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Amtrack
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Genres of Literature Home
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Mar 29 2008, 3:08 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Aug 11 2007, 2:17 PM EDT
Watch
Amtrack speeding along the rails.
Amtrack,
I so love
sways gently to and fro.The train out of Chicago
was a double decker
so I climb the circular stairway
to the observation car.
Amtrack was trying to make time after a 3 hour delay in chicago.
I make my way to the dining car
and order a vegen dish
then make my way back down the stairs and to the club car.
I get to enjoy a cigarette there
and someone treats me to a Gin and Tonic.
Not being a drinker,
I take a tasten and leave the glass on the table.
After a second cigarette,
I make my way to my car
and allow the train rock me to sleep.
I fall asleep watching the backside of houses and factories and telephone poles
as we race past them.
Amtrack is in a one man race to Kansas City
to make up the three hour loss of start time.
I find myself rocked to sleep
by the speeding bullet riding the rails.
Ms Claire Girard-McManus
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Last Reply:
Spring
By: ,
Mar 29 2008, 3:08 PM EDT
I watch the day
and the wind swirls leaves around.
It is Spring
but the wind is cold and strong
as I sit
by the window waiting
for winter to fade away.
Spring,everything comes alive.
I hope I will to.
Spring into my life,
into the lives of others,
needing your life,
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The Eagle Soars
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Sep 23 2007, 4:45 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 3:35 PM EDT
Watch
The eagle soars,
high above the mountains,
scanning for a predator
or his lunch.
His wings are magniicent
and he soars towards earth.
The sky looks like it's on fire.
The sky ablaze
and the Eagle soars,
fearing no one
not even the sky that is on fire.
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Last Reply:
The Prison Doors
By: ,
Sep 23 2007, 4:45 PM EDT
The prison door slams shut
echoing
throughout the surreal existence
No silence,
endless violence.
Claire Girard-McManus
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Noon At The WAterfront
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Aug 30 2007, 12:58 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 25 2007, 12:00 PM EDT
Watch
The grass is moist with dew.
The lake has gentle ripples
as the mother duck anf 4 ducklings
swim into shore.
I throw a piece of my grinder
at then
and they converge upon the morsel.
One babt duck dives
and pulls the piece of bread
under water
but the much wiser mother
also dives
and she submerges with the soggy bread.
They glance at me
as they swim off towards the Adirondacks
I am very contented to sit on th shore
of Lake Champlain and watch the ducks
as they search
for more handouts.
Claire Girard-McManus
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Last Reply:
Winds of Change
By: ,
Aug 30 2007, 12:58 PM EDT
Winds of change,
trial by fire.One speaks the truth,
the other a liar.
The winds of change
can alter time,
the truth will be set free
for all time.
Healing is a simmering process
that leaves shadows of the past.
Winds can change
and make these words last.
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A site to put your writings
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my writings
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Aug 11 2007, 2:29 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Aug 11 2007, 2:29 PM EDT
Watch
a safe place to put your writings.Would love to see this a poetry.short story...any type of writing forum.
Feel free to post!
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Oh,Kansas
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Genres of Literature Home
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Aug 11 2007, 11:59 AM EDT by
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Thread started: Aug 11 2007, 11:59 AM EDT
Watch
Oh,Kansas
my beloved Kansas.Your wheat fields moving gently
in the warm Kansas breeze.
Acres of Sunflowers
with Texas Longhorns ambling about.
The mighty Arabian horse.
regal,majestic
commanding respect.
The land so flat,
you can see for miles.
WEstern Kansas,
a taste of heaven.
It's beauty can't be captured.
Kansas folk do their best to keep trouble far away.
Whatb a thrill it would be to ride an Arabian horse
across the western plains of Kansas
as it's beauty becomes a part of me.
Oh Kansas,
my beloved Kansas.
Claire Girard McManus
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Blues Man
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Genres of Literature Home
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Aug 11 2007, 11:40 AM EDT by
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Thread started: Aug 11 2007, 11:40 AM EDT
Watch
The guitar player
belts out the blues
fo anyone who will listen
he's paying his dues.
His voice,a bit rough,singing the truth
of death and love lost.
He sings of the heartbreak
and the blues at all cost.
The Blues man travels
across this land
stopping at coffee houses
with his road house band.
He plays on street corners,
with a jar to catch change.
He'll never be rich
but he'll play just the same.
Claire McManus- Girard
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Greetings Learners
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Aug 6 2007, 9:42 AM EDT by
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Thread started: Jun 10 2007, 2:48 PM EDT
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This is the page that I'd like you to use for any writings you'd like to contribute. It can be a formal paper, or a one or two line comment. That is entirely up to you, unless I assign a required entry. Looking forward to seeing you all in class on Thursday!!
Peace,
Keven-Charles
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Last Reply:
RE: Just an update
By: ,
Aug 6 2007, 9:42 AM EDT
"Thank you for your kind mail.I have to stay prettty quiet for the moment.I I am grateful that the stroke didn't restrict any limb movement.For a few days I had a difficult time speaking.I am on new thyroid meds now and doing what the Dr says.I do want to take anothet class with you.Maybe in the spring as I can't take the scooer out in the snow.
I enjoyed your class and all the encouragement you gave me.It gave me an idea to do an autobiography,montage style or do you think that would be t"too busy".
Thank you again for all of your hard work.It was appreciated.
Claire Girard-McManus" Ms. Girard-McManus,
This would be an excellent time for you to work on an Autobiography. You have a lot of stories to tell, and I think there's a real market for writings from folks who've seen life from the "disabled" angle.
It will also keep you occupied during the Fall and Winter, which is important. The brain is like any muscle, if it is stagnant for too long, it will atrophy. I love the idea of doing your autobiography in a montage style. You could even throw some of your poems and short stories in - between chapters. The awesome thing is that it's YOUR story, and YOUR opportunity. You can do it in the style that most appeals to YOU!! Please let us know if there's anything we can do to help, during this difficult and trying time. Take care of yourself, and I will look forward to seeing you in the Spring.
Best Always,
Keven-Charles
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Just to let you know I had a minor stroke
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Aug 4 2007, 1:03 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Aug 4 2007, 1:03 PM EDT
Watch
Hi Felllow learners,
I posted this as a reply but forgot where I posted it.
Just to let you know I had a stroke.It started on Monday and continued on through Tuesday evening.When I was at the class I was feeling very strange,,went to the ER and they found out what itwas.My thyroid level was too high.I'd love to hear from you.I reallyenjoyed working with all of you.
Claire Girard-McManus
234 so champlain st #116'
Burlington
Branagan945@Juno.Com
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The Killers
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 30 2007, 1:34 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 30 2007, 1:34 PM EDT
Watch
The killers slid into Kansas
covered by the dark of night.
Four lives were violently taken that night
by two Godless killers
who felt no remorse.
The killers left Kansas as quietly
as they had entered.
It's been years since
that act of violence
in Holcomb,Kansas.
Kansas,the heartland.
Kansas,
that holds the terror of that night.
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Putting my writing on page
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Classroom Feedback
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Jul 25 2007, 5:57 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jun 29 2007, 6:56 PM EDT
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Where do I go to print out my writings so they show on the page.Thanks.
Branagan945
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Last Reply:
Re: Genre of Literature Class
By: ,
Jul 25 2007, 5:57 PM EDT
Next Tuesday will be our last class.The ten weeks flew by too fast.I have taken several colleges classes and this class was one of the most interesting.Keven-Charles walked us through so many venues.Wtriting the papers was one of my favorite but they would not have been as good without the influence of Keven-Charles.He promised us an advanced course and he delivered that..I want to thank you,Keven-Charles,for the knowledge you shared with us.I now see Truman Capote in a different light.. I enjoyed the class and look forward to another English Class.
Thank you Keven-Charles
Claire
Branagan945@Juno.com
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God's Scoreboard
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Jul 25 2007, 1:23 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 1:06 PM EDT
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My mortal soul soul cries out against the injustices
that I know are going on about us.
The inhumanity of it all
makes me question a supreme existence.
The nuns at Rice High,back in '63 reassurred me it should never be questioned.
I would like to think that Jesus wins the BIG game
in the spirtual world series.
I have lived in a life of love,joy,sorrow
and abuse
but I still think GOD will win the big one.
The score is on the bill board
World 12 GOD 54
dedicated to Patrick McManus
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Last Reply:
RE: God's Scoreboard
By: ,
Jul 25 2007, 1:23 PM EDT
NEW YORK YANKEE STADUIM!!!!!
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The Clutter Murders
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 23 2007, 1:48 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 13 2007, 8:09 PM EDT
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The full moon
light the night skies over Holcomb,Kansas.
The family,
so closly knit,
had drifted off to sleep
probably each of them
had dreams of things to come
or plesant memories.
They drifted off to sleep
not knowing that in a few short hours
terror would take each of them
oner
by
one.
Herb Clutter
was the first to be face to face with the faces of evil.
The two killers personified evil.
One
by
one
The Clutters were slaughtered
like lambs.
The age of innoocence in Holcomb
had come to a disastrous end.
The town would never be the same again.
Herb,
the shepard of his flock
was brutally murdered with Kenyon
in the basement.
Blood poured like water>The sheriff said he felt he had walked into Hell.
Nancy was shot
in the back of her head.
She must have turned in fear
and Mrs Clutter shot in her bed.
All had been tied.
All had died.
The full moon was ablaze over Holcomb
like the fire that burned in the killers souls.
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Last Reply:
RE: The Clutter Murders
By: ,
Jul 23 2007, 1:48 PM EDT
Scared myself a little bit too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Claire Girard-McManus
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The Incident #3
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Jul 22 2007, 2:38 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 2:38 PM EDT
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I didn't get to go to the swimming hole instead my mom was afraid to let me ride that horrid purple bike so we went and she bought me a new bike.It wasn't the red one I dramed of.It was a pretty blue and would fo really fast but after that narrow escape,I never tried to race the wind again.I gave up the paper route.
The rest of the summer was spent at camp,swimming at the brook,reading and all kinda of summer fun.
I remember the bike incident all too well.I think I am the only one left to tell the sordid tale.It's probably just as well.Some stories are meant to die a natural death This is one of them.
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The Incident #2
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Jul 22 2007, 2:27 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 2:27 PM EDT
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I had promised my Grandparents I would never race the wind and for some reason the believed me.
The Ag teachers home was about half way down the hil.Just enough to start to pick up some speed.
The Ag teacher was remodeling his home and had the new glass for his picture propped against a hill.I never saw it coming.
I had picked up speed and decided if I sped past his house I'd just circle back around and give him his paper.It seemed like a good idea at the time.
I was picking up speed.After my route,my mom was going to take me to Kidder's Brook for a swim.
I was peddling faster and faster and then it happened.....
CRASH!
I had driven my bike through the new glass.
THe teacher and the work crew came running to see if I was hurt.I wasn"t hurt but shattered glass was all around me.The teacher invited me in and his wife of lemonade and checked me over for wounds.I felt like crying but being the tomboy that I was,tears were foir sissies.The teacher said not to worry he was insured.I managed to pick up all of the remaining papers on his lawn
The workman fixed my handlebars,Soon the bike was up and running.
When I got to my moms,the teacher had called and said the reason for the crash was the brakes had faied..
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THe Incident
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Jul 22 2007, 2:04 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 2:04 PM EDT
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When I was ten,I had a paper route.I delivered the St Albans Messanger.I had my trusty, used purple bike.I was saving for a red Schwim.
I had a rather large route when I would first start.There were lots of hills so sometimes Ii woulf put msany of the papers in my red wagon and deliver them that way,Then when the loda was lifgter I was oin my purple bike.
There were a few customers that I had to beg for the money or it would be deducted from my paycheck.That was the downside of having a paper route.
There were two elderly sisters who counted every penny they owed.They would report me if I was five minutes late.Their names were Mildred and Maude.They found all children an annoyance.If children didn't serve a purpose they shouldn't be runing around loose.
When the load was light enough,near the end of my route,I lovd
flyimg down the hills feeling the wind blowing against my face.
Of course this was greatbduring the sumer I won't make the reader sufffer through the winter.
The steepest hill was at the edge of town which dumped a rider on the main road with all the traffic going and coming from St Albans. You had to be alert and watch both ways and check your brakes..more oin PART @
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Bobbin Mill
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 22 2007, 12:27 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 22 2007, 12:27 PM EDT
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I remember when this was a working factory
Men doing hard labor.
Those were days long ago
when neighbors talked to neighbors.
Smoke billowing from 2 tall smoke stacks
the large comercial bobbin's were made
then polshed and shipped
while many men took a few minutes rest and enjoyed a snack.
not one bobbin could be chipped.
My best friends father worked here
he gave the Bobbin Mill his every breath
until one dayall he could give
was 20 years to death.
I think of him
from time to time
and remember his cough and oxygen
the companty called it a victimless crime.,
Mr Gambino,
was the gentleman's name.
His family camt from Italy
a good father and a hard worker was his claim to fame.
Claire Girard-McManus
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Hear My Dreams
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 20 2007, 4:07 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 20 2007, 4:07 PM EDT
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Hear my dreams
for I had dreams.
I had dreams
of hope,
dreams of desire,
dreams of tomorrow
that would rise up
and embrace me.
Hear my dreams
that once were,
Dreams that even
the dreamcatcher
couldn't filter.
Hear my dreams
for they shouted out
"Hear me.
,Hear My Dreams"
Claire Girard McManus
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Mom
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Writings Contributed by Learners
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Jul 15 2007, 5:52 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 15 2007, 5:52 PM EDT
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She looked at the garden
too tired and weak
from the radiation
to bend down and smell the red rose.
I neeed to rest,
she whispered to me
and then she slept
in the sunlight
and I saw her life in that garden.
Claire-Girard McManus
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The City Never Sleeps (For Brooklyn)
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 13 2007, 7:43 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 13 2007, 7:43 PM EDT
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The city never sleeps,
or needs to.
Hustle,bustle
scurry,
worry.
The city never sleeps.
Rumbling trains,
masses huddled
awaiting to scatter off
to work,
to play.
The city never sleeps,
nor needs to.
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Mother's Day
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Genres of Literature Home
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Jul 13 2007, 7:39 PM EDT by
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Thread started: Jul 13 2007, 7:39 PM EDT
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A birth
nearly forgotten in time.
A son's voice not heard
or handwriting on a card
never seen.
A birth from another time.
It is an affirmation
of my motherhood,
long forgotten.
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