About the Author

As a writer, Elaine believes in the power of words. She writes prose and poetry, seeing beauty in both. She wasn't very interested in writing until the sixth grade when she transferred to a new school. The people there helped her figure out who she was and where she was going, especially with writing. Elaine strives to create unique stories that not only reach out to the readers, but also to herself.
When it comes to poetry, Elaine's poetry is often quite thoughtful. She uses description and emotions to her strengths when writing poetry. Nature, family, pain, loss, freedom, and many more topics are Elaine's stage. "All the world's a stage."  A rather famous quote from William Shakespeare. Elaine has always enjoyed reading and writing poetry; she has a passion for poetry and is able to see it in everything.
Some of the great authors that inspired her are: Robert Frost, Charles Dickens, Victoria Holmes, Rick Sowash, Emily Dickinson, and so many others. These authors knew how to create a world of thoughts, emotions, stories, adventures on paper. Nothing but ink and paper. Writing connects with Elaine in a way nothing else can.
Elaine has entered several writing competitions and succeeded beyond what she ever thought she could. "The way I look at writing competitions however, is not a competition but an opportunity to write." Elaine is fourteen and excited to be writing so much in her life. Writing has become something so much more than a strenuous task in elementary school. Writing has grown into her. She will continue to write for the rest of her life. Elaine is so thankful to all who helped her grow into who she is today; an author. Pen and paper, writing. Thank you.

Music

Those who know me should know that music is a large part of my life. I am constantly listening to music because I am so inspired by it. There is so much that can be said in a three minute song. Tell me, what are some of your favorite tracks to listen to? Any genre at all! Personally I listen to about 2-3 genres of music but I love hearing from other people what kind of music they like, why they like it, and what inspires them! So please, comment below. Who knows? Maybe we'll have a similar interest!  Have a great day/night/time, wherever you are.

-Be you.

Summers Near

As the school year draws to an end
We say goodbye to memories and fun of the past
As we say hello to summer.

So many cheer and rejoice
At the end of another year.
Whilst I sit idly by, dreaming of summer's end and the start of a new school year.

Don't get me wrong,
I enjoy summer fun as well.
But I far prefer the hallowed halls of my school.

True, we still have until the end of May,
But at that point,
It'll be the end of an era.

We will say goodbye
To friends and faces of the past
As we say hello to warm sunshine.

In the fall again,
We will say hello to friends
And catch up on Summer events

We will see new faces join us
Some shy and afraid
Some outgoing and happy.

As the school year draws to an end
We say goodbye to memories and fun of the past
As we say hello to summer.

This poem is dedicated to my school, friends, and teachers. I couldn't be happier where I am now; all the people I've met, all the things I've done. This school has helped me figure out who I am and where I'm going. Two dear people to me are leaving next year. Oh many others as well, but I will always miss these two high school English teachers. One of them helped me start this blog. One of them I have only seen in the hallways; she teaches an older high school age group. Yet I will miss both of them. I know now who I am, where I'm going, and what I'm meant to be. Without these two teachers, I wouldn't be the person I am now. I know it may sound ridiculous, but it is true.
So many of my wonderful friends are leaving. I think I speak for all of us when I say that those who leave us are never truly gone. They stay in our hearts forever. Forever and Always.

The Power of Words

I've been having a rough day today, and I received an email just a few minutes ago that really brought me down. There's this one friend I have at my school, and she always knows how to lift me up no matter the depth of my doubt. I texted her telling what the email said, and she knew exactly how to comfort me. First she spoke in her own words, then she actually looked up a quote to make me feel better. It goes:

"If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong." By Masaru Emoto.
The power of words is astounding. I've rediscovered that this evening.

Thank you, dear friend. You know who you are.

Dead Poet's Society

I have recently enjoyed the experience of watching a film entitled, "Dead Poet's Society" with my Literature class at school.
Don't worry, I won't spoil anything.
After watching the completed film, I have figured out what I believe is the main point of the movie. Though my words are simple and few, listen, listen, I'm calling to you. "Carpe diem" is a Latin phrase meaning "seize the day".  If you have also seen the movie, you'll see what I mean by that. If you haven't seen it, then let me say that this film is surrounded and filled with seizing the day. So many risks, so many dangers, yet everyone seizes the day.
My personal opinion of the movie is that it was an intense, eye-opening, and truly miraculous film. Out of all the films I have seen in my life, I have to say that I am most grateful I have seen this one instead of the others.
Naturally this film includes poetry, and I have to say I am so honored to have watched this movie. Poetry is included from real life, and characters created their own poems. This is such a moving movie, and you really connect with the characters. I really think this whole movie is a poem. You don't hear poetry in every line of the movie, but you hear it in the rest of the movie. The characters don't even have to speak. But if you listen, really listen, you can see poetry in everything. This movie created that FANTASTICALLY.
Out of all the movies I could recommend, I would recommend this one. I haven't enjoyed a movie like this in all my life. "Dead Poets Society" is my official favorite film.

"Migrant Mother" Poem

They nestle closer to me,
Their frantic hearts beating on my shoulders
As they turn away from the strange man with the camera.

He tells me to look at him but I turn away.
There is a cruel world out there,
And I intend for it to be seen.

Not as a dark fairy tale that doesn't exist,
But for what it is.

I am a mother.
My children live in this nightmare.
I pray to wake up.

They cling to me with rough hands.
Not like those of a young child, but of a man who has worked hard all his life.
These are my childrens' hands. Why?

My children huddle closer,
Afraid and confused.
Why must life be this way?

Poem About my Favorite Food

Creamy, cheesy, warm.
The light shines off the warm butter,
Steam rising in perfects puffs of hot water.
Right out of a commercial.

The scent wafts upward,
The cheese glistens with the shimmer of fairy dust.
The noodles draped inside.

Poetry

Many people make the (with all due respect) mistake of thinking that poetry is just words on a page. But the truth is, is that poetry is so much more than that. It is a symphony of colors, sounds, sights, and magic. It is a doorway to the heart of each human being that connects us all in a way nothing else in this universe can. It is each brushstroke of writing on a page that when all those brushstroke are put together it creates a beautiful painting of writing that we know as poetry. Poetry is beautiful, sorrowful, angry, funny, creative and so much more that expresses each human emotion into a magical poem that connects us all and connects to us all in different ways that touch our hearts. Poetry is magic.

I see poetry in every second of every day that passes by. I see poetry in the bees that buzz in the air, in a curly lock of a stranger's hair, I see it in every person. We don't need to talk or make eye contact, but it is inspiring how amazing it is to see poetry in each person. I see poetry in the way my chihuahua prances across the kitchen floor, the way my mother goes about the same routine of house chores each day without giving a single complaint. I see it in the way flowers grow in springtime. I see it in my writing. I see it in myself.

Free Write Story

My name is Jessica Bauer, and this is my story. 

I was born in a crack in time. The time vortex began to break down. Began to crack. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but from a vortex crack I grew. I was tossed onto this world known by it's inhabitants as 'Earth' like tornado winds whisk flowers from their warm roots embedded in the deep brown dirt: fast like lightning, forceful like roaring ocean waves, and unbeatable like a god. 

I have stayed on this earth for millions years. Or less than I second depending on your point of view. I don't change appearance, not once. Since the crack in the vortex I have been alone. I am always alone. I never utter a sound. I never touch anything but the different textures of this earth beneath my feet. I never stop walking. But I am always alone. I always have been and I always will be. 

Sometimes I wonder about myself. All the time I see Earth's inhabitants grow old and frail. I see them wither away to nothing while I continue on. I observe them. I watch them grow sick. I watch the pain of their loved ones grow mountainously after one inhabitant falls into eternal sleep. Why am I not this way? I observe everyone and everyone observes me. Yet I never speak to them. Yet somehow they always feel a strong urge to talk to me, and then, act upon that urge. I prefer to not talk. To keep walking. To be alone.

All these creatures consume Earth. I believe they are called humans. All of them appear in different shapes and colors. I'll never understand this strange place. Perhaps that is why I am always alone. Yet sometimes, I long to be understood. To feel the way these humans do. Sometimes humans show happiness. Sometimes they show pain and sorrow. And sometimes, they show anger and aggression. 

I may be alone, but that doesn't mean that these humans don't think of me as alone. When they try to talk to me and I don't answer, some grow angry. It's strange. Some humans keep reappearing over time. I think they follow me in my journey. Perhaps they too, are alone. But they don't seem like it. They're always asking me why I don't speak or stop walking. They know I am different. The probably know why. But I don't. Why am I different? 

They are the same. They talk, walk, and go about their lives. Pretty soon, some reappearing faces will cast me out. Throw me dirty glances through their crystal clear eyes. It's so easy to feel that I've done something wrong to be different. So easy...

Wake up!

I'm awake now. What a strange dream. I was a girl who wasn't a human. I was different. A first, people tried to accept me by asking questions about me. But I was too different. They cast me out. I had not followed what they believed appropriate social interactions. Yet, in the dream, I felt that I was myself. They didn't accept me though. I was different. Weird. I was blamed for it. Cast out. Alone.

Was this dream telling me something? It feels so familiar. This is my life. This is who I am. I am myself. I am Jessica. I'm weird and I don't talk. And my fellow students don't accept me for it. It's funny how dreams can become so real. Your life pours into those dreams and suddenly you feel more alone than ever. Your mind creates a fictional character whose qualities are yours. 

In the dream, they didn't like me- Jessica. They didn't accept her because she was weird. People don't accept me because I'm weird. I'm alone just like Jessica. I'm weird too. I don't talk to anybody, not that people try to talk to me anymore unless its an insult. Sometimes I wish I had friends. Sometimes I wish I understood why I don't have friends. I wish I weren't alone. 

Actually, it's alright. I'm myself. I may be a social outcast but I didn't stoop as low as my attackers to conform to their expectations. I stayed myself through everything they threw at me. Maybe that's all I need. To be myself.