SYNESTHESIA

Red

Red is strong

In Summer, unborn

In fall it is old

Red looks like Russia

Tastes like apples

Red falls from the trees

Leaves brushing against my skin

Smells like cinnamon

Freshly coated onto donuts

It sounds like PAIN AND DESTRUCTION

Writing Starter XV

Home

Walking alone in each empty room

I could feel the dark shadows loom

Over my head

The only light was from the lamp over my bed

At night I could always hear my heartbeat boom

SWAG

Poem Round II

You

The best thing about you is your attitude

So happy and confident

No, the best thing about you is what you wear

You always dress to impress 

No, the best thing about you is your gratitude

You are always grateful for everything

No, the best thing about you is your hair

So long and luscious

No, the best thing about you is your smell

The hint of vanilla in the air

No, the absolute best thing about you is your spouse

I love the way they lie there in the dark when they don't know i'm watching which is totally not creepy at all.

Writing Starter XIV

Dream

I sat alone in the chair

Rocking back and forth, heart filled with despair

All I did was stare

At the one single bear, missing patches of hair

Noise

Körper

Tiefe Atemzüge aus der Nase

klapperten die Zähne zusammen

Haar reibt sich

aber mein Herz schlägt leise

Kleidung Reiben auf der Haut

Aufstoßen nach dem Essen

Magen Gurgeln

aber mein Herz schlägt leise

der Hals beim Schlucken
Rissfugen mit Bewegung
sprechen zu denen um
aber mein Herz schlägt leise

Writing Starter XIII

Birdie

By Jake Rayer

My birdie so soft

So blue and smooth like glue

He sits in my loft

And tobacco is all he will chew

Writing Starter XII

“That’s weird." Thought Cupid. "I’ve never hit the wrong person like that before.”
Cupid misjudged the speed of his target and missed by a few feet.  He hit this large female that had the biggest unibrow in existence. The first man she saw was David Beckham.  She threw herself at him.  Before David could resist her, her awful stench knocked him out.  She tied him up, put him over her shoulder, and disappeared into the mist.  That was the last anyone had ever heard of David Beckham.

Writing Starter XI

My wife sprints out on all four and takes the odd meat package and devours it like a savage.  I need to restrain her before things get worse.  I put the taser to her neck and immobilize her.  After calming her down i chain her back up in the attic and go about my daily business.

Writing Starter X

That Thursday morning had been going so well until I found the neighborhood handyman dead on my workroom floor. There was a note on his chest that read good luck explaining this one.  Moments after reading it I head police sirens all around my house, and banging on my front door.  
"LAPD! Open the fucking door!"
I sat next to the body and waited.

Writing Starter IX

My passion is Rugby.  It is my favorite thing to do with some of the best people i've ever met. I love the game, and love being able to forget about everything and just knock some heads with some guys i think of as family.  School makes it difficult to follow my passion of rugby because school requires more dedication.  I need to focus on school a lot, so i can go to the college of my choice, but i'd rather just play sports all day.

Short Story

The man walked through the open empty halls of what was left of the house.  The house had been broken, floors destroyed, and parts burnt to a crisp.  As he looked out over the bare landscape from a blown out wall, he began to remember.  The first flashback that came was of a woman.  She walked the same halls, but they seemed to be in better condition.  She laughed, smiled, and looked at him.  Who was this woman?  The man quickly looked at his finger for a wedding ring, but there was no such luck.  The man continued to explore the house, and came across another room with a baby's crib in it. The flashback began.  There was a figure, but not the same as the woman cradling a baby.  When she began to speak no words came out.  What did she sound like who was she?  As he continued to explore more questions were created than answered.  As the man walked towards the door to leave another flashback happened, but this one was different.  There was fighting, chaos, and pandemonium throughout the streets.  There was a really bright light, and he heard sound.  Screaming, crying, crazed laughing, but worst of all... The explosion.  The mushroom cloud seemed to never end, and the sounds were too much to handle.  He looked over and saw the woman from before, and as she was about to say all he heard was the sound of an alarm.

John woke up fast, scared of that same dream he had been having for weeks.  He looked to his left, and Lucy was still sound asleep.  He got out of bed and put .  He walked down the cold, hardwood steps to the kitchen, so he could make breakfast.  Because it was Tuesday it was a waffle, bacon, and coffee day.  He prepared a plate for Lucy as well because he knew how much she loved waffles, and before he could even finish his coffee he felt the warmth of her hands on his back.  

“Good morning.” She said with a smile on her face. It had been a while since he’d seen her smile like that.  Since the death of their son she hadn’t gotten out of bed very much.  She had shut down completely, but she seemed to slowly be getting better.

“How are you doing?” John asked.

“Feelin better, how are you? You’re up early”. Lucy replied.

“Couldn’t sleep.  The usual”. John answered.

Lucy knew exactly what John meant by that, but she didn’t want to bring it up.  John stood up from the dining room table and put on his new leather shoes. Freshly polished as of yesterday. John felt the heat of the warm summer sun on his back, and the cool mist in the air at the same time. The thin layer of dew on his scarlet red 62' corvette reflected the light in such a beautiful way. Little did John know this was going to be the most stressful day of his life.

The Pentagon was busier than central station even at the ungodly hour of 6 am. On his way to his office he was stopped by some men in black suits.
"The President needs to speak to you right now." One of the men said. He was tall, and had very broad shoulders. He had a seasoned look about him like a had been in war, and had a long scar down his neck. Being the Presidents personal advisor had its perks, but it really stressed John out.

The president looked distressed and worried. Being in office had really taken its toll on Mr. Kennedy even though it had only been 2 years. "The blockade around cuba is experiencing some resistance from a nuclear soviet sub. If this can't be avoided we could have serious issues."

writing starter VIII

Life would be so much easier if i was a cartoon character. Everything would be so much more fun.  I could be anything i wanted to, and i would want to be like mickey mouse.  I would hang out with him, mini, and goofy and we would party all day.  Anything bad that happened to me would be resolved quickly and easily.  Pain wouldn't be a thing.  But best of all I would be in a cartoon world where anything is possible.  Things that are 100% implausible could happen. I could sucker punch a person into a super sonic jet and then they would use their pants as a parachute.  That would be gnarly.

writing starter 7

The best thing that has happened to my character is his promotion into a powerful government/NATO position.  My character has a love interest, and it is his wife, Lucy.  He doesn't really care about politics because his job is the same no matter who is in office.  This character has a strong want to have a family.  His wife hasn't been ready for the task, and all he wants is to just be a dad.

character sketches

1. John Kirkham: Works for government, and has a relatively boring life.  It is the year 1962.
A. He gets caught up in the cuban missile crisis
B. Blamed for the Cold War turning hot
2. Lucy Kirkham: Wife of John, stay at home mom.
A. has miscarriage
B. Dies in nuclear strike
3. Colonel Louis C. Legstrong: Colonel in US military, gives order to John Kirkham, secret bad guy
A. Caught being an inside man for the Soviets
B. Death by low volt electric chair
4. Jesse Pinkerton: Captain of USS Beale
A. Initiates WW3
B. Dies
5. Tyler the Village Lier: Known to lie a lot, but predicts the end all along
A. Waka Flocka Flame call him out for lying
B. Busted for plagiarism

writing starter 6

My short story plot would be during the Cold War era and have a man that keeps having this dream of a nuclear war. He has no recollection of what happened during his dreams other than occasional flashbacks.  Every time he wakes up at the same part to the sound of his alarm.  The character is a relatively normal guy other than the fact he works for the government (Homeland security and Defense).  It is during the height of the cuban missile crisis in 1962 when the US ship Beale was threatening the Soviet Nuclear submarine to surface.  Instead of the soviet ship deciding not to attack they launch their lone nuclear tipped missile at the Beale.  The US blockade around cuba is decimated and world war 3 begins.  The characters job was to communicate with the US forces at their stations and he gave the orders to the Beale.

writing starter5

There once was a boy, and his name was Mousecop.  Mousecop loved himself some sweet, tasty, crunchy, Rice Krispie cereal.  He loved it because the salt and corn were a perfect combination.  His sense of taste was phenomenal, and he could taste things no other boy could. The only down side was he had low iron.  Because of his low iron he had to eat a lot of his favorite cereal which made him very hyper due to the high levels of sugar in it. When he got too hyper, his mother demanded that he go outside.  Mousecop spent a lot of time outside.  His vitamin D levels were astronomical because of that and he died from vitamin D overdose.

Flash Fiction

The man walked through the open empty halls of what was left of the house.  The house had been broken, floors destroyed, and parts burnt to a crisp.  As he looked out over the bare landscape from a blown out wall, he began to remember.  The first flashback that came was of a woman.  She walked the same halls, but they seemed to be in better condition.  She laughed, smiled, and looked at him.  Who was this woman?  The man quickly looked at his finger for a wedding ring, but there was no such luck.  The man continued to explore the house, and came across another room with a baby's crib in it. The flashback began.  There was a figure, but not the same as the woman cradling a baby.  When she began to speak no words came out.  What did she sound like who was she?  As he continued to explore more questions were created than answered.  As the man walked towards the door to leave another flashback happened, but this one was different.  There was fighting, chaos, and pandemonium throughout the streets.  There was a really bright light, and he heard sound.  Screaming, crying, crazed laughing, but worst of all... The explosion.  The mushroom cloud seemed to never end, and the sounds were too much to handle.  He looked over and saw the woman from before, and as she was about to say something the flashback ended.

Writing Starter dialogue

B: "I can't believe you would do this."
G: "It was an honest mistake I swear!"
B:""An honest mistake" THATS B.S."!
G: "How was I supposed to know that it wasn't you?"
B: "Ummm, I don't know, maybe the fact that he didn't look, sounds or act like me?!"
G: "He was wearing a mask!"
B: "What the actual ---"
T: "Woah, woah woah, lets take this down a notch. Both of you go to class."
B: "No, we're not done talking about this."
G: "Please don't get her involved."
T: "What happened?"
G: " Oh no...'
B: "It all started last weekend......"

Flash fiction introduction

1. It is related to America because the author wants to name the novel "Great American Novel".
2. A flash fiction is defined as a story fewer than 1000 words.
3. Keeping them short takes more effort and skill because you only write 10% leaving the other 90% to be conjured by the reader.
4. Provide a beginning of the next part of the story, but keep it ambiguous.
5. Yes I agree. We live in a world of social media where without even knowing it we have written short stories.

writing starter poem

I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.

You looked at me.

I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.

You spoke to me.

I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.

You touched my hand.

I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.

You turned away.

I did try to explain, but I couldn’t.

You swung first.

I tried to duck, but I couldn't.

Fist to the eye.

I didn't think it would happen, but it did.

I punched a girl.

You didn't believe me, but i put you down.

Haymaker.

Left hook.

Right hook.

I win.

Writing Starter 2

You’re digging in your backyard when all of sudden you hit something. You can’t tell what it is so you thrust the shovel into the dirt one more time.  You hear a loud crack, and you notice a piece of wood under the dirt. You continue digging, and discover that it is a coffin.  Upon further inspection you discover that it is part of an ancient Indian burial ground.  You touch an old relic, and feel a powerful sensation pulsate through your body.  Ghosts begin flying everywhere vaporizing anything that moves. The chief speaks to you, and tells you that you have upset the worldly balance, and all of earth will perish.  The end.

6 word story

Eyes ahead, the beginning is near

Ball So Hard writing starter

A piece of art that really speaks to me is music.  Certain genres more than others though. Whenever I listen to old school rap I get really pumped up. Before rugby or soccer games I listen to either Tupac or Jedi Mind Tricks to get me going.  It isn't my favorite type of music to listen to all the time, but I do enjoy it occasionally.