Hope

Jon went upstairs. He dragged his feet to the hidden corner where the school supplies were located. He opened the drawer with all his might, only finding resistance from a 90 years old piece of furniture. He pulled a little harder and it fell out, letting dust fly throughout the air and causing him to sneeze. There it was. No, not some hidden treasure or a million dollars he was hoping to find. Instead, loose-leaf paper, binders, pens, and even glue stick. Not exactly what he thinks of paradise. He takes his tiny book bag off his back and starts to pile in small amounts of each supply. He packed lightly hoping that the first day of school would go by quickly. In and out.

It was because he didn’t understand the world. It went by too fast for his brain to comprehend any information. Words flew by like the wind. Books were aliens to him. He felt like he didn’t understand a single thing. He memorized his schedule, not with zeal like most of his other classmates had done. He wasn’t looking forwards to English. That was his absolute worst class he was taking. Jon felt English was his second language, which is pretty weird considering he was raised in America.

He packs everything together, and before he goes downstairs, he closes his eyes. He hopes this is his year. That this will be his year he makes his parents proud. That this is when his parents hug him for getting Student of the Month. All his life his parents have yelled at him for bringing home D’s. It was a clear disappointment especially when his brother was a star student and President of his grade.

The day comes and he wakes up. First class he has is Art. He sits down. His teacher is happy and is singing and dancing. He even dresses up in a batman costume. Jon is happy and flies through the day. As time passes by and the year goes on, Art becomes his favorite subject. Not because he is good at drawing, but because of the teacher. The teacher is kind and understanding. The teacher is a new one and he is inspirational. He shows the students to have fun in school and the road to succeed. Jon is not doing well in his other classes. As the time comes the art teacher takes a special interest to Jon. This teacher goes to every other teacher Jon has and tries to see what is happening. The art teacher finds out that Jon has dyslexia. The art teacher then takes time out of his lunch period to train Jon. By the end of the year, Jon is at the top of his class. Jon has received his first A+ in Art and his English skills are solid. Jon is grateful that he has had this teacher and decides to paint his teacher a painting. Jon gives the teacher the painting and the art teacher tells Jon something he never knew. The art teacher also has dyslexia. Jon found hope in a place which dispersed it.

Home sick

You wake up with goose bumps all over your back. Your neck feels like it was used to fry the hamburgers for breakfast. Your eyes are itching and you want to keep them closed. You know that you are home alone because your parents are out of town on a business meeting. You put on your house slippers, go to the phone and call the school attendance office. You tell the sweet lady “My son, Craig, is out sick with a high fever.” Your voice sounds like it is of forty years of age.

You head to the kitchen to swallow a bottle of Robitussin. You love the watermelon flavor and it makes you feel better instantaneously. You don’t feel like going to school and don’t want to deal with explaining why your “parents” called in sick when you are in fact in perfect shape at school. You grab your jacket and head outside. It is 68 degrees and sunny outside. It is a perfect day for a nice walk around the block. You head north because you know that if you head east you are going to have to deal with Mr. Wilson and his long disastrous talks about the Gulf War. You want to be alone. You don’t want to get caught. You feel the breeze lift your hair and part it to the left side. You feel like you are gliding on the pavement. You watch children pile onto the school bus and you smile to yourself. You get to relax today.

As you turn the block you see a man in black checking out a house. You freeze. You feel the sweat start to swarm you. You realize that it is your house that he is peeking into. You hide behind the tree, eying him. You look around. You see no one. It is just you and the robber. You peek even more and try to find Mr. Wilson. Maybe he can help you with his Gulf War skills. You are scared.

You take a deep breath. You say a little prayer. You open your eyes to see the robber climbing into the downstairs window. You take furious steps towards your house. You open your front door and get your cell phone near the kitchen table. You hear furniture being thrown around. You sneak back outside and you call 911. They tell you emergency services are being contacted and you should stay safe. You think to yourself: “What is downstairs?” You have an “ oh shit” moment. You left your parent’s safe open after you took 100 dollars to buy yourself dinner for the week. You see a lacrosse stick. You take it. You put on your gear and you rush downstairs. You yell like a Native American hoping for rain. You attack him from behind and he falls. You hear the police outside. The man tries to get away but you slice him with your stick. The police come. They take him away. You call your parents. Your parents are coming home.

Let's Mix

Party in the boardroom
with Secretary taking notes
listening on details
about the marketing plan.
It's the grand mix
the money maker
the grand chihuahua.
Sweat from excitement
about the next new thing
is ringing
phones across the earth.
Four ideas banging
together
to create a vision
and a dream come true.
Balloons are being filled
and oxygen is being sucked
as the four p's mix together
to create life.
Here it is-
brand new house with
a scenic view of the Pacific Ocean
and built with purple marble
in California for only
300,000 fresh Benjamins with a
sick new commercial to
draw in many clients.
This is it.

3 months
2 days
6 hours
4 minutes
39 seconds.
Time spent creating
this lovely salsa fest for
the real estate business.
Men in ties
creative thinking hats on
using computers to build
a pathway for an upcoming product.
The people who see this magic
are the ones who understand what
it means to be a marketer.
It is not easy
Ever day
different pains
arise from
missing Washingtons
and stupid Sistine Chapel's of
California.
However we have
come to this
This is it.