Archive for April 18th, 2013

I love your style of writing!

J Cooper

Chapter VII: Scars will always fade,
But they will never go away,
I try throwing it all away,
But I remember everything,
Because the memory always remains…

Young boy looking through window

The year was 1989 when my parents finally got a divorce, admittedly I didn’t really understand what was going on and like most kids I had hoped it would be only temporary. But it wasn’t  My mother had cheated on my dad, with someone she had told my brother and I was just a friend. Admittedly I was somewhat suspicious when asked my brother and I to be quiet about it. Personally at the time I liked the guy, but I was six and he seemed nice enough to me, so I didn’t have a problem with him. But again I was six, below should be a recording that I accidently made, when I was trying to get my older brother in trouble, by recording him cursing…

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I find this so interesting!



“People with good writing and research skills are rare. People who cross disciplines and read widely are rare. But don’t we need these people for academia to thrive? After all,many times, the greatest innovators are those who bring in fresh eyes and the perspectives of fresh disciplines: they are less likely to be myopic and be constrained by lines of thinking that are area-specific—and more likely to see patterns and connections that are invisible to the insiders.

“The single best training and preparation I could have possibly had for writing my dissertation was the exact training and preparation I received in my career as a blogger and a writer.


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I’m sure you have lot’s to offer in the writing world.Just keep going!

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So interesting!

Room 8 Gracefield School

On Thursday Margret come in to room eight with lots of big boxes. I was amazed with what I saw, she brought lot’s of big boxes and I mean lot’s!

Before we got the plants out we had to get a tarp. The tarp we got was blue. We had to unfold it because it was too small. Once it was unfolded it was too big, so then we had to fold it in half that was Mrs M’s idea.

Then Mrs M wrote our name’s on the cup’s so we knew which one was ours. The cups were plastic and foam, they could break very easily. Before we put the plants in we had to go up to Margret to put some soft soil in. Then we had to make a deep but little hole for the plants. We had to be gentle and careful because we could bruise…

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  • The Dog Ate My Homework

    dog eats homework


    The dog ate my homework
    just like it was kibble.
    He started up slow
    with a cute little nibble
    and then scarfed it down
    with a burp and a snort.
    How was he to know
    that my special report
    was due here this morning
    precisely at 8:00.
    So now it is eaten.
    I’m sorry it’s late.
    But what can you do
    when your dog needs a snack
    and your stapled report
    comes under attack?
    I told him to stop
    but he just wouldn’t mind.
    When my dog is hungry,
    he’s not very kind.
    I’ll bring it tomorrow,
    and you’ll see it then.
    So long as my dog
    isn’t hungry again.

    by Denise Rodgers


    Copyright© Denise Rodgers 

    All Rights Reserved

    Art by Julie Martin

    The second funny school poem in this set tells the same story… from the dog’s point of view!


    Yes, I Ate His Homework

    dog ate homework


    Yes, I ate his homework.
    You think I’m a liar!
    So kind of you, teacher,
    to go and inquire.
    It’s just that when hungry,
    despite what you think,
    there’s nothing more tasty
    than paper and ink,
    unless it’s some slippers
    or brand-new soft shoes,
    or maybe a sheet
    of some basted raw chews.
    I ate all the homework
    and part of the couch.
    There’s so much to eat
    and I’m hardly a slouch.
    So that is my story.
    I’ll swear that it’s true.
    Excuse me for now,
    I have text books to chew.

    by Denise Rodgers


    Copyright© Denise Rodgers 

    All Rights Reserved

    Art by Julie Martin

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I like this!


A patch of warm dirt
in the afternoon sun
long grass as an escape route
a moat in front
what more could a cat want…

I can see you

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We like this!

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There once was a lady named Sue
Who had nothing whatever to do
And who did it so badly
I thought she would gladly
Have stopped before she was through.


There once was a Thingamajig–
Like a Whatsis, but three times as big.
When it first came in view
It looked something like you
But it stayed and turned into a pig.

I once knew a word I forgot
That means, “I am sorry we met
And I wish you the same.”
It sounds like your name
But I haven’t remembered it yet.


There once was an ape in a zoo
Who looked out through the bars and saw YOU!
Do you think it’s fair
To give poor apes a scare?
I think it’s a mean thing to do.

There once was a Martian named Zed
With antennae all over his head.
He sent out a lot
Of di-di-dash-dot
But nobody knows what he said.

There once was a hunter named Paul
Who strangled nine grizzlies one Fall.
Nine is such a good score,
So he tried for one more
But he lost. Well, you can’t win them all!

Speedy Sam, while exploring a cave,
Had what I call a very close shave.
He stepped on a bear,
That had dozed off in there.
I’m glad he was faster than brave.

There once were two back-country geezers
Who got porcupine quills up their sneezers.
They sat beak to beak
For more than a week
Working over each other with tweezers.

Said a salty old skipper from Wales,
“Number one, it’s all right to chew nails.
It impresses the crew.
It impresses me too.
But stop spitting holes in the sails!”

There once was a poor boy named Sid
Who thought he knew more than he did.
He thought that a shark
Would turn tail if you bark.
So he swam out to try it — poor kid!

There was a young fellow who thought
Very little, but thought it a lot.
Then at long last he knew
What he wanted to do,
But before he could start, he forgot.

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