Writing Challenge #3
 

Alright, sorry last week was so hard! Hang in there!


Here's what to Do:


Part 1: Write describing an emotion, any form of writing that you wish.


Part 2, for those who want an extra challenge: Write about an emotion from the perspective of a 5 year old child.

MMMM, this should prove to be interesting. And the extra is a great touch amonkie

This should be extra tough for me, because I have a 5 year old. If I didn't have any children, I'd think I understand them. But, being a father, I have to admit that I'm completely stumped. I'll get to work.

here is mine. its not exactly what you asked for but when i thought of emotions this is what was written.

What is an emotion?

An emotion is so intense that it can cripple you in a moment
An emotion can take you to incredible highs and lows with nothing more than an image
It can make you laugh so hard that you think you will burst
It can make you cry so hard that you wonder what life is about

An emotion can be experienced by simply waking and walking out the front door
An emotion can be so deeply imbedded that you can question your very humanity
They can be so strong that complete strangers can bond in a single moment
They can be so weak that even the closest friends or lovers question what they have

An emotion can cause you to love so intensely that the mere thought of loosing that love is worse than death
An emotion can be such a loathing that it can sicken you to the bowels of existence
They can cause you to search the endless reaches of the earth and beyond
They can make you regret your very life so much that you can no longer go on

An emotion can be so powerful that you wonder how you lived without it yet dread its very existence at the same time
An emotion can be the very essence of your life yet the very curse of your existence
The very thought of life would not exist if even the most basic emotions could not be felt
They can be like a lone ember waiting to turn into a raging inferno or to be squelched for all eternity


MARVIN DRAKE 2005

Fear

That undefined sensation
sent shivers down my spine
it seems to have relation
to terrors in my mind
of shadows in the corner
and demons in my past
the future and the former
revenge from when I'm crass
This feeling in my spirit
of darkness in my soul
is all that keeps me honest
what truly makes me whole



Daddy

Please don't turn the light out
'cause then I never see
The monster in my closet
who wants to get at me
He is afraid of brightness
like I'm afraid of night
So please dont turn the light out
and then I'll be alright

The tickling chill you get when you hear that voice
A glow everyone notices when you speak the name
Total loss and melancholy when they aren't around
The smallest of incidents you are willing to share
Closeness in thought
Unspoken words understood
Knowing, content, complete
********
I know my mommy loves me
Cuz she lets me have cookies before bed
And doesn't yell if I drop one
And she reads to me if I ask her to
And when I fall down, she gives me a hug
So my crying won't feel so bad

Great start guys - and high_way, I love your take on it! :)

Anger is quite a healthy emotion.

First of all, your blood pressure rises. This also happens when you lift weights. Lifting weights, as we all know, is healthy. Therefore, anger is healthy for you.

You can pretty much depend on your breathing increasing, sometimes drastically, depending on the level of your anger. Therefore it is obviously aerobic. We all know that aerobic exercise is good for your heart. Therefore, anger is healthy for you.

It certainly is a well-known fact that anger can lead to violence. I don’t think that there is any doubt that a good altercation can be quite invigorating. Jumping, kicking, wildly swinging your arms, screaming, ducking, getting knocked down, getting up, and yes…running, are all activities that are common during an altercation. Who amongst us can deny that these endeavors are an athletic activity? Therefore, anger is healthy for you.

When carrying a concealed weapon, anger comes into play constantly. Do I overlook that sarcastic sales clerk or just shoot him? Instead of leaving a nice tip for that inconsiderate and slow waitress do I fire off several rounds at her after I pay the bill? The auto mechanic who lies about your needing a gas filter, just shoot him? These are all serious decisions that are made constantly throughout your working day, which affect your basic heart-lung-brain function. Therefore, anger is healthy for you.

There are angry situations in our lives too numerous to mention. While seething and rushing to judgment to maim or kill, look at your occasional or constant anger as a benefit. Anger is healthy for you.

wrap it up and weight it
with pieces of masonary
From the dirty old wall
That runs next to the pub
Where my father used to drink
Before I killed him
When he was dreaming
When I was still in limbo
Still in dreamland.
I bit off each of his fingers
Right down to the palm of his hand
I cut open the chest
Of a dead raven I found
Stuffed a handful of daddy inside
And it came to life
An explosion of screeches
That terrified me
And it flew right for him
And pecked out his eye's
Silly dumb fuck
He couldnt fight back
He only had bloody little stumps for hands
And he was dead drunk
Poor silly fuck
He couldnt see
Where he was going
And he ran in front of a truck
They had to scrape his body
Off the road and tyres
With an old man's shovel
Oh, he'll never be able to clear
The snow from his driveway
And not think of it
Again.


This is a very slightly rewritten part of a poem I wrote a few months ago, I hope that that doesnt break the rules!

I guess it is obvious what emotion I am feeling in here!

as a five year old:

words that spin me
round and round
and make me dizzy
always shouting
always spinning
I want to run
And scream and scream
But I am too afraid
Of what is hidden
Behind corners
Behind closed doors
Behind the curtains
A monster roar
And I'll scream and scream
Until I disappear

Indolence

[a. F. indolence (16th c.), or directly ad. L. indolntia freedom from pain, insensibility (Cicero), n. of quality f. in- (IN-3) + dolnt-em, pres. pple. of dolre to be pained.]

1. Insensibility or indifference to pain; want of feeling. Obs.

1603 HOLLAND Plutarch's Mor. 69 Clemencie and Mildnesse, [they say it is the meane] betweene senselesse Indolence and Crueltie. [What is the mean? What can Plutarch not say?] 1706 [see INDOLENCY 1]. 1723 Pres. State Russia I. 153 A Russian values neither Life nor Death, and undergoes capital Punishment with unparalleled Indolence. Indolence as lack of emotion, lack of empathy, the fiction of unmovedness

2. Freedom from pain; a state of rest or ease, in which neither pain nor pleasure is felt. Obs.

1656 STANLEY Hist. Philos. IV. (1701) 135/1 Indolence, which Epicurus held, they esteem not pleasure, nor want of pleasure..for Indolence is like the state of a sleeping Man is like the state of a sleeping Man is like the state of a sleeping Man. 1702 S. PARKER tr. Cicero's De Finibus ii. 56 D'you know, said I, what Hieronymus Rhodius has allotted for the Summum Bonum? I know, said Torquatus, he resolves it into Nihil dolere, Mere Indolence. 1713 BERKELEY Hylas & Phil. I. Wks. 1871 I. 269, I could rather call it an indolence. It seems to be nothing more than a privation of both pain and pleasure. 1751 EARL OF ORRERY Remarks Swift (1752) 113 That tranquility of mind, and indolence of body which he made his chief ends. A sleeping Man a Stoic Man a Dreaming Man.

b. Path. Absence of pain (in a tumour: cf. INDOLENT 1).

1758 J. S. Le Dran's Obs. Surg. (1771) 219 The Pain or Indolence of the Tumour indicates the Quality of the Contents. Emotion is a process, attendant upon intentionality, a way of designating a mode as if it were an object. There is a question of Qualities understood as predicates. In The Pain or Indolence of the Tumour indicates the Quality of the Contents the tumor is a Thing Itself, which would make it unknowable. Predicates in principle would be attached to the a determinable X: Tumor. The Predicates are not recountable. All that makes the Tumor knowable is the presence or absence of pain. Pain is not an emotion. Pain is a criterion for evaluation. Qualities attached to Pain are evaluative, not substantive.

3. The disposition to avoid trouble; love of ease; laziness, slothfulness, sluggishness.

1710 STEELE Tatler No. 132 1 Heavy honest Men, with whom I have passed many Hours with much Indolence. I fell to drinking with heavy honest men. I passed many hours speaking of Indolence. 1784 JOHNSON Let. to Langton 12 July, That voluntary debility which modern language is content to term indolence. It indicates an absence but nonetheless moves you register to register across a regress that takes you away away from description. 1816 SCOTT Fam. Lett. 14 Nov. (1894) I. xii. 376 He is one of the many many hundreds in whom indolence has strangled genius. 1844 H. H. WILSON Brit. India I. 23 Passing his days in indolence and indulgence. He is one of the many many hundreds in whom indolence has strangled genius. 1878 R. W. DALE Lect. Preach. iii. 63 Some men fail as preachers through intellectual indolence. I am one of the many many hundreds in whom indolence has strangled genius.

Such as a human heart can beat
into the mind
There , inside lay lifes reasons
there to find
Tender perhaps, in my purring soul
contented sleep
Awaiting the stroking fingertips of Venus
in Bliss I weep
Unwrapped, this is love



Mommy loves me
Daddy hugs me
Kitty licks me
Brother Kicks me
Grampa tricks me
Grammas dead

But Grammas love is in my head

tecoyah, I always love reading your writing. *back to hide in the shadows*

He has a puffy face from the meds and his fucking lips are blue. He shuffles when he walks , as though his feet can only move 2 inches apart at a time. What is more upsetting is that he has realized I can not think of a single thing to say , and he is very kind about it. He says "it's good to see you" and he even means it. I bought in to all that S.E. Hinton Outsiders philosophy at a young age. You know, don't let them see you cry , Pony Boy! Do it for Johnny!!! I do not cry, but I could have. As he makes his way up the street, I can not help thinking he looks content, and I wonder if maybe this is a good thing for him..............

Charred timber crumbles in my hands
My way here now drowned in murky darkness
Smudges of charcoal begin to disappear
Their initial resistance quickly yielding
Much like those quickly dying flames
Anger controlling in haste
But the bridge, I've already burned
And left myself on this side alone
to wish my way safely back.

Mommy! Mommy!
I'm scared! I need you!
Why does my daddy answer?
Why only him and not you?

My mommy's gone away,
I think she's forgotten me,
Maybe she'll come back,
Everyday I wait to see.

Daddy has tried to explain to me,
he says that my mommy's very sick,
I pretend to know what he means,
but I don't know words like "alcoholic".

I am too little to get it,
that's what Daddy said,
as I stare at him blankly,
he tucks me in bed.

Each day I look out our window,
imagining her in our portico,
Mommy walks up to our front door,
any minute now Mommy will show.

I miss you much more each day,
memories are trapped in the past,
Daddy is taking good care of me,
all of our time goes by very fast.

Mommy, why are you an alcoholic?
Why does it keep you far away?
Don't you love me anymore, Mommy?
When will you be home to stay?

So each night Daddy tucks me in,
we say a prayer before goodnight,
Daddy always shows me lots of love,
and he knows to leave on the hall light.

My daddy tries to explain,
that Mommy is not well,
I don't say anything to him,
I won't come out of my shell.

All I think about is Mommy,
think about her all day long,
she'll be home tomorrow,
I know I can remain strong.

I still don't get what Daddy says,
I don't know why Mommy's sick,
and I won't ever understand,
a word as big as "alcoholic".

Amnesia- this is awesome.


Great job everybody! Remember, if you ever have any ideas, send them my way! Just a couple more days before next week....

Just also wanted to say great to see the new faces in here!

*sighs* I am officially stumped by this one. I have no inspiration at all. Gods, I hate being completely Muse driven sometimes.

*grins*

Ah, well, I'll just have to wait until the next challenge.

I guess what I did was wrong...but I never could have thought this would happen. Am I still wicked even if I didn't want this to happen? If I wish I had never done it? Well why not...I knew what I was doing was wrong. It was the kind of thing that you do even though you know you shouldn't, only because you know no one will ever find out...like when I wipe my boogers under mommy's car seat while she isn't looking. But they will find out. What can I do? I can sneak into mommy's car and scrape them all off, so no proof is left...but if I flush Goldy-Locks down the toilet, that's only more proof. If I put her back in, and pretend like I didn't notice that she stopped swimming and started floating, would that work? What do I mean work? Nothing will work, she is dead, and it's my fault. Am I worried about being yelled at? There's nothing they can tell me that I haven't already discovered.

_____

If you cant tell, the emotion is guilt. not sure how good that is, it was pretty hard to try to do guilt from a 5 y.o.'s perspective. Pretty hard to write without big words too.

Frustration of a 5 year old....

Why doesn't this make sense? I can't figure out what this all means. I draw beautifully and then my teacher says it isn't good or isn't right. I look over the chalkboard and I copy the pictures perfectly and out of order like she does on the board. Yet when I do it, she sends me back to my seat or erases it for me and tells me to try again. These pictures don't look like people or animals like I usually draw, but I'm getting good at it. But whenever Friday comes around I can't remember what these pictures are supposed to say. She stands beside me and says '/t/../t/../t/' and I stare at the 26 new pictures and I don't know which one to write. Why is it that I can draw so neatly, but I can't remember what they say?

**inspired by one of my students...now if I could only help him more :(

That strikes a chord shesus .... and makes me think .... poor kid.

My tears brim,
along my eye's,
a light, unholy,
in the sky.

I am so strong,
yet muscels are frail,
cant capture the one,
of which my heart tells,
the one, of holy veils,
of mystery and love,
cannot be concealed.

I know not all,
and never shall,
yet with her,
my world is heaven,
so unlike hell,
in which torment,
is the only daily bliss,
who am I to want more,
yet I allways gained less.

I look in the mirror,
where are you love?
here in alaska or afar,
on wings alight,
drifting far in the sky,
sunshine slowly going by,
I search for you,
my love, my heart,
a romance that hopefully,
that shall, once met,
never depart.

I will try to make a part for part 2 of the challange later..

Inspired by writing of children....Love

I love my mommy because she buys me clothes.
I love my mommy because she takes me to the store.
I love my mommy because she bakes cookies and makes me food.
I love my mommy because she tucks me in at night and gives me goodnight kisses.
And oh yea...since the teacher reminded me...I love my mommy because she gave my life.

wow, just wow. Everyone is doing such an amazing job and i'm really enjoying this.

/me is a tfp Lit. lurker.

:)

sweetpea

There can be these fractured beats
in a heart held steady in love
there will be these times of pain
when such a burn meets flesh
there seems no escape from eyes so intent
on forcing emotions to see
there never was hope for me to be free
when you decided to love me

Part 1.

The regrets are timeless,
lodged in my mind,
our lives apart,
we left behind.

I left you,
you left me,
you could not stand,
could not let be.

Is it you,
or is it me,
cant believe,
the regrets that be.

I feel remorse,
over both our pain,
you cant understand,
what there was to gain.

We exchanged words,
yelled in vain,
yes we both felt it,
the regret the rage and pain.

Well thats it then,
all hearts break,
so hold me tighter,
for both yours and my sake.

Part 2.

I dont understand it,
these feelings that be,
so confused, that is me,
my feelings all ruffled,
jumbled in my head.

Just wondering,
a smile that never turns dread,
I am allways happy,
because I dont understand,
all the responsibility's,
of being a man.

I knew your love,
for what it was,
but I was selfish,
my emotions fitting in a glove.

Now your gone,
we forgot to forgive,
and like children,
did not know how to live.

- haha I liked that one. :hmm: :thumbsup:

TRUST (originally I wanted to write about trust between partners in a relationship, but got sidetracked by the foster children we cared for this weekend...)

I’m not supposed to go with strangers, or talk to people in uniforms. My mommy said I should hide in the basement, so here I am. I hear her scream, and I become scared. Someone is hurting my mommy! You smile at me with kind eyes, but all I see are my mother’s tears. You speak soothing words as you lift me into your strong arms. I have no choice and I submit without even a tear. I watch with eyes too wide as my mother is restrained and you walk out of my home. I don’t even notice how gently you carry me.

Your car doesn’t have flashy lights, but I didn’t need them to know you are a police officer. I know that police officers carry bad guys away to a scary place called jail. You place me in the back seat of your car, speaking soothing words I don’t really hear. It is clean, and smells funny. I don’t like it here and I start to cry as you buckle my seatbelt. Where am I going now? What will jail be like?

We pull up to a house with a big yard. There are other children playing there. I am told this is where I will live. I ask for my mommy every night, but no one ever answers me. You come to my new house and talk to me every now and then. You talk to my foster mom and you talk to my teachers. Then you go away and we don’t see you. I don’t see my mommy. She said she would always love me, that she would always be there.

I’ve lived in several houses since then, and now it’s time to leave again. My new mommy is coming to pick me up today. I’ve met her a few times, and played in her big house. I’ve seen my new room and new toys. I know my new daddy and my new brothers and sisters. They all say nice things to me. They tell me they love me and that they will never hurt me. They tell me they will never leave me. Maybe, just maybe, I should leave them before they get the chance.

I know that feeling. I remember it like a good dream. Soaring through the air, his strong hands around me. I reach up and ask him to do it again, but he tells me I'm getting too big. I feel a pain deep in my chest that won't go away. It makes me ask him again, but he keeps saying no. No matter how much I try, he tells me that I've had my fun, and it's time to stop. I give up. I hate giving up, but I give up. The pain is immense and I know my face falls into a sad look. I don't want to look sad, but I am. Imagine how happy I was, when while I walked away, I felt those strong hands again, and I rocketed up in the air. All I could do was smile as big as I could. The wind rushed around me, and I felt myself get dizzy, but I never wanted it to stop.

A broken heart crashes
down along side a shattered dream
An empty hand grasps
As tearful eyes gleam

Who thought one so young
would have to endure such pain
and that such a small thing
could cause emotions to run insane

A mother's soothing touch
causes tears to be choked back
and a faint smile to appear
though happiness he does lack

But even though tears no longer flow
and sadness is kept at bay
feelings of loss and regret still linger
from that fateful day

when I watched my balloon float away

can't smell the leather any more
slide my hand down past the junk
under the false bottom
fingers searching and finding
caught between my fingertips
drag the vial up and out
unscrew the lid
a few dashes onto the glass topped table
lids back on and the vial tucked back in its hiding place
razor blade fished out from behind the purse lining
a 20 out of the wallet
a few swift chops and drags of the blade
bill rolled with absentminded movement
the white lines glowing in the moonlight
completely capturing all attention
dip of the head and drawn out sniffs
upright again, absentmindedly replacing things
other hand absently wiping first nose, then table
the million needles you never get used to
a shake of the head, and back to the computer

********************************************************
********************************************************
get the milk out. ooooo heavy
get the mug. dont spill.
drag the chair from the table over to the coupboards
shhhhhhhhhhh
climb up, first onto the chair, then the counter
hold the cabinet door just right so the noise dosent happen
open the door fast, but not too fast, or it will squeak
stand up on the counter
tippy toes time
reach and strrrrrrrrrrrrrrretch
fingertips reaching all the way back
pinching the bag between 2 fingers and dragging it forward
catch it on the edge of the shelf just right
grab it, and set it down on the counter
sit on the counter
open the bag slooooooowly..
*cringe*
did they hear? quiet for a minute...
no.. still sleeping..
take 2 cookies out, roll the bag shut, just like mommy does
stand and put the cookies back, close the cabinet
climb down carefully... falling hurts
push the chair back to the table slowly
*grin*
time for cookies and milk

Midnight