We’ve gone to war, and declared it so
We both agree, if we are to grow,
Then one shall stay, and one shall go,
A colony shall remain, ichi, eins, uno
Red vs. Black, only we shall thrive,
As we climb over the hill, we will survive,
The queen is safe, well fed, and alive,
The Reds cower in fear until we arrive.
Using antennae, we relay and talk,
We hide behind the springtime stalk,
The sun is blocked out by a single hawk,
But we never stop, to look, to gawk
Our armies clash, workers and warriors galore,
Our enemies cower at our silent roar,
What is the reason for this gore?
Miniscule corpses line the floor.
But alas we were all one speed slower,
For the Human just finished with the leaf blower,
I can feel morale sinking lower, lower,
As millions of ants are bested by the lawn mower.
Showing posts with label kiera. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kiera. Show all posts
Monday, November 22, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Genevieve
Genevieve! From QC Strip Number 676! Im trying to shy away from the Gunnerkrigg stuff now that i think i can do those somewhat well. Bam!
Monday, October 25, 2010
A Scary Story
Alright my teacher said 'Write a Story like Edgar Allen Poe did.". Being kind of unobservant and hopelessly confused, she did not realize that A) half the class did not know who this was and B) The ones that did had not really read much of his work. In a class of eigth graders, this was the best she was going to get. So, most of us just assumed 'scary' or 'creepily ominous'. Although it probably has nothing to do with Poe, here is my contribution.
Kiera Wolfe
A Poe-like Story
The world exploded in a flash of light as Larry the maintenance man walked into the gold plated atrium in the kingdom of the gods. The double swirly doors of the Mount Olympus Hotel made quietly snobby thwacking noises as they spun around, ferrying tourists into the extravagant foyer. Everything was made of glass. The façade of the building let in the moonlight, which pierced the downy carpeting and threw the plushy couches and exquisite desks into harshly defined shadows.
The new guests swept into the hotel, sighing with relief. The clouds above were growling harshly, threatening to thunder on anyone who displeased them. Larry shook out his umbrella and efficiently stowed it under his jumpsuit-covered arm. He polished his name tag and briskly walked up to the front desk. The black haired and carefully manicured man behind the desk stood up slightly as he approached, looking him up and down, evaluating his worth. After a quick examination, he deemed the situation one that required a haughty aloofness. He straightened up quite a bit more and looked down his nose at Larry.
“Can I help you sir.” He drawled lazily, putting emphasis on his displeasure of using the word when referring to the maintenance man.
“Somebody called about some sort of elevator problem?”
“Oh. Yes. You’re here to fix Bessie aren’t you? Heh, good luck with that one. That old contraption shut down a month ago, won’t move an inch in either direction. The oldest elevator we have really. I don’t see why we just don’t replace it, it’s so useless.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” Larry peered down at the man’s name tag “Joseph.”
“Oh you will, won’t you?” Joseph replied with a keen smile, showing an unnaturally large amount of teeth. “Now if you excuse me, other repair personnel need to be dealt with. Ones that are actually doing their jobs.” Larry turned, prepared to leave, as a scruffy man wearing a dirty sweatshirt and pants covered in grease shoved him out of the way. He smelled odd, and reeked of something Larry had never smelled before. He glanced at Larry suspiciously, and turned toward Joseph. Ignoring the snub from both parties, he sauntered away thoughtfully. His eyes are two different colors thought Larry, how peculiar.
He paced over to the elevator that Joseph had pointed at and referred to as ‘Bessie’. It was remarkably roomy, as elevators seemed to be these days, and there was a pretty design of wood paneling on the walls. But the lighting was a little off somehow, throwing the whole box into an ominous collection of subtle darkness. He walked inside, undeterred, and opened the maintenance patch in the wall intended for people of his profession. A flashing red light was blinking determinedly next to a plaque that read ‘WEIGHT LIMIT EXCEEDED’. Larry shook his head in confusion. There was no way that he would set off the scale by himself; he was a rather thin man. It would take at least seven people to weigh down the lift past its maximum capacity. He turned to report his findings to Joseph, not looking forward to another interaction with the oily man, but the hair-gelled monster was already standing outside the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently. “So, can you fix it or not, old man?”
“Well it seems that it’s nothing more than a weight problem, she isn’t moving because the machinery has been halted by the alarm.”
“Oh really.” Sneered Joseph skeptically. “And where is all this ‘weight’ coming from?” He added those atrocious air-quotes with his first two fingers around the word ‘weight’. Larry was secretly wondering the same thing. He did a closer examination of the elevator, looking for peculiarities. For the first time, he looked up, and saw a square patch of burgundy surrounding a small break in the flowery embroidery. Upon closer inspection, he found the traces of small bolts where a handle must be fastened on the other side of the patch. He pushed slightly, and did a small hop to push his head above the ceiling of the box.
A name flashed across his vision as he stared into a familiar face. A face that had emblazoned the cover of many a newspaper. A face that nobody had seen among the living for six weeks. Five more similar corpses littered the top of the elevator. One blue eye and one green lit up the darkness. Joseph slammed the doors shut just in time to conceal Larry’s final scream.
Kiera Wolfe
A Poe-like Story
The world exploded in a flash of light as Larry the maintenance man walked into the gold plated atrium in the kingdom of the gods. The double swirly doors of the Mount Olympus Hotel made quietly snobby thwacking noises as they spun around, ferrying tourists into the extravagant foyer. Everything was made of glass. The façade of the building let in the moonlight, which pierced the downy carpeting and threw the plushy couches and exquisite desks into harshly defined shadows.
The new guests swept into the hotel, sighing with relief. The clouds above were growling harshly, threatening to thunder on anyone who displeased them. Larry shook out his umbrella and efficiently stowed it under his jumpsuit-covered arm. He polished his name tag and briskly walked up to the front desk. The black haired and carefully manicured man behind the desk stood up slightly as he approached, looking him up and down, evaluating his worth. After a quick examination, he deemed the situation one that required a haughty aloofness. He straightened up quite a bit more and looked down his nose at Larry.
“Can I help you sir.” He drawled lazily, putting emphasis on his displeasure of using the word when referring to the maintenance man.
“Somebody called about some sort of elevator problem?”
“Oh. Yes. You’re here to fix Bessie aren’t you? Heh, good luck with that one. That old contraption shut down a month ago, won’t move an inch in either direction. The oldest elevator we have really. I don’t see why we just don’t replace it, it’s so useless.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” Larry peered down at the man’s name tag “Joseph.”
“Oh you will, won’t you?” Joseph replied with a keen smile, showing an unnaturally large amount of teeth. “Now if you excuse me, other repair personnel need to be dealt with. Ones that are actually doing their jobs.” Larry turned, prepared to leave, as a scruffy man wearing a dirty sweatshirt and pants covered in grease shoved him out of the way. He smelled odd, and reeked of something Larry had never smelled before. He glanced at Larry suspiciously, and turned toward Joseph. Ignoring the snub from both parties, he sauntered away thoughtfully. His eyes are two different colors thought Larry, how peculiar.
He paced over to the elevator that Joseph had pointed at and referred to as ‘Bessie’. It was remarkably roomy, as elevators seemed to be these days, and there was a pretty design of wood paneling on the walls. But the lighting was a little off somehow, throwing the whole box into an ominous collection of subtle darkness. He walked inside, undeterred, and opened the maintenance patch in the wall intended for people of his profession. A flashing red light was blinking determinedly next to a plaque that read ‘WEIGHT LIMIT EXCEEDED’. Larry shook his head in confusion. There was no way that he would set off the scale by himself; he was a rather thin man. It would take at least seven people to weigh down the lift past its maximum capacity. He turned to report his findings to Joseph, not looking forward to another interaction with the oily man, but the hair-gelled monster was already standing outside the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently. “So, can you fix it or not, old man?”
“Well it seems that it’s nothing more than a weight problem, she isn’t moving because the machinery has been halted by the alarm.”
“Oh really.” Sneered Joseph skeptically. “And where is all this ‘weight’ coming from?” He added those atrocious air-quotes with his first two fingers around the word ‘weight’. Larry was secretly wondering the same thing. He did a closer examination of the elevator, looking for peculiarities. For the first time, he looked up, and saw a square patch of burgundy surrounding a small break in the flowery embroidery. Upon closer inspection, he found the traces of small bolts where a handle must be fastened on the other side of the patch. He pushed slightly, and did a small hop to push his head above the ceiling of the box.
A name flashed across his vision as he stared into a familiar face. A face that had emblazoned the cover of many a newspaper. A face that nobody had seen among the living for six weeks. Five more similar corpses littered the top of the elevator. One blue eye and one green lit up the darkness. Joseph slammed the doors shut just in time to conceal Larry’s final scream.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Be Exited! Ode To Ultralord
My next Poetry Cafe is about Barbies/Action Figures. I'm thinking on doing an Ode to Ultralord comments? or just speak "barbie girl" rhythmically and see if my teacher notices :P
heres the Jimmy Neutron wiki page entry on Ultralord:
Ultralord is a fictional TV show character in a fictional TV show, with which Sheen Estevez and his family is really obsessed with. Also there are a series of action figures out. In the show his worst enemy is Robo-Fiend, but Sheen often says that he battled many enemies like "The predatrous plants." Ultralord has many merchandise products, such as masks, action figures, clothes, and more. In the feature film, Sheen receives an Ultralord mask from an Ultralord mascot. Sheen's dad also has an Ultralord mask that he wears often.
What Motivates You The Most To Do Well In School? (APP)
A smile can mean a lot of things. A smile could be a gesture, meant to convey a content or happy disposition. A smile could be a cheery hello to your neighbor in the morning. A smile could be a window to experience the pure glee of another. Or, a smile could be a thinly veiled challenge, a test of wit and determination between peers. As I sit impatiently in my algebra class, waiting for a test to land on my desk, I share such an expression with my desk partner. Our eyes lock, and our eyebrows raise, and we swiftly look away. But that was enough to convey a myriad of emotions and suggestions. That simple glance was the throwing down of the gauntlet, the first swish of the red flag that forever tempts the bull. That simple connection says:
"I have defeated many an algebra test, and I have no intention of losing to a feeble minded hooligan like you. I WILL get an AMAZING grade and promptly throw it in your face. You just wait for your slow and disgraceful academic downfall." We look down, shuffle our papers, and then turn towards each other again. I casually shrug as if to say:
"It’s your call. Defeat this challenge or forever live in mind-shattering shame." Then, I look back down at my paper, intent on getting an A. This silent face off is what motivates me to do well in school. The secret challenges of intelligence that go on every day. A constant battle between myself and all the pressures in my life. It comes at me from all sides; my peers, constantly motivating me to improve and prove my own intellect; my family, pressuring me to do as well as they have; and the society I live in, forcing everyone of my generation to have a different outlook than the previous ones on the norms of education . My classmates, family, and age group all over the world are getting smarter every day. I incessantly strive to keep up with my entire environment, and personally think I’m doing pretty well. Whatever it is, fear, hope, pressure, or even OCD that motivates my generation to succeed in school is obviously doing a bang-up job, and I can only imagine the amazing things that these forces will push us to accomplish.
"I have defeated many an algebra test, and I have no intention of losing to a feeble minded hooligan like you. I WILL get an AMAZING grade and promptly throw it in your face. You just wait for your slow and disgraceful academic downfall." We look down, shuffle our papers, and then turn towards each other again. I casually shrug as if to say:
"It’s your call. Defeat this challenge or forever live in mind-shattering shame." Then, I look back down at my paper, intent on getting an A. This silent face off is what motivates me to do well in school. The secret challenges of intelligence that go on every day. A constant battle between myself and all the pressures in my life. It comes at me from all sides; my peers, constantly motivating me to improve and prove my own intellect; my family, pressuring me to do as well as they have; and the society I live in, forcing everyone of my generation to have a different outlook than the previous ones on the norms of education . My classmates, family, and age group all over the world are getting smarter every day. I incessantly strive to keep up with my entire environment, and personally think I’m doing pretty well. Whatever it is, fear, hope, pressure, or even OCD that motivates my generation to succeed in school is obviously doing a bang-up job, and I can only imagine the amazing things that these forces will push us to accomplish.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Foilman: A Poem
Inspired by The Epeeman, by Ralph Goldstein
The Foilman, the Foilman, truly the best of the bunch,
The Sabreman, the Epeeman, he could eat them both for lunch.
The Foilman is the only one, who possesses true finesse,
The Foilmen own the board, in the game of fencer’s chess.
A Foilman is quick and sly; he always keeps his wit,
‘Hide your moves, keep it small, and make them the ones to quit.’
The Foilman is like a dancer, always on his toes,
A Foilman can lunge and leap, and always fool his foes.
The Foilman is calculating, analyzing your every move,
And no parry can stop the Foilman, once he’s in the groove.
But the Sabreman, the Epeeman, they really aren’t so bad,
They deserve a little stanza, but really just a tad.
The Sabreman is ferocious, slashing from overhead,
And if he doesn’t want to use tact, he can just bop you on the head.
The Epeeman can take a challenge, in that I must concur,
He has to guard and attack everything, moving as a blur.
But the Foilman, the Foilman, always victorious on the mat,
To him, and me, and all the rest, to them I tip my hat.
The Foilman, the Foilman, truly the best of the bunch,
The Sabreman, the Epeeman, he could eat them both for lunch.
The Foilman is the only one, who possesses true finesse,
The Foilmen own the board, in the game of fencer’s chess.
A Foilman is quick and sly; he always keeps his wit,
‘Hide your moves, keep it small, and make them the ones to quit.’
The Foilman is like a dancer, always on his toes,
A Foilman can lunge and leap, and always fool his foes.
The Foilman is calculating, analyzing your every move,
And no parry can stop the Foilman, once he’s in the groove.
But the Sabreman, the Epeeman, they really aren’t so bad,
They deserve a little stanza, but really just a tad.
The Sabreman is ferocious, slashing from overhead,
And if he doesn’t want to use tact, he can just bop you on the head.
The Epeeman can take a challenge, in that I must concur,
He has to guard and attack everything, moving as a blur.
But the Foilman, the Foilman, always victorious on the mat,
To him, and me, and all the rest, to them I tip my hat.
Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse: A Poem
Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse
During a zombie apocalypse, your main goal is to survive,
The number one rule - that zombie is not your friend come back alive.
2. Always know your enemy, and of its strengths take note,
For if you ignore a zombie’s might, it will be quickly at your throat.
Pay special attention to a zombie’s teeth, hands, and smell,
You see, as a zombie gets older, its awful odor will swell.
3. Don’t forget a zombie’s weaknesses, for you don’t have to take flight,
If you think you are ready for the task, by all means, stay and fight.
A zombie certainly lacks in coordination, intellect, and speed,
With knowledge and preparation before, you will certainly succeed.
4. Avoid infection at all costs, and above every other aim,
Cover up as much as possible, to avoid joining the zombie game.
5. At all times, attempt to be resourceful; your terrain is always vital,
Try to avoid theatrics; this isn’t your second grade recital.
If that day comes around, where all of humanity must get up and brawl,
Make sure you educate everyone, so that our species does not fall.
Do not ignore the zombies, they aren’t fake like Nessie and Cupid,
BUT ABOVE ALL REMEMBER, THAT MUMMIES ARE ETERNALLY STUPID!
During a zombie apocalypse, your main goal is to survive,
The number one rule - that zombie is not your friend come back alive.
2. Always know your enemy, and of its strengths take note,
For if you ignore a zombie’s might, it will be quickly at your throat.
Pay special attention to a zombie’s teeth, hands, and smell,
You see, as a zombie gets older, its awful odor will swell.
3. Don’t forget a zombie’s weaknesses, for you don’t have to take flight,
If you think you are ready for the task, by all means, stay and fight.
A zombie certainly lacks in coordination, intellect, and speed,
With knowledge and preparation before, you will certainly succeed.
4. Avoid infection at all costs, and above every other aim,
Cover up as much as possible, to avoid joining the zombie game.
5. At all times, attempt to be resourceful; your terrain is always vital,
Try to avoid theatrics; this isn’t your second grade recital.
If that day comes around, where all of humanity must get up and brawl,
Make sure you educate everyone, so that our species does not fall.
Do not ignore the zombies, they aren’t fake like Nessie and Cupid,
BUT ABOVE ALL REMEMBER, THAT MUMMIES ARE ETERNALLY STUPID!
Friday, April 23, 2010
ELSEWHERE MURAL!
This is my MURAL depicting Jonas and Gabriel from The Giver by lois lowry going to "Elsewhere" Which we are decorating our hallway as (hence the need for a welcome sign!)
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Gunnerkrigg from Spanish Class!
Okay I was bored in Spanish class, so I made a Spanish-themed Gunnerkrigg! I knew most of it but i had to translate 1 line,
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Gunnerkrigg Court Mural
Lookie! This is a mural of everyone I could fit that didnt have eyes like Annie
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Persephone page 6
Zeus is pondering which person he would want to risk angering, and the bottom is Persephone being fought over by Hades and Demeter, she is half in her gloomy underworld look and half in her light look. (not actually physically being pulled 2 seperate directions, not in myth, just trying to symbolize struggle.)
Persephone page 5
Alright Conversation 1. Repeat of what Zeus said before to begging Demeter
Just to be clear, Demeter is then creating snow and stuff, killing the mortals ( guy on ground is begging for food, Also what Persephone was doing in last page)
Persephone page 4
Okay this one is a little confusing, let me clarify.
Conversation 1. Between Demeter and Helios/Apollo/Whoever was the sun at that time. First bubble is a pic of Persephone and a question mark. Second Bubble is Helios/Apollo looking down, and Persephone and an arrow down, signifying her being brought down into Hades.
In the next panel persephone is eating a POMEGRANITE. not some weird mixture of scribble and turd.
Conversation 2. Demeter says Pic of Persephone + Up(aboveground) = Happy Demeter and lots of wheat and corn and other stuff she did. Pic of Persephone + Down (Hades) = Mad Demeter and lots of snow and dying mortals.
Zeus responds with pic of Persephone + Pomegranite = NO ABOVEGROUND
Persephone page 3
Persephone, Ages: 21, People: Being Abducted by (a pathetic looking (not my fault cant draw dudes) Hades
Persephone page 2
Alrighty Numero Dos Says : Persephone, ages: 13, 16, people : with her maidens, (whom I have named daisy, tulip, and sunflower respectively)
Persephone page 1
Writing says : Persephone. Ages: 2 weeks, 18 months, 4 years, 8 years. People: With mother, Demeter, With Demeter and Aphrodite + Cupid, With Demeter, spreading springtime first time, Spreading springtime alone.
My Mister Monday Pursuasive Letter Review. Done in 2 nights, Woo!
Alright its kind of super long (has to be 5 par. essay) but im sure youll manage hahaha. Also, in middle of Drowned Wednesday, very good. Pick it up at whatever weird place you collage kids get books and read it! It was like midnight by last 2 paragraphs of this thing but I still think they're pretty good.
Kiera Wolfe 23 Deer Run Drive
Periods 4-5 Clarksburg, NJ 08510
3/16/10 March 23, 2010
Dear Future Sixth Grader,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. By definition, these are the words that we use in everyday human society to describe and define the days of the week. Monday in particular means “the moons day”, a day sacred to the various goddesses of the moon in many different cultures. But this seemingly simple word is looked at it a whole new light in the book Mister Monday by Garth Nix. This book is an intriguing fantasy that I would recommend to anyone because of its inspiring characters, ingenious setting, and breathtaking plot. You think of something bland and uninteresting when you see this simple title; but the attention-grabbing alliteration hints at the true awe-inspiring creativity and fresh imagination imbedded in this amazing read.
What is one of the most important and vital components in a successful book? A super squad of dynamic and relatable characters! The protagonist and first fly on this well spun web of a tale is Arthur Penhaligon. Arthur is a regular boy just like you and me, who is extremely easy to relate to. He is an adopted, asthmatic, and sarcastic teen boy. His reactions to situations are extremely similar to ones that any average child would have. When you read a book about a superhero or a god it is interesting to think about what you would do if you had their talents but you know it would never be possible. When you read about Arthur and his adventures, you can really imagine yourself in his place, bringing your reading experience to a richer and more refined level. “He (Arthur) couldn’t believe that he was in this situation. He was supposed to be some sort of hero, going up against Mister Monday, and here he was without any pants on … Surely no real hero would end up in this predicament. (Nix,137)” Can’t you imagine yourself in this situation? Thinking of this exact thing? Also, this character brings an element of humor that further improves the literary experience.
Another character intertwined in the web of Mr. Nix’s tale is Suzy Turquoise Blue, a fresh and spunky girl who lives in the main setting of the book. The setting is complex and imaginative, and In Garth Nix’s story, there are two basic settings; The House and the Secondary Realms. The Secondary Realms are the world in which we live, and others that are similar. Arthur lives in Britain (Garth Nix’s home place). The House is the center of everything, and the people that reside there live outside of the realms of time. Suzy lives in the lower part of the house, where people are incessantly running around with paper, papyrus, letters, writing, and anything that in anyway relates to type. Ms. Blue is an Ink Filler, 5th class. She has blonde hair and wears an odd assortment of mismatched and oversized clothing from different time periods that wash into the house like the water onto the shore. She has lived in the house for an indescribably long time. Back in the beginning of the house, Suzy and other children living in past time periods (Suzy is originally from the time of the Black Plague) followed a mysterious Piper that led them into the maze-like walls of the house and they haven’t found their way out since. They sit with other slave-like Denizens, serving the rulers of the house. There are 7 people that rule the house and each represent a day of the week. They are extremely corrupt and are constantly fighting with each other over ownership of the different parts of the house. The setting of this book is very important because it is the place that all of the Days are fighting over. They all want to rule the entire house, and become all powerful, ruling all of the Secondary Realms. Can Arthur stop them?
The plot of this book is simply extravagant, holding you captive until you must put it down. You begin with some chapters dedicated to describing Arthur and his massive adoptive family. But after this there is some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that Arthur is destined to die. The good news is that he doesn’t. Mister Monday (the first Day that rules over the lower portion of the house) arrives at the scene where Arthur is gasping from his asthma attack, induced by making him run the mile in Gym class. He gives Arthur the Minute Hand of the First Key to the Kingdom (the House) after being tricked by his butler. Later, you realize that Mister Monday’s butler was under the influence of The Will. The Will is yet another character in this story, yet it is also an object. You see, when the Architect (or creator) created the House and Secondary Realms at the beginning of time, she composed a Will like one you or I will create. A document that was supposed to enforce her (yes, HER) wants after she died. One of the rules in her will stated that after a certain amount of time, the rulers of the house would pass down their power to a mortal heir from the Secondary Realms (a.k.a. Arthur). The Will was broken up into seven parts and never enforced. So Part One (passages 1-5) of the will broke free and resumed in helping Arthur. The Will is a haughty and arrogant it believes that “Charity is a very labor intensive virtue (Nix, 170u)” So, the Will convinced Mister Monday to give the Key to Arthur (tricking him into thinking there was a loophole in the Architect’s Will) and it immediately heals Arthur to a point where he barely even has asthma anymore. Later that day, a horde of mysterious beings appear and spread a disease or plague that starts to affect residents of his Arthur’s town. Arthur panics, but then realizes he also received a book with the Key, upon opening it, he finds the locations of the House, and realizes that there is a possibility of a cure inside. Arthur finds the house, enters it, and meets Ms. Suzy Blue and the Will. Arthur explores the house with Suzy and part one of the Will, facing many dangers and predicaments. The Will assures him that he is the one that must inherit all the Keys of the Kingdom of which there are seven. (One for each of the Days) In the end, Arthur prevails by finding and defeating Mister Monday and inheriting the first of the Keys, making him Master of The Lower House. (Although “Monday” should be his title, to avoid confusion Mr. Nix refers the previous, overthrown, Monday as Monday and Arthur still as Arthur)
In conclusion, I believe that the book Mister Monday by Garth Nix is an intriguing fantasy that I would recommend to anyone because of its inspiring characters, imaginative setting, and awe-inspiring plot. It is one of my new favorite books, and I keep liking the series more and more after reading of Arthur’s contact with Grim Tuesday, and Drowned Wednesday. So find this book at your local library and start cracking!
Yours Truly,
Kiera Wolfe
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)