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December 30, 2005

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I dont know if I did this or not so I suppose I'll do it... [
November 22, 2005

Name: Justina
Gender: female
Age: 16
Location: maryland
Status: single
Occupation: student
Interests: gymnastics, piano, used to sort of play guitar... , singing/dancing, theatre, musicals and stage crew, swimming, IB program.
Words to Describe you: hmm... chill.
Talents: gymnastics, piano.
Movies: Donnie Darko, Men of Honor.
Music: Jason Mraz, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Fastball, the East Village Opera Co.
Books: The DaVinci Code, Angels and Demons, similar books, Animal Farm, Harry Potter series.
Subject: Theory of Knowledge [it's a pretty cool class sometimes], math as long as I understand it, and IB Music.
How did you find the community? hmmm.. I don't remember.
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November 21, 2005

I changed the layout for the week, thanksgiving theme. =P

The image of the turkey wasn't working for me earlier but I'm going to try and fix it, if it doesn't work oh well. not like I'm going to keep it that long anyway.

Sorry I haven't been updating at all, this community is pretty dead. I'm going to post some things soon that you can all partake in. So within the next week check back here to see if I've updated.

Thanks for not leaving the community. =)


if you haven't posted the survey, and have joined the community you have until sometime next month to do it.
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November 2, 2005

Sorry I've let things become so inactive =/ but I have a poem that you can read so enjoy

by Dana Gioia
here's the poemCollapse )
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October 15, 2005

computer problems so I won't be updating much... sorry =/ hope you guys can keep it active for the time being

Keep with the themes and you can do the september projects still... I'll try to fix my computer as fast as possible

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October 12, 2005

by William Wadsworth

EARTH has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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October 11, 2005

read this firstCollapse )
by: Ralph Waldo Emerson

O tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire;
One morn is in the mighty heaven,
And one in our desire.

The cannon booms from town to town,
Our pulses beat not less,
The joy bells chime their tidings down,
Which children's voices bless.

For he that flung the broad blue fold
O'ermantling land and sea,
One-third part of the sky unrolled
For the banner of the free.

The men are ripe of Saxon kind
To build an equal state,--
To take the stature from the mind
And make of duty fate.

United States! the ages plead,--
Present and Past under-song,--
Go put your creed into your deed,
Nor speak with double tongue.

For sea and land won't understand
Nor skies without a frown
See rights for which the one hand fights
By the other cloven down.

Be just at home; then write your scroll
Of honor o'er the sea,
And bid the broad Atlantic roll
A ferry of the free.

And henceforth there shall be no chain,
Save underneath the sea
The wires shall murmur through the main
Sweet songs of liberty.

The conscious stars accord above,
The waters wild below,
And under, through the cable wove
Her fiery errands go.

For He that worketh high and wise,
Nor pauses in His plan,
Will take the sun out of the skies
Ere freedom out of man.
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October 7, 2005

by: Julie Sheehan
Hate Poem

I hate you truly. Truly I do.
Everything about me hates everything about you.
The flick of my wrist hates you.
The way I hold my pencil hates you.
The sound made by my tiniest bones were they trapped
in the jaws of a moray eel hates you.
Each corpuscle singing in its capillary hates you.

Look out! Fore! I hate you.

The blue-green jewel of sock lint I'm digging from
under by third toenail, left foot, hates you.
The history of this keychain hates you.
My sigh in the background as you pick out the cashews hates you.
The goldfish of my genius hates you.
My aorta hates you. Also my ancestors.

A closed window is both a closed window and an obvious
symbol of how I hate you.

My voice curt as a hairshirt: hate.
My hesitation when you invite me for a drive: hate.
My pleasant "good morning": hate.
You know how when I'm sleepy I nuzzle my head under your
arm? Hate.
The whites of my target-eyes articulate hate. My wit practices it.
My breasts relaxing in their holster from morning to night hate
Layers of hate, a parfait.
Hours after our latest row, brandishing the sharp glee of hate,
I dissect you cell by cell, so that I might hate each one
individually and at leisure.
My lungs, duplicitous twins, expand with the utter validity of
my hate, which can never have enough of you,
Breathlessly, like two idealists in a broken submarine.
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October 6, 2005

The Unknown Soldier
by: Billy Rose

THERE'S A GRAVEYARD near the White House
Where the Unknown Soldier lies,
And the flowers there are sprinkled
With the tears from mother's eyes.

I stood there not so long ago
With roses for the brave,
And suddenly I heard a voice
Speak from out the grave:

"I am the Unknown Soldier,"
The spirit voice began
"And I think I have the right
To ask some questions man to man.

"Are my buddies taken care of?
Was their victory so sweet?
Is that big reward you offered
Selling pencils on the street?

"Did they really win the freedom
They battled to achieve?
Do you still respect that Croix de Guerre
Above that empty sleeve?

"Does a gold star in the window
Now mean anything at all?
I wonder how my old girl feels
When she hears a bugle call.

"And that baby who sang
'Hello, Central, give me no man's land'--
Can they replace her daddy
With a military band?

"I wonder if the profiteers
Have satisfied their greed?
I wonder if a soldier's mother
Ever is in need?

"I wonder if the kings, who planned it all
Are really satisfied?
They played their game of checkers
And eleven million died.

"I am the Unknown Soldier
And maybe I died in vain,
But if I were alive and my country called,
I'd do it all over again."
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October 3, 2005

You people are boring me so I'm going to get some use out of you. =P I'm doing this writing contest and I want you totell me what you think of the first paragraph... mainly I want to know if it makes you want to keep reading

so here it is....

Most people would say that death is one of the worst things that could happen to a person but for my mother it was the greatest experience of her life. Those that knew her would say that there was no one like her in this world and for the remaining twenty years of her life it was true. She was one of those people who lived every single day like it was their last. Sometimes when I'm standing in front of her grave I can almost feel her standing next to me, telling me how gorgeous she looked in her casket or what a marvelous gravestone she chose for herself. If there is life after death however my mother would also be complaining about the dead flowers in front of her grave and how I'm an awful child for not visiting her anymore. If there is life after death, my mother is lonely.

(it's fiction by the way)
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October 3, 2005

by: Sir Edwin Arnold
Woman's Voice

Her voice was ever low,
Gentle and soft--an excellent thing in woman.

NOT in the swaying of the summer trees,
When evening breezes sing their vesper hymn--
Not in the minstrel's mighty symphonies,
Nor ripples breaking on the river's brim,
Is earth's best music; these may leave awhile
High thoughts in happy hearts, and carking cares beguile.

But even as the swallow's silken wings,
Skimming the water of the sleeping lake,
Stir the still silver with a hundred rings--
So doth one sound the sleeping spirit wake
To brave the danger, and to bear the harm--
A low and gentle voice--dear woman's chiefest charm.

An excellent thing it is, and ever lent
To truth and love, and meekness; they who own
This gift, by the all-gracious Giver sent,
Ever by quiet step and smile are known;
By kind eyes that have wept, hearts that have sorrowed--
By patience never tired, from their own trials borrowed.

An excellent thing it is, when first in gladness
A mother looks into her infant's eyes,
Smiles to its smiles, and saddens to its sadness,
Pales at its paleness, sorrows at its cries;
Its food and sleep, and smiles and little joys--
All these come ever blent with one low gentle voice.

An excellent thing it is when life is leaving,
Leaving with gloom and gladness, joys and cares,
The strong heart failing, and the high soul grieving
With strangest thoughts, and wild unwonted fears;
Then, then a woman's low soft sympathy
Comes like an angel's voice to teach us how to die.

But a most excellent thing it is in youth,
When the fond lover hears the loved one's tone,
That fears, but longs to syllable the truth--
How their two hearts are one, and she his own;
It makes sweet human music--oh! the spells
That haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed maiden tells!
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October 1, 2005

WHEN all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green ;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen ;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away ;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown ;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down ;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among :
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.

by: Charles Knigsley
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September 30, 2005

by: William Bliss Carman

Lord of the Far Horizons

Lord of the far horizons,
Give us the eyes to see
Over the verge of sundown
The beauty that is to be.
Give us the skill to fashion
The task of thy command,
Eager to follow the pattern
We may not understand.

Masters of ancient wisdom
And the lore lost long ago,
Inspire our foolish reason
With faith to seek and know.
When the skein of truth is tangled
And the lead of sense is blind,
Foster the fire to lighten
Our unillumined mind.

Lord of the lilac ranges
That lift on the flawless blue,
Grant us the heart of raputure
The earlier ages knew--
The spirit glad and ungrudging,
And light as the mountain air,
To walk with the Sons of Morning
Through the glory of Earth the fair.
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September 29, 2005

by: William Allingham


O Spirit of the Summertime !
Bring back the roses to the dells ;
The swallow from her distant clime,
The honey-bee from drowsy cells.

Bring back the friendship of the sun ;
The gilded evenings, calm and late,
When merry children homeward run,
And peeping stars bid lovers wait.

Bring back the singing; and the scent
Of meadowlands at dewy prime;--
Oh, bring again my heart's content,
Thou Spirit of the Summertime !

(I'm not sure how much I like this one
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September 28, 2005

by: Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

I AM the Comic Muse,
Soft as the summer rain,
Come the children I bear
Out of the breath of my brain;
Love,--and Laughter that lifts,
Joy with the lilt of a song,
Beauty that's born of praise,
And Faith that has righted wrong.
I am the heart of a child,
I am the trust of a maid,
Spirit and passion of man,
Love that is unbetrayed;
I am the Muse that smiles,
Lo ! and gladness is rife,
Comedy, I am called,
I am the mirror of Life.


I am the Tragic Muse;
Born of the web of my brain,
Lo ! my children shall pass,
Poverty, Pathos, and Pain;
Labor,--and Love forsworn,
Each in their turn I name.
Jealousy, evil born
Sorrow, and Sin and Shame.
I am the World's despair,
I am the heart's despite,
Woven of me is fear,
Shadow of mine is night;
I am the Muse that weeps,
Out of my grief is Strife,
Tragedy, I am called,
I am the mirror of Life!

noteCollapse )
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September 27, 2005

And I Have You
by: Nikki Giovanni

Rain has drops Sun has shine
Moon has beams That make you mine

Rivers have banks Sands for shores
Hearts have heartbeats That make me yours

Needles have eyes Though pins my prick
Elmer has glue To make things stick

Winter has Spring Stockings feet
Pepper has mint To make it sweet

Teachers have lessons Soup du jour
Lawyers sue bad folks Doctors cure

All and all this much is true
You have me And I have you.
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September 26, 2005


May the plane of the other woman explode
with just one fatality.
But, should it not, may the other woman spew
persistent dysentery from
your first night ever after.
May the other woman vomit
African bees and Argentine wasps.
May cobras uncoil from her loins.
May she be eaten not by something dramatic
like lions, merely by
a particularly homely wart-hog.
I do not wish the other woman
to fall down a well
for fear of spoiling the water,
nor die on the highway because
she might obstruct traffic.
Rather: something easy, and cheap,
like clap contracted en route
from some other bloke.
And should she nevertheless still survive
all these critical possibilities,
may she quietly die of boredom with you.

-Elisavietta Ritchie
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September 22, 2005

I know I haven't updated lately but I've been doing homework and haven't been online much.

I have a task for you all. Find me pictures of lightening, clouds, a sunset, or anything like that. If you find something cool that doesn't really fit what I want who cares post it anyway. Post your pictures as an entry and I'd prefer if you get me more than two you use an lj-cut. It would be much appreciated if you did this for me. Then maybe if I like yours the best I'll use as a new banner that I'll post for promoting.

Thanks in advance to those who do it.

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September 20, 2005

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
Use it if you want I got bored. :P
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September 19, 2005

SurveyCollapse )
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