The Quill: pollution

"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber

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Wednesday, February 1, 2012

(Raise Your Voice) The Human and the Tree (a poem)

Raise Your Voice
The Human and the Tree

Written February 1st, 2012

I walk upon this ground

I rise up from it

I am small in these woodlands

I am the tallest being around

I cannot move you, mighty beast

Yes, for I am rooted to this ground

But I can make you fall,

For I start the chainsaw

And I feel its merciless bite

The chainsaw was made for me

I kill you for material things

I provide you with life-giving air

I create to destroy

I do not like to share

I live a peaceful life

My purpose is to provide for myself and others

I forget

I remember

That I am not the only one on this earth.

----

A style of poem I explored in creative writing club

Friday, February 25, 2011

*Death on the Horizon (a poem)

Death on the Horizon

Horizon turns gray

Banishing the black

And so appears the first ray

Sending the stars back

But the light does not shine

On a single river or pine

No- just a forever wasteland

Endless expanse of dusty-dry sand

And from a cold mountain cave appears

A young girl, small for her years

She sits at the very edge

Of the miles-high ledge