Room Description

The sound of keys tapping furiously create a rhythmic pattern that rings throughout the crowded room. Quiet chatter flows from the mouths of many who sit at the paper white desks trying to complete the task at hand. Sweet fruity perfume meshes with powerful cologne and dusty old books to create an unappealing smell that stings my nostrils. Each breath I take sends a tingling sensation to the back of my throat from the minty flavor that is magnified from the cool crisp air. The old metal chairs move back and forth on the tile flooring, leaving behind dark black marks with each loud squeaking noise. The tired droopy look on each students face is an indication that the day is slowing wrapping up, another day come and gone.

Hide

You say you’re happy,
That the world is on your side,
That life is a smooth road
And you enjoy the ride.

But your eyes they tell a different story,
One that’s filled with pain,
One that says you struggle to see,
The sun through all the rain.

You say that life is wonderful,
You love who you’ve become,
That with each and every step you take,
You feel you find the sum.

But if one were to look deeper,
You know that they would see,
You weep night and day,
Because you don’t know who to be.

You sit there with a smile,
And act like it’s all good,
Like you have everything you need and more
Than you ever thought you could.

But behind that smile hides the truth.
The truth that you have lost,
The one that you need the most,
at an insurmountable cost.

You move along from day to day,
With a smile and tricked eyes.
You laugh and love and do all you can,
To hide behind the lies.

But at the end of the day,
When you can stop the show,
Your smile quickly fades away,
And no one even knows.

Your eyes come out and speak the truth.
It kills you to live with how you feel.
And you weep night and day to know,
That all you hide is real.

Shrink Poem--Golf Season

Golf was absolutely ridiculous.
The ridiculous rules,
at the ridiculous country club.
The ridiculous snow covering the ground still
halfway through our ridiculous season.
That sandwedge I snapped in half was ridiculous.
Ridiculous golf hats and yellow shirts.
Ridiculous practices where we did nothing.
Those ridiculous cheaters from Sisters.
Ridiculous bee that stung me on the tee box.
Ridiculous "Big Red" whom shot a ridiculous 182.
The ridiculous daily trips to Eagle Crest for ridiculous practice.
Our ridiculous coach in her green and purple sweat pants.
Our ridiculous excuses not to hit that ridiculous ball with that ridiculous club.
Ridiculous drama over ridiculous boys.
Ridiculous attempts to run and lift weights.
The ridiculous fundraiser tournament with,
those ridiculous boys that sat on their lazy butts all day.
Ridiculous range picking.
The ridiculous sleepovers we had,
watching ridiculous Rock of Love,
and eating ridiculous amounts of junk food.
Our ridiculous plan to avoid hitting range,
by playing a ridiculous round of miniature golf.
Ridiculous sunburns.
Ridiculous Rick and his ridiculous ways.
The ridiculous car I hit with my ridiculously horrific sand shot.
Our ridiculous thirty stroke victory at District.
Ridiculous Crook County crying over their ridiculously pathetic defeat.
Ridiculous practice round at the ridiculous OGA course.
Ridiculous trees and rocks and water.
The state tournament was completely ridiculous with the rain and hail and wind.
Our ridiculous state championship,
after our ridiculously aweful scores.
The ridiculous after-party at Eagle Crest,
running through ridiculous sprinklers and
dancing ridiculously to Britney Spears.
Ridiculous award banquet with our ridiculously embarrassing coach.
Ridiculous ridiculous golf season.

Oh how I loved it!

Rain

Rain
By Shel Silverstein


I opened my eyes And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And it flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.


I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand-
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Reflection:

I enjoyed this poem because of its rhyme scheme and its symbolism. I love how the poem has perfect rhyme scheme that uses the same vowel sounds such as "rain, brain, head, bed." This makes the poem much easier to read and it creates a nice flowing effect that allows the words to roll off of your tongue. I also liked the overall theme of the poem that seemed to be an inner struggle that was making the speaker behave in unusual ways. I think it is clever how the theme is developed through symbolism. I interpreted the poet as using rain to symbolize an inner struggle within the speaker. This struggle is weighing the individual down and is not allowing him to do the things that he wants to do. Overall, I love how the whole poem was put together using rhyme scheme and symbolism to get the poems theme across to the audience.

Courage Is...

Courage Is…
By: The Strange Familiar

Take all my viscous words and turn them into something good
Take all my preconceptions and let the truth be understood
Take all my prized possessions and leave only what I need
Take all my pieces of doubt and let me be what's underneath

Courage is when you're afraid
but you keep on moving anyway
Courage is when you're in pain
but you keep on living anyway

We all have excuses why living in fear something in us dies
Like a bird with broken wings, it’s not how high he flies but the song he sings

Courage is when you're afraid
but you keep on moving anyway
Courage is when you're in pain
but you keep on living anyway
you keep on living anyway

It's not how many times you've been knocked down
It's how many times you get back up

Courage is when you've lost your way
but you found your strength anyway
Courage is when you're afraid
Courage is when it all seems grey
Courage is when you make a change
and you keep on living anyway

You keep on moving anyway
You keep on giving anyway
You keep on loving anyway

Remember

I remember,

That evening,
At the Ocean.
The cool wet sand
Beneath my toes.

The warm wind blowing
Through my hair.
The waves crashing
Upon the shore.

The seagulls hollering,
From up above.
The orange and red sun,
Descending,
Behind the water.

The twinkle of the first bright star
In the darkening sky.
The salty moist air, filling my lungs,
With each breath.

The seashell resting on the smooth sand,
Waiting to be carried away by the sinuous water.
The warmth of his hand
Embracing mine.

The silence of all things,
Except wholesome nature.
The perfect serenity,
Of that exact moment.

The sheer memory,
Is devine.

Path

Path

Her destination is unknown.
She is stretched
and travels afar,
alongside the river.

Her solid foundation rests upon
the soft soil that's underneath.
Those that walk with her are touched,
by the beauty that surrounds her.

She wants to go were her heart desires,
but with every turn she takes,
she is brought back to the river's edge
to lead people along the way.

She is not all smooth.
Her bumps and cracks show through
as the times when people walked all over her,
with little care.

The sun beats down upon her day after day-
breaking her down.
The rain and snow cover her like blanket,
and she slowly loses her strength.

Despite all that she has endured,
she remains a strong foundation.
Because she knows she holds the key
to the serenity, the hope, and the beauty,
people long to see in life.

I Am Me- Immitation

I Am Me
By Lanee Danforth

The instructor said,

Go home and imitate
this poem by Langston Hughes.
Make it all your own-
then it will be true.

How do I make this my own?
I am nothing special, just a girl.
I am seventeen, born in Grants Pass.
I went to school there, then Prineville, then here,
to Bend High, the best school there is.
I am among many other students like myself,
yet I feel alone in my confused and questioning mind.
I leave the school, get into my car, and drive,
over the railroad tracks and past the river to my house.
I get out, go inside, sit down, and write this page:

It is not easy to be sure of yourself
at seventeen, my age. But I guess I am what
I believe and see and feel. I believe in doubt.
Not knowing who, what, when, where, or why.
(I see and feel blurred images racing by too) Maybe-myself?

Well I know what I like,
but not who I am.
I like to play, laugh, learn, love, and live.
I like the beach, sunsets, clouds, and rain.
I do not know where my road may lead,
the chase for what is, is my drive for success.
Am I different from everyone else-
or am I just another face in the crowd?
I guess we are all the same in a sense,
each of us are struggling to find the truth.
The truth about ourselves, about what is and what is not.
We are all here believing, seeing, and feeling.
We are all human.
However, something sets us apart-
perhaps the same thing that draws us together.
I am not just a girl, or a face in the crowd-I am me.
I am unsure, undefined, and determined.
You say that others are the same- that we are all the same, but that we are not.
We are that of which we choose to believe, see, and feel.
I am unique, I am special, I am simply me.

This is what my own page turned out to be.

Welcome

Hey, this is Lanee! Welcome to my blog. I am 17 and now a senior. I play basketball and golf for Bend High. I like to play sports, hang out with friends, watch movies, go to the beach, camp, and just enjoy life! I am excited for creative writing and for my last year of high school. I am looking forward to making this the most fun and memorable year of my life!