In Honor of National Poetry Month

April is almost over, but I wanted to post something for National Poetry Month.  I've had a bad relationship for poetry in the past.  I think it has a lot to do with how poetry is taught in school and which poems they make you read.  I despised poetry even though I have always loved every other form of literature.  Over the course of high school, my feelings began to change a bit, but I still shied away from it for the most part.  Then, this year (my first year of college) I realized that it's nowhere near as scary as I'd thought it was all these years.  I definitely have a certain college class and a certain professor to think for finally making me realize that.  Now I have a much bigger love for poetry, and I've discovered that writing it isn't as scary as I'd always feared either.

For my English class this semester we were asked to write a found poem.  A found poem is a poem that is written from pieces of another work of literature.  You search that work, find bits of pieces of it, and rearrange it to create your own work.  In this case we were told to work with the short novel "Noon Wine" by Katherine Anne Porter.  The assignment was scary to me when I first learned of it, and even when I turned my poem in I wasn't all that proud of it even though I'd worked hard on it.  I've always felt that poetry is more restrictive (and I still believe it is in many ways) than prose, and I didn't think my poem fit that.  However, my professor approached me one day to tell me that she'd really enjoyed my poem.  I was shocked since I'd thought it had been horrible.  That was kind of the last thing to break me away from the fear I'd had about writing poetry for so long.

I still don't consider myself a poet by any means, but I've decided to post the poem I wrote for that class here (and on my personal blog) in honor of National Poetry Month.  I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever shared any poetry I've written other than what I've been required to in classes because I've always been so scared of it.  I guess this is just another step in getting over that.

Foreign America

Some kind of accent.
It wasn't Cajun, Nigger, or Dutch,
So it had him stumped.
What kind of foreigner could he be...

"I'm a Swede."
Never seen any Swedes in this neck of the woods.
The first Swede I ever lay eyes on.
Heavens, he looked lazy,
Worthless, he did, now.

"Been here long yourself?"
Been right here all along.
"From Ireland, I reckon?"
What makes you think...

Been settled here for so long
It don't make much difference.

Life Lessons 30: Pain

Dani had never in her life felt pain like this before. She now understood the full meaning of excrutiating. If she died from the pain, it wouldn't even surprise her. How could she possibly go on when it hurt this much? She didn't think it was possible. Nothing could provide her comfort.

Aldine was gone forever, and nothing could be done to change that. Dani had never believed things like this happened. People didn't die when they were twelve. It just didn't happen. Only the elderly die.

Dani's father had sat down to tell her two hours ago that Aldine had died last night after being in a car crash with her family. Everyone else had made it out alive with minor injuries. Cars had been a relatively new concept in District 12, and only a limited number of them could be found on the streets. This tragedy had shocked the entire district.

Dani made the mistake of glancing at her mother as Peeta told her the story as calmly as he could. Katniss looked as if every nightmare she'd had about the future had suddenly come true. Dani had it worse. This wasn't her nightmare. This was something so horrible that Dani hadn't even dreamt it possible. The young girl was entirely unprepared for the disaster and had no idea how to handle it. In her twelve years, Dani had never directly experienced death other than watching her mother while hunting, and even that had rattled Dani so much that she'd declined ever going again.

Now, all of her views on death were changing. It was a reality now, and Dani was being asked to accept the fact that she'd never see one of her best friends again except as a still corpse in a casket before it was closed and buried deep into the ground.

The idea was almost too much for the girl to take as she holed herself up in her room and cried never-ending tears. Dani hadn't known it was possible to produce this many tears this quickly. Just one of the many things she was discovering today.

She felt the matress dip beside her but couldn't be bothered to glance up at the person who had invaded her privacy. Dani deduced that it was her father when he pulled her hair back and pulled her closer to himself. She sunk into his embrace, but not even her father could make her feel better at that particular moment.

He must have held her for hours before Dani ran out of tears. It was only then that she stopped to realize that he hadn't bothered to move for that long because he was more worried about her. For the first time, Dani lifted her head from the pillow, hoping not to burst into tears at the sight of her father. She was surprised to find not only her father looking down at her but her mother as well. Katniss had settled in a chair by Dani's bedside, and Dani didn't think she had seen her this worried since Nickel's injury in the woods.

No one wanted to break the silence. Katniss and Peeta were probably worried that anything they said would set of Dani's tears again, but Dani didn't think that was possible. Her eyes stung more than she thought was possible. They'd be raw for weeks.

Dani burried her face in her father's shoulder as her mother moved towards the bed and began to hold her too. Her crying had subsided, but her emotions were just as strong as ever. The young girl had a feeling there would always be a part of her that ached at the thought of Aldine.

A/N: And that's the end of Life Lessons! I'm sorry for ending it on such a sad one, but I guess the fact that death is a part of life is always the hardest lesson to learn, isn't it? Thank you to everyone who read Life Lessons. It means a lot, and an extra special thank you to everyone who reviewed it. I read all of the reviews, and I really appreciate all of them.

I'm currently writing a second Hunger Games fanfiction that will cover themes 31-50 of the Hunger Games 100 Theme Challenge. It's entirely different though and will be about the 4^th Hunger Games. I hope you all check it out as well when it's up. I'm about halfway through writing it at the moment. Hopefully it'll be up sometime this summer.

Again, thank you to all of you who read the entire story! I appreciate it.

Life Lessons 29: Heal

Nickel's face scrunched up at the horrid smell. No matter how many times he entered Haymitch's house it always managed to catch him off guard. It was as if the smell of alcohol had permeated every single area of the house, even the smallest of crevices. It was a smell that Nickel hoped he was never used to.

The boy had been sent over to check on Haymitch as it had been a few days since he'd last been seen. When Nickel was younger, he'd have never been allowed into the house alone unless his parents knew Haymitch was awake. If he'd stumbled upon an asleep Haymitch and accidently awoke him things could have been bad. A few years ago though, Haymitch had finally begun to sleep without his usual knife. Something that his parents had seemed overjoyed to discover. Now that his awakenings were less violent, Nickel and Dani were often sent to do the deed. Nickel thought it had something to do with Haymitch being easier on them than he was their parents. He really did have a soft spot for them, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Haymitch," Nickel called into the house that was as eerily quiet as usual. As he'd expected, there was no answer, and Nickel was left to wander through the house to search for its sole occupant. Without bothering to look into the TV room that had sat empty since before Nickel's birth, the boy went straight for the kitchen: the room with the alcohol and Haymitch's favorite room by default.

Sure enough, the aged man was slumpt over in his usual seat, but in an odd change to routine, the drunken man was awake. Nickel was about to ask why Haymitch hadn't answered him earlier, when the boy really took in the scene before him. Although Haymitch had appeared to be awake at first glance, Nickel began to wonder if the man had learned how to sleep with his eyes open. Either that or Haymitch was lost in his own head because no one found a bottle of alcohol that interesting, not even a drunk.

It was with great trepidation that Nickel made his way towards Haymitch's kitchen table. He was just a few steps away when Haymitch's eyes suddenly found him. Startled, Nickel jumped back quickly before regaining his composure and sitting in the seat opposite Haymitch who now seemed as focused on Nickel as he had been on the bottle just a moment ago.

Nickel sat in discomfort while Haymitch studied him for what felt like hours. Finally, the old man began to speak. "You ever wonder why I drink so much, boy?"

In all honesty, Nickel had wondered about it once or twice, but he couldn't say it was something that had occupied more than a minute or two of his thoughts at any given time. Haymitch just drank. Nickel had never thought of it as weird seeing as it was the only way he'd ever known the man. Before Nickel could answer, Haymitch continued, "Alcohol is a powerful thing. I used to tell myself I was better than the morphlings, but I don't really believe that anymore." Nickel never got a chance to ask what Haymitch meant by "morphlings." "You're the first person I've ever said this to, but I'm a weak person, boy. Sure, I've done a lot of brave things, but I'm weak. It's to be expected of course. I'm human, even if I've done some very inhumane things. We're all weak, and I didn't have someone to rely on like your parents did. I suppose I'm lucky I didn't kill myself."

Nickel was beginning to get a little freaked out. He had no idea where this was coming from or what Haymitch even meant. None of it made sense to the young boy. Maybe the alcohol had made Haymitch entirely crazy.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," Haymitch finally began to answer one of Nickel's unspoken questions. "You're too young for this, yet I think that's why I chose to unload it on to you. Not fair really. Not even ethical. But since when have I been fair and ethical? There's a reason I'm a victor."

Haymitch's words meant next-to-nothing to the young boy, as Nickel sat in rapt attention. He tried to decipher every sentence, but his limited knowledge wasn't allowing him to figure much out. Nickel was still trying to figure out what "ethical" meant as Haymitch suddenly fell silent again.

Haymitch's thoughts seemed to be continuing down the same path that he had just been voicing outloud to Nickel. Nickel wondered if he should run for one of his parents. They'd understand what Haymitch was ranting about, and they'd probably have a better chance at making him feel better. His parents always made everything better.

Nickel had barely made it out of his seat when Haymitch stopped him with a grumble. "Where are you going, boy?" Nickel looked sheepishly at Haymitch, unsure of how to respond.

"To get my parents," he murmered quietly.

"Boy, your parents can't help me." Nickel thought he detected a bit of humor in Haymitch's eyes.

Nickel was a little shook up at the words. The young boy silently sat back down in his seat, unsure of what to do now or how to act in Haymitch's presence.

"There are some things that just can't be fixed," Haymitch muttered so softly that Nickel was sure he hadn't been meant to hear it.

The boy was becoming even more uncomfortable as the silence continued. Nickel had no idea what he should do or if he should do anything at all. Time passed, and Nickel began considering just leaving and letting Haymitch deal with everything on his own. Nickel had begun pushing back his chair when he thought better of it. Glancing up, Nickel watched Haymitch as he took another swig of alcohol. The drunk was now looking towards the window placed over the sink.

Nickel stayed and sat with Haymitch in silence for quite a while, but it wasn't until years later that he fully understood what Haymitch had meant. Some wounds were harder to heal than others, and people used different methods to heal, some of which worked better than others. Haymitch could drink all the alcohol in the world, but he'd never be healed. Haymitch would never heal. He'd suffer through the rest of his life pretending to be healed by masking his problems with alcohol, but the wounds would still be there underneath it all. After knowing Haymitch his whole life, Nickel only fully grasped just how sad Haymitch's life was many years later.