Map Poem

It stands normal, like every other house on the block
Green and shingled into split- level
Uniformity with wild, landscaped elderberry hedges
Outlined by the dead geraniums, just before where the cornfield begins
Goosebumps consume all by-passers’ arms, but not from today’s forecast
Not from the blamelessly falling snow
On the outside, one may smell only moistened earth
The inside situates much differently than any other split-level
The indoor aromas are unrecognizable
Without a brand; unable to be identified
Hard to be traced; could not be accused of anything
The dinning table looks abandoned against a clean wall
Suspiciously, the tiles shine spotlessly
Half closed shades, yet the porcelain gleams gently without the sun


The stairs creek going above and below floor level, thoughtfully timed by each movement
The garage creates weariness from the dark stains on the floor
Those stains attached to young, innocent screams
Screams that were so piercing, they are now inaudible
Everything seems deceiving upstairs; in a normal, yet dangerous bedroom
For that paper bag still waiting to be tossed, once seeping blood,
remains casually crusted next to a lamp on the nightstand
Sheltering a knife so sharp and precise, that it is threatened by its own blade
This house considered so standard, conceals everything from the ignorant world


Based on novel, The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold.

Stay in Character

Your alarm has been going off for no less than five minutes. The music is beginning to sound like repetitive static, so you squash the feathered pillow harder into your head. You hope this worsens your “head ache”. Or was it stomach ache? Maybe a combination of both will play off as believable.
The night before, you are moping around the house. You made sure to alternate unmanageable coughing with absurd gagging, while adding in a few agonizing moans for the cherry on top of your performance. Your mother knows you too well. She knows everything in fact. But you had to ignore her orders to gargle with warm salt water; for you are risking a lot, and may just have a clear throat by the morning. She keeps reminding you to do so before you fall asleep.
The piercing static shuts off like magic and you roll around under the covers and let out little cries of ache. This has always guaranteed a response from her. She assumes you are way too ill to leave bed. Your dad disagrees, but knows to walk away, still tying his tie. She gazes at your reddened, clammy face and calls you her “poor baby”. This classification has gotten you everywhere, ever since early childhood. It takes you back to presents without holidays and cookies prior to dinner time. She is sometimes too nice.
She fixes the soft blanket, making sure you are fully covered in your princess-like cushioned bed. And calls the attendance office bedside, refusing to leave me alone right now. Too easy to fool. All she wants is to ensure that you are comfortable, in the most comfortable place in your world. That slightest bit of guilt grows and engulfs your mind as she props your pillow. She brushes your hair away from your face, so you can prioritize your itinerary for the day.
You want to sleep. You do sleep. You dream of your breakfast. And ironically, you wake to the tray an arm-stretch- away. She knows you are not sick; however, she makes it her business to cater to you all day.

The Lovely Bones, a novel by Alice Sebold

Even though I am just half way through this novel with plenty pieces of the story yet to uncover; I have already acquired a profound understanding of its theme. I find that the superficial dealings presented by Sebold, about the hardships of teen-age and family life are multifaceted and easy to relate to. With that said, I definitely feel motivated to continue this novel.

However, before any reader advances on to the next page, I firmly recommend that he or she takes into consideration, the dampering effect that this story may initiate. The subject context for this story is heavy, and requires a sturdy disposition by the reader. I have already realized that this novel has altered my innate outlook on life and death. I would have never thought that something so unexplainable, such as death, could qualify as such a legitimate lesson for the living. Thus far, this book is particularly disturbing, yet particularly difficult to put down.

How to Become an Annoying Little Sister

Just know, you were born second of two children. Forget the saying: "third time's a charm"; for the second time must be a full improvement. Live believing that as the truth. Rub it in her face as often as you can. It definitely won't bother her. And when it does get on her nerves... hit the ground as hard as you can handle, no matter what the surface may be. It’s okay if people are staring, they are embracing your over dramatic talent. Exaggerate those cries from pain, you know it actually hurt deep down inside. Before you run to Mommy or Daddy, make sure to pinch, slap and compress the bare skin until the irritation is undeniably red. Rule of thumb: the redder the mark, the crueler the punishment. When she disputes these accusations, fight forth with merciless tears.
Never, ever, ever take NO for an answer. When she shouts “keep out” from her side of the unlocked doorway, she actually means “come in.” So the sneaker she just chucked at you upon your entry is her polite way of saying “welcome.”
Since she does not mind, she is going to leave her diary out for your reading convenience. So if its key is still located at the back of her sock drawer, you will then know that she is hoping for you to go ahead and pick the lock. Do not forget the tormenting “na na na na na na” when you run around the house, firmly gripping her book of top secret confessions. Only threaten to reveal her hidden crush on Billy from math class, which not one soul knows about, in front of her friends. Now that you think about it, why not in front of any company that may happen to be over that afternoon.
Keep in mind that her long, wavy hair is meant to be yanked out by the handful. But always keep yours in a tightly pulled up, formal bun. Remember that any payback she has ever plotted should be revenged with twice the viciousness. Innocently smile with any victory. That will get her worse than anything.
It is in fact a free country, so feel liberal enough to chime in on any of her phone conversations. When you are interrupting a-once-in-a-lifetime chat with the cutest boy in class, Daddy will award you bonus points. Go on her AOL screen name, and indulge. Instant message her whole buddy list, just because you are practicing your typing skills. Nobody is stopping you.
Giggle like the hyena that you are. This surely intensifies the pounding anger in her head. It intensifies billowing smoke coming from both of her ears.
Your overt role is to always play the victim. But when she is feeling nice, play nice back. Maybe even nicer. But try not to exceed five minutes. Your covert role is to love her unconditionally, and more so considering all that you put her through. Your childhood goal is to be that annoying little sister.