Monday, July 2, 2012


‘Tis true my form is something odd,
But blaming me is blaming God;
Could I create myself anew
I would not fail in pleasing you.

If I could reach from pole to pole
Or grasp the ocean with a span,
I would be measured by the soul;
The mind’s the standard of the man.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012


Music by Alan Menken
Lyrics by Jack Feldman
Performed by Jeremy Jordan

They say folks is dyin' to get here. Me, I'm dyin' to get away,
To a little town out west that's spankin' new.
And while I ain't never been there, I can see it clear as day.
If you want, I bet'cha you could see it, too.

Close your eyes, come with me, where it's clean and green and pretty.
And they went and made a city outta clay.
Why, the minute that ya get there, folks'll walk right up and say,
"Welcome home, son, welcome home to Santa Fe!"

Plantin' crops, splittin' rails, swappin' tales around the fire,
'Cept for Sunday when you lie around all day.
Soon your friends are more like family, and they's beggin' you to stay!
Ain't that neat? Livin' sweet in Santa Fe.
Don't you know that we's a family? Would I let you down? No way.
Just hold on, kid, till that train makes Santa Fe.

Thursday, June 14, 2012


Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find, you and I collide

-"Collide" by Howie Day

Monday, May 28, 2012

Writing Letters

Write a letter, be inventive
Tell you everything is fine.
Be attentive to the distance,
Send my love with every line.
Every word should bring you closer
And caress you with its tone.
Nothing should remind you
That I am here alone.

-"Here Alone" from Little Women
  by Jason Howland and Mindi Dickstein

Thursday, May 17, 2012


Music and Lyrics by Malvina Reynolds
Performed by Walk Off The Earth

little boxes on the hillside
little boxes made of ticky tacky
little boxes on the hillside
little boxes all the same

there’s a pink one and a green one
and a blue one and a yellow one
and they’re all made out of ticky tacky
and they all look just the same

and the people in the houses
all went to the university
where they were put in boxes
and they came out all the same

and there’s doctors and lawyers
and business executives
and they’re all made out of ticky tacky
and they all look just the same

and they all play on the golf course
and drink their martinis dry
and they all have pretty children
and the children go to school

and the children go to summer camp
and then to the university
where they are put in boxes
and they come out all the same

and the boys go into business
and marry and raise a family
in boxes made of ticky tacky
and they all look just the same

there’s a pink one and a green one
and a blue one and a yellow one
and they’re all made out of ticky tacky
and they all look just the same.

P. S. Not unrelated--if anyone has an extra cigar box laying around the house, if you're trying to quit or if grandpa left it behind or something, you can generously donate it to me... I'm looking at making a cigar box guitar for myself.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012


Music and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz
Performed by Hunter Parrish

Out of the ruins and rubble,
Out of the smoke,
Out of our night of struggle
Can we see a ray of hope?
One pale thin ray reaching for the day...

We can build a beautiful city.
Yes, we can.  Yes,we can.
We can build a beautiful city.
Not a city of angels,
But we can build a city of man.

We may not reach the ending,
but we can start.
Slowly but surely mending,
brick by brick,
heart by heart.
Now, maybe now,
We start learning how.

We can build a beautiful city.
Yes we can.  Yes, we can.
We can build a beautiful city.
Not a city of angels,
But we can build a city of man.

When your trust is all but shattered.
When your faith is all but killed.
You can give up bitter and battered,
Or you can slowly start to build!

A Beautiful City.
Yes,we can.  Yes,we can.
We can build a beautiful city,
Not a city of angels,
But finally a city of man.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Tale As Old As Time

You know you've got theater in your blood when...

       You have to sing through the words of "Beauty and the Beast" to remember which direction the sun rises from.

...the answer is East.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Book Review: Part 2

Welp kiddos, here's the finished product.  I'll post and let you know what score I get on it.  Let me know your thoughts on my essay.

David Lee
HIST 202
Book Review:  Ordinary Men

War has always been a difficult thing for people to participate in or to handle.  From the strategy involved to the heart-wrenching scenes of children being ripped brutally from the arms of their parents as they gear up and head out to sacrifice their lives for their countries, human conflict has played a major part in the development of human history.  In addition to affecting the world on a larger scale, war affects people on a personal level.  Many a story of “shell-shocked” soldiers have filtered down through the ages and taken hold in the lore of modern warfare.  It turns out that these soldiers were actually afflicted by a condition called PTSD, which is an acronym for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder.  Sometimes people who are afflicted with this condition see horrific hallucinations and flashbacks of their past lives, especially the memories that were formed during the particular war in which their posttraumatic stress disorder developed.  So this is how people are affected on an individual level, although this is not the only way individuals are affected on a personal level; there are many other personal-scale afflictions of war, including feelings of abandonment, loss of money, and the common cold.  No matter what it is that changes people on an individual level, individuals are changed by war by a number of causes.  No matter what, any people who are involved in war will not escape the experience unscathed.  Sometimes these scathes run too deep to heal.  Other times they can be fixed by a simple bandage and the next week the people who were scathed can be getting ice cream with their cute two-year old child who will not experience abandonment issues or PTSD for that matter.  However sometimes the scathes sustained are deeper than just skin and bones; these wounds usually lead to amputation or death.  However there is a third, extremely deeper kind of scathe that may involve amputation or death (these are optional features) but more importantly involves the scathing of the soul.  The soul is a precious resource that is not in as high of supply today and this is because of war.  In the book Ordinary Men, this scathing of the soul is explored in a non-intrusive way so as not to exacerbate the problem.  Basically, based on the first chapter of the book, the book is about the descent of so-called “ordinary men” into the sort of people who have voluntarily scathed others and themselves on several different levels, sometimes involving amputation and usually incorporating death.  This book takes place during the Holocaust but its tone is completely serious.  It’s a good thing that this book has complete respect for the events that happened over in Europe during that time—I don’t think Holocaust jokes are appropriate, Anne Frankly I don’t find them funny either.
         This book is mainly about how some “ordinary men” became less than ordinary because they got into the business of scathing other countries and Jews.  In the very first chapter the book describes how the men of the police battalion were ordered to go kill some Jewish folk in Jozefow, which is a horrible thing that they were asked to do.  It talks about Major Wilhelm Trapp, not to be confused with other World War II Historical figures such as the Von Trapp family, and how he was nervous for his assignment.  The book says: “Pale and nervous, with choking voice and tears in his eyes, Trapp visibly fought to control himself as he spoke.  The battalion, he said plaintively, had to perform a frightfully unpleasant task.  This assignment was not to his liking, indeed it was highly regrettable, but the orders came from the highest authorities.  If it would make their task any easier, the men should remember that in Germany the bombs were falling on women and children.  He then turned to the matter at hand.  The Jews had instigated the American boycott that had damaged Germany, one policeman remembered Trapp saying.  There were Jews in the village of Jozefow who were involved with the partisans, he explained according to two others.  The battalion had now been ordered to round up these Jews.  The male Jews of working age were to be separated and taken to a work camp.  The remaining Jews—the women, children, and elderly—were to be shot on the spot by the battalion.  Having explained what awaited his men, Trapp then made an extraordinary offer;  if any of the older men among them did not feel up to the task that lay before him, he could step out.”  But they didn’t and ended up killing a lot of good Jews.  So that is how this book addresses the topic of regressing humanity within those who are chosen to fight in wartime.  The vignettes like these ones were enjoyable to read sometimes when they weren’t too depressing, so actually only about three of them were enjoyable to read.  Although this was a very serious topic to discuss, it could have been more lighthearted if some comic relief was included to break up the monotony of war.  It is a scientifically proven fact that those soldiers who lived and killed and ate and slept and breathed during the war also had fun sometimes, especially on Christmas.  So if there was a scene in this book involving Christmas, probably that problem would have taken care of itself.
            The style of the information presented says a lot of “according to this man” kind of thing, which makes me think that these conversations are drawn from actual interviews.  Although this means it is a first person account, this also means that in order for these people to feel better about themselves they kind of sugarcoated a lot of stuff in their brains.  It mostly isn’t their fault, because memory can be a fickle thing, especially when you have PTSD (Posttraumatic stress disorder) which a lot of people had from this war, especially from killing Jews and homosexuals.  Seeing the information provided in this harsh and blaring light, one is forced to ask several questions:  Is this information correct?  Do the men have PTSD?  What even qualifies as “scathing” in this instance?  Did it get easier for them?  Are they lying about some of these things?  Who is to say that this war wasn’t a good thing?  Did anything positive come out of these things?  These questions are literally impossible to find answers to, it’s almost pointless to attempt.  However the answers can be found through an examination of the way that these men justified these actions to themselves, their wives, their children, their cousins, and their drinking friends when they got home (a lot of PTSD victims turn to alcohol to satisfy their sorrow).  Perhaps a better solution can be found if we look at
            The way that the book talks about some of the people in this particular battalion of the german community.  The book says:  “others were more cautious and refrained from shooting only when no officer was present and they were among trusted comrades who shared their views.  As Martin Detmold recalled, ‘In small actions it often occurred that Jews whom we had picked up were let go again.  That happened when one was sure that no superior could learn anything of it.  Over time one learned how to evaluate one’s comrades and if one could risk shooting captured Jews contrary to standing orders but rather letting them go.’  The battalion communications staff also claimed that they ignored Jews they encountered in the countryside when they were laying lines on their own.  When shooting at a distance rather than giving a necks hot, at least one policeman merely fired ‘into the air.’ “ That quote pretty much explains itself, in that it talks about the ways that people in this battalion felt about shooting Jews and homosexuals.
Basically, the book is about the descent of so-called “ordinary men” into the sort of people who have voluntarily scathed others and themselves on several different levels, sometimes involving amputation and usually incorporating death based on the first chapter of the book.  It’s really interesting to note that due to the literary references I have provided it is easy to see this conclusion.  Thinking about these issues always provokes thought of the real effect of war and if people ever think of it beforehand when they decide to actually enter into the war.  I sit here at this computer, pondering these questions, searching my un-scathed soul for an answer to the question:  How many wars does it take to get to the center of the human soul?  The answer is most definitely not three, but I’m not sure what it could be, and so it is almost pointless to do anything but keep these things in my heart and listen to them when the tumult of life and politics surges restlessly around me in the future.  One thing is for sure, however, that researching and writing for this paper has had a major influence in my personal life, and I may never see some very general subjects in the same light as when I began this paper that has changed my life.  I can only hope that it has done the same for others, opening up their understanding, possibly helping them to appreciate the book Ordinary Men even more, and to appreciate life, and death, and the scathing of unscathed yet still scatheable things.  I suppose the only thing my generation can do is attempt to look to the future and prevent further mass scathings from happening and make the world a better place by being extraordinary men (and women).

“Ordinary Men”, Christopher R. Browning, HarperCollins, 1992

The Book Review: Part 1

In my college History class it was required of us to turn in something for each of the four writing assignments throughout the semester.  Although by the time we reached the fourth writing assignment I was absolutely and utterly tired of writing about pointless topics, such as they were having us write in my History class, it was required of me to submit something on pain of not getting a grade at all in the class.  I took one look at the syllabus, discovered that this fourth essay was worth 10% of the final grade, and decided that I was okay with a 90% in the class.

Also, I decided that they shouldn't have given me as much freedom as they did with the term something.

This one is supposed to be a book review, of all things to write in a History class, of a book that I read the first chapter of.  I must say that I was incredibly intrigued and excited by the book, until I started reading it.  An abundance of numbers, figures, factoids, and badly written vignettes populated each page and stared up at me with wanton eyes.  So, like the smart college student I am, I closed the book after the first chapter and decided that was good. It was now time to set out on the adventure of writing four pages of drivel on something I hadn't even read.  So I decided to get creative in order to at least give the TAs a good time while reading the paper, and who knows?  Maybe someday they'll use my paper as one of the bad examples.  I would be so proud.

So, here's the outline.  Enticing, no?  It's even more fun to write the actual paper.  Updates coming soon on that.  I'll keep y'all posted.

I.               INTRODUCTION-1 page

a.     Needlessly long introduction that discusses some sort of existential crap
b.     A three-sentence-too-long tie in of said existential crap to actual topic of intro paragraph
c.      Discussion of intro paragraph material, embellished with factoids that are not present in the book in question
d.     Awkward transition into the thesis
e.     THESIS
f.      Runoff sentence—stemming from the thesis
                                               i.     Potential joke (?)
II.             BODY-2 ½ pages
a.     Topic 1
                                               i.     Introduction to topic 1
                                              ii.     Actual discussion of topic 1
                                            iii.     Fanciful, decorative language that extols the reader of the essay to question virtually everything they knew about this book
                                            iv.     Unanswered questions regarding the human condition
                                              v.     Attempt to answer one of the questions
1.     Possible tie-in of actual information from the book?  Might yield extra points
                                            vi.     Semi-resolution of topic 1
b.     Topic 2
                                               i.     Introduction to topic 2
                                              ii.     Clever metaphor involving imagery and hypothetical situations that have little if anything to do with topic 2
                                            iii.     Somewhat untraceable tie-in to topic 2
                                            iv.     More unanswered questions
                                              v.     Melancholy exclamation of the futility of any attempt to answer questions regarding topic 2
                                            vi.     Utterly hopeless attempt to answer questions regarding topic 2 anyway
                                           vii.     Unexpectedly smooth transition into
c.      Topic 3
                                               i.     Introduction to topic 3
                                              ii.     Direct quote from the book to give the appearance that said book has actually been read
                                            iii.     In-depth and completely wrong analysis of direct literary quote from book
                                            iv.     Tie-in to topic 1 to give the impression that this essay is unified
                                              v.     Bathroom break
                                            vi.     Restatement of topic 3 to give a feeling of finality and completeness to this most amazing of paragraphs
III.           CONCLUSION- ½ page
a.     THESIS but with two or three words changed or switched around
b.     Reassuring statement to the reader affirming the effectiveness of this essay
c.      More existential questions, involving me, as the writer, as the primary character who is wondering where life will go from this point forward and how things got to be this way
d.     Brief reflection on how writing this paper has changed my life
e.     Na├»ve yet inspiring statement that I, as the author, hope this paper has changed the lives of those who read and/or edit the paper
f.      And then the music gets hopeful
g.     IT’S OVER!!!

Monday, April 9, 2012


That feeling when you're in love with someone and you want to tell them
But you're scared of what they'll say
And how they'll react
And what they'll do
So you stay silent.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


by David Lee

The best kind of pants
Are ones that make you feel like
You're not wearing pants.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Taking Chances

And then what if you are
What a Prince would envision?
Although how can you know
Who you are till you know
What you want, which you don't?
So then which do you pick:
Where you're safe, out of sight,
And yourself, but where everything's wrong?
Or where everything's right
And you know that you'll never belong?

It's your first big decision,
The choice isn't easy to make.
To arrive at a ball
Is exciting and all-
Once you're there, though, it's scary.
And it's fun to deceive
When you know you can leave,
But you have to be wary.
There's a lot that's at stake,
But you've stalled long enough...

Better run along home
And avoid the collision.
Even though they don't care,
You'll be better of there
Where there's nothing to choose,
So there's nothing to lose.

-"On The Steps Of The Palace" from Into The Woods
  by Stephen Sondheim

Wednesday, March 7, 2012


When you walk through a storm
Keep your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never walk alone.
-"You'll Never Walk Alone," from Carousel
     by Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein II

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Patchwork Soul

"What's all the fuss about goodbyes?  Why's everyone so surprised to see things end?  The strange part of the world--the part that should truly shock us is not the goodbyes... but the hellos.  How on earth do we account for the start of things?"
-Handing Down the Names
     by Steven Dietz

It truly is amazing how we are placed in the exact places we need to be in order to grow.  We begin life untainted and inexperienced, little bundles of potential and promise, reaching out with our soft hands to feel something.  Soon enough we become saturated with the world's words and thoughts, copying the characteristics we see in others.  There is a part inside of us that knows where we have come from and knows where we can go, and yet too often we forget how important that part is.  Fortunately, and not by coincidence, we are brought to others who act as a mirror and remind us of our own light, and before we know it our hearts burn brighter because of them.  Somehow without us knowing, all that we are is laid out and carefully arranged in a grand design that becomes sewn together through the laughter and tears that we share.  This patchwork soul can never be torn or cut apart--it literally becomes a comforter, a sort of quilt you wrap around yourself when the night becomes too cold or when we have nothing else to hold.

Looking back on the best times of my life, it has always been those times when I am surrounded by truly amazing people who make me want to improve the world I was born into.  This includes the people in the picture above, each of whom I have a deep and unique love for, as well as the people who have made me smile, laugh, and want to believe.  It's not easy to give in this world.  In fact, sometimes giving is the scariest thing in the world, especially when what you're giving is yourself.  I've been extremely blessed to be surrounded by people who have accepted and loved me when I've taken a chance with what little I have to give.  I've also been very privileged to have those same people trust me enough to give to me, something that means more than they will ever know.

Life is too valuable to waste keeping it all to yourself.  Beginning new things is terrifying.  But in the end, when we account for the start of things, we will be amazed at what those tiny moments of taking a risk and making a connection have done for us.  When it comes time to start something new, we will already have that old quilt to wrap around ourselves.  Take a deep breath, and begin.


Sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood.
Others may deceive you, you decide what's good.

You move just a finger, say the slightest word
Something's bound to linger, be heard.

Hard to see the light now; just don't let it go.
Things will turn out right now, we can make it so.
Someone is on your side.  No one is alone.

-"No One Is Alone," from Into the Woods
     by Stephen Sondheim

Saturday, March 3, 2012


Mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder, children get older
And I'm getting older too.

-"Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac

Monday, February 27, 2012


by David Lee

God was halfway through a game of Jenga when the telephone rang. Lucifer was calling to complain about the heat again, to ask Him could He please turn it down, because the dials were certainly not down there. While He pretended to send Gabriel to fiddle with the A/C, Man stumbled upon Diety's puzzle game and fell to his knees in wonder. God watched as villages and cities and nations of Man sprung up around this sign from heaven, spreading word of His grace far and wide until all had come to see the marvels He had wrought. God was very annoyed by all of this, of course. There was absolutely no way He could finish His match with the eyes of the world trained there, awaiting His final move.

Monday, February 20, 2012


by David Lee

I am the glue, holding split wood together.
At first I pour over the issue, slipping into cracks and fissures
(Those careless chip-away problems)
And settle, taking my hold on those broken pieces that belong together again.
It isn't long before those pieces forget that I am here
And once again begin to tug apart,
Straining against the weight that they have taken upon themselves.
"More glue!"  They shout.  How can they know
That I could never fix things in the first place,
     Only keep them from flying apart?
I am the glue, holding shattered dreams together,
And I hate it.


It's knowing what they want of me that scares me.
It's knowing, having followed, I must lead.
It's knowing that each person there compares me
To those in my past whom I now succeed,
But how can whatever I do for them now
Be enough?  Be enough?

-"Dance of the Robe," from Aida
    by Elton John and Tim Rice

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Book Review: The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

Rating: 8 out of 10

Warnings:  This book tells it like it is.  If you are uncomfortable with mention or discussion of sex, this book will make you uncomfortable.  However, the prose never describes the actual act and the narrative focuses more on the resulting character development and choices than the actual act.  Also, this book is about a girl who was raped and murdered.  If that premise rubs you the wrong way, you may have a hard time getting into the book knowing that that particular event may be addressed at length.

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold is an intriguingly honest account of Suburban Tragedy and its outcomes.  One of the things that I loved about this book is the statement that it makes through the cleverly objective storytelling:  "Yeah, things happen.  Good things AND bad things.  It's useless to ignore them and it's destructive to dwell on them."  Many of the "secret" aspects of suburban life are pulled out from behind closed doors and presented to us by Susie Salmon, the main character and narrator, a girl who was raped and murdered when she was 14 years old.  As a girl who was just beginning to discover what the world was and how she fit into it, the resulting narration is brilliantly unbiased.  For example, one of the characters is described to have felt stirrings of homosexual feelings (It is a brief paragraph that mentions the fact, and it is referenced two or three more times in the novel) but rather than advocate the acceptability of such urges or condemn the character experiencing these feelings, Susie Salmon simply states that this character feels these things.  This and many other story aspects are left open for the reader to decide how they feel about what is going on.  The story does not paint Susie's suburban community as a neighborhood rampant with immorality and sin, nor does it capture the charming sameness that we all expect from developments where the identical houses are lined up all in a row.  It simply tells of life, how it is, how it happens, and how we deal with it.  Any sort of closure that you might expect from a traditional narrative is flipped on its head in this book in favor for action that would be closer to actual events.  The storytelling is almost cinematic, a quality which is a gift from the narrator, who has the unique position of being in heaven, watching the proceedings.  We see things through Susie's eyes, and so we are able to see things from a bird's eye view as well, often switching between plot threads as quick as a scene might change in a movie.  The end effect is that The Lovely Bones becomes a form of visual poetry in print while being a strikingly frank representation of the author's well-crafted world and characters.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who is open to a new sort of experience with literature.  It does deal with some deeper things, such as the loss of loved ones(living or deceased), the processes of grieving, revenge and reconciliation, and what heaven might be like.  I personally believe that to soar to the highest heights, or at least to appreciate the view up there, we must be able to make it through the rock-bottoms of life.  This applies to literature as well; in order to reach a hopeful ending with all the loose ends tied up to the reader's satisfaction, the piece should explore and build upon those deeper themes that touch the most guarded parts of our soul.  Needless to say, I really enjoyed this book, and I hope you will too.  Happy Reading.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

You Matter

Sometimes when you're least expecting it, the world shows you a glimmer of hope. I was sitting waiting for the bus a few days ago when I saw these two words written in dry-erase marker on the glass of the walls: "You Matter." I'm sure whoever wrote it didn't mean it for me specifically, but I felt like somehow fate had arranged for this message to reach me on a personal level. Later that day the words were gone, which was sad because I think everyone needs to hear that they matter more often than they do. Especially from those who they are close to, who assume they know already.

Today was Valentine's Day, a holiday generally greeted with mixed feelings. I had my own selfish feelings about it, believe you me. But one can only ask one's self why one isn't currently part of a two so many times and still stay sane. Instead, I decided to find another outlet for my love on this day of romance. And then I thought, "Why does it have to be just romantic love? I love plenty of people in a way that doesn't make my heart do triple salchows." There ended my hormonal depression and began a brighter day.

I'm going to quote a truly amazing person, someone I want to grow up to be like someday: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” [Mother Teresa] It doesn't matter what you do, so much as the fact that you actually do something. 'Nuff said.

I know it's kind of a trite subject sometimes and you hear this a lot, but I'm not going to say anything more about it, because I feel that matters of this magnitude should be left simple and stripped of sugar. So here it is: Love everyone, and let them know it.

And if you're reading this, just know that YOU matter. Yeah, you. And don't ever forget it.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Friday, February 10, 2012

an excerpt from "The Hollow Men"

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

--T. S. Eliot

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Some people say it's foolish or stupid to wish on a star or kiss the clock at 11:11.

What's wrong with wishing?  Sure, you might not get what you want.  But hope is a human characteristic.  Without it we wouldn't dream, and without dreams what could we accomplish?  On a more intellectual note, just saying your goals out loud or writing them down cements them in your subconscious, and that part of the mind can do amazing things.

So I'm going to keep wishing, thank you very much.  But I'm not going to stop working for those wishes to come true.

Monday, February 6, 2012

When You Turn Off The Light

Small as a peanut,
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light.

Rich as a sultan,
Poor as a mite,
We're all worth the same
When we turn off the light.

Red, black or orange
Yellow or white,
We all look the same
When we turn off the light.

So maybe the way
To make everything right
Is for God to just reach out
And turn off the light!

-- Shel Silverstein


by David Lee

The numbers count backwards from ten to one
The silver doors whoosh apart.
If it is empty, I can dance a bit
And press all the buttons, and say naughty words
And speak to God, and fart, and smile for no reason.
If someone is in it, I take my place,
A quiet smile assuring the other passenger
That I do not smell anything funny,
And that I don’t mind that all the buttons are pushed,
And that I don’t like to dance.
But how free it would feel to speak to God with a stranger
As we climb the floors, one by one.

Comments I received from my Professor:
(line 2) I can just hear that.
(lines 4-5) very human.
(line 11) is free the best word choice?
(lines 11-12) very nice ending.

Total points:  95/100



This step is once again our first...
We set our feet upon a virgin land.
We hold the promise of the earth
In our hands.

-"In The Beginning," from Children of Eden
     by Stephen Schwartz