Thursday, February 16, 2012
WRITE a Prayer for Peace
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Write about Wondering
What do you wonder about? I wonder...
Monday, February 13, 2012
Write about intelligence: What is it?
Here is a pile of my action figure dolls. Albert Einstein, Bunson Honeydew, E.B. Debois ( the famous African American writer), and an Extra-terrestial fellow with no human name. All of these beings possess something we call intelligence, the ability to know about their own existence and the existence of others. What is intelligence? What forms does it come in? Can it be measured? Why is it important? These are just a few random questions. As an intelligent being, you may have many more. Let's write about intelligence.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Write about a time you jumped
Life often comes to precipices where a human being has to decide do I stay the way I am or do I jump wholeheartedly into the unknown future.
Sometimes its a job that you quit or an old life you reject or a new life you embrace. These are the moments that show up on your personal timeline as peaks or valleys. These are the times that change you for better and worse. When we jump we embrace the unknown.
Write about a time you jumped.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Write about the Backwards World
Friday, February 10, 2012
Write about the Man Store
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Write about Nonsense
The Jabborwocky
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Write about a Time You Pretended
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
40 Write about Hansel and Gretel or Abandonment
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Write About What Can't Be Measured
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Write about a Time Life Surprised You
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Write about Robots or Toys
Friday, January 20, 2012
How do you Survive Big Bad Bully Bus?
The Big Bad Bully Bus words and music by Barry Lane by Barrylane55
The Big Bad Bully Bus
Thursday, January 19, 2012
41 Write about North or South
Here I am standing at the gateway to the Arctic in Barrow, Alaska, True North. It is just about the farthest north you can go in the United States of America. Those are whale bone ribs framing the Arctic ocean. I was told that in Norway and Scandinavia this place is as well known as the Washington monument. How far north have you been? What does North mean to you? Who is north in your life? Let's Write about North.
90 North |
At home, in my flannel gown, like a bear to its floe, I clambered to bed; up the globe's impossible sides I sailed all night—till at last, with my black beard, My furs and my dogs, I stood at the northern pole. There in the childish night my companions lay frozen, The stiff fur knocked at my starveling throat, And I gave my great sigh: the flakes came huddling, Were they really my end? In the darkness I turned to my rest. —Here, the flag snaps in the glare and silence Of the unbroken ice. I stand here, The dogs bark, my beard is black, and I stare At the North Pole . . . And now what? Why, go back. Turn as I please, my step is to the south. The world—my world spins on this final point Of cold and wretchedness: all lines, all winds End in this whirlpool I at last discover. And it is meaningless. In the child's bed After the night's voyage, in that warm world Where people work and suffer for the end That crowns the pain—in that Cloud-Cuckoo-Land I reached my North and it had meaning. Here at the actual pole of my existence, Where all that I have done is meaningless, Where I die or live by accident alone— Where, living or dying, I am still alone; Here where North, the night, the berg of death Crowd me out of the ignorant darkness, I see at last that all the knowledge I wrung from the darkness—that the darkness flung me— Is worthless as ignorance: nothing comes from nothing, The darkness from the darkness. Pain comes from the darkness And we call it wisdom. It is pain. Randall Jarrell |
Metamorphosis Class
Transformation Class Could Change Your Life
Attention all students, this afternoon, after school , by order of the principal, we will begin transformation class. Please bring your bodies and minds, your thoughts and ideas, and especially, your dreams. You see a transformation class is where we learn to become our dreams.
I met this boy and girl last week and they invited me to tell the principal about this class. I have talked to the principal and he has approved it and now I want to invite you to it. It is never too late to live your dreams. It is never too late to see a world that others can’t imagine. It is never too late to transform hate and suffering into love and joy. Human beings, you see ,are all alchemists. We have a magic process that turns lead into gold. Come learn about this process.
If you feel sometimes like a sad larva, come to the Transformation Class after school and see that you have wings waiting to lift you up into the blue sky of your dreams.