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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Jazmine (Isn't She Beautiful?)dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Raivn
    ASL Info:    33/f/al
    Elite Ratio:    4.28 - 1222/916/231
    Words: 477
    Class/Type: Misc/Love
    Total Views: 575
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 2993



    Description:
       For my little sister...it's not that wonderful, but it's heartfelt


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsJazmine (Isn't She Beautiful?)dots
    -------------------------------------------


    My Baby Sister:

    I remember feeding you spoonfuls of banana baby food
    Which you would promptly spit back out at me
    And form your lips into your "fishy face"
    My seven year old self grew frustrated because you wouldn't just eat
    I had better things to do
    Play with my barbies, ride my bike, things of that nature
    But I had to feed you, and you refused to eat
    Already exhibiting a mind of your own (and a stubborn one at that)
    So, I tricked you.
    Ate a spoonful myself, making "mmmm" sounds
    And then you wanted it...because you wanted to be like your big sister

    I remember playing pretend with you
    We always had ridiculously imaginative minds.
    We would play "hotel" for hours, a game that continued long after I was in high school
    I guess we both wanted different lives than what we had.
    Our game went from fighting trees as we argued over who would be the Pink Ranger
    To jumping on our bikes and screaming, "Hurry, here comes the killer!"
    To jumping on the fourwheeler and yelling, "Hurry, here comes the killer!" (Maybe we should work on that script)
    To you cleverly murdering me with the antenna of a pink, plastic cellphone.
    To me and my best friend scaring you so badly that you almost stabbed her with a butcher knife.
    Why were all of our games so violent?
    Thank god for our "bubbles"

    I remember when I left you
    In such a hurry to get away from our mother that I never really stopped and thought
    And I left you to deal with them alone.
    They shuttled you from one state to another
    From a home to a camper in the middle of nowhere
    Drove you crazy with their fighting
    And I blissfully unaware
    But now I realize that I could have prevented it all
    If I had just stayed.

    I guess it's all just a part of growing up
    You make choices, and you make mistakes
    And you're somehow better for it
    And you turned out more well adjusted than we could have hoped
    (Given the circumstances)
    You sit before an easel and pour out your heart on canvas
    And it's the most incredible thing that I've ever seen

    I pull out pictures from my wallet and show them to everyone that I can
    "This is my sister, Jazmine. She's a senior this year."
    "Isn't she beautiful?"
    Everyone agrees
    And I smile as they study your face
    And are affected by your beauty
    And I am proud that I can call you my sister
    And I take hundreds of pictures of you
    They all turn out exactly as I see you
    You're the artist of the family
    But I see you as you are
    And I share them with everyone

    "Isn't she beautiful?"




    Submitted on 2007-01-14 00:36:43     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      this is sweet raivn, its awesome how much you love jaz.....
    there is nothing to say, really, i was too engrossed to notice grammar, spelling and the like
    beautiful, plain to see how deeply you care

    good job
    xoxo
    | Posted on 2007-09-14 00:00:00 | by blu_kittin | [ Reply to This ]
      Gendel and Apathy were born inside the childs mind. Apathy was a creature living in the mind, a creature uncapable of any feeling other than hate. Apathy was a tortured, tortured by what she was. She took her pain and she used it as a sword against ideas that lived inside the child. She fed off the ideas and lay fat and pregnant inside a hell in the mind of the child. Pregnant with ignorance, born to the mind and named Grendel. Grendel held Apathy's hate, he was her hate, her blade of death. Apathy slept in hell while Grendel fed off ideas in the childs mind. He lived near the childs attention where the ideas came from.
    Few ideas still existed inside the mind. They hid in shallow pools throughout the vast valleys of the brain. They hid inside dreams, holy and pure,from the subconcious. Grendel could not enter the dreams, dare not enter. Nothing as completely evil as himself could survive in a place like the dreams. They were an untouched uncorrupted place, if Grendel entered the dreams they would soon become nightmares and the child would wake and he would be trapped, he would be erased from the childs mind.
    Tonight the child lay dreaming. Apathy slept in her hell and Grendel walked in the mind unconscious, in a trance like state while the childs attention held his dreams. Outside the childs mind, in a music box across the room a hero slid into vibrations and soundwaves that traveled through the air and into the ears of the child. The hero was Knowledge, his name was Beowulf. Beowulf was a traveler, spread through life and passed on and on. His purpose was to erase ignorance and apathy in their many forms. He came from from books and lived inside minds, to be passed on once attained, through the mouth of people he occupied and onto others that could hear of him. He lived in paintings and music, many different places where knowledge and ideas could be found.
    While the child slept and Grendel was unaware, Beowulf slipped into the mind through the subconscious. He greeted the ideas and talked with them of his plans to rid them of the evil inside the mind of the child. He would be the protector of ideas. The ideas regarded Beowulf with skepticism, laced thinly with hope.
    Spoke from the ideas, "What makes you capable of conquering Apathy and her conceived fruit when no one else has?"
    Beowulf smiled and replied, "Because I am knoledge, and I have come to you, to this child, through dreams. I have faith that I will not be forgotten like many of his ideas. I live and come from far away, I am clever and the child will remember me."
    And with these words the ideas rejoiced and dined on the only thing that ideas have to dine on. There was a great feast and they were happy. The ideas didn't know how Grendel would be defeated, but Knowledge had come, and he had come to be remembered.
    --------------------------------------------------
    Once the child woke, from the pits of hell, Apathy, bearing hunger and hatred opened her eyes. She yawned, stretched...cood and finally called after Grendel. Grendel came quickly. He stood at Apathy's feet and waited for her to speak.

    When words did come from her salivating tunnel, they came as emaciated whispers.
    Her whispers, " Grendel, I am starved. I am weak and laying in this hell growing weaker still. I cannot move to feed myself, but you have the strength of the immortal. You can get ideas for me and I can gain my strength and then we will, my darling ignorance, be able to conquer this mind at last. It will be our home."

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Grendel left at once, wasting no time he started towards the direction of the subconscious. Grendel walked with increasing momentum, grunting and stomping his ugly feet, he advanced in the direction of dreams.
    --------------------------------------------------
    The ideas gathered in the corner of dreams. Humid tension sucked at the air inside the subconscious and replaced it with a thick suffocating wetness. Beowulf stood in the middle of the room, solemnly holding his head down, as if praying. Grendel came inside, tearing tissue and cells as he tore the door from its hinges. Beowulf steadied himself as Grendel advanced towards him. Inside it became dark, a feeling of fear choked through the room. The ideas trembled inside the dreams that were quickly turning to nightmares. The warriors fought and the tension rose. The ideas gasped for air as Beowulf tore hair and flesh from Grendels body. Grendel screamed, the tension growing, growing, growing, the ideas trembling, fear mounting. All at once the child woke. He looked about his room, searching for light in his bedroom. He clutched to his sheets, violently trying to shake his fear from his nightmare from him like sweat. The child sobbed, paying no mind to the audibility of his vioce. The radio continued to play, for a moment turned to static and then a melody drifted from the speakers. The child lowered his head to his pillow, looking still around the room. His eyes fluttered, the sleep he'd been trying to push away overcame him. A dream crept upon the child, the dream filled with clever ideas that formed the face of a Bard that told the child great stories. The child's mind was wiped clean, free from ignorance, Apathy soon to die. Knowledge sacrificed to the greater good.

    | Posted on 2007-01-29 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
      Well I did not feel like crying today...this was nice, so glad that we all think I am well adjusted under the circumstances. Heh. I don't know what to say about this. Too personal to comment on. YOu understand.
    | Posted on 2007-01-18 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
      Your poem is nice description of your feelings and the affection for your little sister. It depicts the memories of your childhood, your family problems and the harsh decisions you took and also revelation of repentance for them. The word Jazmine portrays beauty in itself and so is your sister. You appear to cherish your sister's beauty. A good write.
    | Posted on 2007-01-14 00:00:00 | by Ramneet | [ Reply to This ]


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