Sixth Task: Child Prodigy

Imagine being a child prodigy who is not understood by people around you. You long for friendship and a normal life. Write a poem describing your life. Insert the title of your poem.

I had tried open ended ryhme for this poem. It did not work so well. Then I tried to rhyme with a,a,a ending, to have a rule to work with, it did not work so well either. It was too rhymy, to happy for a dark poem.



Final Version

He looked down window,
the garden all set and aglow.
people moving in and out,
mingling with delight.

He felt out of place,
longing for an embrace,
mustering courage to descend the staircase.

polite akward conversation would arise,
them wearing a disguise,
he acting likewise.

Some would try to theorise,
Some would try to give him candies.

He was naught but a child,
exiled,
all because of he was wiser than all compiled.


Attempt 1.
Darkness prevails my soul.
My intelligence,my cage,

I often sit alone,
contemplating the world.

My governess calls me in,
my mother wants a word.

I go in,
hoping that she wants to speak a word of kindness or ask me to play.

Alas, it is not so.
She hopes I would go to the university soon.


After all, at age of 10,
I am already quite late in graduating.

Attempt 2

Sitting alone in the darkness,
Shocked my mother's bluntness.
She had told me
Father's away again on business.
The world around me filled with strangeness,
A world I would love to explore,
But the things that holds me back is my shyness.

Week 11: Activity (Part 2)

Part 1: In Class
Imagine the picture is a postcard. Imagine sending this picture to someone. It can be anyone living, dead or imaginary. What kind of poem would you write on the back? How would it look/sound like? Write it down.

Yo, man!

The club is the hype tonight!

I am showing my moves to the crowd.

As they cheer and scream.

I countinue my sway,

A sudden thought came into my mind,

and i suddenly wished you were here, clubbing,

knowing you could never beat me,

with your chicken dance moves!

Part 2: Blog
Imagine receiving this card - form a person who is living, dead or imaginary. What kind of poem would they write on the back? How would it look sound like? Write it down.

Love,

It's one of those saturday nights,

I'm wearing my favourite white pants.

Spending time with family.

food, fun, music , couples dancing,

a sudden thought of joining in.

How can you accuse me of dancing with a pretty young thing?

for, love, never fear,

I could never replace you.

I sway to the music, dancing,

Imagining you, my love, right here in front of me.

I smile, and keep on dancing.

Fifth Task: Last Tree

The last standing tree on the earth

Short narration - on the p.o.v of the tree (about one A4 page/500 words)

• Describe the experience


• First person narration

I woke up feeling the sun was shining down on the glass sphere, rays of lights danced in my orb, warming me out of my deep slumber. I sighed, silently wishing I could feel the rays without it being screen by the glass. I wonder what my ancestors would say, if they say me, the last tree on earth, inside a pretty glass cage, fed with fertilizers to keep me alive.

The glass orb was designed specially to keep me save from temperature changes and other threats to my security. The orb also regulates special air containing a high rate of oxygen, to make it easier for me to photosynthesize. Several veins of liquid containing artificial minerals were stuck within my roots. Humans were doing all they can to save me. They are trying to keep as far away from the environment as they can! They have long forgotten that I am the environment.

It was trees who generated oxygen for the humans. It was trees that helped to control the temperature of the world. It was the trees that provided humans shelter. I find it funny now, to see humans giving me oxygen, regulating the temperature for me, a tree.
The humans are worrying now. I am the last tree. They have been trying to save a lot of trees before me and they have failed. The pollution had slowly killed my kind, and by the humans notice, it was too late to try and save us.

Oh, the pollution has been hard for the humans too. A lot of the humans died when the temperature grew too hot and there was barely any oxygen in the air. But humans are survivors. They have been surviving for a long time. Even now, in the harsh polluted environment, they survive. They have equipped their houses with its own private ecosystem. When they go out, they wear protective clothes that are 'intelligent' keeping the temperature in the safe level and producing oxygen for them. And in the climate where no animals or trees can survive, they started producing chemically processed food as their staple food.

It pains me that I have never seen my ancestors. I was planted as a seed in a lab, without no knowledge of what I was or what I was supposed to become. I had no knowledge on how I should be a tree. Was I supposed to run around the cage like the mice I usually saw in the lab? Or was I supposed to stand still and not move at all like the table I was experimented on? My first view of a tree had been on the day they exhibited me to the world. I saw my ancestors on a television screen. I would spend hours watching the screen, mesmerised. Oh, how majestically they stood. How powerful they looked. This was how, I learned a bit about my ancestors and about myself.

I had been a sickly tree then, having no proper knowledge of photosynthesis. But when I saw a documentary about trees, I also learned about how I was supposed to eat and grow. I have grown magnificently since then, and the humans have rejoiced.

Now they spend the time trying to make me to produce seeds. Yes, I am the last tree on earth and I cannot produce seeds. I try and try but it is not possible. I think the nature of trees has changed. The end is near. I know it. Before, I spent the time wondering how I can save the world. I,now, spend the time wondering who will go first, the humans or me.

Week 9:Activity 2: Monologue: Feeling trapped

write a 300 word scene in which a character feels trapped in his or her surroundings with no immediate prospect for escape. For example the setting might be, a boarding school, a package holiday, a wedding at a relative's house a hated job which is a financial necessity. Show the feelings through the description of the places, not by naming the feelings.

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I walked into the ballroom, lifting up my dress a bit, making my walk alot easier as it lessened the risk of me tripping over the intricately crafted long hem. The dress was beautiful, but the cloth felt like it was made out of burlap. It was itchy and stuffy, and I felt pretty sure that the dress was not made for someone to move around in it. Especially not for someone who needed to move fast enough to avoid making small talk with everyone, AND try desperately to search for a place to rest her tired feet. An aunt was in my way, her mouth already open, ready to let me in the latest gossip. I avoided eye contact, backtracked, and went along another path. I continued my quest of finding my designated chair , hoping to finally sit, and relieve my aching feet, and maybe have a bite to eat. Oh, why did mom force me to wear these 3 inch heels? I'm sure my dress would have looked just as lovely with my flats. Not that anyone can even see my shoes underneath all these cloth.

I finally found my seat after having to stop, at least a dozen times, to exchange niceties with people I do not even remember. I sat down with some difficulty as the dress was tight and it tighten even more, threatening to burst at the seam. I relented, sucked in my breath and sat. Funny, when you come to think of it, the dress is not made for someone to sit around in it too. I promptly squeezed out of the heels as nobody would notice my naked feet underneath the table.Ah, it felt like heaven for my feet. But now my lungs are starting to burn as I can't draw in any breath, afraid that the dress would rip. I sighed, disappointed at society's way of ruling how a woman should look. All primmed up, wearing tight corsets and high heels.

I shifted my attention to the ballroom. One wall was lined with tall, looming windows with views of the gardens which looked darker than usual and filled with shadows. The chandelier was beautiful, oh yes, imported from a top antique dealer in Paris why would it be anything less than beautiful? But, the crystals of the chandelier seemed to be arranged the sharp points down, as if to make sure that should anyone be unlucky enough to walk beneath it, AND to have it fall down on the person, the injuries from the crash would at prove to be fatal, or at least cause a few months of comatose. There were flowers neatly arranged on each of the tables as well as along the corridors. The flowers were all natural from the forest, a request from the bride, as much as I loath to agree that the flowers did look fetching, I was pretty sure they were crawling with insects. Urgh.

The bride was all atwitter wearing her custom made silk dress, complete with an elegant white cap. Ironic though, I do not think this bride should have been wearing white at all. As I heard the wedding was moved to an earlier date, as something else was late. I looked at the groom. He did not seem like he was a first choice of the bride as he resembled nothing like the bride's previous conquests. Looks like the groom was her last resort. I wonder if the groom knows what he is signing up for.

Ah, looks like it's time for the bride and groom to leave for their honeymoon. I stood up with the rest of the crowd, smiled, and clapped.

---------------------------------------------------
I made a poem before I realised we were supposed to make an essay. I kinda liked it though, so here it is -


The bride all atwitter with her white silk dress, complete with a whitecap,
Me, sitting idly, trying not to wrinkle my dress of burlap,
thinking that the groom,since the bride is in her 30's,is most probably stopgap.

watching the bridesmaids, flocking around the bestman, trying to entrap.
watching the bride's mother with a cat in her lap,

siting and wishing there would occur some mishap,
maybe somebody would soon be victim to kidnap,

sitting and staring at the table trying to make a secret exit map,
realising everybody's looking like they are about to snap,

sitting and flipping my gloves repetitively against my kneecap,
hoping somebody would stop the classical music and put on some rap.

hoping everybody would soon stop their yap,
feeling like giving out a few slaps,
straining to control myself, as the best man,my friend, is a good chap.

hoping to get out of here asap,
but stopping to smile and clap.

Fourth Task: My Favourite Fictional Character

Fourth journal entry - My favourite Fictional Character

I decided to give a full account of my favourite fictional character's life -Darren Shan - through a letter he wrote for his sister Anne, explaining where he has been since he disappeared a long time ago.

Dear Anne,

I am writing this letter to update you on where I have been doing for the past years. I was blackmailed into being blooded into a half-vampire by Mr. Crepsley (a vampire performing in The Cirque Du Freak) after stealing his performing spider, Madam Octa.
She bit my best friend, Steve, and Mr. Crepsley blooded me in return for the antidote. I saved Steve (but Steve swore to become a vampire hunter, because he believes I betrayed him), faked my own death, and became Mr. Crepsley's assistant.

I initially hated Mr. Crepsley for making me flee my home. Eventually though, I learned to like Vampires, and I do not hate Mr. Crepsley any more. After going to Vampire Mountain, going through the trials and becoming a Prince, I become one of the Vampaneze Lord (vampire's enemies) Hunters.

In the end I had to face Steve in battle and we both mortally wound each other, both dying shortly after. I was brought back by Mr. Tiny as a Little Person. I was sent back in time and saw my younger self at the Cirque with Steve.

I scared myself off so that I does not see Steve and Crepsley, cutting off the original chain of events that made me a Vampire. I then gave my diary entries to Mr. Tall, letting my old human self live on, hopefully leading a normal life where I hope my adult self will publish my diary one day, when Mr. Tall presents him with it. After this, my temporary body will unravel and I will die.

You know what, Anne? I do not think I will send this letter you. Sometimes, Ignorance is,indeed, Bliss!

Love,
Darren


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I love the character because he is able to handle anything. He is determined, loyal and funny. He goes through a lot in the whole series of the books - The saga of darren shan. Although I read the books a long time ago, this character is still embedded in my mind as I admire his strength and his ability to survive anything. All through the books he encounters - vampires, dragons, little persons, giant human faced slugs, is transported to an post apocalyptic world, and finds out his arch enemy is his half brother. Yet, he still trudges on, taking one problem at a time.