Not really any good.

Blissful Wishes
Blissful dreams
Blissful smiles
Blissful butterflies

A wish to be with you
And dreams of kidding you
I smile when I hear your name
I get butterflies when you catch my eyes

Poem

The whole world expects.
Expects me to put on a pretty mask,
Expects me to act as if nothing is wrong.
The whole world wishes.
Wishes I could help them.
Wishing things I cannot grant.
The whole world falls on my shoulders.
Fall and crushes me,
Falls and shatters at my feet.
The whole world wants.
Wants me to shine,
Wants me to succeed.
The whole world needs me,
When I need no one.
It always calls when I’m in pain.
The whole world expects me to stay.
Even when I want to walk away.

Dancer or Disciple?

Ms. E's Creative Writing Two, Third block: The place where dances are made. We have Dani's signature dance move: The Kayak; We have MCat's signature move: The Shopping Cart; We have Kelly/mine/Kacie's signature move: The Helen Keller; We have my new move, too: The Broken Tree Branch. =] The greatest thing about it is, we are FREE to dance.


Dancing has always been apart of my life because everyday when I am sitting at my computer, doing absolutely nothing, I stare at the picture hanging on the wall in front of me. It's a picture of Jesus and Peter dancing on water. Why? Because my mom's friend painted it for her because of a dream my mother had one night.

In her dream, she witnesses Jesus and Peter out on the water. She says that in her dream, when Jesus called Peter out to walk on the water, Peter went, but after he sinks and Jesus asks, "Oh, ye of little faith, why do you doubt me?" ((That is my favorite Bible verse; it has gotten me through fifteen, almost sixteen years of my life)) he stands up and doesn't walk back to the boat with Jesus. No, he dances back to that boat! This isn't some Walk-A-Thon! This is a celebration for He is God's LIVING Son and he still takes our hands and pulls us up from the waves.

Peter is by far my favorite disciple. Because in those verses ((Matthew 14: 25-36)) Jesus doesn't call just Peter to come out. Peter said, "Sir, if it is really you, tell me to come over to you, walking on the water." Of course, Jesus did. He said, "All right, come along." He didn't say, "Okay, Peter, bring it," he simple said to come. ANY disciple could have come out and walked on that water, but Peter was the only one who went. Peter had enough faith to step out of the boat, even though he sank, he went.

So, should we sit back in the boat and watch? Or should we be the ones to step out of the boat? Step out of the boat and be a Peter.


This blog is dedicated to my wonderful mother who has shown me all the ways to be a good woman and Christian.

Another 180, Danielle

One more bruise to add to the many.
One more scar to remember.
One more wound from the battle.
One more loss to add to the few.
One more step backwards,
One more step away from you.
One more fall to add to the list.
One more tear to cry.
One more blow from Satan's pain.
One more, one more, one more,
One more reason I can't have you.

Merry Christmas, Beach

Not exactly 'happy' but not emo. Enjoy yourself, Dani.


I have a world.
Where the grass is blue
And the sky is green.
Where children can roam
And parents won’t have to worry.

I have a world.
Where you give more than you take
And everyday is about loving.
Where people can marry whoever
And no one will judge.

I have a world.
Where it’s about love, not strength,
And everyone is equal.
Where people can dance without question
And sing along with the birds.

"You're Strong, Momma"

My mom picked me up from school today and took me to the furniture store to pick up one couch and two bookcases. In agony, I go with her. We got home and got the bookcases out of the van fine but when we got to the couch, it was a little bit more difficult.

"You're strong, Momma! We got this."

She looked up at me while holding the couch with all her strength. She had a sparkle in her eyes as if she was looking at a five year old version of myself.

"Once, when you were five," she told me, "you told me the same thing. You were grounded from the TV for some reason." She laughed for a second before starting back. "Your daddy had taken the TV and put it on the floor in our room. This must have been when we were at Flatwoods," she added in. "Dad was out of town the day you were supposed to get it back and you were so determined to get it back. I told you that you'd have to wait, but you told me, 'Momma, you are just as strong as him. You are strong, Mommy. You can do it.' So, I put the TV on a beach towel and drug it out of our room, down the hall and into the living room. I got to the TV stand and heaved it up and onto the stand while you just stood there behind me and cheered 'You got it!' Then, when I turned back to you, you jumped up and down and we danced around the room celebrating the return of the TV."

"Haha," I laughed. "You are strong, Mom. We can do this."

And together, Mom and I picked the couch out of the van and onto the garage floor.

"Vaccum it," she told me as she walked inside, out of breath, for water.

"New and IMPROVED New Moon" dedicated to Harley Englebert and Taylor Clifton

Ten years later…Continued

I was lying on the bathroom floor holding my stomach. Morning sickness. My clothes were raggedy and dirty. Fredward came into help me.
“Okay?” he asked knowing good and well I wasn’t.
“You’re lucky robots don’t give birth. Well, guys in general.”
“I know,” he smirked. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
He closed the toilet seat. He picked me up and sat me down. He sat down next to me on the edge of the bathtub.
“I have to go,” he said, “People are getting suspicious and I need to hide this.” He showed no emotion.
“But don’t you think it’d be more suspicious to leave your wife and eleven kids with one on the way?” I shot back at him quickly.
“No one can know, though. I’m a robot, Hun. Get used to it,”
“You cold, cold person. Robots really don’t have hearts do they?”
He looked back at me and flinched. I knew that had gotten him.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Wait,” I said sadly, “Where are you going?”
“Germany.”
“Why?”
“Not all robots are perfect like me. You see, only German robots and humans too, are perfect. Perfect skin. Perfect hair. Be careful. Don’t do anything that would harm the baby.” As soon as he was finished with his sentence, he left, closing the door behind him.
I put my head in my hands and cried. Did he really just leave? I asked myself.
“Mommy,” I heard from outside the door, “Where did Daddy go?”
I pulled myself to my feet and walked to the door. When I opened the door, I could see all eleven kids flooded in my room crying. I bent down and hugged them all.
“He went to his hometown,” I said quickly. “He’ll be back soon.”
“But, Mommy,” they all seemed to say at once.
“We will be okay. He’ll only be gone a few weeks. We can make it. Okay, okay, everyone up. Go wash your faces. Get ready for school. Come on.”
I followed them out of my room and into the kitchen. Five of them were around the sink trying to wash up at the same time. The rest were running around trying to get there last minute things done.
“Bus!”
The swarm of kids ran out of the kitchen and out the front door. I watched from the porch as they all pilled onto the once empty bus. As the bus drove off, I walked back into the house and quickly got dressed. I grabbed the keys off my dresser as I threw on my shoes.
I waddled outside and hopped into my truck cranking it up quickly. I keyed in “La Pull” into my GPS and waited on directions as I pulled out of our driveway.
As I drove down the street, I pulled my cell phone and dialed my father.
“Hello?” He answered after the second beep.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey. Something wrong?” He asked immediately.
“No, no. Nothing is wrong. Just, where does Bocaj live?”
“La Pull,” he replied.
“I know that,” I said, “But where in La Pull?”
“First house after the ‘Welcome to La Pull’ sign coming from the East.”
“Okay! Thanks. I have to go. Bye,” I said before hanging up the phone.
I turned the radio on to my favorite station, 10.12 F.M. and “I’ll Be” came blasting through the speakers.
I found Bocaj’s house without any problem. I guess I didn’t need the GPS. Right as I pulled up, he ran out to my car.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said as he opened my door. “Wow,” He said when he saw my stomach, “You’re pregnant.” He sighed. “Again.”
Bocaj was my friend from second grade and I knew whenever I needed something, he’d be glad to do it.
“You were alienated, weren’t you?” he asked as he walked me up the drive way.”
“How, do you, know?” I hesitated.
“I can’t say… Here.”
“Okay.”
We walked inside his house and walked down a flight of stairs to the basement.
“I am an alien,” he said.
“What?” I asked stunned by his bluntness.
“I am. So, how are you?”
“I’m good. I want to do something… Reckless.”
“But you are pregnant.”
“I know. I’m mad at Fredward and I want to get back at him by putting our baby in harm.”
“That makes no sense. But okay. I know something we can do.”
“What?” I asked intrigued.
“Follow me.”
He stood up and took my hand. He helped me up gently. As he led me through the basement, he didn’t let go of my hand.
“There,” he said as he pointed to two unused scooters.
“Let’s do it.”
“Okay,” he said as he picked them both up with one hand.
He led me back up the stairs and out the door.
He dropped one of the scooters and handed me the other.
“You know how to ride, right?”
“I have eleven, almost twelve kids. Of course I know.”
“Right,” he laughed to himself. “Follow me.”
He took off quickly and flew down the street.
“Hurry,” he called back.
We rode for an hour before we even got to somewhere reckless.
“Where are we?” I asked as I dodged a tree branch that fell through the air.
“Outskirts of La Pull. Never been down her?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Watch your head,” he said cautiously.
“I picked up on that,” I said as we reached a huge, downward hill.
“Can you handle it?”
Say no. Turn back now.
“Come on,” Bocaj said.
Don’t do it.
“I’m going to do this,” I told the voice in my head.
I asked you to be careful.
I pushed my foot against the ground and flew down the hill. The wind felt nice against my face.
I was enjoying the ride for more than just one reason. I was glad to see Bocaj again, for one. And I was glad to hear his voice.
I reached the end of the hill when a huge tree fell right across the road.
BAM!
November
December
January
February
March
April
I woke up to find myself in a hospital bed. Bocaj was sitting in the chair next to me sleeping. I pushed the nurse button and waited for a nurse to come in.
“Oh, my cousin! You’re up,” said the nurse as she came in. She was short with light, brown hair. “My name is Raylla.”
“Raylla?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Odd name, isn’t it? My mom liked ‘Rachel’ and my dad liked ‘Lela’ so they put it together and got ‘Raylla.’”
“Interesting,” I thought about Fredward. “What happened?”
“You hit your head. Scooters really are dangerous if you think about it. You and your baby are both healthy, so don’t worry. It’s January and you are due next month, right?”
I nodded.
“Good. You should be back in perfect health by then.”
I nodded again.
“Bocaj, I think, has been here everyday since you came. You are a very lucky girl to have him.”
I nodded out of confusion that time. Bocaj had a life he should have been living instead of spending all his time her.
“We got a call from a young lady named Alejandra saying that a certain Fredward was on his way to see you. Brother?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Oh, then,” she looked awkward, “Okay. The doctor will come in a minute to check things. We are glad you are up.”
“Bocaj!” I yelled as I threw my pillow at him.
“What? What?” he asked as he waved his arms in the air blocking the pillow.
“Fredward is on his way.”
“No, he isn’t,” he didn’t sound worried.
“The nurse-“
“-is wrong. Part of being an alien,” he said in a whisper, “is that I know what is about to happen. He isn’t coming. He is going to kill himself.” He looked at me sympathetically. “However a robot does that,” he said to himself.
“You know?”
“Honey,” he said as he took my hand, “I knew before he did.”
“Oh.”
“You going to go try to stop him?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Why not?”
I sighed. “He was a horrible husband. And father. Plus, the way you make me feel,” I trailed off.
He stood up out of his chair and lend over me. He looked at me in the eyes and lowered himself to me.
“Don’t make me come all the way,” he joked.
I leaned forward off the bed and landed on his soft, warm lips.
“Hey, now, watch it,” a tall, dark man said as he entered the room.
Bocaj stepped away from the bed and sat back down in the chair in the corner of the hospital room.
“Doctor?” I asked hopeful.
“Yes,” he said as he checked some charts.
“How are my kids? Where are they staying? Are they safe?” I asked in a panic.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” he answered calmly. “They are with Bocaj’s father. Just a few a miles away from here. Would you like to call them?”
“Please.”
I watched as the doctor left the room.
“Here,” Bocaj said as he handed me the phone from the corner of the room. “I dialed the number already.”
I took the phone and listened as the rings continued.
“Hello,” a voice from the other end answered.
“Honey!” I called, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Mom. Calm down. Do you want us to come over?”
“Yes,” I sobbed into the phone, “Please.”
“We will be there in a second. Bye.”
I handed the phone back to Bocaj and watched him put it back on the receiver.
“They’ll be here in a minute,” I said to Bocaj.
“Good,” he replied.
We sat in silence as we waited on the kids on to arrive.

June…
“Little John,” I said as the nurse put my new born baby boy in my arms.
“Welcome to the family,” Bocaj said to John as he looked down at us.
“Family,” I said back, “is the most important thing in the world.”
Bocaj leaded over me and kissed me softly on my forehead then turned and did the same to John.

4/9 ((Sorry my poems don't have names))

The bitterness in the night
hits me like heavy metal.
No blanket can warm my soul.
I die my slow death.
To want what you can't have,
is childish and foolish.
I miss the sound of laughter in the air,
my laughter and your laughter together.
Together, you and me,
together sounds so nice.
But I am alone,
with my heart's empty hole.
The clostest thing to hold
is the music in my ears.
Tears fall down
and hit my knees.
Together will never be.

4/1

My hands are bruised,
my arms are cut,
and my back always aches.
Between the sighs and moans of everyday,
my heart becomes a hole.
Where you once stood,
your footprints stay forever.
While I still love, you love again.
Your vioce plays in my dreams,
and your face haunts my smile,
for I only smile when I see you.
Your name is like posion,
it runs through my body and I cringe.
But I long to hear it said.
You will forever be my Love.

4/1

I wondered into the woods to find a peice of mind.
I wondered to a place that no human knows.
It is my place now; a place only I know.
A place were you feel no sorrow or pain.
You slip and slide, but you never fall.
The red dirt collects the blood of those who pass,
so that no thorn will ever make you bleed.

I wondered to a plce where I learned,
I lreaned why the birds sing,
why the snake slivers,
why the bee stings.
I learned that in this land no one is unprotected.
I learned to lean again against a tree instead.
I learned no to lose confidence in me.

In this land, no one suffers or dies.
We live long, and we all prosper.
A hand does not callas.
A foot does not tear.
I travel farther everyday, deeper and deeper,
only to find myself right back at the beginning
to find myself wishing I could dissapear.

4/1

I sink into the ground,
the trees still breath,
no one saves me.

I catipult into the air,
the rock stays there,
no one saves me.

I fall to my kneews,
the ants still move,
no one saves me.

I lose my grip,
the water sits still,
no one saves me.

I yell out in need,
the bear still feeds,
no one saved me.

I pray to you my plead,
the grass still needs,
This time, God saves me.

4/1

I sit in a tunnel of darkness,
waiting on some kind of pain.
No matter who or where it comes from.
I just want to feel anything.
I reach out to people,
no to help or to hold,
but set myself up
to feel the pain I long for,
to feel the thorn slowly twist in my side.
I pick at the scabs
to bring back pain I never felt
to relive my greatest worst moments.
I lock myself in a cage,
not to restrict, but you restrain.
I sip my favorite posion,
I sink in my favorite state of numbness.
I no longer live to live,
but I live to die,
to feel my favorite feelings.
Emptiness, darkness, and numbness.

3/31

In a game of duck, duck, goose,
do you sit around waiting,
or get up and run?
Do you wait to get noticed,
or do you already stand out?
Are you bland and dull,
or colorful and bold?
I am untranslatable,
for I am a goose.
But you are translatable
because you are what they say you are.
I dance when you are still.
I skip when you walk.
I speak when you are silent.
And I find myself,
while you conform to your cosiety.
Where you are just another duck,
I am the great, graceful goose.