There was a voyager who went forth

There was a voyager who went forth on Tuesday

He walks in tranquility, unaware

Of the thin line of a Blue streak racing down Forest Park

He starts Racine down the ramp

Adrenaline pumping through his heart as his feet fly to get him to his destination

The multi-bodied behemoth scoffs as it charges off without him

Having already satisfied its appetite

Angered, he stares off plotting his revenge

Fear grips him but he knows he must enter the mouth of the beast

He waits for its distinct call: the screeching of the wheels on the parse wood

The beast comes, mouth open, taunting the voyager to enter

He grips his tools, knowing he must enter resume his hunt

The creature’s voice blares resounds though its body, telling its victims where their destination lies

Within the mouth of the beast, the voyager sees the other victims the creature has taken

There is a man, offering everyone on board a death stick of smoke

He knows it is the only way to drown out his sorrows and escape the horror of his captivity

Still another reveals itself and munches on Pretzels, Chips, and Hummus in rapid succession, wishing to eat its last meal before it dies

Yet one more flies through train and train, squawking for money, her pockets dangling with enough change and evidence of her treachery

The voyager is touched, startled but happy to see a fellow comrade in these abyss

They converse about the horror of the AP World History Essay, before his friend leaves, having found a way to escape the beast’s mouth

More people enter the beast

A man comes with two snakes intertwined in his ears, eyes glued to this 16 GB window of light

Two lovers, barge through, treating each other’s faces like a succulent meal

Eyes closed but still finding the prime cuts of flesh and best tasting morsels

Like a mist, sleep overtakes the voyager

Seeing his destination, he punches through the beast’s mouth

His feet propel him up the stairs, while the creature attempts to catch him

The cold and bitter winds strike his face

He steps and turns to reject the cold’s embrace

He slides across the ground as a means of transportation

The roar of another creature echoes throughout the air

The voyager turns, knowing he must confront it

The air shackles the clean air, beating it to a dark and husky black

The Death of Success

Here is the story of Erfolg Éclat
A tale of tragedy, one of the best
He was by all means perfect, just one flaw
He found his worth in failures and success

A concoction for a harrowing life
An error he found till it was too late
He could not be a hero in the strife
Overcome with grief he accepted his fate

To live, was not life, but die was to gain
Yes, so finally, he left Earth at last!
What could cause him to feel such deadly pain?
To answer that, look back into his past

Blessed with much wealth, with more than Ms. Sommers
In life, he made the face of heaven fine
Few would speak to him, for they would stutter
But his intellect truly made him divine

He scored a hundred on 36 (thirty six) tests
Beating out 2400 (twenty four hundred) students
On his good days, he thought himself the best
But when good seldom called, he felt foolish

His life was 100% (one hundred percent) numbers
He drank the quail shot of the Jumping Frog
For he was weighed down by his harsh failures
He made a strict vow: succeed or be flogged

When he won his awards, life was real
But when success cheated him, he groaned
On his heart, he engraved an uncial
Roads less traveled are best traveled alone!

Truly, he had life so could love life
Alas, the soil of his heart was hard
Even his victories were stabs by a knife
A mockery so brutal, he was scarred

He made a plan so the pain would subside
No longer would he stay, he would go far
But no, Erfolg didn't commit suicide
Instead, he waved good-bye, leaving for Mars!

So what can we say he learned from all this?
How can one deal with a latching conflict?
Is it to run away and throw a fit?
To give up and fall, rather than persist?

Are we, the privileged, guilty of such crimes?
Do we define our lives in shallow ways?
When we do not get our way do we whine?
Are humans doomed for the rest of their days?

Or can we, the future take on the call?
To be strong students of integrity?
And promise to rise, whenever we fall?
To strive and to keep our identity?

For all of us can be ensnared by stress
We forsake ourselves, and try to impress
For never was a story of more distress
Than of Erfolg Éclat and his success!

Why Montag's Musings?

In the novel Fahrenheit 451, literary master Ray Bradbury crafts a dystopian future that is dangerously reminiscent of the world today, despite the fact that the novel was written in 1953. Jumping right into the narrative, Bradbury gives no explanation for the world he has created and commands his readers to pick up the shattered pieces of his story and piece it together to form the twisted and unforgiving world of Fahrenheit 451. In this world, the possession and reading of books has been banned, and those individuals who are caught owning such works face severe and macabre consequences. Guy Montag is a firefighter, one who enforces the strict laws of this moribund future and is tasked with burning all of the remaining pieces of literature. However, eventually Montag himself comes into possession of a book and begins to read, and thus he begins to muse and think about the conditions of the world around him.

Therefore, in light of Montag’s musings, I want this blog to be a venue for me to also place down my ideas and “musings” of life, whether that is through poetry, short stories, or another area of writing. I want to challenge the shallow and trivial status quo that has been placed on high schoolers. I do not want to simply accept failure or wrongdoing even if it is the most appealing route. In respect to Montag, I wish to capture the fiery passion of Bradbury in my own work and to think about the world and change it, hopefully inspiring transformation and a call to action through my words.