Jesusfreak 93

Desolate nothingness. It was a land void of any life or existence. The trees stood naked, the ground nothing but ash and cracked clay. The sun bared its harsh light toward the emptiness that was this place.

Our bus rumbled along this forgotten road in the middle of nowhere. The dust kicked up by the tires clung to the windows like paste, making it nigh on impossible to look out of them. It made me wonder how our driver could even see where he was going. And, although the AC must have been blasting due to the rapid movement of my teacher’s silk scarf, it felt like it was nearing Equator level temperatures. These long bus rides were a torture like no other.

What are we even doing here, I wondered. Probably another one of those “this is what life used to be like” tours. Man, I hate those. It’s always the same trip, the same routine, in which they try to tell us all about what life was like before the war. What it was like before we humans started destroying each other, leaving most of the world inhabitable.

Long, arduous bus ride into no-man’s land. Check. I started to make a list of all the things identical to our previous field trips.

I sigh and leaned my head back against the seat. All around me my classmates caused all sorts of ruckus. All of which my teacher seemed oblivious to. They don’t know it yet, but they’re in for one boring day, I think to myself. Boring with a capital B. This trip will be no different than the others, of that I was sure.

We turned onto what, I’m assuming, used to be an asphalt road. Now, it was nothing more than a torture chamber for my butt as we bounced and jostled mercilessly up and down, side to side. Out of a cloud of dust appeared a chain-link fence, heavily guarded. Beyond, three lone building stood. As we approached, I realized two of the buildings were houses. Well, old houses I should say. Their build was nothing like we use now.

Decaying ruins of days better left forgotten. Check.

The bus pulls to a stop and we wait. From behind the first building came a long line of security guards. They formed a tunnel leading all the way to the building’s door. A well-built man stomped into the bus.

“All of you form a single-file line. Walk straight through the line of men to the door and enter the Visitor’s Center. No talking. Period. Not even to my men. Let’s get this done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Now, move!”

Visitor’s Center, pfft, you mean dilapidating shack! I laughed to myself.

He turned and left. Everyone seemed tense and jumpy as they gathered up their belongings and headed, as ordered, to the door. I shook my head and sighed. All these big guys are the same. Their job is to scare so we don’t do something stupid while under their watch. I said as much to my friend Joslyn who seemed especially frightened.

“Come on, he’s just trying to freak you out so you don’t go wondering off or something. Their G.I. Joe/ black ops stuff is just an act. Lighten up! Some of them are kind of cute. Especially that one.” I said giving her a nudge with my elbow. I leaned closer to the window and winked at the closest guard to us. Unfortunately he seemed less than impressed.

“Knock it off Bren, it seems pretty real to me,” she said pulling me away from the window. “So, don’t do anything stupid to show off, you know how Miss Tate hates that. Just follow the rules like the rest of us. And stay close; I don’t like the look of some of those ‘cute’ guards out there.”

I reluctantly agreed, and picked my backpack up off the floor. What a waste, I thought with a sigh. All those good looking security guards and no one to give them a hard time. But, I promised to be on my best behavior, so I washed all mischievous thoughts from my mind. Now I just had to figure out what my best behavior was.

Over protective security guards. Check.

Okay, I know I'm going off on a limb here but it is driving me nuts trying to figure out what show this line comes from! About two years ago I saw a kids show about a girl who- once put down for a nap -travels to an imaginary world and meets up with her imaginary friends. In this episode she meets up with giant frogs who- after a short conversation about, I think, what is the best kind of snack -say "No, not flying cookies; better!" Errrgggg! I don't know if you can help me or not, I didn't provide much info, but that's all I remember. Please someone put me out of my misery and help me figure out what this show is. Thanks!

I haven't posted any poems on here in a while but i wanted to know what you thought of my new poem (well sort of new). here goes:

The Field (could have a new name)

Behold a field

Left dark and lifeless.

Ignored by people

Low and strife less.

****

Its rutted dirt

Left dry and broken,

Once fruitful trees

Left old; begotten.

****

Evil demons

Masked in dark

Delivered the field,

A fresh painful mark.

****

Dry grassy hands

Reach up to the sky.

Praying for healing

Or the chance to die.

****

But behold comes a savior,

Walking; alone.

Dragging a plow

And seeds to be sown.

****

Powerful hands

Bring love to the ground.

He carves the earth

Without a sound.

****

It takes much strength

To bring life to this earth.

An almost dead field,

Revived by new birth.

****

The savior lay motionless

On the ground; almost dead.

Was his work all for nothing

But to plant a death bed?

****

His life for a field

That deserved simply naught,

But the pain and the strife

And the death that it sought.

****

Though, through all of his struggles

New hope starts to rise.

Death over took him

But now life is his prize!

****

Around him grows

The fruits of the field

Now saved from what seemed

A fate that was sealed.

****

Strengthened by joy

That his field was now saved

He can now move on

to another soon grave.

what do you think?

i'm not sure what the book will be called but here's the first chap.

Of Life and Death

Erwyn reclined against the white-wash cottage that he called home. He breathed in the last fragrance of summer that seemed to be drifting further away. Carrying the scent of lilacs and wild roses, the breeze gently tugged at the dark ringlets lain above Erwyn’s midnight brow. This crowned eyes of a magnificent blue, brighter than even the sky itself.

Standing, Erwyn placed his hands at the small of his back; the one spot that endured the most ware throughout the day. Turning to face the sunset, he looked upon the distant mountains and valleys that rose and fell along the horizon.

“Someday,” whispered Erwyn. “someday I’ll travel those mountains as knight and tame the inhabitants that claim such power over them.”

How can something so peaceful looking, harbor such wicked foes of man? He wondered.

Erwyn pivoted toward the front of the house, lead by the aroma of seasoned beacon and stewed vegetables. As he walked, he caught sight of a strange black cloud out of the corner of his eye. The object loomed above the same mountains he had looked upon just moments before. Growing in size as it approached, Erwyn’s mind returned to the talk of a wild beast of the sky that plagued the lands. Such talk was spread by most of the villagers.

The farm boy sped toward the door with, what seemed to him as, inhuman speed. Erwyn launched through the door and desperately searched for his father’s questioning gaze. As he recounted his tale of the darkened silhouette that was rapidly approaching, Erwyn’s mother frantically ripped at the sleeve of her beloved. He freed himself of his wife’s grasp and placed his hands on Erwyn’s shoulders.

“We need to be strong for your other and sister.” He explained. “ Go to your room, grab your bow, and help me get the women to the cellar.”

As instructed, Erwyn returned, bow in hand. He followed as his family fled for the only place that would offer them safety. Tearing his gaze from the cellar and his loved ones, Erwyn lifted his eyes to the heavens where the beast of the air slithered through the atmosphere. As it flew, it spit pillars of smoke and fire that crumbled to the ground, devouring everything in it’s path. Black talons and teeth flashing, the beast tore at homes and fields, leaving all in ruin.

Flicking his gaze back to his kin, and their persuit, Erwyn’s foot caught, and the ground entered his line of vision. Suddenly, all went black, with the last sounds her heard being a chorus ofdesperate screams of both mother and sister. Then: nothing.

In the darkness of his mind he fought for the last of his conscience. As a dreaded coma enveloped him, one word continued to echo; “No!…”

would you rather live like there is a God and find out that there sin't one, or live like there isn't a God and find out that there is one? for me it's the first one. if i find out that there isn't a God i've lost nothing in my life. but if i live my life believing that there isn't a God and i found out that there is one i go to hell and wish i'd believed when i had the chance. wouldn't you?

...what would stick out the most? what is one memory that will always be on the front of your mind? is it good or bad? painful or joyful?

okay, here is only part of my poem. one because i haven't finished it yet. i'd like to hear your thoughts about how it's going so far.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

These sticks of rainbow

Infuse color

into parchment

That was once still and bland.

***

Swirls of orange and yellow

form a transparent orb

Lain upon a ripple-less sea

of blue lead

***

Stroke by stroke

characters begin

to dance about the page.

Praising every

splash of color

emanating from the heavens above.

what do you think. comment please.

this story is a little duifferent than ones i ussually write. i wrote it a couple of years ago for english, hope you like it and tell me what you think. please!

A Little Adventure

"Run!" yelled Kaya's mother as she bound toward her. Hunters were gaining ground as they ran after her mother. Kaya looked around for a place to hide but found none. She took off toward the river as she heard a gun shot ring through the air.

"Kaya, keep running!" shouted her mother. Kaya whipped her head around to see her mother wrapped in a thick net. She wished she could stop and free her mother but continued as instructed. Next thing Kaya knew, she toppled down a steep embankment. Kaya landed with a thud and darkness closed in around her.

Kaya woke to the gentle lap of the river as it reached out and licked the rock in front of her.

"What happened?" she wondered. Looking up, the baby panda discovers a high river embankment looming above her.

"Mama!" Kaya screamed, but received no reply. She wept. The panda sat still for a moment then began the steep climb from where she had fallen. Kaya looked but saw no sign of her mother. She was lost. Kaya rest her little black nose upon the ground and began to sniff; looking for the path the hunters had taken. She found it.

"Those weird two-legged animals must have taken Mama." Kaya reasoned. She resumed sitting and looked to the sky. The sun was falling in the west, so Kaya decided to wait until morning to resume the search for her mother.

Kaya woke early and ate a filling breakfast of bamboo shoots. "Well, here I go." she said with a hard gulp. Kaya took a step forward and headed in the direction she hoped her mother has taken.

By midday, Kaya became tired and hungry. Her tiny paws hurt.

"I'll never find Mama!" cried Kaya. Suddenly, she noticed a weird grumble and roar. There before Kaya stood, what looked like, a large metal monster; for she had never happened upon a truck before. Kaya then ventured to the rear of this so-called monster and sniffed a wheel. All of the sudden the monster roared and spit smoke. She watched the men, who captured her mother, crawl out of the "head" and approach the back of the green monster. Kaya had to hide. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and jumped in the air toward the monster. Thud!

Kaya opened her eyes on impact and stared into the darkness. Quickly she scrambled deep into the darkness and hid from view. Kaya felt something soft. It was her mother! Kaya squeaked with excitement only to quickly cover her mouth when she remembered the hunters.

"Mama," whispered Kaya.

"Kaya, my darling," cried her mother wrapping Kaya in her two big black arms.

Then Kaya thought, "I have to get Mama out of here, but how?" CRASH!

Kaya noticed the sudden blackness in the monster's "stomach". Carefully she ventured to the spot that had once been the entrance. Kaya gave the barrier a little growl and placed her front paws against the cold metal. Gently pushing, Kaya realized it was stuck tight. Her mother came to her side and pushed ten times harder than Kaya. Her mom humphed, and as soon as she sat down the monster lurched forward. Kaya became frightened. Then she heard a soft jingle on one side of the barrier that separated her from her destination outside. Kaya wobbled toward the sound and saw a silvery rusted chain. She wiggled the handle, which was beside the chain. Kaya hoped it would remove the obstacle, which stood before her. Pulling it toward her Kaya fell backward and the barrier swung open, exposing the sun. The little panda sat there for a moment and pondered the situation.

"Jump! The forest floor will cushion your fall," yelled Kaya's mother. Kaya did as her mother wished and jumped, her mother following. They watched the truck monster roll away from their spot on the rain forest floor. The pandas stood and ran into the forest as the monster left. Kaya was elated she found her mother. After all, she is just a baby.

The Old Man

I stood starring up at him, while he looked out into an empty bay. He shivered, just once, as a soft, chilling breeze traveled down the dock. I remember that night quite clearly as he stood there grasping my arm, watching that forlorn section of water rise and fall. I lowered my eyes and stared at the water too. We were watching for a boat, a schooner to be exact, that would arrive at dusk that very night. You might, however, wonder why we stood in the chill on that late autumn’s night, waiting for a ship that was yet to arrive. That story, began in the morning before dawn.

I sat at my window just before the dawn. I looked down at the path that ran up from the beach. I waited for him, my grandfather, to amble up it and take me away for one of our adventures. It wasn’t a special day-- not a holiday or birthday-- it was just a Tuesday; my favorite time of the week. This was the day when my grandfather would come and take me away to spend the whole day together. Just to two of us. Now there I was, watching him shuffle up the path to my old, wooden back porch.

I ran down the steps and swung open the door. There stood the old man, a proud smile pursed his lips as I jumped into his arms and gave him a kiss.

“Grandpa Tory you remembered!” I squealed with delight.

“Of course my dear lad. Did you think I’d forget my favorite time of the week?” He asked in a deep calming tone.

Today was an exciting day, for I was going to see what my grandfather did for a living. We walked down Main Street and over a few blocks to a lonely old dock that possessed not even a fishing boat.

“This,” chuckled the Old man. “Is where I take command.”

He shook with laughter as he bent to light a lantern. That statement made me remember the stories he told. Stories of times when he was in command of a grand ship instead of a forgotten dock. I felt sorry for the old man while thinking of times that were gone.

He took me by the arm and aimed me in the direction of the so-still water.

“Now, we wait my dear boy,” He whispered softly. “For my favorite part of this job. There,” He said pointing. “Is where my joy will come from.”

At the time, I did not understand what he was saying. “Where my joy will come from.” The words did not make sense to me, but later I found what he meant.

We stayed there all day; clearing seaweed from buoys and anything else that needed to be done on the dock. Then, there we were, looking out upon the water, watching for something that brought my grandfather joy. Then, there it was, sailing across the empty span of water. It was a schooner! My excitement raised as I saw one for the very first time.

I looked up at my grandfather and saw a smile grace his lips, and I knew what he meant by “my joy”. Seeing this ship gave him joy, this was his joy. He smiled thinking of the times when he was the captain of such a ship. He smiled thinking of the times when he did more than just wait for their coming.

He swung his lantern three times and the schooner slowly approached. My grandfather then took my hand and headed down the street, toward home.

“Grandpa,” I asked. “Is that all you do? Just wait on the boat to arrive.”

He gave me a half smile and a slight little chuckle. “Yes, my boy. That’s all I do.”

At one time, I was puzzled by this. I could not believe he stayed there all day just to wait on a ship and bring it into bay. However, I now know why he waited on those ships in the night. He did it to remember the times he spent on those ships.

Who is this man, you may ask, that I loved with such affection, who spent his time looking for joy in grand ships? Captain Tory, of course, my grandfather and great seaman.

I’ve now taken over for my grandfather on the old dock, and stand in the chill waiting for ships in the night. For I also find joy in the sight of a schooner, floating on a ripple less bay, drenched in moon light.



my last name is "Ankeny". try to pronounce that! (ank-i-nee) i know, it is totally weird. it's funny though when people like telemarketers call and try to pronounce our name. ROFL! we've gotten everything from "Ank and Nee" to "Onkeny". do you have a weird last name that people can't pronounce? what is it?

"i can't take this any more God, why are you doing this?" well, these past few days i've been feeling that way. it seems as though EVERYTHING is breaking and needing fixed. first the blender, then the furnace, the fridge, etc. all of which require money to fix. not to mention all of this happened the week of Thanksgiving. actually it happened a mere few days before Thanksgiving. sounds exciting doesn't it?

sometimes we just don't have the money to fix the things needing fixing. that makes Christmas harder. do you ever feel like God doesn't listen? i mean i know he does but does it ever feel that way? I feel like giving up. i can't do it all, i'm only 15.

i have tons and would probably bore you to death naming them. as yu can tell i LOVE Christmas! best time of the year to get together with friends don't ya think?

ok, i'm 15 and may need a jod because of family problems. does any one any places that hire 15 teen year old girls (or any body)?

I chose mine because most the people in my contacts are Christians. if they're not i chose them because i found them to be really nice and because they ask really cool questions.

i'm not old enough to vote but if i could i'd vote for McCain. HANDS DOWN! no affence to those who vote for Obama, but i think his's a liar and a crook. go ahead and yell at me if you won't BUT it's my bias oppinion so DON'T BE MEAN! i'm sure you have yer reasons for hating John McCain.

how many of you are home schoolers? i know i am and i LOVE it!

a few questions to answer are:

1)do like being home schooler?

2)what yer favorite thing about being home schooler?

and

3)what is one thng you hate about being home schooler?

mines Christmas! i also love fall and spring. winter's gorgeous but too cold. i like the in between weather. what's yers?