8.
No one fessed up to taking my watch so I had to go home empty-handed. the worst feeling bro. apple pie is the best pie of all. sitting on the bus ride holding back tears knowing for real that you might get grilled by your mom. but she may not you never know I walk upstairs and tell my dad somebody stole my watch and i was surprised because he wasn’t as mad as I thought he would be. he was actually very calm about it. he just told me,
“come on let’s go we’re gonna go find your watch.”
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Robbie Bale
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family heirloom
6. When I get back in from recess I’m going to my cubby just to look at my watch again. I can’t stop looking at it bro, it’s so pretty. but as I reach into my backpack, I notice it’s not there. I search all throughout my cubby and it’s not there. I’m starting to panic. where’s my watch? I told my dad I’ll guard it with my life and now I just lost it. I come to the conclusion that somebody took it. had to be the kid with the superman action figure. I bet he was just jealous.
By Robbie Bale12 months ago in Poets
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli4 days ago in Poets
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