Prompt- Essay 300words or less describing their original creative work or idea. (Should include documentation of original work)
Original Work
By Mariah Scanlon
The purple velvet of night
licks at the edges of a yard.
Patio chairs lay, knocked about
a silent monument to fear.
Through gaping holes in the house
emotions sliver out.
Fingers of hate, stretching and reaching
Neighbors close windows and shutters
to protect their facades.
Acidic accusations pour from his mouth.
It laps at her soul and buries in her veins
Scorching and burning
this acid, as it scalds, demands answers
But she has none
No answers to give to this lion of a man
as he rips and tears away at her heart.
A mouse, shaking and afraid,
she merely waits
So sad, So sad she waits
for a fate she knows is coming
Peace, full and heavy
climes in through open windows and doors.
Slowly, so slowly, across the house
it inches.
Its milky white calm spreading
like the sheet of white over a corpse.
A room, lit only by the dewy blue of a television
he lies in wait.
A lion full after the mean of her soul.
liquid courage induced stupor
He is no longer a lion.
Cold black and white tile rise up to meet her.
A chair, thrown and broken
serves as her audience.
Frozen strawberries pressed to and ocean
blue cheek.
Not witnesses but bottles and chairs
as a crystal tear runs downward.
At last, a hand meets a counter.
She's up.
A table, a grainy chair
She's moving
The red of fallen strawberries trail behind her
fallen and left behind, a vibrant red.
A door handle, brassy and cool to her touch
finds a perfect fit in her palm
as if it were waiting for her to reach for him.
This is it.
A car door, turn the key.
She's out.
The acid drains and pools on the floor.
For once, her veins are open and free pulsing with her heart,
newly aware of the rhythm of the world.
She is no longer a mouse
Swollen purple crescents part,
revealing a smile that she thought dead
No longer will acid be her drink
and frost be her lover.
Essay
My first day of creative writing senior year, my teacher sat down in front of the class and announced, "Prepare to hate me!" We all laughed, not knowing what she could possibly mean, as this teacher was renowned for being someone that everyone loved. "Today we begin a journey into poetry." she announced. "By the time we are done you will all have a poem that shows your best work and effort." Instantly I knew what she meant by hatting her.Poetry was not something I was talented at, and I would be lying if I was excited for the challenge. Weeks slowly passed and I had no new inspiration and what I had in front of me was, in my mind, complete junk. Finally a friend of mine leaned forward, offering a headphone to his mp3 player, telling me he had a song that I would love,a song called "Bruises" by Chairlift. As I listened I found myself going back to one particular part of the song. It was a quick section of the chorus, talking about "frozen strawberries" being used to ice bruises. I found the imagery startling, the idea of a woman, pale and bruised black and blue popped into my head. I saw her setting these dull frozen strawberries to her bruises, and how they slowly defrosted to become this vibrant red that was so alive and different from the woman holding them. This picture screamed for a story, and this was the moment when "Acid and Frost" was born.
Acid and frost is the very first poem I ever wrote, and it is also the poem that I am most proud of. While it is not personal in the, "my own story" sense, it is personal and close to me in that this poem showed me what I could do with some time, and imagination. This poem gave me the beginning spark to go into a professional direction with writing. "Acid and Frost" was published in Teenink online , a teen literary magazine, got me accepted into an exclusive writing program, and it will always be the poem that I can trace my love of writing back to.
Original Work
Acid and Frost
By Mariah Scanlon
The purple velvet of night
licks at the edges of a yard.
Patio chairs lay, knocked about
a silent monument to fear.
Through gaping holes in the house
emotions sliver out.
Fingers of hate, stretching and reaching
Neighbors close windows and shutters
to protect their facades.
Acidic accusations pour from his mouth.
It laps at her soul and buries in her veins
Scorching and burning
this acid, as it scalds, demands answers
But she has none
No answers to give to this lion of a man
as he rips and tears away at her heart.
A mouse, shaking and afraid,
she merely waits
So sad, So sad she waits
for a fate she knows is coming
Peace, full and heavy
climes in through open windows and doors.
Slowly, so slowly, across the house
it inches.
Its milky white calm spreading
like the sheet of white over a corpse.
A room, lit only by the dewy blue of a television
he lies in wait.
A lion full after the mean of her soul.
liquid courage induced stupor
He is no longer a lion.
Cold black and white tile rise up to meet her.
A chair, thrown and broken
serves as her audience.
Frozen strawberries pressed to and ocean
blue cheek.
Not witnesses but bottles and chairs
as a crystal tear runs downward.
At last, a hand meets a counter.
She's up.
A table, a grainy chair
She's moving
The red of fallen strawberries trail behind her
fallen and left behind, a vibrant red.
A door handle, brassy and cool to her touch
finds a perfect fit in her palm
as if it were waiting for her to reach for him.
This is it.
A car door, turn the key.
She's out.
The acid drains and pools on the floor.
For once, her veins are open and free pulsing with her heart,
newly aware of the rhythm of the world.
She is no longer a mouse
Swollen purple crescents part,
revealing a smile that she thought dead
No longer will acid be her drink
and frost be her lover.
Essay
My first day of creative writing senior year, my teacher sat down in front of the class and announced, "Prepare to hate me!" We all laughed, not knowing what she could possibly mean, as this teacher was renowned for being someone that everyone loved. "Today we begin a journey into poetry." she announced. "By the time we are done you will all have a poem that shows your best work and effort." Instantly I knew what she meant by hatting her.Poetry was not something I was talented at, and I would be lying if I was excited for the challenge. Weeks slowly passed and I had no new inspiration and what I had in front of me was, in my mind, complete junk. Finally a friend of mine leaned forward, offering a headphone to his mp3 player, telling me he had a song that I would love,a song called "Bruises" by Chairlift. As I listened I found myself going back to one particular part of the song. It was a quick section of the chorus, talking about "frozen strawberries" being used to ice bruises. I found the imagery startling, the idea of a woman, pale and bruised black and blue popped into my head. I saw her setting these dull frozen strawberries to her bruises, and how they slowly defrosted to become this vibrant red that was so alive and different from the woman holding them. This picture screamed for a story, and this was the moment when "Acid and Frost" was born.
Acid and frost is the very first poem I ever wrote, and it is also the poem that I am most proud of. While it is not personal in the, "my own story" sense, it is personal and close to me in that this poem showed me what I could do with some time, and imagination. This poem gave me the beginning spark to go into a professional direction with writing. "Acid and Frost" was published in Teenink online , a teen literary magazine, got me accepted into an exclusive writing program, and it will always be the poem that I can trace my love of writing back to.
