Creative Writing Pot-Luck by Jenny Hubbert

We sat in the classroom
exchanging cookies and chips
exchanging tiny stories
exchanging glances
of love and humour
changing from anxious to happy
in 30 seconds as Ashton spoke of emo Abigail.

The Letter by Jenny Hubbert

You told me if you were to commit suicide you would stick your head out the window while driving and smash it into a mailbox. I pictured a watermelon thrown against a wall when you said this. I woke up today and had no mail. I wonder if I ever will again.

There You Are by Mitchell Leger

Everyone tells me I shouldn’t be near you. I know this too, but I just can’t. You take my pain away. You make me forget. I go home there you are, I go to school there you are, I go talk to my friends and they brought you with them. I was digging through my book bag, and there you were. I unscrewed your top and took two more pills. Thank you for being there

Life of a Stray Cat by Leanne Phillips

There once was a stray cat who lived wherever it could find shelter. The cat would eat when it could find food, but that dd not happen often. During the winter months the cat had a hard time finding  a place t stay warm and away from the cold s now. One cold snowy night th cat was looking for a place to stay when it found a deck. Under the deck there was no snow but on the side there was. The cat crawled in and curled up in the middle, it was nice and warm but the cat could not concentrate because was so hungry. Instead of going to find food the cat stayed where it was and went to sleep.The next morning the cat woke up and found a bowl of food where the cat entered to go under the deck.The cat went over to it  and when it started to eat, something fell on to the cat and everything went dark. A few moments later the cat felt itself being lifted off the ground and brought into a really warm place and then the dark thing was removed. The cat noticed it was in a building and there was a bed with food and water. The cat went and ate the food and went to sleep on its warm bed. After that day the cat never went cold or hungry again.

Counting Stars by Jamie Card

The tiny girl lay, gazing up at the dark ink stained sky.
She watched as satellites moved through space.
The earth beneath her slowly spun without notice.
The surrounding lives quickly passed everyone by.
All the while, laying in the dark green oasis,
She was counting the stars.

Me, My ship, and I by Ashton Thorne

I don't feel so lonely anymore
The hurt has risen and floated away
Strong headed, I didn't let you in
You couldn't break me down

The sea has stopped rushing over me
It has dried up for now
I wish it would stay away forever
But there will always be a storm

I've treid to fight it off
Here on my ship of no crew
There is no men to go over board
Just me to take care of

Once in awhile, every so often
A visitor will come aboard
Usually someone I could learn to admire
But they never end up staying long

My ship has seen many mates
yet, there is only one who stays true
Why that would be the captain of course
Always just the ship and I, fighting through every storm

Goodbye by Ashton Thorne

 How would you feel if someone told you goodbye? What if this someone was your bestfriend for four years? Would you feel hurt if they told you that your the girl they'd do anything for and they've always loved you; but now they're saying goodbye. I can answer all of those questions and tell you that I felt sad and yes I felt hurt. i can tell you that losing my best friend Denver, it killed me inside. We had fought before and we'd got over it; it was different this that time. It's as if we'd been fighting a war for an entire month; there was a constant battle at the front with no breathing room. I knew how it all would end and I remember wishing I was wrong. There would be no victory as we had both fiven up and would much rather the silence.
     I met Denver my first year at East Valley High. He was in my english class and we hit it off right away. We hit it off so well that we ended up dating for a few months. The break up wasn't terrible at all if anything it was for the best as we only grew closer afterwords. Over our next years at high school we managed to create the best friendship anyone could ask for; we had become each others family. We both went through hard times and always overcame it with each others help. I wish that strong bond we had, held on forever.
     During our graduating year, Denver became very depressed. He wasn't living at home, he hung out with the wrong crowd, and the drug problem only got worse. He began to push me away but I fought hard to keep myself in. I spent many nights in tears wishing I could help him' he was my bestfriend, and I felt his hurt.
     No matter how hard I treid and reminded him of the past he continued fighting harder against me. He fought me until it came to a point where I was forced to surrender and he had done the same. There was a barrier between us that was much to strong for me to take down. A few days after, he wrote me a letter filled with words creating his "final goodbye" to me, as he called it. He signed the letter and wrote "p.s. you'll always be my number one girl."
    I never forgot the day I read it and I never got rid of it either. Here I am today, three years later with the letter clutched in my hand, standing before a headstone labelled "Denver Howe. Beloved brother and son." Standing next to me was his mother; she grabbed my hand, turned to me and said "You were his only regret in life, he told me saying goodbye was the biggest mistake he ever made." I smiled at her as a tear started form in the corner of my eye; i looked at the letter. I placed it beside the headstone. My final words whispered in the wind as I walked away, "I forgive you. Goodbye."

Insanely sleepy 5 A.M. poetry written while feeling kindasorta rebellious against myself by Jordan Trenholm

Look, I’m a sleepy little lad with poetry to write,
No mind for measured rhythm or rhyme,
I’ll do this quick, while I’m awake,
Before I’m out of -STOP-

I was about to type a word
That would complete the rhyme.
I shan’t, I can’t, I ought not write the word;
I need to break my mould.

This may be worthless verse, a Fail,
A step backwards in poetry,
But I want my verse to be mine
And unconfined by rules, just me!

For all I need is beat by which
To set my words and speak my mind.
My “stress, un-stress” to guide my thoughts
Into cohesive lines.

What Should I Write by Stephanie Keller

What should I write by Stephanie Keller
I've had this assignment for days. Write about anything I want. Well, that's pretty vague.

I could write a Haiku about the weather?

Snow everywhere
It makes me very upset
I want to hide away

I could also write a Cinquain.

Snow
Its gross
It falls down
It makes me cry
Snow

Or I could even write a name poem.

Snow floats from the sky
Numbing peoples hands and toes
Outside it's minus twenty
With the wind chill its minus 30

However, none of that sounds entertaining.

What should I right?

Time is Ticking by Anonymous

Seconds. Seconds, minutes, hours, days.
Days. Days, months, years.
Years. Centuries. A lifetime.
Time is endless, is it not? We always have time to change. Time to die. Time to live. Death is waiting. The afterlife is waiting. Waiting all this time - just for you. But is it really only for you? I think not. It's for everyone. Everyone has the same fate in the end; rich or poor, famous or unknown. It's all the same. So is time really that endless? Like everything, it has a beginning, and we are 'told' it has an end. But who says? Who decided time just stops? Now, think, did it ever begin either? The big bang theory states it did, but what was going on in space during this time? How can you be so sure of yourself? The universe is endless. There is that word again; endless. What's it's true meaning? How can we be certain anymore?
Think back. What do you believe? If you were to ask me, I would have no true answer, only to speculate the meaning, or, 'true' meaning of time being endless, and why our thoughts have now been modified and morphed into only believing one thing. Think. Do you honestly believe that at first there was nothing, then suddenly everything? I know we all think differently, but I personally can not sit here and believe such a thing. 

Fashin Photography by Sara Pooley

Fashion Photography
symmetry of a body
porcelain for skin
expressions so enchanting
or completely unhinged
legs so long and dainty
dresses made of clouds
a model for posing
the most exquisite angles
an artist for sewing the most intricate dress
a lens man for capturing
the most magical moment
a second of beauty
to hold in your hands

Final Thoughts by Mitchell Leger

I reached for the pill bottle bottle and pulled away immediately. I didn’t want to go on. The constant reminder I get every time someone hugs me, or looks at me and loses their smile. As if somehow their hug will me forget the accident. Everyone but Jacqueline does this. Jacqueline still talks to like I’m a person. She treats me the same way she did before. That’s why I can’t hurt her, I can’t hurt the only person I love. I reached for the pills one final time. I looked at the empty container and was filled with regret.  I closed my eyes as my final thoughts drifted away. “I’m sorry Jacqueline, I’m sorry....”.

Bug by Leanne Phillips

The little bug crawled on the floor. So small and so  defenceless. How could  it be that an animal so small can cause such fright in people? The bug crawls around exploring and observing its surroundings. The bug spots a human and tries to move its tiny feet as fast as it can. Hoping that it can find a place so it can be safe from the human, but the bug is out of luck.The human shrieks and grabs a shoe and walks over to the bug. The bug sees the shoe go up and knows his short life is coming to an end. The shoe hits him. The bug feels the pain that goes through its body and it is unbearable. The bug can only just lie there, defenseless, wishing that the human could have game him a chance to live his life the way it should have been.But the bug knows it is too late. The shoe strikes again  and this time the bug is not left to suffer another second.

Simplicity by Samantha Rochlow

Let’s go back to the days where everything was a whole lot better. When girls built up forts to keep the boys out and made it clear with the “no boys allowed” signs. I want to back to when getting hurt only happened when you fell off your bike and you never underestimated the fact that you can do anything you set your mind to.  I wish we could go back and start over again with the knowledge we have now and make sure that our hearts stay in one piece and our esteem as high as ever. The simplicity of when every one got along, and high school was something to look forward to, not knowing that it would break your friends apart and make you dislike half of the people in the school. When you used to compliment people without having to lie because you want yourself to feel better. I want to go back to the time where you hoped of love and didn’t know the feeling of heartbreak. The days when you would smile and have no idea why, but nothing could go wrong. The simple days.

Excerpt from a novel by Kate Maguire

She sat in the car, staring out the front window, seeing nothing. The hot air was blowing giving her face and throat and strange sensation. In an odd action that she did not even herself understand she pressed only her fingertips to the window next to her. The cold was shocking though you would not have been able to tell from her face. Lost in a deep though that somehow seemed not to be a thought at all, she sat, hand raised to meet the window, in complete silence. She could not explain the reason for this strange reflective mood she had suddenly adopted but none the less it was as present as anything else in the world, though invisible to all others around. No other person seemed able to understand her recently. Though nothing in her actions or words were out of character she seemed to think that no one in her life fully understood her as they once did. Or did they ever? Was it all just a fabrication? Or were there people in her life that understood her as plainly as a scholar would understand a text.
She did not have the answers to these questions, though she wished desperately that she did. So, with no other way of voicing these thoughts or feelings she remained as she was, unmoving, pensive, fingers still pressed to the window.

A WInter's Day in February

The sun sits high in the saffron sky.
While blankets of vanilla surround the homes,
Like bees; collecting honey from their combs.
'Tis not the season of sandy beaches and apple pie.
A hand graces the surface of this mystical entity.
Cold breaks the feeling of my hand,
As it slowly melts and turns to water to expand.
There is no question on its identity
A look down the snow covered street, children are at play.
With sleds and rides, down the frosty hills is their way.
A couple walk along a path, bundled and glued to one another,
Thoughts of love and life, their hearts are a-flutter.
As the sun begins to set, life escapes the fading day.
Streetlights flash on, darkness enters its daily place.
With the leaving light, no one is left around to stray,
The power of snow, it's ability to erase.

Gambling by Shelby Sewell

Gambling
He sat in the same spot every night when he was off duty. He sat there until his
mind was numb enough from the liquor not to remember the past or the fact that he went
home to an empty house. The bar tender watched with pity as the bitter cop drank away
his sorrows. She remembered when he used to come here with Jackie, they were always
so happy. But he had a gambling problem and they ran out of money she decided to go to
war. She went missing on her first tour, maybe if he hadn’t gambled, she wouldn’t have
either.

Moment We Click by Rebecca Mullin-Lawlor

Moment We Click

Locked into a minute in time
Standing in a moment so simple
Heartbeats, the only noise to be heard
Passion
Content beyond belief
Feeling so, connected
Lost in what can only be, heaven
Bliss
Relaxed to the point you're floating
So comfortable you could sleep
Warmed by the affection beside you
Love
Staring into the world itself
Viewing true perfection
Feeling nothing but peace
Beauty

David's Mask by Alicia Bannister

David sauntered through the halls wearing his mask with uncertainty today. Several
weeks of humiliation built up inside, that he took like a gentlemen, you were to believe nothing
ever fazed him. He continued down the hall deepening his hands in his pocket glancing at all the
stares.
“Hey Dave, see any cute guys lately?” One of the popular groupies yelled. David let out a
weak laugh, and continued on his walk to the cafeteria. Something was different with David.
“Davie look it’s Matt…” David turned around swiftly all eyes on him.
“Leave… me….alone!” He yelled each word with heavy precision, and darted off.
Everyone stood there dumbstruck; this was not the David they knew. Kate ran after him,
she soon found him slumped up against the old, cracked wall of Randal High.
“Everyday I arrive on the bus then put on my mask of happiness. No one suspects a
thing. Day by day I am humiliated by friends and students, but act as if it doesn’t hurt. One time
I wish I could go unhumiliated, a day without the mask. A day as David Hansen.” He began, as
the tears started to flow.

Observe by Rachel Norman

Observe
Past as far as the eye can see
Beyond the hills
And Sea
Past the withering vines
Cast here and there
Where he lies,
In great dispare
Where he cries
Begs
And Pleads
But can anyone here him?
Way Out There?

Apple Blood by Jenny Hubbert

Apple Blood

I picked one off the tree
changing hands
it duplicated
One in each palm
and more
and more
They piled up
Red, hard and sweet

Falling down
Spraying delicious juice
into the mouths
of hungry little darlings

I placed you inbetween my hands
palms raised
and I trapped you
In the cage between them
Tall and narrow
You did not know you were trapped
but felt like you couldn't escape

You collect windchimes in your room
I blow upwards
and they tinkle and jingle
Silver and seaglass
High, silvery and bright

You burst through my safety cage
between my hands
going to the tree
picking the apples
only you were not allowed
and so the branches scrape you
and they cut you

Now you are bleeding gallons of blood
making a sea on the floor
It-like acid-spreads and melts
I have no choice but to leave
you, my pile of apples
and the windchimes
I must not be eaten up
by acid infused blood

Welcome

Welcome to Trimble Writes. This is a space for the creative musings of students in Creative Writing 110 with Mr. MacGillivray. Hope you enjoy.