Tuesday, September 30, 2014

I'm not falling behind

Diamonds and pearls, a girl's best friend-

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Free Write on a Nomad

Free Write on a Nomad
Darkness, darkness destruction
She has the life that every nomad wanted.
Tossing, turning thwarting up the hills of Duluth,
Cascading, blending, unraveling
down the steep inclines
watching her seasoned enamored short footsteps
with the patterns steps of the cobblestone.
Her heaviness tells the story of one too many dough-nut holes,
 sharp cheddar jack cheese and lofty butter
The soup kitchen awaits at the top of the last hill
One last shroud of hope
That gives purpose to her day.
Eating has manifested itself 
to her sweaty blouse
saggy breasts that at one time time stole the heavenly lives
of bedazzled young lads.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Free Write on a topic called Shame followed her

Monday, September 22, 2014

A Free Write on Human Foos ball

Friday, September 19, 2014

A free write on A tangible object wants to speak to you

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

One minute Free write on The Field trip

Vice Principal Deko wrote notes viciously on his pad paper about all the admonitions a parent had about a teacher.  Both Muna and Amal knew of this well known fact and occasionally poked fun at him  and his yellow pad paper for which he carried with him everywhere.  "Yeah, we'll have this field trip under our belts" said Sister Muna.  "Under our belts! I like that one," said Amal who occasionally repaired any of Muna's flawed idioms and raw American phrases.  "Tea for Tat", said Muna one day on her way to the student's drinking fountain. " I think you mean Tit for Tat." "Oh, is it?"  was always Muna's response.  The Pakistani teacher seemed to be storing an endless amount of phrases somewhere beneath her blue flowered hijab.

One minute Free write on The Field Trip

"Chaperons are much needed, the more eyes we can keep on these ill behaved children, the better." Muna says as she crosses off another student from the list.  The students were excited for the field trip, the first field trip they had planned all year, and it was March, the closing of the school year was approaching rapidly.  Both Muna and Amal still had to plan for at least two more trips to meet the vice principal Diko's mandated quota.  Diko came to observe each teacher's classroom once a week, and he came armed with a pad of paper and pen to document any strangeness of a teacher's room.  Diko's ,Kenyan disposition shown tall in his stick figure walk and his demeaning stare at every entrance to a teacher's classroom.

One minute free write on The Field Trip

Teacher Sister Muna  is known as the strictest teacher.  She gathered her permission slips in hand, shuffling them in order like a deck of cards.  Muna was well known to be  so strict that even graduating seniors asked Amal bitterly if Sister Muna still worked at the school.  Fearfully, they recalled days of detention and Sister Muna's strong hearted words.  She had no remorse, even for the smartest students.  Muna seemed excited for the going-ons of the field trip.  "It'll be great to see the parents of these lofty Muslim students," she said sarcastically to Amal.  "These parents come into our classrooms everyday claiming how well behaved their kids are at home, they can't imagine how they can do anything wrong." But Amal doesn't respond the same way as Muna does to the gradual increase of chaperons, she's just glad to have a handful of parents in attendance.

Two minute free write on The field trip

Adna's mother, the store owner, had been rumored to come on the field trip as well.  How she had the ability to come no one knew.  She had seven kids, two of which were twins and a beauty shop out of this world.  And then little Abdirahman's mother was also willing to chaperon.  The mother visited the classroom everyday, helicopter parent, was her middle name.  She did not get her son's permission slip in until two days before the trip.  "I'll be there," She said. "Yes, I hope you will be there, because your son is not going on the trip if you're not ." reported teacher Amal.  Amal had strict guidelines for the students attending the field trip.  "Here, let me sign it right now" she said, her baggy clothes hung over the side of Amal's office desk.  Amal would compare permission slips with the senior Teacher Sr. Muna.  known as the strictest teacher on site.

One minute free write on a piece called Field trip

Three weeks before the class field trip, Amal called all her student's parents knowing that she'd need plenty of chaperons.  Little Kendra was  known for instigating problems, so her father was called first.  Kendra was hoping that he'd show up, but he was in Africa "on business."  Her mother said she'd come in his place.  Kendra's big brown eyes reported this fact to Amal before class started, using her bagel as a safe guard to her cereal bowl, she set the bowl down and began to chew her pencil eating the eraser as if it was a piece of gum. 

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Little Boe Peep lost her Skyscraper



Brenda absolutely lovvvvvveeeeed her new job as a dancer.   It was hard sometimes comin' by clients who needed her for different shots whether in a music video or in a Hollywood movie.  But when she wasn't shooting, she spoke with her agent, Nasir about where they could try to get more publicity, what sort of crazy stunts she should do in public to get the media's attention, and who was throwing what party, and how she would get noticed.
Nasir sat there that day in his tight shiny blue tux.  He had worn it because they were to meet a particular client that would get Brenda's name heard.  He sat flexing his hands a couple time at his desk, and typing with some speed and seriousness.  To his right sat his sleek black, client phone, and to the left trays on top of trays of organized venues, and places for choreographers to drop off their CV.
 He had several clients, and they dropped by with an appointment.  He always smiled, looked at them appreciatively, and added their background sheet to the many others; their pictures attached, grinning back at him, menacingly.  Behind him sat his studio's sound system and in front of him a large window showing off Toronto's skyscrapers and buildings that pushed to the sky with a velocity that excited and enthralled him.  Whenever he had the chance, he'd pull out a sketchbook and drawed those buildings. He said they were his Jaan, his love.  He'd go and kiss each one if he had a chance and then draw some more to his delight.










Toronto was beautiful in the summer, its Yonge Street strode with tons of restaurants.  Each one hanging its restuarant's name in beautiful etched letters.  Most unrecognizable but the everyday citizen, only grabbing the attention of the the person who sought out the restaurant, as it spoke to them, in their Language:Kimchee, Fuud, Tah Lao, etc.  The Person, who met with its equal gaze would pardon that resturant and park, take in the familiar place and eat with such natural inhibition. Thats what Nasir loved about Toronto.  He'd spent many of a night taking clients to these wanderful restaurants, as he remembered, Brenda occasionally in tow, she'd always wear her red tube dress that met to her knees.  And he'd show her off, as if she was some sort of Geisha, she sat flirtingly and smiling.  If that dress didn't catch the attention of one and all, thought Nasir, then nothing would.  Brenda stood nearly 5'11, and her muscular tanned dancers legs met clients eyes as if she were a hot giraffe running across the sahara.

Earlier post on Brenda

http://trincarl07.blogspot.com/2011/02/t.html





 

photo

Her Momma makes it better

When she got upstairs she found that her mother was crying, what's a matter momma? Her mother took a few moments trying to clear her throat as if her tears had taken every drop of water inside her. There going to take Shama! she shrieked "There going to take Shama?"Huffy repeated solemnly.  She barely knew the baby's name but on the preface that it reminded her of a famous whale. She had no idea what the baby meant to her mother, except another face to feed, another face to give her famous Redford too. Her mother bawling this time, tipped over the side of the bed, like a ship hitting an iceberg, and Huffy watched, dabbing her eyes viciously hoping that she wouldn't cry as well.




Free Write

Friday, September 12, 2014

nobel laurettes in lit books

1997: Dario Fo (Italy) 
1996: Wisława Szymborska (Poland) 
1995: Seamus Heaney (Ireland)
1994: Kenzaburo Oe (Japan) 
1993: Toni Morrison (USA) 
1992: Derek Walcott (Saint Lucia) 
1991: Nadine Gordimer (South Africa)
1990: Octavio Paz (Mexico) 
1989: Camilo José Cela (Spain) 
1988: Naguib Mahfouz (Egypt) 
1987: Joseph Brodsky (Soviet Union/USA) 
1986: Wole Soyinka (Nigeria)
1985: Claude Simon (France) 
1984: Jaroslav Siefert (Czechoslovakia) 
1983: William Golding (Great Britain) 
1982: Gabriel Garcia Márquez (Columbia/Mexico)

Story Segment

A segment of a story I've been working on called "Derrick."

"If I knew any better, I would have came sooner," said Sasha.

 The two young girls approached the hotel they were to stay at.  Only a red door with a number at the top told them it was the right place. No indication of hotel Chateau, no indication of customer service, no doormen to approach them, and invite them into their new humble abode.  The winding staircase was met by a Direction, as the super/landlady was called in France, listed only by the name above her door. 
And The Direction was no happier then a thirteen year old on homework day. Her hair disheveled, and combed to one side, dish water blond, with a look of apprehension that made us reconsider our reservation.

 "You remember me?" spoke Kamila first. Speaking in English for my benefit.   

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Two Minute Free Write

Two Minute Free Write
Out in the grass?
or was it the meadow?
Jerry had the sprinkler system, a bit too close to his face before his daughter turned the water on.
Needless to say his daughter was not allowed to play with the water again.
Nor eat all the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms
or
Shoot the post man with her water gun.
She wasn't allowed to hold the door for strangers 
or 
seek out advice from telemarketers
She couldn't offer money to the tooth fairy
or shoot strawberries up her nose.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Faith +"Leave her alone, she'll come home"



Getting the momentum to carry Luciado home was half of the battle.
Knocking on Kenia's door with Lucido would be another.  Remembering Kenia's appearance briefly.  Faith took out her variety of lip liners, from a paper cup, choosing a brown and than rummaging through the half other paper cups, semi organized;some containing eyeshadow, others containing blush, the oiled type, the powdered with brushes.  "These were Katie's", Evey reminder her before Faithy took off with the whole half shoe box full.  Assorted jewelry was the only thing not making it into the cups.  that along with the nail polish remover and perfume in clear containers. 

 The nice-sorta kind named after singers, gone perfume designers, like Brittany Spears.  LL Cool J.  She picked through a half dozen, settling on a few she tested against her skin, that held three dots in the shape of a triangle tatoo.  "Good Enough" she made Luciado smell and she agreed. "But Faithy" will my Muchacho Like this?"  Faith didn't actually get through the plan to Luciado, instead, she half told her that she was taking her tonight to see Ranchacho, and they would stop at an old friends on the way over.  Luciado didn't mind.  She squeenze her butt into a pair of skinny legger jeans that fell open half mid calf an too Katie's black converses, not Faithy's size 12 ones.  Throwing a green cotton t-shirt over Luciados head that said "Guess" in sequins across the top in rainbow across the front.


The cotton just barely holding over Luciados bunched up love handles.  Putting her own hair in a tight pony tail pressing a hard bristled bush over her sides to make sure everything stood and plastered to her head.  Holding her hand just over the sides of her face to prevent the hairspray from hitting her eyes or over

Friday, September 5, 2014

Journaling about Grandma



living a healthier life

smileeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

this is the advice of living a healthier life according to msn, heheheh

watch more humorous youtube clips
lots of variation in exercise,
exercise outside
drink less diet soda!!!!!!!!!!
be more gracious about your days

forgive more
be like a kid when finding strategies to avoid sweets
enjoy life
call your mom

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Free write 5 on Nurse Mary Jo

Free write 5 on Nurse Mary Jo 
Mary Jo tells her to get his jeans and shoes on.  Mary Jo gets the idea to push him against the wall straight across from where the mattress sits.  They stand on either side of him, the caregiver thinks of the transfer belt and they throw a T-shirt on him before fitting the belt snugly on his waist.  "Where's my smokes", where's my smokes" Donavan asks between wheezes from his dentured filled mouth.  He resumes his banter while Mary Joe and the caregiver watch him make a steady retreat to the ground, gravity has allowed his back to slide.  "Get him up! Get him up!" Both caregivers lose their bed side manners while pulling him up without giving the patient instruction. Let him to help you, hold his feet against the wall and push, Donavan is focus on Cigs though and barely gets balance on his feet, Mary Jo pushes him hard, for him to stand.

Free write 3 on Nurse Mary Jo

Free write 3 on Nurse Mary Jo
The problem was she wasn't born a man, could not lift this man.  In her haste, she shouted at the caregiver, knowing that Marybeth would be there in 15 minutes.  "Help me get these depends off.  There's a pad behind you, grab that shirt as well. Start wiping, no from the tip downward.  There you go, get that wet shift off him.  Here, let me help you."  They pull off the shirt over his head, Donovan brings his arms up without a fuss, he's used to the pulls and pushes of nurses.  They pulled off the heavy maroon cardigan as it got caught on his enormous head.  The Caregiver gives it a tug and it releases, hitting the the back wall behind the mattress in its force.  The Caregiver brightens at this small success.  They lift his bare chest off the floor. 

Free write 2 on Nurse Mary Jo

Free write 2 on Nurse Mary Jo
Donovan temporarily satisfied gentled his tenor voiced demands and looks outwardly at the expanse of his hallway sized bedroom.  Bright lights give fresh air to the gravity of the situation, like an ER patient bound for surgery, both caregivers  glance at their options:A four foot tall walker, a transfer belt,  size 14 black Velcro shoes and a  300 pound man.  "Alright, alright", says Mary Jo taking charge of the situation as the other caregiver stood still prodding her hands further into her polka dot nursing scrubs.  If she could get her hands further into her pockets, maybe she'll lay seize to the answer of this dilemma thought Mary Jo, sarcastically. The caregiver had been of no help the whole week, needing text book instructions on basic nurse care giving:finger pricking, transferring, asking the whereabouts of the emergency kits, taking vitals.  Now Mary Jo had to take charge.

Free Free on Nurse Mary Jo

Free Write on Nurse Mary Jo
Marybeth said she was on her way Donavan laid heavily on the newly polished floor with his pants unbuttoned and his cargo shorts at his ankles.  "Get em' up! Get em' up!" His aluminum walker separated Mary Jo from the Caregiver who stood two feet away.  "Who was that on the phone?  asks the Caregiver.  "Who was that?  Who was that?"  repeats Mary Jo, "I'll tell you who that was, it was your worst nightmare.  "Now give me a hand, would ya?"  Donavan's mattress lay empty at the foot of the bed. The brown covers and yellowing sheet lay beneath Donavan, who makes uncomprehensible noises slowing increasing in volume.  Cig cig cigarettes, cigarettes, get my cigarettes.  "Donavan, you will have your cigarettes when you, Get Up!"

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Continuation 9 of the Compulsive Stealer

Continuation 9 of the Compulsive Stealer
The car seemed to have been sitting for a while, dust and fragments and outside elemtns scattered the floor mats.  Tollefson felt for certain that the car window must have been open for a good period of time.  When she wasn't looking at the car's insides, she she stared at the plants in the frensic's room.  Tom, head frensic supervisor, took his time arranging each of the plants so they were lazily lapsing over one another almost like a kid brother and sister embracing one another, the white floor contained not a single leaf from the plants, almost as if Tom removed any plant debris in advance knowing that if he didn't the result would be the removal of the plants themselves.  The frensic supervisor was known to remove many items from the frensic lab like high powered microscopes, fume cupboards, various fireams and audio equipment.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Continuation8 of a Compulsive Stealer

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