"Modest" Proposal (Satirical)

   For many years now there has been controversy over gun laws in the United States. Most recently of these controversies revolves around the many shootings, particularly of schools, that have taken arise in this nation. We have lost so many of our country's youth to these shootings; all it takes is one disturbed individual with access to a weapon and countless lives can be lost; young and often defenseless lives that are taken too soon. Imagine being a parent to one of those victims. Imagine having to bury your child. Imagine going through something so inconceivably tragic and know that it was not a once in a lifetime chance, that you are only one of hundreds and hundreds of mothers and fathers and guardians that go through this. Imagine that one morning you forgot to kiss them goodbye was the last morning you even had a chance. Imagine this, but can you?

   Now try to imagine a world where this horror does not exist; imagine a world where every child is truly safe in their schools, where no parent ever has to worry of such things, where no child ever has to walk in on the news to see the headline "Children Slaughtered in School Shooting". Think about it. Think about how nice it would be.

   Since 1992, there have been 387 school shootings in the United States alone; the number of victims even higher and the number of shootings only increasing per year since 2011. There has been many different attempts at solving the issue such as increasing security measures with cameras and locks, more lock-down drills for student prepping, and tries to fix our guns laws here. I as well have my own proposal for a solution.

   A way I believe could help prevent the deaths of school children and adolescents is to have them wear bulletproof suits all the time. We have already begun producing bulletproof backpacks for children and little shields for them to carry around, why not just produce an item that can reflect bullets at all angles!

   The design of this suit would be simple. It would cover completely from neck down in a thick, pressured material also that is machine washable. At the area of the chest and back and the front/sides of the neck there will be strong, bullet impenetrable padding; the arms, legs, and other remaining regions will have thinner, softer padding for more efficient movement and more comfort. The stiffness of the main padding provides posture adjustment while also evenly distributed weight in the front and back; this design may ultimately decrease the effects of scoliosis. The use of these suits potentially lead to the end of the "should all schools have uniforms or not" debate through the sleek one-piece design in either only black, white, or navy blue.

   Now one may counter that buying bulletproof suits, or uniforms, for children would be far too costly, but I have a solution to that as well. As it has been done for many other things, there would be several major corporations will to donate money for these uniforms assuming, of course, that they would be recognized for their charity through the use of schools campaigning their businesses. I am sure companies like Coca-Cola, Mars, and McDonald's that have a target focus audience of children will surely take advantage this offer.    

   The concept of the bulletproof child suits have many significant positives to the design that only add to the overall idea, these being comfort, style, support and ingenuity upon many other things. Although, despite these, it is also important to show exactly how supreme this plan is indeed by comparing it to its contending plans.    

   Some may believe there are other ways of solving the issue. One that I have heard is that there should be psychological testing done for a gun license is received; however, this is how I see it: it is going to be far too difficult and complicated to hold psychological analysis tests for all people who register for a gun licenses, and many people feel as though psych testing is too invasive. Another popular idea I have heard is simply to restrict guns in general, although, as the original document of the American Constitution states, all citizens have the right to bare arms, and that would then easily be proved unconstitutional in court and change to the original laws would be reinstated. So why don't we just bulletproof our children? Then the amount of guns and psychotic shooters does not matter, right? I see this as all very simple.

Hybridized Fan-Fiction: The Drop-Off

Excerpt of Finding Nemo in the style of Edgar Allen Poe


It was a place at the cease point of the reefs; there was no safety, no security, where all factions of comfort vanished within the moment the eyes were set upon it. It was titled, and with most accurate depiction embedded, the Drop-Off. There bordered the frontier to a world unexplored for Marlin, a clown fish significantly inadequate of risibility.

The Drop-Off was a bluff ledge that separated the coral reefs -the ones of which the clown fish had lived, and all else. At the cliffs peak, it was an experience surreal, an edge to an abyss, nothing more than the Sea and darkness for near eternal bounds. This, Marlin stared into, vigorously admonishing his bairn: Nemo.

He was in constant fear for his gimped and sole son. The young fish was deformed from hatch, his right fin unmatched in size to the other; a tragedy induced this as well as the murder of his mother and many siblings. None but Nemo and his father survived the brutal assail, and writhed with fright had Marlin thus been since.

And now this father had arrived to witness his child treading directly before the impending nothingness. Upon alarm, he rushed for him.

"Nemo!" he cried, embracing him tightly. The young fish squirmed in his father's tight hold brimming with bewilderment and vexation. "Why would you tempt fate as to venture into the uncharted? Surely, you know better!"

"But not was I to venture," Nemo pursued to clarify; "for only did my glance meander in awe, not wanderlust-"

"Enough!" Marlin bellowed. "You of all I have never known to be wanton, and yet, we are here, at the doors to certain peril. You know you are handicapped."

Nemo's voice grew with rage. "I can swim fine, father! Do not speak of me with such inequity; am I not fish like rest?"

To his reason, Marlin only reflected fear. "You engrave these thoughts into your mind that you have such capabilities, but you do not. You are frail and insufficient a swimmer; as your father it is my duty to protect you, so listen child when I establish that you cannot do these things, Nemo!"

Nemo abstained his eyes from his father's, his cold-blooded heart boiled. "I detest you," he murmured.

Melancholy contorted Marlin's features; he sighed with utmost despair and his fins drooped instantly to his sides, lifelessly.

The ray fish that had been Nemo's class professor took cognizance of their dispute. He approached Marlin offering to assist them of any troubles.

As the two spoke artificial palaver, it was spotted and exclaimed by another young fish -of noticeably sizable dentition- the sight of Nemo swimming profusely off the great ledge. It was indeed what Marlin turned to find.

Nemo moved upon excessive force to have as much ocean water between them as possible; not once did he look back. Marlin reprimanded him, shouting for him to come back, though he did not.

No amount of course language could turn him back in the direction of his father's arms. It was futile, none the less, Marlin continued. It was not until the fate he feared had arose did he silence; a most vile and massive beast emerged directly in the presence of Nemo. Nemo shrieked and wailed at the sight of the monster. Helpless, he swam mad in attempt of escape as the devilish brute clasped him.    

With immense horror, Marlin screamed. His heart was pounding upon his breast as though it were to burst. The strange and monstrous creature abducted his son and fled with him in their grasp! Marlin charged only to find in his path a second fiend, one with a box of ebony color that released a light as of Aether's. The heavenly flash blinded him; the stinging of his eyes seeping in to his brains. He floated aimlessly in a circular pattern, unaware to the lack of frontward progression, for the spinning in his head made it difficult enough attempting not to tip to his side.

Slowly and wearily, his sight returned and he caught glimpse of a craft. He swam as swiftly as he could muster towards it. Oh, but alas! the mechanical vessel had absconded into the vast and salted waters.

Talk About A Grand Entrance!: Humor and Satire Essay

This I am about to tell you, is the entirely true story of a very messy, stressful, and overall chaotic day, otherwise known by my family as the day I was born. 

And no, I am not kidding.

I wish I was.

Actually, no I don't. This is hilarious. 

It was a cold but clear autumn morning, comfortable yet not too comfortable. My father paced excitedly back and forth across the driveway as the car warmed up, making the calls that I was on my way. Now keep in mind, this was 1999, a time before things like social media and such, when news traveled slower than it now does. Despite this, in some way still unknown to my parents, by the time they reached the hospital, my mother's brother Uncle Mike had already been there for some time. He lived ten minutes farther away and was not even the first person to get the call; it's an enigma, then again so is he. 

My parents checked in and were given a room. They sat for some time, my mother's patience beginning to chip away and my father hooking her up to the machine through his past knowledge other recent trips. Soon the doctor entered and only with news that my mother was not very far along and that they should just go home and wait. She would not take this, however. Rather, she went out of the room and walked the halls, and walked, and walked. It was her attempt at moving me along. 

A good mile and a half later and... nothing. This was the moment in which my dad now wishes he took as a sign of how long it was going to take me to get ready in the morning. 

It was now the grandparents began to arrive. And it was one, my father's father Pa, that was especially nervous. He, much like my father, and my mother, and my mother's father, and my mother's grandfather, and his father, and my little brother, and myself; he had crazy anxiety. Pa also happened to be in the process of quitting smoking, so without the cigarettes it was even worse. To help, he applied a nicotine patch, though this was not enough. What had helped before apparently was caffeine. To get some food and drinks, now several hours after arriving with little sign of myself arriving as well, the grandparents went to go get some food. Luckily there was a Pizza Hut right across the street, so they went. Pa ordered two ice coffees and two large diet cokes to caffeinate himself. The rest just had pizza. As they ate, bickering could be heard from over their shoulders. It was a customer and the manager; they were arguing. The little skirmish grew louder and louder until all other chatter ceased and all other eyes were on them. A screaming match had begun.

Suddenly, a chandelier in the pizza place crashed and shattered on the floor, no warning to it either. Everyone in the Pizza Hut was inspected for injuries; no one in my family was hurt. But that did not stop one of them from being sent to the emergency room... 

Pa's caffeine was now starting to take effect, all of it. Now I am still not sure why he thought caffeine would help calm his nerves, maybe because he's addicted to that too, though the only effect it had on him was hyper activity. This would be usually not all that life threatening simply to be on a crazy sugar rush, only if it weren't for the fact the he also was on the nicotine from the patch. You're not supposed to do that, and it seems he had learned the hard way. All of the chemicals in his body evidently gave him heart palpitations and this was believed to be a heart attack. Pa spent what ended up being a several hours in the emergency room just a few floors below my parents. 

Meanwhile, my other grandfather we refer to as Poppy was called by a co-worker and went to find a quiet spot to converse with them. Unfortunately, the maternity wing itself was filled with nothing but the sounds of screaming soon-to-be mothers and newborn children, occasionally scared spouses as well. Since of this, Poppy took the call from inside the nearest elevator. 

This went from a pretty good idea to a really bad one rather quickly.     

Not too far into call, the elevator got stuck. This situation is not a fun one, no matter who you are, but to make it worse for him, he already has anxiety and can easily to made jumpy plus someone in the elevator with him whom just happens to be very fond of elevators. At all. 

The other man in the elevator was in a state of pure panic and immense fright. He walked in tight circles, his hands on his temples, then on his cheeks, then in his hair, then over his eyes, then back to his temples. The stranger was having a nervous breakdown. Minutes later, the security guards of the building were able to open doors enough to squeeze a person through, but then also realized that the elevator was frustratingly place between two floors. They could not climb up either, so they had to jump down. Poppy did not waste any time getting out of there once they let him jump. The other guy, however, was too freaked out to, so Poppy stayed to help talk him down. 

It had been 10-12 hours by the time we finally had everyone in the same place, which was great, but not the end of the story. Because when you have been sitting in the hospital for 10-12 hours, suffering from not only immense irritation as a whole but ceaseless pain and hunger and thirst. These go along with several other things too. You are not happy person at this time, rather you are a monstrous and frightening being because you are just that 100% done with everything. If my father never feared my mother before, he sure as hell did that day. 

It was as if she had been possessed. Her eyes molded into a look of Death; her teeth were gritting enough ultimately crush each other or anything else that got too close; her voice may have even dropped a few octaves in her growling shushes and roaring "SHUT UP!"s. Her trigger happy clicks for more morphine were the only sounds she aloud. Whispers were too loud. Eating was too loud. Walking around was too loud. Breathing was becoming too loud. And then-!

Well before anyone actually got a chance to be killed, I finally decided to show up. So in the end, it was all good. And now my family can look back at this crazy day and laugh...um, well, sort of.            

List Slam Poetry

To the child in the corner too shy to speak
Whose head is dropped with their eyes to their feet because they fear making eye contact
Your voice is worth hearing
Do not be afraid of what to say
Do not be afraid of how they will react
Do not put it in you head your that you are not worth your voice
Do not let others put it in your head that you are not worth you voice
Do not doubt that what you want to say is not worth saying
Do not doubt that that your words can change something, anything, everything
Do not let yourself remain unknown to the world around
Do not let yourself remain unknown to the person sitting next to you
Do not let yourself remain unknown to yourself
The quietest people have the loudest thoughts
Speak your mind
Do not regret it

Student Poem Form: D-Mck Thingamajig

This poem follows the rhyme pattern:
A
A
A,B
B
B,C
C

There is such sweetness to a love like thine
I am a winter warmed by new sunshine
Where a life divine resurrects to anew
What was lost long once in an icy frozen brew
The buds then grew so tall and sweet
As the blooms awoke from their snowy retreat

Free Verse Poem

 He had tears dripping down his puffy red cheeks,
 And he had burns lined in rows on his thighs.
 And I tried not to cry.
 At least I tried. 

 It was going so well,
 This little battle of ours,
 Bodies remained standing even in the clouds of smoke. 

 So busy enjoying the success we became Napoleons,
 We let our guard down and suffered a crushing blow. 

 And it was times like these when a soldier questions their battles,
 He was placing ponder to his own. 

 He wanted to raise the white flag,
 Take execution if he had to.
 He wanted to surrender,
 And I couldn't blame him,
 But I couldn't let him be defeated either. 

 I told him:
 The battle is almost won.
 Yet, it is only a battle. 

 When it's won you receive nothing more than a few days peace before boots are only shined to be bloodstained again.

 For the wars of which every man fights is endless.
 There is no true victory to it,
 The smoke never clears until we lie defeated, 

 But we continue to fight. 

 Because these wars are not about victory or succession,
 Rather keeping our chins up and our eyes glaring proud even when you know you have no chance to leave the battlefield alive. 

 Not backing down,
 Not giving up,
 Not surrendering.

 We fight for our army,
 Our supporters,
 The people who won't let us surrender.

 We fight to see their smiles each day,
 And love them,
 And cherish them. 

 So I say once more the battle is almost won,
 And I shall polish my boots and bayonets,
 Only to tarnish with blood and dirt and gunpowder,
 To stand with chin raised and eyes glaring 

 In preparation to fight another day.

Three Step Poem

Draft 1

There is a force in our existence to which we are bound.
It is found, weighing us to the ground. 
No matter how high you try to fly you will fall.
No matter how short or tall, it is the same for all, you will fall. 
And the purpose for the course of this force is simple.
It may feel unjust to us, but without it wouldn't exist.
For there have been tries to touch the skies and did.
People that defied the ties to their shoes and flew.
But few you got to touch the stars and taste the sky, had died from a lack of oxygen. 
There is reason that what goes up must come down, no matter how much it hurts to drop from the clouds. 
Without a sense of where to rest our feet, the flying wouldn't cease, and the brain would tire from the lack of oxygen.
As much as we hate to be put in our place, we own our thanks, to gravity. 


Revision: grammatical and word choice improved for better flow, sentences dropped, split up to make more lines and establish emphasis on certain lines, added another list piece


Draft 2

There is a force in our existence to which we are bound
And it is found
Weighing us to the ground 
No matter how high you try to fly you will fall
No matter how short or tall, if you walk, run or crawl
It is the same for all
You will fall
And the purpose for the course of this force is simple
It may feel unjust to us, but without it we wouldn't exist
For there have been tries to touch the skies and did
People that defied the ties to their shoes and flew
But the few you got to touch the stars and taste the sky
Died from a lack of oxygen
There is reason that what goes up must come down
No matter how much it hurts to drop from the clouds
Without a sense of where to rest our feet, the flying wouldn't cease
And the brain would tire from the lack of oxygen
As much as we hate to be put in our place
We own our thanks, to gravity 


Revision: poem has been broken into stanzas of three and four lines with more lines added, more word choice fixes 

Final 

There is a force in our existence to which we are bound

And it is found

Weighing us to the ground 

No matter how high you try to fly you will fall

No matter how short or tall, if you walk, run or crawl

It is the same to all

You will fall

And the course of this force is simple

It may feel unjust to us

But without it 

We wouldn't exist

For there have been tries to touch the skies and did

People who defied the ties to their shoes and flew

But the few you got to touch the stars and taste the sky

Died from a lack of oxygen

There is a reason that 

What goes up 

Must come down

No matter how much it hurts to drop from the clouds

Without a sense of where to rest our feet

The flying wouldn't cease

And the brain would tire from the lack of oxygen

So as much as we hate to be put in our place

We own our thanks

To gravity