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(Write a story that begins with someone's popsicle melting.)



August is sometimes just a bitch! My mother is forever saying, “Can’t you find something to do?”  “You hang around the house too much, reading comics or doing those stupid video games!”    


I nod knowing if I don’t respond she will eventually wind down and shut up. She is rummaging around in the refrigerator and freezer looking for stuff to make for dinner. Finally she stuffs a popsicle in my hand and tells me to take the messy thing outside.  


“Breathe some fresh air for a change!” she yells.


That’s the kind of life you have to look forward to when you are a fifteen year old kid. Too young to drive, too old to play in the dirt.  


I’m trying to manage to eat the popsicle before it falls off the stick. Bees are beginning to find me and the popsicle interesting.  


~~~~~


I was thinking just last night about how unlucky I am to have a second floor bedroom in an old farm house with no air conditioning and small windows! Like being roasted alive! Yep! Typical of my luck! Almost always bad.  


Laying on my bed in just my underwear, I was trying to imagine time at the lake, or the week we spent skiing in the mountains, anything cold or cool or at least cooler.


My folder for high school was spread around on my bed and I was wondering who the heck made the stupid looking thing. Big splashy colors, wild mismatched fonts, did they think we were all so dysfunctional that we needed weird shit to get our attention?


GET A JUMPSTART ON YOUR FRESHMAN YEAR!   

BE IN THE KNOW, REVIEW YOUR OPTIONS NOW!   

BE PREPARED TO LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF FRESHMAN YEAR!


It is nice that they listed all available classes and a synopsis of content and expectations. Well you can stuff Chemistry and that crap! Show me the English and literature classes. I want to learn about language! I want to write speeches for big powerful and important politicians. I want to write stories or the scripts for movies.  


~~~~~


Going inside to wash the sticky off my hands, my mother grumbles at me to please find a place to light. Find a place and sit there awhile, don’t hang around the kitchen while she is busy with mealtime.


I grab my Freshman folder and head back outside. Shade. And breeze. Not too bad. Ok so let’s see this poetry listing again.


Hmm? POETRY AS A FORM OF EXPRESSION!  


I don’t know much about poetry but I remember last year being surprised it was more than Moon and June and Tune and endless rhyming words. Striking across that listing with a fluorescent yellow marker I think, it is a definite possibility.   


Free Verse, Sonnets, Blank verse, Haiku…


Haiku? What the heck is haiku?   


“Speak to me Mr. Google, what is Haiku?”


Traditionally, haiku poems are three-line stanzas with a 5/7/5 syllable count. This form of poetry also focuses on the beauty and simplicity found in nature.


Well it sounded interesting...the best part, only three lines. That should be doable!


Let’s see. Subject? While I sit there trying to think, I’m watching a trail of ants trying to carry off a popsicle stick. Pretty funny! Why? I have no idea, the good part was already gone!


~~~~~


Words are filling my brain and my fingers are counting syllables, I try a few times before things begin to gel.



HAIKU? HAIKU?  HAIKU?  HAIKU?


     Popsicle 


Dripping and sticky

Cold and sweet a purple treat

My grape popsicle!


(Well not an award winner but it met some of the criteria.)



     Heat Wave


Highway pavements buckle

Sandy beaches overflow 

Time again for snow?


(Man I love the thought of snow, except in the winter unless I’m skiing!)



          Solitude


Night, devoid of light

Crickets, owls, a distant train,

Lonely sounds, sleep again.


(Hmm? Kind of like that one, well a little bit anyway!)



     First Light


Dawn dew damp silence

Mourning doves coo out of sight

Stretch yawn , goodbye night!


(I think I’m getting the hang of this.)  


       Death


Heart stops breath is gone

Burning hot to ash then gone

Wind blows, free at last!


~~~~~


Read on my good man, tell me more about this poetry class.  


Blank Verse.  


Hello again Mr. Google.  


Blank Verse. Written in iambic pentameter and nothing rhymes! What? What is iambic whatever?   


Quickly getting tired of this subject my attention shifts again to the ants. The ants have given up on the popsicle stick when it got wedged along the pavement. All of the good stuff had melted off anyway!  


Freshman year won’t be like the ants, just walking away if I don’t like a class or teacher so this will require a strategy.


I wish I had an older brother or sister to clue me in on the teachers! Good ones, bad ones, hopeless ones, sticklers and unhappy spinsters taking it all out on the students. Just reading about the class content was only half the battle.  


Taking out my cell phone I look for the group listing for my special friends.


My fingers fly over the keys as I text….”Anyone looking at the English and literature classes for this coming year?” “Shoot me back your thoughts!” I Wait with bated breath!” “Let’s talk!” “Your house if you have A/C!”


Maybe someone in the group knows about the teachers or classes, many of his friends have older siblings, they would be a great source for “ in the know “ info!


~~~~~


In the distance the rumble of thunder, to the west clouds are moving in and I can only hope that means a break in the heat wave! The screen door bangs open and my Mom is yelling about getting the West windows closed before the storm arrives.  


Yes sometimes August is a real bitch!


He laughs a bit as his mind formulates yet another haiku..


    August


Hot humid steamy

See the ripples of heat rise

Summer, no surprise!


(This one fits this day but it doesn’t feel like it flows! But I just learned what a haiku was today.)


Charging up the stairs to close the bedroom windows the heat is almost suffocating! One can only hope there is cooler weather behind the storm. Open the house again and blow out the heat before bedtime! Now he laughs to himself, one more for the road!


      Blow Wind Blow!


The weather Gods fight

Thunder rolls and blinding light

Cool sleeping, delight!


July 31, 2020 20:51

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4 comments

P. Jean
02:46 Sep 18, 2020

Many just like stories. I hope they really read them before liking! I hope you do! Thank you for the likes!

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00:50 Aug 15, 2020

Well written. And haiku is my favourite piece of art. Thanks :)

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P. Jean
00:55 Aug 15, 2020

Thank you Katarina but the haiku was not Meant to be the best. Just the early attempts of a teenage boy. Thanks for reading and your time and thoughts to comment!

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Syeda Fatima
15:14 Aug 12, 2020

well written, poofa!

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