happened to him. I have thought about Tom, the missionary whom I loved at the time, and even though a year and a half later, I am now engaged (to the coworker who was there the night I received that message), I have continued to think about that message. I have thought about change, and the way we choose to accept or deny it.

Change is always denied, and thought of in negative ways. The weather changes for the worse. The gas prices change for the worse. A person's health always changes for the worse. Bills, house prices, car prices, the economy, and television lineups always change for the worse. It seems that this man's life, changed for the worse. "...some changes can be disarming and disturbing." Change destroys lives, and demeans our existence.

My life changed once. I met a young man who cared about everyone he met, and cared about me before I recognized his existence. We were the best of friends - I even let him read my cards to Tom and gave him the leftover cookies. We shared workloads, sandwiches, and cheesy pick-up lines. My life changed again. He kissed me, told me that he loved me, and asked me to be his wife. My life changed quite a bit. Soon, I realized that maybe change doesn't destroy lives. Maybe sometimes, it does the exact opposite.

I never saw that man who delivered that message again. He walked out of my life the moment he said those words, but I hope that he has found solace and acceptance in that change that was forced upon him. Perhaps, change destroyed this man's life, but maybe, just maybe, it opened his eyes, and opened his doors. Maybe change can open ours too.

Big Bad Wolf | Jan Wilbur

Stay on the path,
do not stray.
Stay on the path,
that's what mothers say.

You left the path,
you nearly pay.
You left the path,
you're lucky this day.

Don't talk to strangers,
you know that now.
Look at all the dangers,
you know that and how!

Images | Dave Mazzettia

On the first day of spring, a cartoon bird singing at the top of it's lungs sitting on the branch of a freshly colorful maple tree

An eighty year old man dressed in full army dress uniform standing outside of his home underneath a flag pole in austere salute; a walker close to his rear

A man crouched over on his knees; his hands gripping a tear streaked face as his former girl walks slowly away, a stream of blood dripping from a piece of his dangling heart clenched in her closed fist

Rhizome Post #1 | Dave Mazzettia

Sierra's moments are short, simple, and intriguing. I especially enjoy the moment which describes the American Flag.

This picturesque moment goes deep within me. Because the American Flag is a symbol of our great country, I simultaneously associate her with those things I love most about America. Above all, I consider our freedoms, liberties, and independences the most loved items. One of my favorite freedoms is the freedom to worship God as I please.

What is interesting is that all citizens of America enjoy various freedoms such as freedom of speech and freedom of owning property or business but these freedoms are recognized to different degrees. The popular quote "freedom is not free" reminds us all that we are granted freedoms according to our diligence in obtaining and retaining them. I once viewed a skilled waitress as she, in one quick moment, pulled a table cover from several objects laying on top of it. The objects, which consisted of a glass and a pepper and salt shaker, seemed unaware of the action. This is a metaphor of what is happening in our society relating to the management of our freedoms. What are you doing to prevent the removal of our freedoms and liberties?

Rhizome #1| Lauren Perry

I really enjoyed Teresa's poem. It was really funny and the rhyming made complete sense and made it even more memorable. When thinking of my fairytale poem, Hanzel and Gretel never even crossed my mind as a potential idea. Very creative. I love how she also made the word, "address" work in there, I would never have been able to do that.

Rhizome Post #1 | Teresa Poast

I thought that the image of an empty book and a cup of forgotten hot chocolate is not only meaningful but also is a very vivid image that is not at first noticeable.

While I was reading this image, I could clearly envision the scene including sights, smells, and feel. I felt that the writer of this image was very observant, and I felt that in including so much detail, it came to life. When I read this post, I did not feel like I was reading words that somebody wrote, I felt as if I were actually seeing the open book with words yet to be written, and I could see the cup of hot chocolate.

When I write, my biggest goal is for people to understand what I am trying to say. I believe in mataphors and allusions, but I also want what I am trying to say to be clearly communicated to the reader. I don't want people to read what I write and say, "wow, I wonder what she meant by that?" I write what I feel, and I would not write it down if I didn't want to put it into understandable terms.

Rhizome post #1 | Cora Bryan

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images
By Staci

I liked the paragraph on the old couple getting ready to play tennis. Can you imagine what kind of game these two might have? I can't help but laugh at the conversation I can see them having towards one another as well.

I'd like to keep a good since of humor in the things that I see, and note them better so I can use them in my writing.

I swear I had this posted at 10:00 on the dot, but then as I was reading others rhizomes I realized that I did mine wrong and only saved it as a draft, but I SWEAR I had it posted at 10:00.

Rhizome Post #1 | Dana Bell

I loved Teresa Poast's Fairy Tale poem about Hansel and Gretel. It is just about kids who got into trouble with an older lady because going to near to her house. I like how she had the line "You kids are dead," this just lead back to the original fairy tale.

When I read the post I just could see clear images in my head. I could see the baseball game, the kids, the window breaking, and even the old lady when she got mad.

When I write I just want people to think. If it could get them thinking differently about the world that would be enough for me.

Rhizome post #1 | Kristina Coleman

In, Stranger Than Wal-Mart: 3 moments, 3 images Cora Bryan the image about the baby really made me think!I think the birth of a baby is definately worth writing about. It reminded me of the only time I have witnessed such an occurence. The description "Slimy purple object..." shoved me immediately into my memory. My sister let me be right at her side when her first child was born. I did not know ahead of time that they came out looking all...sickish. I was horrified when the child came out and I heard my sister's gasp. I thought the baby was dead.3. As a writer, I hope to make one of two things to occur. I want what a write to make others think and mean something to them; either that, or I would like to create something that just makes someone chuckle out loud.

rhizome post # 1| Colin Maynes

well, after looking through the other blogs I know this is extremely egocentric of me to say) but after reading through the other images and posts I couldn't find another one that I enjoyed reading more than my own . So here it goes, my rhizome post.

1)

2)When I read the post I felt as if there was an incredible darkness that surrounded this writer, a darkness that he has been trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid admitting his entire life. A darkness that he not only possesses but inherited from his background(parents, childhood, etc.) that is only manifest in his writing and his darkest hours.

3) when i write I want people to be slightly confused and to pull multiple meanings from, because i can't stand it when the theme of a writer is horrificaly evident through their writing. it's like those people that only have one mood, it's depressing to me. THEY ARE BORING. writing lets you explore so many different moods and realities. for an example read anything by chuck palaniuck and you will have alternate universes open before you, ideas (good and bad) will present themselves in your mind without your permission. that is the kind of visceral reaction that i want to evoke in my writing. sincerely colin

Rhizome Post #1 | Yolanda Cowan

I enjoyed the way that I could relate to Stranger Than Wal-Mart: 3 moments, 3 images | Cora Bryan about her moments with her children. I, too, have children and share in such moments. She described wonderful moments she experienced with each one of her children. My favorite one that I could relate to the most was number two "Quinn." She told of holding her young daughter at a time when she was ill and caring for her, being emotionally drained, and wanting to help her.

I felt such a strong connection to her feeling sleep deprived and worn out. I also connected to the image of her holding her daughter and shedding tears, if only to help. I experienced a similar situation with a child of my own, finding myself in a hospital holding his lifeless body, totally and completely scared, unable to cry at first; then non-stop crying. This brought back memories for me and it's always comforting to know that other mother's have experienced situations of their own that I can relate to.

When others read my work, I want them to be able to feel what is being written about. I want them to have the feelings I had in the situation to which I am writing about. I want others to have to think and imagine when they read my writings.

Rhizome Post #1 | Morgan Haynes

In Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Three Moments, Three Images Cyane Kramer , Cyane's first image invites your mind to wander among a vast and inventive concept.

I was particularly taken with the first image description because I have never looked at the sky in such a manner. Yes it is monumentally beautiful and magnificent, but when it is portrayed as "a mosaic of white on a wash of blue" it simply transforms itself into a breathtaking piece of art. Also, the image of a "painters sponge dabbling across the sky" in itself is an amazing image to visualize which held a rather symbolic meaning to me. I could just see Christ as the painter, and this to me was an astounding concept.

It is my sincere hope that when I write I am able to contribute something of value to my reader just as Cyane did for me through her image description. I want to be able to give them something to think about. I want them to feel deep down in their gut. I want them to relate and grasp my concepts.I want to leave them guessing and wondering what I meant. I want to "Wow" my audience.

Rizome Post #1/Staci Wilson

I really think that Kendall Pack's Moment about the old man with the mustache pointing to his boots and the fingers with no wedding ring was so neat.
As I read it I was just smiling because I could really see this old man, hunched over, but also very sad because he was alone. It was so detailed and thoughtful, it really got to me.
That is what I want in my writing; having the reader be able to connect emotionally to what I'm trying to say. It was great to find that in Kendall's writing.

Rhizome Post #1 | Dany Owens

Rhizome Post #1 Dany Owens

You probably could do nothing better today than read the post Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Plot Chelsea Campbell

This post is probably a mixture of creativity, personal experience and feverish nightmares. Nonetheless, it's brilliant! It's not fake, or overly dramatic or even forced, like some passages I found turned out to be. I found it to be genuine, funny and perhaps even realistic.
I might have been slightly biased as I read this post. After all, I'd been in high school with the writer and knew her pretty well. We'd been in two theatrical productions together and could probably still converse rationally at this very moment. Her writing style, however, really surprised me. She was blunt and real while remaining characteristically circumspect. The innate humor of this piece was what the deciding factor was. It simply wasn't fit to waste away in the bowels of the blog forever. It needed a rebirth, and I was just the one to revive it.
When others read my writings, I can only hope to get a similar response from them as I had with this post. I felt lightbulbs turn on, lightning flashed and I was inspired. Beyond that, I laughed. I once heard this thought expressed thusly "The true test of comedy is that it shall awaken thoughtful laughter." Thoughtful laughter is something every writer can only hope will befall their reader. In this post, Chelsea Campbell succeeded in her quest. Thoughtfully, I laughed.

Images | Dany Owens

Image one:
A young child is taught a skill-
Persistently she tries
she with a blue dress
her mother growing frustrated
as the shoelace finally is tied

Image two:
Two figures, silouetted against the setting sun
Walking through a field
their only connection is their hands

Image three:
A bee smacked into the windowpane the other morning
trying to get to the fake flowers in the inside

Rhizome Post #1 | Cyane Kramer

In Moments and Images | Alyssa Sanders there is a quick moment about rain that has fallen upon one's shoes.

I had read this post soon after talking in Biology about the qualities water has due to hydrogen bonding, so the scientific aspect had a recent background for me. The ending, with its informal, personal voice, emphasized the change from a scholar's view to a normal person's view. I could relate easily because, yes, I know about qualities of water, but that doesn't change the way it is physically perceived.

When someone reads what I have written I would like to touch their own emotions that are similar to what is being expressed. Without emotion there is no true communication.

Rhizome Post #1 | Laura Funk

The Moment that caught my attention is by Dana Bell. It is very short but it talks about how the simple act of going dancing can make it seem that everything will be okay.

This moment reminded me of the many times I spent dancing in an attempt to set things right within myself. When things weren't right at home I'd go to my room, turn up the music as loud as I could and just dance around my room until I was exhausted enough to sleep. As I got older I would go to community dances for young adults where I could become lost in the sea of people jumping and wriggling about. Dancing was my favorite thing to do when I felt like things weren't quite right. The frivolity and disorderliness of it all made me forget my troubles and just get happy.

When I write I want people to feel the depths of what their soul is capable of feeling. Society seems to be afraid of depth, we are all about living on the surface. I want my writing to catch people off guard so that by the time they realize where the writing has taken their feelings, they won't want to fight to get out, but instead will allow themselves to sink in and surrender to the moment.

Please Read This -- It's Wise | Dr. Petersen

There are a lot of profound things for writers and English majors in the post I've linked to in this sentence. The writer is a woman who makes and sells amazing crafts on the internet. Her blog is called Posie Gets Cozy.

My wife clued me in on it, today. She's a big reader of blogs written by women who make amazing things at home.

I'd like you all to read it by Tuesday, so we can talk about what it's saying.

Rhizome Post #1 | Ashleigh Word

In Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images Tina Coleman, Tina's first image speaks of a beautiful moon, in the presence of clouds.

When I read this post, this specific image, I could see what she spoke of as if I were standing outside viewing it for myself. The statement was so simple, created an image so vivid I could see it as well as feel the calming emotion I get when I gaze up at the night sky: the feeling that everything in the world is right, and the chaos has momentarily subsided.

To have others relate to my writing as I did to Tina's would be amazing. Others need to be able to relate to what I am writing. Perhaps I'll write it for its calming effect, but even if the reader interprets it with some different emotion, as long as I am able to evoke an emotion (providing it is not one associated with mental instability), I have been successful.

Images | Kendall Pack

1. A boy leans over a second story railing. He is taking a long look at a bird sitting in a nearby tree. The bird is ready to fly away. On the lawn that spreads away from the building, a girl lies on her stomach. She is reading a mathematics text book. A boy, wearing a green helmet, unchains his beautiful blue bike. A cat is slowly making its way towards the girl. But none of them sees the girl with her face in her hands, shaking with sadness.

2. There is a very tall man with a bolo tie and a cowboy hat. His height is restrained by a hunched back, broken with age. His white hair curls around his ears. A handlebar mustache points perfectly to his engraved boots. His eyes are very dry and the skin around them wrinkles deeply into his face. A certain loneliness surrounds him. He has no wedding band, but the skin of his finger indicates that he once wore a ring there. He stands at the corner, a strong figure with a hurting soul.

3. Two trees stand parrallel and fully in bloom. They are a brilliant pink among the brown and gray surroundings. The petals fall slowly in the space between, creating a carpet on the grass. The sky behind them is gray and lightning strikes. The trees are unmoved by nature's attack.

Moments | Kendall Pack

1. I step outside and feel a gust of cold wind, the first I have felt in Cedar City. I look to the sky to see dark clouds congregating above my head. The first drop of rain strikes my face with a healing power I have not felt in a long time.

2. I sit alone at Denny's. This has been a dream of mine for years. Now I know the loneliness and solitude that so many feel. I eat alone and the people around glance at me. They are thinking, "How sad, that poor boy has no one to eat with." At least I can understand the pain that everyone feels, sitting alone with no one to talk to. It is a hurt that doesn't leave. I pay my check and go. The waiter seems to feel sorry for me. He doesn't realize I made the choice to dine alone. But one day that will be the only choice to make.

3. A young girl is crying. Her father has just been in an accident. It isn't serious, but he is in Arizona and there is nothing she can do. I am washing dishes, and I think, "Why don't I give her a hug?" But I don't want to leave the other dishwashers stranded. So I keep washing. Out of the corner of my eye I see him hold her close, comforting her. I want to be indifferent, I want to think that anyone can comfort her, she just needs a friend. But all I can think about is why I am not holding her and telling her it's alright.

Rhizome Post #1 | Creps

Go read these images at Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images S. Katie Hill. I chose the second image as one of my favorite. It is short and doesn't have a lot of description, but I really like that because there is room for imagination and it presents many questions. The image was of a sparrow perched on a telephone wire, alone.

This post left a lot of room for me to imagine what that bird could be doing. Why was the sparrow in such a forlorn state? I figured that it could be because he was either looking for food, lost, or even 'out and about' on his own. The impact that this image had on me was onee of a lost sparrow desperately searching for a fellow winged animal. The impact was such because, being a freshman, I am lonely frequently and hide in the comfort of my own room- hopeing desperately for a friend. This post almost made me feel homesick when I thought deeply about it.

When I write, my goal is to tug and pull at heartstrings of the readers. I think it is such a talent for a person to be able to wheel the emotions of other people, and I hope that I can attain that skill. I don't want my work to be something that people find flowery and filled with an overabundance of emotion, but just the right amount so that I could cause the reader to laugh or cry. I want to share my feelings through the words I pen!

Rhizome Post #1 | Alexandra Winder

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images S. Katie Hill
In this link, the very last image is her mothers face as she says good-bye, and it made me think about my mom and how she was when I moved away from home.

I get that meloncholoy feeling that I usually get when anyone talks about their mother, or their family. It's like a homesickness that no matter what you can't conquer it. It makes me want to go back to being a little girl with blonde curly pig-tails that gets in trouble for playing in the mud, or that helps my mom stir the tomato soup on cold days, or that little girl that can just go up to my mom and get a hug with a great back sctratch. The sad thing is, I know people that don't miss their mom, they're so happy that they're away from home and they hate their mother for calling every once in awhile to check up on them, to them it seems like she's trying to keep them from being independent. I wish my mom would call me more!

When I write, I hope that people can feel the passion I have for things I write about. It's a little harder to get that passion into assignments, but when I write to just write, I want them to feel the way I do, and I hope that I can make them feel whatever I'm writing about, whether it be happy, sad, or empowering. I hope people can tell what kind of person I am, but most of all, I hope that people feel better about themselves after they're done reading something that I wrote.

Moments | Dave Mazzettia

A sharp and deadly sword long and glimmering; steadily laying waste to hundreds in putrid battle

A short, stubby, winged leprechaun holding a bow, wearing a quiver of arrows, running to and fro, contemplatively shooting unexpected victims

Rows of book shelves in a library; first one, than two, three, ten, twenty and on they go noisily crashing down down down in a spiral beauty until nothing remains standing save the youthful, grinning perpetrator

Rhizome Post #1 | Alyssa Sanders

Read Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments Ashleigh Word, her moments are beautiful, especially her first moment about trust.

When I read this entry, it stood out to me because I could relate it to an expierience I just had. For my UNIV class we took a field trip to the college ropes course. It was one of the first times our class met and we were required to trust in one another for support and stability. I loved her post because I could feel her moment. It was so visual that it put me there, and made me relate it to my life.

When other people read my poetry I want them to feel my emotion, or the passion that went into my work. Poems are extremely personal, a piece of your heart, intelect, feelings or whatever go into them. When others read my poems I want them to feel like they are a part that life, my life that I just opened to them.

Images & Moments | Morgan Haynes

IMAGES
A college student purely singing to his guitar barefoot outside of the college library baring his soul to all those who seek his knowledge.

A husband just standing there as his pregnant wife loads their four kids and groceries into "his" dejected van.

Two love struck college students walking closely intertwined with one another laughing and tripping over each other's feet.

MOMENTS
Heart drops into stomach and pulse surges as the red and blue lights flash unrelentingly in the review mirror at approximately 2:34 AM on the desolate interstate 15.

Phone rings at an unfamiliar time, leading the mind to wonder its purpose; Quickly reaching for the phone, a frantic voice is on the other end with a grievous message of devastation that forever changes ones life...

Running around frantically trying to meet the approval of the perfectionist within, everything seems to be in place, thoughts and hopes of how much he is going to love it build inside, but as he enters not a word is said, just a casual hello. It is then in that moment of abrupt devastation, the perfectionist begins reviewing and criticizing herself wondering what she could have done better to make him care.

Rhizome Post #1 | Samantha Leming

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: 3 images and moments This image was of like a dance, or somewhere with music, and a couple that's dancing and laughing together.
When I read this post it reminded me of my own childlike gaety when I used to go to high school dances, and reminded me of the times that I went to them. It reminds me of my fiance, and the way we laugh together over absolutely nothing.
I think people could appreciate the ones they love when they read this, and remember that they might not always be there to apprectiate.

Rhizome Post #1 | S. Katie Hill

Within Ashleigh Word's Moments post, she describes the anticipation and curiosity of receiving mail.

As I read this entry, I felt a strong connection to my own life right now. As it is, mail is one of my favorite mediums of communication. I could relate exactly to her doubt and pessimism to having nothing in her post office box, yet also to that intense joy when there was something wonderful inside. The fact that the awaiting package was nothing other than a book also connected me back to my own life, I love nothing more than receiving books in the mail.

When I write, I also want my readers to be able to form strong connections from my writing to their own lives. I have always felt that the more the reader can see himself/herself within the writing, the more he/she will draw from it. Emotion is such a key element in good literature. I love to see people's faces change with my character or speaker's lives. The ability to write with a great deal of heartfelt and real emotion is something I strive for. I hope that my audience will be able to draw the same importance from my works.

Rhizome Post # 1 | Stephani Walker

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments and Images | Alyssa Sanders
A beautifully written image and moment that takes your breath away...
I felt like I was reading something calming, something beautiful. It was like reading a professionals work!
I personally would love it if I people would feel this way about my writing, because it just stands out and really makes a difference in my mind.. and life.

"Rhizome Post #1/ Sierra Ehrman"

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images and Moments
I read this moment by Liz Sorensen. It was her last one where she talks about finally being homesick and crying when she hung up the phone with her mom because she realized how much she loves her parents.

When I read this post, it made me respect Liz. She wasn't afraid to admit to all of us that she loves her parents and things the world of them. It really touched me reading it because I lost my mother about two years ago and she was one of the best people I knew, and my best friend. I loved, appreciated, and respected my mother more than anyone in this world and when Liz talked about having the best parents in the world it made me smile. Some people could care less about their parents and even claim to "hate" them, but I loved my mom more than anything and I always made sure she knew it. So when I read Liz's moment, I really felt it deep down.

When I write poems or stories or anything, I write from personal experiences or feelings mostly. I try to convey all of my emotions, happy or sad, onto paper. So when I write things down, I really want people to feel my feelings in their hearts. If I'm writing about something sad and heartbreaking, I want my readers to really feel it, and likewise with something really happy and heartfelt, I want them to get the feeling inside and have a smile on their faces.

fairy tale poem

Elephant's disease is a nickname for Proteus Syndrome which is a syndrome that causes skin over growth and atypical bone developement.


Two little girls, the best of friends
Decided to walk to the road's end
And when they arrived at the eend of the road
They saw throught the trees a house, quite old
Up to the window they curiously crept
Then one after another they crawed up the steps
Then suddenly, smack! The door hit the wall
And what looked like a monster was standing there tall
"You've trespassed" he hollered. "And now you shall pay!
You'll come back to work for me everyday
I'll see you tomorrow at the crack of dawn!
Now get out of my house! Go! Run along!"

The girls sprinted home. Both full of fright,
and told one of their older sisters that night.
The sister was brave with a beautiful face.
She told them that she would go in their place
And when she arrived the man pushed her inside
Put her to work and she simply just sighed
She asked "Why do you treat people this way?"
He replied " You should see how I'm treated each day!
Your face is deformed!" people would tease.
"I'm known as the man with elephant's disease!"
He threw her a mop, yelled "Scrub the floor!"
And stormed out of the room while slamming the door.

The elephant man was shy and distant
But the beautiful girl, stayed persistent
She wanted him to feel he had nothing to hide
And to know what counts is what's inside
And everyday they would talk and sit
And with each day, he warmed up a bit
Eventually, she grew to find
That the Elephant man was not cruel but quite kind
She opened her heart when no one else would
And he then showed her what no one else could
He was humble, loving, caring and kind,
but no one else knew this. They gave him no time.
His heart, like an angel's, sent from above
Made her see past appearence and she fell in love.

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: 3 moments, 3 images | Cora Bryan

Cora Bryan's second moment really touched me. I think she is writing about her daughter and although i have no children, i can't imagine how hard it would be to see your daughter, just 1 year old, sick. I can tell how worried my mother gets when i catch something as simple as a cold or if I get pushed in a soccer game. My mom has always told me that she loves no one and no thing as much as she loves her children and she promises me that if i have kids of my own, i'll feel the same way. This moment made me really think about this.

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: 3 moments, 3 images Cora Bryan

3 moments, 3 images | Cora Bryan

Moments

1 Fallon: I was playing with my almost 3 month old daughter, enjoying her smiles, when an enormous gas bubble escaped my throat. Everything stopped. Then, slowly, the look of utter shock and astonishment came together to create a smile and then her mouth opened and her first laugh was heard. It wasn't a simple baby "he he". It was a full blown giggle that caused me and my husband to giggle, creating a great laugh fest that had my daughter giggling for 5 minutes strait.

2 Quinn: I held the little 1 year old girl close to my chest and rocked back and forth on the rocking chair. I was sleep deprived and worn out from her throwing up the pediasure that I would feed her one tablespoon at a time. She looked up at me with sunken in eyes. Her body limp. A tear rolled down and off my face, finding its way to her's, as if it, too, was trying to rehydrate her.

3 Silas: The burning I felt after that final push and release of pressure. They put the slimy, purple object on my chest. I tried get a good look, but either from the exaustion of the whole process, or the side effects of the pain medicine that I couldn't tell worked, I was unable to completely lift my head to see how bad his head was miss shaped. They took him off of me and under the lights to clean him and I waited for the cry. At first the only thing I heard was the sound of the nurses working, then out came the little squeak of a babies first attempt at crying. Releaved, and now relaxed, I sobbed in pain and under the influence of nubane mumbled something about not looking foward to my boobs getting big and with that I drifted off to some sort of fake world sleep.

Images

1 The note book sits on the hand-me-down wooden table with its blank pages open to the air. A pencil lies on top and a cold cup of not so hot chocolate is beside it.

2 The landscape is covered in sage brush. A dirt road cuts through and winds around a large hill. The skies are blue and cloudless and the sun beats on the ground below. The grasshoppers hiss in the long, yellow weeds. In the distance are the purple/blue mountains, and blocking the view is nothing. Absolutly nothing.

3 The drinking glass is on the white lanolium floor, broken. Shards are swimming in the grape juice puddle. The edges of the glass poke up, waiting for a small foot to step on them. Beside the mess, is a toddler wearing nothing but a diaper and a frown looking down at her lost beverage.

Rhizome Entry #1 | Dr. Petersen

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Love Poem | Dany Owens

This is just a test to see how this can work right.

fairy tale poem

Just ask Dinah

So much more to be gained
Than to fall down a hole.
Chasing rabbits, while time
Chases your restless soul.

So much more to your life
Than to search for a cure
While the answer was there
And you could have been sure.

So much left to be seen
To experience and feel
Just ask Dinah, she'll tell you
"Alice, Wonderland isn't real."

3 images and moments

three images:

1: Bead of sweat drips down 
a look of determination
Stinging eyes focused
on only one thing. 

2: The pot bubbles over
curses fill heated air
she's learning to fail
At succeeding. 

3: Vibrations float over 
night air, it's late
he smiles back as
she laughs at nothing. 

three moments

1: Tears don't fall
but blur the vision
a kiss goodbye is wet
and tastes of salt.

2: Two rows of what could be 
pearl, click in distaste 
at the sink's mass 
of last night's adventure. 

3: A hand shakes 
but not in greeting
fear of self control's absence
white knuckled steering wheel.

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments | S. Katie Hill

Rhizome Post #1 | Krystle Whitney

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments | S. Katie Hill

This was about a three hours study session with friends where all that was “studied” was three hours of laughter.

As I read this I had to smile. This is exactly what happens whenever I meet with friends, either to study or to just hang out. It's almost always a guarantee there will be laughter throughout the whole "get-together". And although we don’t get much done, I wouldn’t change those memories for anything. They quickly have become one of my favorite things in life.

When people read my work I want them to really stop and picture what I am trying to convey. We live in such a busy world and I am always running around doing things, but I also think it is important to stop and see beyond our day planners. It's necessary to take a moment and ponder on anything in life.

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images

Rhizome Post#1 | Jessica Pierce

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments #3 | Staci


This is about Staci and her friend in "Wally World". There was a life-like toy baby on the ground and Staci moved it with her foot. Her friend freaked out because she thought Staci had kicked a living infant.

When I read that I laughed out loud. I would love to have seen the friend's face when she kicked the doll. As I read this I could picture myself and a few of my friends in this same situation.

If people read my work, I hope that they can pick up on my sense of humor. I see humor in almost everything, and I try to convey that. When people read my stuff I hope they smile or chuckle because that's something I enjoy.

Love Poem | Dany Owens

Joys of Jif

I can still recall several peanut buttery moments, scattered through childhood

the sticky texture and musky smell of oil

on lip sides and fingernails

Romantic though it hardly is

peanut butter is a present I'd take over

sappy country songs, wilted roses or half hearted inadequate poetry

To this day, I can't decide

if I love the sticky stuff, or if I hate it

Constantly I curse its lushly rich pseudo-nutritionality

But all I stated out to say

has probably already been said

Though I haven't seen it

Rhizome #1 | Janice Wilbur

Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Images Samantha Leming

In Samatha's image posting there is a man standing the rain smoking by the light of the porch light. An isolated figure indulging his habit.

Here is aperson that has chosen his habit over his freedom. No matter what the weather this person is not welcome in the house when he smokes. What a sad thing to limit some contact in your life for a habit that will kill you. Some might say it is a good opportunity for some quiet time alone. But it is forced quiet time. There are places were most of us feel like we are out of place and do not belong, but for this person he has even created more places that he does not fit in. Because he smokes there is no choice. How sad to isolate ones self this way. How sad to slowly kill yourself. How lonely. Who knows what he missing that is going on in the house.

I would like for people to think carefully about their choices in life. What things they do that limit their freedoms. There is less worry, less stress when there are fewer things to constrain a person. There is more opportunity for happiness.

Rhizome Post #1 | Anthony Luciani

In Sierra's Stranger Than Wal-Mart: Moments assignment she first mentions a flag waving in the wind. Then she mentions the event that was seen near the fountain outside the classroom window and finally she talks about a gymnast finnishing her routine.

When I read the post I felt happy because these were good things to think about. Whether the girl near the fountain wanted outside attention or not she was there to make people laugh. The flag waving in the wind was a good thing because it made me feel patriotic despite the fact that there are things that are wrong with our country and the moment with the gymnast was good because she must have felt relieved after preforming her routine.

When I write I want people to feel all sorts of things. Happy and relieved that everything turned out all right. Terrified or angry at the evil things that the antagonist did. I'd also like it if I could even put a litttle humanity in my characters so that my readers will feel sorry for them and their situations.

New Assignment | Dr. Petersen

Remember the rhizome discussion I had earlier this month? Well, your next blog assignment is to read through the image and moment posts and find something that just takes your breath away and makes you want to write.

In the first paragraph I want you to link to the original posts. This is easier than I first told you. First go to the post you like. Click the time. At the bottom, beneath the comments, is a link button. Click it. You'll get a window. Type in the following title "Rhizome Post #1 | [Your Name]." You'll have a link all ready for you in the window.

Type the rest of your post. After the link, you should describe the original post a little.

In the second paragraph I want you to discuss how you felt when you read the post.

In the third paragraph I want you to write about the kinds of feelings you want others to have when you write.

This post will be due on Wednesday 9/20 at 10:00 p.m.

Lost

There it sat,
Like a hat.
With no control
Of What people know.

It had such taste
That had all gone to waste.
for now,
It felt like a cow.

Which is something you never want to feel
Because you have lost your appeal.

Moments | Teresa Poast

Moment one: Sitting in the library and watching as the study desks reflected in the glass roof were replaced by white brightness each time lightning lit up the sky, and watching the rain flow smoothly down the slanted roof even though the storm itself was not smooth.

Moment two: Listening to the imperfect piano music coming from the practice rooms below my dorm room, and knowing that their imperfections make them beautiful. Wondering what the people are thinking as they mess up certain notes, and then listening to them fix their mistakes and move on.

Moment three: Walking up the stairs to my room, and smelling something wonderful cooking and hoping its coming from my dorm room, then the excitement when I walk in and see a brand new frosted cake sitting on my kitchen table.

Moments and Images | Alyssa Sanders

IMAGES

I looked to the heavens and saw
the vast sea of gray fight the dark.
Before my eyes the shining,
shimmering of a luminescent orb
seeping between the waves.

I close my eyes and in
the diverse world of my mind I see
the beacon that is my home.

In the black of night,
there was a flickering candle
stealing darkness from the space of about my arms length
casting an eerie glow on my pencils, bible and journal.

MOMENTS

Wow.
I thought we had something great.
Then there was a beautiful moment of realization.
Now that I see you clearly,
I wouldn't take a second glance.

One of millions what are the odds
that this cohesive drop of hydrogens and an oxygen
came from thousands of miles,
fell for hundreds of feet and
decided to fall and stain my blue suade shoes.

There was a moment, a lapse in time
when our eyes caught glances from across the room,
but quickly turning we resumed

Fairy Tale | Teresa Poast

Hansel and Gretel

The kid with the crumbs on his face
Yelled "Batter up!" and threw;
His sister hit as hard as she could
And in an instant they knew.

It had hit Old Lady Jenkins's house
And the children were filled with dread
Old Lady Jenkins was on her porch
And she screamed "You kids are dead!"

They were very sorry but it wasn't enough
They were in an unfortunate mess
But they decided that from then on
They'd avoid Lady Jenkins's address.

Three Moments, Three Images | Cyane Kramer

Dancing under streetlight
That filters through leaves.
-
Thinking of justice
In a fictional sense.
-
Twelve conversations
With children
Who don’t
Exist.
-
The painter’s sponge
Dabbling across the sky,
Creating a mosaic of white
On a wash of blue.
-
Traced paper cutouts
Pasted on a wall,
Shadows of birds
Who can’t fly or fall.
-
Fake vines tracing the walls,
The cupboards;
Giving a vain impression
Of something meaning
Home.

Moments | Dany Owens

Moment One:
Wonderment

Once I sat in a Wal-Mart for something close to two hours-
On a bench, not making any noise or drawing attention to myself.
Crying children, pregnant women, desperate shoppers rushing absurdly,
It almost was thrilling to be a spectator looking into the fishbowl of humanity.

An old man came to sit by me first.
Not old even, but the shufflinghunchedlined sort of aged.
I never learned his name, but he flirted outrageously.
He soon was fetched by a man who smiled but clearly thought "thanks for babysitting."

Later I was joined by a woman and her baby.
She was very chatty and obviously content with her universe.
I soon was informed about every fault and quality her husband possessed.
The trick, I found, was to smile and look interested.

In the end, I left sooner than I expected and later than I wanted to.
I'd had my fill of polygamists, the frugal and the spendy, dirty children and their tired parents.
Feeling very sociological, very ponderous and tired, I headed home to my own fishbowl.
I slept well, feeling strange that I left with thoughts...but no groceries.

Moment Two:
Complete Contentment

I lay there, so calmly
His heartbeat loud in my ear as the stars shine
Grass hills scratchy on my skin.

We discuss the sky, the world
Wondering why the roof tiles are that shade of yellow
Our laughter rings loud.

Darkness falls over us
I can no longer see myself in his eyes
As silence falls.

Increasingly, in subsequent encounters
Our conversations falter, though his eyes still sparkle.
It began as two lovers meeting and it ended with two friends leaving.

Moment Three:
arms enclircling
hearts beating
warmth spreading
slight pressure
cheeks touching
i hug my mother

Moments | Jessica Pierce

1. My friend and I were driving back from Walmart and we pulled up to a really nice red car. I don't know what it was, but it was hot. The vanity license plate said "RedCat" so I turned to my friend and purred "Redcat..Rawr!" My friend started to crack up and as I turned to look at the driver, so did I. There in the driver's seat was the poster-man for Depends. I felt really stupid for purring at him.

2. When I went home this weekend I had a chance to play DDR or Dance Dance Revolution against my mother, and my GRANDMA!! How many people get to say that? And yes, I was better than her.

3. Waiting in much anticipation for the series premiere of one of my favourite shows.

Images | Jessica Pierce

1. My fat poodle laying on his pillow.
2. An adventurous wisteria branch climbing over the front porch
3. My collection of body sprays.

Moments | S. Katie Hill

The feeling excitement right before opening a letter from a friend.

Finishing a favorite book.

Watching the season's first snowflakes fall.

Moments | Tina Coleman

1. Laying on the grass and feeling the wind blow on my face.
2. Walked into the library at night for 5 minutes and came out amazed at how quick the weather changed...then realized the sprinklers were on.
3. A 3 hour "study session" out on my front lawn where all that happened for those three hours was intense laughter. Finally gave up and went to bed at midnight.

Images | S. Katie Hill

The mysterious handprint on the outside wall of the Multipurpose Center.

One lonesome sparrow sitting on the telephone wire.

My mother's tear-stained face when she dropped me off at college.

Images

An old man was waiting by the elevator, in white shorts and a short sleeved white shirt, his racket in hand, he looked like he was searching for someone. Then ding, I heard the elevator come, and out steps a little old lady with a slight hump, she was dressed to match him, in a little white skirt and carrying a racket too. She smiled at the man, whom I assumed was her best friend, and as he placed his hand round her shoulder, they headed for the racket ball court.


The night air felt soothing on my hot skin, as I slowly made my way off of the back porch. Surrendering my hands into my back pockets, I looked up contentedly at the stars. They sparkled and shined like they always did, but tonight they seemed extra bright. I love gazing at them, watching their fight to shine in a world so dark. Smiling, I walk back into the house as my roommate calls my name.


As I talked to my old friends in the wal-mart toy section, my foot happened to touch a baby doll head. To keep from tripping, I kicked it away, and my poor friend thought it
was real. The split second she saw me kick the doll’s head, her hands flew up to her mouth in a gasp. Then we all started laughing as she realized, the baby was only pretend.
But I’ll never forget the look on her face, when she thought I kicked a kid!

Images | Tina Coleman

1. The moon brightly shining surrounded by beautiful dark clouds
2. an empty milk carton
3. a messy room

Moments

There is one moment that I have come to love, and I never miss it when I walk to and from classes. As I pass by a long brick house with crooked wooden panels on the front door, there is a fairly good sized maple tree that is greener than green, with hints of reds in the small helicopter leaves that cling to the star-like leaves that grow thereon. As my head is surrounded by the leaves, I look up, and for one brief second, I see the canopy of green that dazzles my eyes and makes me want to seize the brown branches that are twisting throughout the greens and tints of red and climb to the very top of their home. Then I look down, and my forehead barely touches the lowest branch adorned with the biggest leaves of all, and I smile, closing my eyes, and keep walking ready and willing to face my day renewed with a determination to be happy and confident in my ability to live my life the way I want it to be.

As I was walking one day, a flock of birds was coming my way, they never fly where I can see, but today was different. They came up behind, to the side and in front. I whipped my head round, trying to see every feather, beak and wing. It was over in an instant, but I’ll never forget that moment when the birds flew round my head.

Hyrum walks slowly, a little wobbly, around my laptop, peeking around the screen. “Boo!” I say, because it was so perfect, he smiled and started around again. Our little game went on for a while, but there was a moment when, Hyrum, my little nephew looked at me with such utter disdain, I thought I would freeze in my tracks. But then he smiles, and hides behind two pudgy little hands and cries, “Boo!”

As Time Passes | Krystle Whitney

Images
The little girl smiles,
Looking up at the sky.
The clouds shine bright with sunbeams.
The yellow flower stands alone,
Like a beacon in a sea of red.

Moments
A child looks off into sunlight
As hair brushes at her eyes.
A baby’s gentle rhythm,
As it rocks itself to sleep.
A light breeze rustles at chimes
As they dance upon the elderly porch.

Lost poem

Lost, Now and Forever

When I was born,
A fury, forest green teddy bear
Was given to me.
And in it, a voice box
that let her talk to me.
Everywher I went,
I always had
Her sweet little voice
Encouraging me.
All through my growing years,
The laughs, the smiles, the tears,
My fury forest green teddy bear,
With her sweet voice inside,
Was sure to be with me.
Over time, it came to be,
That my sweet little teddy bear,
Would start to lose her hair.
She became old, tired and worn,
And eventually, she was lost to me.
I miss her soft, silky hair,
Her little green eyes looking back at me
Always smiling,
And her sweet voice,
Always encouraging.
It hurts, deep down,
That I'll never get to hear,
The voice of my teddy bear,
Ever again.
If only I could have,
One more hug, one more smile,
From my sweet little green teddy bear.
But she's now lost to me,
Now and forever.

Moments

1. An American flag, waving in the wind, but suddenly freezes for a moment in time to reveal all of itself to the world.
2. A girl, standing in a pink shirt like a flamingo
3. A gymnast, in the air, coming down for her dismount

Images

1. A basket of fruit on the table
2. A tree outside of a house
3. An outfit on a manequin outside

3 images| 3 moments | Colin Maynes

Moment 1 (Pectus Pectoris Effrego)
Heartbreak incarnate
I'm nothing, only your memories
Your Heartache, let me be your joy and pain.
Please let me haunt you as scent on your pillow.
Say you live for me, but I am gone.
Ghost on a stage.
Destroyed by a single kiss
I write you from between dreams and life.
You read and cry
Our hearache flows like a river of crushed velvet
Into the sands of time.

Moment 2 (Propinquus quod Lacrima)
I am broken,
Nothing left but dried water.
Ash and Sand
Mix with the breath of the living.
I am memory.
Pour your waterfall sins into me.
My silver shimmering soul becomes a void.
I am the blanket of cold,
And Guilt the chills.
Lives incomplete and memories
Flutter as dying moths trying to reach the candle.
Cold is a feeling and
Ratoture the Epitome.
Havok the dream.

Moment 3 (Decumbo Divum)
Dust and Nations fall as
This kiss goes on forever.
Your lips leave and the tender
Departure is the beautiful goodbye.
I need a ticket for two,
But I can only pay the ferryman
With one coin.
I fall, dark and cold poured upon me.
The sun will never warm my fingers again.
The Way is not light but Love.
I know the truth now, my imagined pain
Disappears and "I" become Energy and Ether
Everywhere and nowhere,
But only in your mind.

Image 1 (Estrellas parecen mas bonita que el Sol)
Night falls and I ask you,
My love, "what is Real?"
You disappear and stars fill your void.
Time swallows me and
Nurses my heartache to misery.

Image 2 (Foraminis)
I am the Soul of Nothing,
The black stars at night,
The dried Sea.
Existence only Percetion.
Souls of the dead will not rise.
Tombstones will crumble and
Fall and "I" will never Sleep.

Image 3 (337)
Will I ever exist?
I am abandoned, never remembered.
Smoke in a hurricane.
Who will sing my song?
Defeatist, are never wrong.
I will cut deeper inside to reveal
What true emotions look like on tile.
Life slips and so do I.
Self Damnation,
I will not be buried inside these walls.
But remembered inside your walls.
Memories are black and white.

Images and Moments

Images-

This weekend i witnessed three amazing images. My favorite image was in Saint George. At about 11:30 on friday night, some friends and i went on a small hike. My friends told me i could see the ocean from there and to lay my back on the ground and look backwards. I kept telling them you couldn't see the ocean from Saint George, but they assured me you could. Sure enough, i saw what resembled the ocean at night. It was amazing! Sky turned into the ocean and the city's lights turned into the lights on ships.

Another image that caught my eye was a couple i saw at a restaurant. I saw a black man and a white woman holding hands at a restaurant and i thought it was really neat to see people who didn't care about what others thought of them. I have a friend who took a lot of heat for dating a black man and i know every inter-racial couple does.

I saw a student in a wheelchair, with absolutely no limbs, hold a door open for another student. I thought it was amazing that someone with such a battle to fight of their own, would take the time to hold a door open for another student. I can't imagine being in his condition and it made me really think about how selfish i can be at times like when I get upset over a big pimple.


Moments-

This weekend i saw an old friend. She was my very best friend for at least four years of my life. We had a horrible falling out and completely quit talking altogether. I saw her this weekend and we spoke to each other. When we parted ways, we both realized we were at different colleges in different towns and we wouldn't see each other much anymore. We realized we'd wasted half of highschool hating eachother and just before we parted ways, we hugged and both began to cry. It was a moment i'll never forget.

This weekend i also experienced a moment with my room mates. We've all been nice to each other and we haven't had any problems so far, but we hadn't connected either. Saturday we all found ourselves sitting in the kitchen talking and there was no awkwardness to it at all. We all laughed and enjoyed ourselves and it was the first time we really came together.

Another moment i experienced this weekend was a bit sad. I haven't felt homesick since i've been i Cedar City, but for some reason, I was quite homesick Sunday. I had a long talk on the phone with my mother and just before i said goodbye to her, i cried. I just realized all at once, everything my parents had done for me and i realized they're two of the best parents this world has.

Moments | Yolanda Cowan

Watching my barely old enough infant stand for the first time having a look on his face that seemed to say "HELP! I'm stuck, what have I done and what do I do now?"

Watching my husband help my toddler learn to ride his bike. The bike gets away from him and starts to tip over. My toddler jumps off and proclaims "I totally made it dad!"

Having an elderly woman hold my hand for comfort as she received medical care from me and my colleagues.

Images | Yolanda Cowan

I look out my kitchen window and see a black sky void of stars with a radiant, almost perfectly round full moon.

I drive up the road and look up at the hoo-doos of Bryce Canyon National Park and see the brilliant glow of the pink rocks illuminated by the light of the rising sun.

A father sleeping with his toddler asleep on one shoulder and his infant asleep on the other shoulder.

Moments | Ashleigh Word

3 Moments

1 - Trust
What seems like a few shorts steps, feels like the height of Mount Everest. Each girl takes her turn, while the rest watch in astonishment. She hopes and prays they will catch her. Only a few feet make up the distance between the girl falling and the group, yet the fall feels like endless miles - like Alice when she falls through the rabbit hole - and then it is over. It is alright, the
group has caught her, and she is safe, her feet restored firmly to the ground, and she walks back in line, to help those who just helped her.

2 - Beauty
"Picture time!" The two most dreaded words on any activity, yet we all line up on the porch to commemorate this momentous occasion. We have made new friends and learned more about each other and ourselves, learning to appreciate the differences between us which make life so beautiful. Yet as we sit on the porch, and point ourselves toward the camera, we take in the most beautiful picture of all - the glory of the outdoors. We've been out there all morning, but now it seems more glorious than ever.

3 - Novel
I checked my mail box, under the complete assumption nothing would be in there. Nothing is ever in there. Certainly the package I had been waiting for couldn't be in there, so why was I even checking? Curiosity? A want to feel loved by getting a present in the mail? Alas, my pessimism did no good! For once, something had been placed in my box, and not just a letter or and advertisement - a book! But which one? I had ordered two, and only one could have fit in the carefully wrapped package with neat handwriting. "Please. Please, Please, Please!" I said to myself as I opened the package with caution. YES!

Images | Ashleigh Word

3 Images

1 - Bird
Peace fills the scene, but as the girl turned, a flash of brown whipped from the nearest tree in a whirlwind of flight, almost causing her to lose her balance, but yet forcing her curiosity to grow, a look of confusion and interest dawning on her face.

2 - Hot Dogs
Orange flames slowly engulf the wood, fighting numerous attempts to keep it going. In the process of making lunch, five unassuming pinkish hot dogs have slipped off the roasting sticks, only to be covered in gray ash, and slowly turn charcoal black as the minutes pass by.

3 - Hitchhikers
The massive white SUV makes its way slowly down the hill, all of its original passengers safely inside, five adults have attached themselves to the outside of the vehicle - like starfish to a rock. First one, then the other four jumping on with acknowledgement of the genius discovery, hoping to get a ride back to their cars.

Moments | Rebecca Nebeker

Ending a late night with an unexpected knock from our bleeding, cut and intoxicated neighbors seeking refuge from the police.
Laughing at life's "unique" moments in the shadow of the dull of day.
Kids jumping as high as they can in an inflatable castle.

No Time for Play | Krystle Whitney

They didn’t plan on being so scared.
They thought they had more time.
They played with their sticks and straw all day
without realizing what may come.
When he came it was too late
to hide behind the strong wall.
Now they never thought it would come to this
They thought they had time to play.
He huffed with anger as they shook with fear
They hung their head in sorrow
They knew they should have been prepared,
but instead wanted to play the day away.

Images | Rebecca Nebeker

-- A disco ball scattering red, yellow and blue shapes onto a wall.
-- A cat, in the middle of the road staring with its yellow-green eyes reflecting my headlights.
-- A dark purple splatter of blood in front of my door. (see moments)

Fairy Tale | Cyane Kramer

They say it is better to be
Content with what was given me.
My lot in life, though hard to bear
Is easier than another’s share.

Yet still, if life continues cruel
And remains to seem but half-full,
One should then consider this:
Better things do not mean bliss.

There was a mouse, her hard work done,
Who goes to see another one
Whose allotment seems to be much more-
With food, and drink, and rich décor.

But there’s a cat in every tale,
Who waits to steal what heart’s travail
Longs to catch for some cheap price-
Such is the end of men and mice.

There awaits for discontent,
Who attempt to circumvent
The hard work, and reach for pleasure,
Nothing but a faded treasure.

Love Poem| Kendall Pack

Strings

I am enamored with the strings of life,
Which is not to say yarn or thread,
But strings.
Not the strings you sever from clothing when they have become too long.
Or the strings decapitated from blankets and quilts,
Once they are sewn as the finishing slice.
Not at all these strings that hang as decorations,
For a merry Christmas,
Or a churlish Halloween.
These are not the strings that I adore.

I find passionate art springs from strings,
The ones which I methodically mention.
They rise and fall with each stroke across,
But only a master can make them sing,
At least in tune.
I am no master, I am no prodigy of the string.
More the keeper of twine and wire, unfit for the strings.
Yet for eleven years I studied and failed.
Finally I gave it up with a hatred in mind.

But I have renewed my endeavor to master,
To sweep my bow across the strings,
To release the music I could once command.
But music that I could not hear.
Love is neccessary to fight for art.
Love is essential to the music I once abhored,
Now adored and kept in my mind,
Endlessly spinning a concerto of sundry instruments.
I sit in the middle, holding beneath my chin,
The violin.
The strings in perfect tune,
And I in perfect solace.

Images | Laura Funk

Four black-clad boys on bikes in a diamond formation with a smaller boy in pink on a skateboard in the middle.

Dark clouds spread across an orang-gold sunset.

A 10-year-old girl wandering around the apartment complex wearing an ankle-length white sock on her left foot and nothing on the right.

Moments | Laura Funk

Holding my very first newborn nephew.

Having someone speak to me when I feel completely invisible.

Sitting on a wall in the middle of campus, watching the sky change and listening to distant crowds cheer the football team.

Fairytale Poem | Samantha Leming

They look at you;
they laugh at you.
They think your worth a little less
just because you're different than the rest.
And maybe you believe them.

And you trudge along,
scraping your feet against the floor.
Your head is bowed;
your eyes are down;
you're walking down a dark hall
trying to decide where you belong.

But who are they to say you're different?
Who are they to say who's right?
Who are they to say who's pretty,
and popular,
and smart?
Maybe they're wrong.
Maybe you were the pretty one all along.

Moments | Samantha Leming

Seeing my mom for the first time since I moved out.

Being proposed to from the top of the a cliff overlooking Dixie National Forest.

Reading the entire chapter of a text book (and understanding it) for the first time.

Images | Samantha Leming

Snow White walking down center street wearing sunglasses (seriously, I saw it.)

A pirate flag flying over Old Main building.

A man standing in the rain smoking by the light of his porch light.

Moments | Anthony Luciani

Finishing homework at the school library on a weekend.

Staying up late to watch your favorite show.

Having a barbecue at a family reunion in the summer.

Images | Anthony Luciani

A catterpillar walking accross a sidewalk.

Three birds siting on a fence.

A black horse behind the fence eating food from a bucket.

Moments | Dana Bell

Finally defeating the claw machine game at Wal-Mart.

Going dancing and feeling that maybe everything will be okay.

Learning that an old love still cares.

Images | Dana Bell

The pattern of lines of the roof window above the Sharwan Smith statue.

The sun giving light on an empty stage.

Bubbles overflowing from the sink.

Moments | Alexandra Winder

The gloriousness of understanding enveloping a once confused, dazed look.

Such a time in life when all is well, and everyone is laughing hysterically at the simplest thing.

A hand on the small of her back, gently, lovingly leading her through the door.

Images | Alexandra Winder

The soft light of sunset coming through the window and settling on the light film of dust on a picture frame.

The peacefulness of sleep on a face that once was sad.

A student held to their math book, drenched in the knowledge contained within.

Moments | Olivia Creps

An old man hands a bag of overripe tomatoes to his new, much younger neighbors.

An outgoing girl addresses a very uncomfortable acquaintance to discover where they had met.

A glance over at a friend as some stranger takes her into a swooping stage kiss.

Images | Olivia Creps

... an old rock church placed in the center of a new and happening town.

...ugly orange, tan, brown, and green designed carpet in a very old kitchen with yellow plaid wallpaper.

... a thick layer of gray dust in the shape of a square on carpet where the fridge had stood for too long.

Fairy Tale Poem | Anthony Luciani

Billygoats
I made a mistake a long time ago.
Now I live under the overpass as a troll.
I used to be wealthy,
I lived like a king.
Until I decided That I needed more.
I chased money and fame
always hungry for more.
"What could happen?" I said
"Nothing," I thought,
But I soon found myself plummeting over the bridge
Into the river nearby.

Fairy Tale Poem | Laura Funk

Yellow Brick Highway

There's no place like home
That's what I've come to find
I walked out the door determined
To find a life of my very own
Tired of being misunderstood

I wandered away with confidence
Then suddenly lightning struck
The wind began to blow and then
I realized I'm not so sure on my own
And all I want is to go back home

The path ahead is not as I planned
But I'm learning to make it on my own
With new friends by my side I will find
Independence and strength to stand
Knowing all along there's no place like home

Love Poem | Kristina Coleman

I Live For It

I live for it
I'd die without it
I think about it
I dream about it
I'm happy when it's with me
I give money for it
I crave it
I love it
But each day I let it go.

Fairy Tale | Alexandra Winder

I'm a Princess

Stuck in a cruel world,
Not quite sure where to fit,
I'm just an awkward thing.

Pushed into a scene,
Most uncomfortable.
But there's a prince.

He thinks I'm lovely,
And so pursues,
Until I'm a princess.

Love Poem | Dave Mazzettia

Toss to and fro
Among the rocks
Mostly inside you’re socks:
Against a fearful foe

A millisecond passes
But the effects last a lifetime
Some are prideful, others not
Some avoided, others sought

My friends and I we all know so
Battle Wounds is the way to go!
On a hike a branch goes “CRACK”
The sorry victim lies on their back

Battle wounds I’ll say it again
Some call them scars ~
Now what’s the deal?
If you have none, just wait – hold still…

Fairy Tale | Staci Wilson

Covers

I read a book yesterday
That I never thought I would.
It was ripped and torn and soiled
On each corner, cover and page.

I swore I’d never read it,
But then my teacher said:
“If you don’t you’ll fail for sure,”
So I plugged my nose and dove right in.

It was hard at first and scary,
But then it happened, BAM!
the beastly book was different now:
A prince, a treasure, a beauty!

Fairy Tale | Dana Bell

Hidden Beauty

When you first see her, you wouldn't call her pretty.
She filled her mind with books, while her friends date.
She had beauty all around her, only she couldn't see it.
"Ugly and out of place," was all she thought of herself.

Years went by and she grew up daily into a swan.
People gazed at her with awe and showed respect.
Enemies before wanted to be with her constantly.

She gracefully accepted how people treated her now.
She never held grudges; she was a lot better than that.
She always made to spread her wings and soar.
She may have not seen it then, but she was always beautiful.

Love Poem | Alyssa Sanders

I love the way he looks at me

His eyes gently perforate their ferocity into mine,

A diminutive immensity at every glance.

His icy fire emblazons my emerald vision,

Energy so focused he insights my soul.

The expanse of a tumultuous ocean concentrated in a single gaze.

I am alone in his world.

Fairy Tale | Rebecca Nebeker

Conditions of a Blonde

A resonationg call
brings a solemn reply
from a fierce stone fortress.

Listen to the song from up high.
A loose flaxen rope,
that golden ladder
a silk halo stair.
Falling like grace to your feet.

A rough heart,
and a dirty hand,
brings snips of scissors
and a painful fate with thorns.

Love Poem | S. Katie Hill

Noteworthy


What is it about notebooks?

Is it the way they smell like the autumn, yet feel like a crisp winter’s day?

Is it the way the wire spirals through pages of bliss, trepidation, and despair and binds them as one?

Is it simply the way notebooks can be filled with such wonderful thoughts, ideas, and creations

Or left unblemished and perfect?

Is it the way opportunity blossoms from the pages, yet grows in one’s heart?

Or is it the way a notebook is so much like a person—decorated any way one chooses, yet contains so much more than appearances can convey?

FairyTale | Olivia Creps

A Gift for Me

A package, received today,
Is sitting on my countertop.
It's wrapped in thorny, frightening paper.
On the decorated note card it says,
A mon belle.

I fear to touch the parcel
Because of it's appalling appearance.
My fingers would be pained by
Even a small prick. But oh! what
Curiosity!

How flustered I have become,
Eyeing my gift.
But if I never remove the wrapping
I guess I will never discover
The rose hidden within.

Fairy Tale | Ashleigh Word

One Equals One

Why do something known to be wrong?
Answer: To be the best
Great. Beautiful. Strong.
No matter the consequence

Mirror one way
The other responds
One equals one
And so it goes on

You ruin my life
You will suffer too
You sell me an apple
You'll dance in the shoes

Love Poem | Yolanda Cowan

Haven House

Inside my home the world is not black.
I see visual reminders of what is good,
reasons for waking up each morning,
and constant reminders that I am loved.

My home offers a quiet, peaceful serenity.
It is a place of emotional refuge.
It was the only thing that seemed right
when everything else seemed so wrong.

As I closed the door of the only life I knew,
my home was the one stable aspect that remained.
Taken for granted for so many years,
I now respect it.

Welcome to the Blog | Dr. Petersen

About half of you have requested permission to sign up for the blog, and that's great. I have sent invitations to those first students. Remember, that you're publishing here, so make sure that your entries don't have distracting errors.

After we have a couple of assignments up here, I'm going to start assigning what I call Rhizomic Posts. Rhizomes are lateral, branching root structures that reach out across ideas and help us make connections. Your Rhizomatic Posts will be ones in which you read new material your colleagues are posting to the blog and old material that other students from past classes have posted and connect that material to what I talk about in class.

You'll want to know how to create hyperlinks in your post and here's how. Use the following code, minus the outer most set of quotation marks.

<a href="http://www.samplelink.com">Link Text</a>.

Make sure that you enclose that statement inside of the two side carats and type the code yourself. Don't try to copy and paste; it'll just mess you up.

I'll post more information on the Rhizomatic Posts in a little while, but practice putting links into your personal blog. It's really cool to write with links in mind. It's called hypertext, in case you need to know that for Jeopardy or Trivial Pursuit or something.