The Adventures Of Red Writing Hood

   His hands were small and cold. I massaged the wrinkles that had creased around his jagged fingernails. Unlike my own, there were no freckles dotting the back of his hand. His red hair that used to match my own was faded and cut short. He looked at me, and I at him. One resemblance that time hadn't destroyed was our big brown eyes. And then, just moments later, even this was taken away from me as he closed his eyes, never to open them again.    I felt like crying out. Felt like shouting at the doctor for not trying harder to keep his heart beating. But in my head I heard the rhythmic tune of the first song he ever taught me. It was a common reminder that time is a race humanity never wins. Time going round the clock. Tick tock, tick tock... He always taught me to sing in a deep tenner. Each day begins on the dot. Tick tock, tick tock... He taught me to think about the words. Time... And apply the meaning to your voice. Tock, tick tock... And

Here she comes around the corner Eyes so dark and teeth so white Killing all who came before her Who had not lived a Catholic life She had a marriage, doomed to fall She had a kingdom, lost it all She had a hope that never called There’s only one who has no fear Elizabeth the first is here! Let Mary hit the chopping block As she falls, as she falls She had her chances, many chances  lost them all, she lost them all

      Some of you may not know who Lady Jane Grey is, so before reading this poem, please take the time to peek at this introduction so you can better understand my writing...      Lady Jane Grey is the cousin of the young King Edward VI. She is better known as the "Nine Days Queen", because she only reigned for nine days. Her husband, Lord Guilford Dudley, was publicly executed and his body was taken past her door. She is known to have cried out his name in agony.      She was beheaded just days after, refusing to convert into the Catholic faith. Her final words are included in this poem. She was eighteen years old... Oh Guilford, Guilford! Darling Guilford. I see they took your life. They hardly gave You a day To change this world Of sin and strife. But I, oh I, Was given nine! Nine days to change the world. Oh Guilford, Guilford! Darling Guilford. I shout out to the Lord, As my time is soon “Into thy hands I commend my

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/tired-college-student I didn’t know I missed you. I didn’t know I cared. I didn’t know I loved you, Until you weren’t there. I didn’t know your value, Until you ran away. I didn’t know I loved you, Until you wouldn’t stay. I didn’t know I hurt you, Until I saw you cry. I didn’t know I broke you, Until I watched you die. 

Oh how the light does shine at day And falls when night has come to stay And lets the moon caress your face With shimmery hands and solemn grace Oh how the sun defines your mood, When he is gone, you act quite rude. But when the moon returns to you, You rest. And the little steady breathing of The child that you are, Will surely fall in years to come With every falling star. And your chest will seem quite heavy, And your breaths will come out slow. For your muscles are now letting Your weary breathing go. And as the moon holds your face And smooth’s your wrinkles crease, And kisses your dimples with such grace You slip off into peace And on the morrow when there is, The laying of the casket. Your soul will not be in therein; Twill be in Heavens basket. And when the rain alas does stop And the light allowed to shine, He’ll cry for the moons loss And

Far across the mountain trails Running under the big blue sky Between the forests mossy veil’s A dirt road travels by Not many folks have sought to travel This road of which I talk about For now they only step on gravel There is no such thing as a road without So now this road is overgrown With all manner of plants and vines Not many travel down this road This road less traveled by They trust themselves and no one else They think they don’t need love They don’t believe in miracles They don’t believe in God They don’t believe in angels They don’t believe in make believe They don’t believe in true love spells They don’t believe in me For if they did, then surely they Would run about the road all day Shouting my name to the sky On the road that travels by What is this road And Who am I?

Just as he toddles and babbles and walks, My baby is off to the war. No longer is he sound asleep in my arms With dimples and smiles and more. His heart is so young, His years just begun. Oh what is this stupid war for? His complexion will wrinkle And whittle and wit. He’ll come home in bits if he comes home at all. Lord why does this war make little boys rise, just to force them to trip and to fall?

   Auschwitz was a Nazi concentration camp during the Holocaust in the 1940's. Over 1 million, 1 thousand Jews died behind the walls of this camp. Most of the people here were burned or gassed over the course of four years. Each year, this same amount of babies are aborted. America has become its own Auschwitz. They think it is such a big deal to kill a million people, but how is it okay to kill a million babies every single year?    This poem is dedicated to all of those babies who have been murdered by their own parents before they were even born. Welcome to the Auschwitz of America Where babies lives have little worth Pain goes unnoticed, tears are ignored Here in the Auschwitz of America Little hearts are poisoned Little mouths scream suffering Their lives are in the balance of choice Here in the Auschwitz of America When will they be liberated? When will they be freed? Welcome to sin, and hurt, and shame Welcome to the Auschwitz of Am

Blunderbore is a rather large giant His voice rumbles the earth And makes it quake The trees sway with his footsteps The dogs bark The cats hide All of humanity is fearful of this beast But alas At the end of the day Jack coo’s him back to his beanstalk And he climbs up Preparing for a giant night of sleep And we relish the quiet moment Only an hour or so Between the time when he falls asleep And then begins to snore

Scarlet blood on the battlefield Scarlet blood on the cross Scarlet blood on night’s moony shield  Scarlet blood on all lives lost Scarlet blood on sinner’s forehead Scarlet blood on thieving bands Scarlet blood on all tears shed Scarlet blood on killer’s hands Scarlet blood on children beaten Scarlet blood on wrong paths to take Scarlet blood on crucifixion But at last, on the third day… Scarlet blood turns white as snow Wiping all red that we can see So when it’s gone everyone knows That scarlet blood doesn’t have to be

   Dedicated to the 1.5 million innocent children who perished in the Holocaust. May your 'little dreams rise and fly'. I writhe on the ground like a rat You think I'm worth no more than that                                                    As I twist and I turn in utter agony At your lies and your hate and antagony Why do you hurt me so? What have I done to you? Why is it bad that I am a Jew? I’m a child—that’s it, nothing more Do I deserve to be forced to the floor? My hair might be dark, my eyes might be brown Does that mean I can be thrown to the ground? Please don’t think of murder, I beg mercy to thee! Put down your gun and repent to the King! No! Don’t pull the trigger I’m too young to die! You didn’t even let me say my last goodbye. Little terrified heart, don’t stop your beating Little horrified feet, don’t stop your stepping When we make there, to the throne of God I promise there’ll be nothing wrong Where pain is just a mem

On this day so dark and drizzly Where morning sits in grey disguise With air so thick and misty The sun has failed to rise On this day so sad and aching Where darkness fills the empty skies Where very few have made their waking The sun has failed to rise And there he hides with hardly a sound Watching the moon appear Gazing at her curves so round And lonely atmosphere His one true wish is to join her And brighten up the night He’d give up every sunrise after To stand forever by her side So on the day the sun has gone And you look up in the skies And you wonder what must be wrong And why he failed to rise Remember that there is true love Waiting just for you to find But you must choose her far above The joy it is to rise

The lightning is tall as it bites through the sky The thunder roars out its name The air is thick, the sun is shy As the clouds all play their game Lights pour through the atmosphere My boat tips and rocks and creaks The thunder’s so loud I cannot hear Waves splash over me I scream in panic as my boat is devoured My lifejacket keeps me afloat But I can feel monsters in the water Tickling at my toes Trust in me child, I’ve got your back I hear a voice so soft and warm Jesus calls out through the black Through the thickest and worst of the storm

So for one of my online college courses I was asked to "paint a picture, create a canvas in words". I have to use images and feelings to describe an object without saying what it is. If it is obvious to figure out it means I did a good job. Post your guess in the comments below:) Comfy, fluffy, soft and puffy Soothing me to sleep Forever here until my waking You are mine to keep Aggressively I fluff you up Before my midnight slumber One would never be enough— I always add another 

In this poem, I decided to try and capture the essence of a culture shock, and then the characters personal opinion after living in this place for a bit. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Enjoy! The monster is so long and yellow I recon he’s a grouchy fellow As he drives us to the states As if we were just cargo freights As I gaze through the monsters eyes I look to the ground, then up at the skies And see a sight never seen before  What beauty America has in store! I write my mother, I love her so But my life back there has got to go I risk it all, family and friends To find out where this rainbow ends My lungs may fail, my back may break But I must put it all at stake To live the dream my father had And his father before me, and his before that Living under stars and stripes Why do those women dress so tight? Why drink stuff that makes us woozy and slow? Why think unborn babies deserve to go? America is a lan

   Victoria was tall, with sharp cheekbones and hard curves. She had a small stomach, and hardly looked like a healthy woman at all. In her large yellow shopping bag her baby boy slept soundly, hidden so no one would suspect he was there.      One word echoed in her head: Run. Run. Run. She must get away from him, she must take Eli and hide from the terrible man her husband has become. She tried to quicken her pace, walking steadily, her other two bags bouncing at her side. Thump, thump, thump. Hopefully no one would spot her out through the crowd.   She could think no more as tears burned her pale, sunken cheeks as the thought of what she must do enveloped her anew. She walked until her long, thin legs stopped at the New York Orphans Home. She reached down and peeked at her baby boy sadly.             “I love you Eli,” She whispered, a sob catching her throat. He whimpered softly, but remained sleeping. She put a small note on the blanket he was wrapped in. “I love you, baby,

  The smell of smoke lies in the air Ashes, ashes in my hair I stare into the graying skies Only then did I realize The fire shooting from the mountain Like a big, hot, reeking, boiling fountain Stone-still, I await my death Smoke obstructs my every breath I hear my people’s deadly cries Quickly, quickly, I close my eyes Photo Credit to Joachim G Pinkawa : fineartamerica.com

Rainbows painted all over the walls Unicorns replacing the horses own stalls Three cakes each made a mile high And presents that nearly touch the sky Princesses, princes, jesters and knights Acrobats, clowns, and dynamite Puppies that play fetch all over the lawn A new four post bed for me to lay on But the most important of all of these things Is the entry of Mr. Sir Daddy the King For he is the one whom all of us love And is far, far better than the cakes up above He will be there, no need for the rest Just having Daddy already makes me feel blessed Never would I like to invite million friends Because deep down I only want my Daddy to attend