The Rock Hopper

This post comes from my queue because I am in Newfoundland, hopefully having a blast with my travel course!


The Rock Hopper

Agile and fleet,

Hopping stones like the waves they’ve worn.

Adventure says his stance, and confidence say his feet.

This is the place for which he was born.


This poem is about a guy I watched from my writing rock while felling for poetic ideas.

I experimented with short poems while at Pemaquid, mainly because I always get so distracted at the ocean by the beauty of it all. This makes it harder to focus on writing a longer poem.

Time for more pictures! All rocks, of course. What else would I post when talking about the Rock Hopper?

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Barefoot Girl

I went on an inspiration adventure today! I set out not knowing where the road would take me, and ended up going to the Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. Once I was there, I wandered around taking pictures, enjoying the ocean air, scampering about on the rocks, and writing for this blog.

I will be including a few pictures with this poem because I think they are really nice and would like to share them.


Barefoot Girl

The callouses on her feet

Know these stones better than any street

So while others walk in materials man has honed,

Her naked skin plaps against the wave-worn stone.

With tiny bumps on her skin and wind in her hair

She glances in a tide pool and back the seashells stare.

All around her, the salt waves swirl.

Those who saw called me the barefoot girl.


This poem is my attempt at playing with perspective. Let me know what you think in the comments!

Now, time for some pictures.

I apologize ahead of time for the quality of the photos. I only had my phone instead of a quality camera. The phone in question was swiftly running out of battery, thus causing my screen to be too dark for me to see what I was snapping

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The view of Pemaquid Light from the perch I occupied while writing.

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Such a pretty place!

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This is the rock I sat atop while writing.

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I realized that there was nothing in that picture to show you how big the rock was. Here I have drawn a stick figure about my height (5’7”) to give you an idea of how tall it was. It made for a great climb!

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Found this stick just hanging between two sections of stone. I love the reflection it casts on the water!

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Check out how clearly my photos of this tide pool came out! A little bit of glare caused by the sun gave me reason to play with the brightness of the image (I’m not that skilled, I know), but still so pretty!

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Here are some more shells from the same tide pool, just up closer. The original photo was very bright, so I dimmed it down a bit. It’s amazing what basic camera apps can do these days…

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This is pair of shells I found. The bigger one was only about an inch long, if that. I was playing with perspective and angle, and this is what I ended up with. I even got my camera to focus on the inside of the shell more so than the outside.

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Ocean snow.

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This ‘snow’ is really only sea salt that has caked itself to the vegetation. It’s so lovely!


Because I am leaving for my travel course to Newfoundland on Monday, I will be queuing a couple of more poems I wrote today as posting pictures that go along with them. They will be available for the next two Saturdays!

Kat got Bored

Today was not a day for writing, so I decided to do a photo journal of my day instead!

It started out pretty normal. I was up at 5, and laid in bed for awhile. After a shower, it was time to take care of my turkeys!

13234495_1189970407693691_1090933455_oI donned my ancient rubber boots (maybe 5 years old?) for the trek outside. They are big enough that I can wear my sock-like slippers in them!

13214826_1189970457693686_2013491768_oLook at this view! To the right, you can see our pig’s pen as well as the area he once occupied before we moved him down the hill. So green!

13242229_1189970444360354_1445452930_oThis is Sarah McGobbleguts! She is sitting on a dozen eggs. It’s her first time being a momma, and she’s doing such a good job!

13210927_1189970421027023_269507740_oMeet Paul McGobbleguts! He protects Sarah like the big man he is, even though he’s only a year old.

After I fed the lovely couple, It was time for breakfast, courtesy of my mother, and selfies while it cooked!

13234524_1189970441027021_1773311353_oLook at my lovely mother. She wasn’t ready for this picture. Love you, Mum!

13225089_1189970497693682_1631626982_oAnd my father. He had a bit of a cold, but he’s a lot better this evening. He’s so unimpressed…

13234945_1189970454360353_820386587_oCheck out this spread! My mum makes a slaying egg sandwich.

13214917_1189970577693674_294860050_oMy mom’s cat, Chester, staring at me. I convinced Pa to let Mum get a cat my freshman year of college to help her with the separation… She really missed me.

13214809_1189970584360340_352433492_oMy finished sandwich… Yum!

It was only about 8 at this point, and I still had until 10 to go pick up my brother and some friends for a road trip. Time for fun!

13225184_1189970424360356_2146767827_oI fired up my latest audiobook (You should totally check out the Daniel X series by James Patterson), and ventured into pinterest!

13214416_1189970607693671_30210858_oI decided to make bouncy balls using this recipe. This is the Borax and water mixture I made.

13241465_1189970617693670_1452265589_oI decided to try to make purple…

13225153_1189970614360337_1805668749_oLooks like I killed someone… ish.

13230704_1189970624360336_1944384937_oBetter add more coloring…

13234540_1189970634360335_1407735693_oPlop!

13225098_1189970657693666_2107509110_oIt looks like a turd…

13224086_1189970667693665_269362089_oOH GOD IT POPPED!!! I had to take the picture with my nose…

13225253_1189970637693668_733280180_oI fixed it. It still looks like a turd.. Or a prune. I’ll call it a prune…

13211154_1189970671026998_20259600_oThe reality of how my bouncy balls turned out…

13225175_1189970691026996_841774642_oDrove to Portland with my happy sunflower, Frederick, and some friends.

13223582_1189970687693663_167442771_oAt the mall, I was introduced to this shake-like thing. It was pretty darn good. No idea what was in it, though.

13224113_1189970697693662_122060256_oBought my board some stickers!

I finished the day with skating and some friends 13235009_1189970757693656_609463682_o13234626_1189970727693659_933475324_o13241730_1189970741026991_2068607923_o13230926_1189970714360327_1394187827_o13214956_1189970747693657_966970469_o13211023_1189970724360326_618511383_o13214553_1189970707693661_1433895859_o13241678_1189970711026994_1021253825_o

Today was a good day ❤

Ode to Piss

Ode to Piss

Oh, Urine, so warm and sweet,

You live in my bladder, your safe retreat,

Until the day when you’re released

Into the bowl until the tinkling is ceased.

My precious Pee,

You flow so free.

You spill forth from my insides,

Strong then soft like the ocean’s moving tides.

A fragrance so disgusting wafts from you

It’s always a shock, like something new.

I know I’m never alone,

For when I’m down, you’re all my own.

Your yellow-color is like the sun,

It makes me smile until I am done.

I must finish these lines soon

For I’ve held it since half past noon.

So now I leave to feel that bliss

And leave you with this ode to piss.

***

For some reason I have not felt very creative since my last post. Because of this, I decided to rummage through the archives. These archives are even older than where I fetched that strange short story from. As I was digging through my Facebook notes (if you ever want to know more about someone and how they were about 4 years ago and their pictures just aren’t doing it for you, stalk their Facebook notes), I found several old poems, intros to stories, and those copy-and-paste quizzes that most people not only do on their statuses. My search for the perfect throwback piece to share, called “Ode to Piss.”

This poem was created my sophomore year of high school, when my English class was studying Oedipus Rex (the trilogy thing about the guy who kills his father and marries his mother). Our teacher, Mr. Nored (if I remember correctly, he was unable to see the color red, so we made the no red joke all the time), commented that “’Oedipus’ is pronounced ‘edipus.’” Nored also said that if you pronounce Oedipus the way it looks, it sounds like “Ode to Piss, you know, the poem.”

Well, my friends Sam and Bridget, as well as myself, hadn’t heard of that poem, so Sam proceeded to dare me to write an “Ode to Piss.”

This poem received vast approval from my family, so I have decided to resurrect it once again in the form of a blog post. My super lazy day and lack of creativity may or may not be playing a part in this decision as well.

On a different note, I have researched other Odes to Piss, and found quite a few poems, including this one: “Ode to Piss,” which puts my 5-year-old creation to shame.