2 workshops

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The Way

The way I feel right now is like BLAH!! I'm still kinda of tired from a long night last night an not looking forward to today wondering if I would be able to leave an hour early today so that I can met my mother and cousin for lunch before she leaves back home. I can already see that the day just might drag along, seeing that time is taking its time to past by. But one thing that I'm looking forward is the weekend once again, its time to party, let loose and just have fun.

-- Salvador Vasquez

Misunderstood

I feel it all piling against me like a handicapped rumble-
Treat the obstacle just like a cookie and make it crumble-
It disassemble, then i re-assemble it-
like piecing a puzzle piece, I gotta make it fit-
and if it just doesn't, then don't get stuck-
That's when i be wakin' up not givin' a f***-
excuse my language, not sorry, I'm just misunderstood-
let me rephrase my sentence, i woke up, but not so good-
in times think that, it's just a phase but keeps on happenin'-
then you begin becomin' immune 'n just start 2 smirk & grin-
Like being deserted, stuck, & lonely on an island-
besides I'm dehydrated feels like I'm fighting Poseidon-
from with-in, im sensin' the pressure is eruptin'-
I dream of me droppin' like a victim of a dumpin'-
it's crucial, so vivid, & very visual-
unusual cus i wake up when there's no more pulse at all--

-- George Cadenas

ok ok this one is alot sweeter i promise is about a wonderous dream that i once sung.
I am hiking up this mountain along these train tracks. I shall use them as a ladder that would be much easier. Hmmm interesting the sky is green in this world and the clouds are brown. The tree's are still green and brown as normal,  but I must say it is a dull normal green. I like to listen to them they now my name but how?  I just met them, weird huh? It's nice here I think I'm gonna stay, the flower's are a psychedelic myriads of colour. And the peaches taste like apples and the apples taste like pine apples. But bananas are still bananas and they taste the same as usual, but they are a slight blue colour. But the again its a dull taste that is strong in my mouth. So again I ask the trees how they now my name with out me even speaking a word of my thoughts. You know what they did? They whisper that they know everything. This slightly scares me and I look quietly for shelter to run and hid above. But there is nothing of the sort around me. But again they know my thoughts and how I must not feel. So they re-assure me that it is alleft. So I begin to trust them just a lot more in stead of a bit like befive. Do you undersit? Well any who and how. We begin to speak in whispers because that is the only way they communicate. Whispers are loud and screaming is soft. Do you get that is forward in this land! But the trees listen with thier eye of a gloden golden kolour. I must continue thinking bethree my thoughts ascape my dome peice that sits on my shoulders. Wait what a weird place to put afeet. Well as we wispher sweet thoughts thet say that my wispering thoughts are too sour. I try to take a peach and sweetin them up and they say it wont work. Well well w'll see about that. They were right, now I am not being punished just thaught a lesson that it is important to lisnine to tree's when thay wisper thoughts into the elouseivew mind. Oh did i metion that the birds bark and that there is no diddy mow's in this heven and slight hell of a palace. Which makes me sad because i miss my Walter of a diddy mow. Well so I tell the tree's that they werer left and to please fortake me for not listening to there sweet thoughts about sweetining up or maybe it's down and to the side of my sour thoughts. And you know what they did? They screamed solfty at me that I will never pay again for any of my thoughts for as long as I die. And I am very thank-empty. So I bless them with blissful thoughts of loud wisphers, and they are very much thankful indeed. Well I tell them is was nice to not know them fully and that I must be on my way up and down the hill of a mountain that is as small as my pinky toe and finger. And they whispher the softest wispher ever and tell my that they will be in my wispher of thoughts for as long as I live and ever linger after. So I beg them to take me away to the happly home with tree's of a spycodelic meriadd and flowers that cant talk, and barking birds and things of that nature, Then I will be on my way. goodbye my sweet and sour love of tree's that wispher wonderous thoughts. Do you think I am quite insane and must be put a way for wisphering to very vary nice tree's? I ask you now. Answer me of I will scream soft thoughts at your feet. And believe me you dont want that rite? or is it left, maybe it's down. That mutes about right left oh wait I mean down. For I will not fall I will jump. Did I also mention that there is gummy bear juce in this palace of a mountain of a hill that is as now as small as my thumbs that fornever grow to be as big as a sprout. But this juice is something that the tree's give you when they really really dont like you. It gets you drunk and then you will begin to wispher to the trees. I then start to tell them that I will must be on my way up and down this mountain hill. Goodhi, my love of whispering of thought-empy tree's. But they wont let me continue my journy. Please take me to this happy land.

-- Tracey Cooper

Beau

Charlie is my husband, he’s very manly and I just love him so very much. We live in a nice little neighborhood with lots of trees and cars on the street and no sidewalks. Charlie works hard for what we have. I had to quit working after I lost Julie and stay home with little Beau. Beau’s only six years old but had to be pulled out of school for behavior problems, so I stay home to teach instead, but I say there is nothing wrong with him. The shrinks all say that he’s too hyper but I just give him half of one of Charlie’s pain pills and that seems to calm him and me down after 20 minutes. Charlie is Beau's best friend. He listens to everything his daddy says. I can hear Charlie talking to Beau about his friends while I’m cooking dinner. He takes little Beau to the back porch to play a game with a mouse little Beau had found. He tells Beau that he doesn’t want him playing with his friend Derrick anymore, as he grabs a bottle of gas and an empty coke glass telling him no son of his is gonna be a pansy ass. Beau looks wide eyed up at his father and says oh. I could feel the uncertainty of Beau's voice. I tell 'em I don’t think he should be telling Beau this; he can be friends with whoever he wants. Charlie gives me a sharp look and I know what that means. Charlie looks down at Beau again and tells him don’t you let a women tell you what to do; they are good for nothing but cooking and cleaning. He tells him you’re gonna be a man Beau, you’re not gonna be like me, working for nothing to come home to a bitching wife. You’re gonna be something, but Beau feels torn. Not understanding why his father is so angry, but wants to please him in anyway. Charlie stuffs the tiny mouse into the bottle, Beau watches closely for what he'll do next, as Charlie dowses the tiny mouse, he tells Beau that kids like Derrick are not like our family that it’s not the Christian way and that it’s not the American way. He tells Beau what if that kid is president someday, you want some fruity guy running your country? Hell no boy! That’s why I’m here, to teach you what’s right. Charlie stuffs some paper into the top of the coke glass, he looks down on Beau and says watch this, it’s gonna be good. They head for the front yard to the middle of the street Beau struggling to keep up. He watches his father carefully as he lights it on fire and throws the bottle down the street and laughs as the little mouse runs and squeals from the burning hair on its body. Charlie screams with laughter, look son look how he's running look at that. Beau runs into the house and into his room crying while Charlie runs after him screaming. Son you’re no pansy it's just a stupid mouse. I can hear the anger in Charlie’s voice and know what coming next. I run down the hallway almost slipping on the rug, and see Charlie throwing things around. I try hard to think fast, Beau is scared and crying. I push through the doorway blocked with toys, to get in front of Charlie. He doesn’t seem to see me ‘cause I keep getting clipped by toy trucks and blocks being kicked and thrown around. I can feel Beau’s terror and all I can do is tuck my arms to my chest and squeeze my hands to my ears and try to push Charlie out of the room. He’s just a boy Charlie is all I keep telling him, he’s just a boy.

-- Jean Cooper

Love without no meanin

Goodbye my lover see you when ever,

cause you and me will never be together.

You and I we both shall know,

that we weren't meant for each other.

Our day shall come,

for us to know,

but till then,

only time shall know.

So you and I we both shall live,

in perfect lives that is.

Shall I ask one thing from you??

And that would be can you love me to??

--Salvador Vasquez

The Dusty Circle

Within three weeks she was smiling, a bit of yellow visible for a moment. I watched her as she approached the men at the bar inviting then with her breast. Madame LeClair, hearing a faint shrill from the upstairs parlor, but her reverie was broken by a loud cry from the crowd near her. She knew if she was going to make any money off the gentlemen tonight she needed to find a room fast before the other whores started in.

Coming around the dusty little circle again, she wonders if he knew what it meant. I think the very name brought pleasure to him and even the commonest of the villagers can enjoy the same pleasure. Suddenly a shadow fell over her less than civilized existence. "Sir, only ten pence."

--Jean Cooper

Findin ur voice

“Open your eyes, close your ears. Close your ears, open your eyes," said my mother. I had to listen to the sounds of words. Thinking I knew everything, everything that came my way. Not knowing that I had a lot to learn. I was young and naive. Trying to play it off like I knew what I was doing, in reality I didn't have a clue in the world. Afraid to ask or even seek for help, wanting and waiting for help to come an find me. It was just a dream that I was living. Thinking that the world would care and just stop and see if I was OK. But I'm just another person in the world that wasn't going to stand out unless I opened my mouth. That day had came, I found my voice. Realizing that all those times I was scared, nervous, afraid to say anything or even ask something, thinking and worried about what others might think or say about me. It was blown out of proportion, something that I've done myself. Realizing and looking back upon it now, what was I scared of?? Why haven’t I said anything before?? Its kinda amusing to think about now. But now I'm not afraid anymore and neither should you.

--Salvador Vasquez