tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62094258797233358152014-10-04T19:36:24.386-07:00Ben Bleckleynoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209425879723335815.post-33468147263643488832008-01-11T05:51:00.000-08:002008-01-11T05:57:47.968-08:00She chooses<br />to hesitantly<br />step onto the funeral pyre.<br /><br />It is lit and<br />her teeth clench<br />with pain<br />her eyes open wide<br />with expectation.<br /><br />The Fire burns<br /> for years<br /> for months<br /> for<br /> one moment<br /><br />teddy bears, popcorn vacuums, and Barbie dolls<br />Birthdays at Skate City, play dates, and slumber parties with Best Friends<br />are among the embers<br />as the Phoenix,<br />experienced and tempered<br />Rises,<br />salvaged from the<br />Memories of childhood.Ben Bleckleyhttps://plus.google.com/113450826667408864511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209425879723335815.post-70065390485498549322007-12-07T01:20:00.000-08:002007-12-07T01:24:02.632-08:00<div align="center">I.<br /><br />Frustrated, contained, and chained.<br />Restrictive forms of<br />The Five Paragraph Essay. </div><div align="center"><br />II. </div><div align="center"><br />Creativity and choice:<br />Butterfly rising<br />Free and writing on the wind.</div>Ben Bleckleyhttps://plus.google.com/113450826667408864511noreply@blogger.com0