<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:33:54.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creative Aries</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114720233148320140</id><published>2006-05-09T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T12:18:51.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Describe an act of rebellion in your life that was necessary…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An act of rebellion that I did and felt was necessary was the time I ran away from home. I have three reasons why I felt this act of rebellion was necessary. My first reason is my mother and I do not have a very close relationship. When I was younger I stayed with my grandmother most of the time because I was a very sick child. So by me staying with my grandmother I became very attached to her. I knew whom my mother was I just did not understand why I was staying with my grandmother and not her. While I stayed with my grandmother I used to do a lot for her like on mothers day I would give her all of my gifts instead of giving them to my real mother. When I did stuff like that I think it made my mother upset. My second reason is I don’t like authority. I don’t like to listen to my mother I feel that she I too over protected and she doesn’t want me to do anything. I think that is my father's fault because he lets me get away with a lot. So I look at the situation like if I don’t listen to my father why should I listen to my mother. My final reason for running away is I tried to grow up way before my time. I was only sixteen and I felt that I did not have to listen to anyone. The only person that did have some kind of control over me was my grandmother because I appreciate her a lot for everything that she has done for me. Even though I felt this act was necessary I regret that I ever did it because it really hurt my mother and she was very worried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114720233148320140?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114720233148320140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114720233148320140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114720233148320140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114720233148320140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/05/describe-act-of-rebellion-in-your-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114711637589071742</id><published>2006-05-08T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:26:15.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Role models are important to young people because…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Role models are very important to young people because young people need positive people to look up to. When some young people see a positive person they want to be like them. So positive things should be done around young people at all times and that young person will turn out to be so much better. Role models are important because young people tend to follow sometimes instead of leading. If young people see someone doing wrong they are going to feel like it is okay for them to do what they see being done wrong. But if they see an older person doing the right thing they may feel that they want to follow that persons foot steps. Role models are important to young people also because sometimes their minds are not fully functioned yet to teach them what is right and what is wrong and they need some one older to guide and to teach them right from wrong. Role models can also be used as guidance to young children to just sit down and put some knowledge in their brains. Role models are also important to young children to help build their self-esteem. Young children love to tease one another so at times they need someone older to explain to them that they are beautiful and everyone is not perfect. Role models often sometimes are the reason young children grow up to be successful people because they found someone who has their life on the right track and they learn from them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114711637589071742?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114711637589071742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114711637589071742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711637589071742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711637589071742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/05/role-models-are-important-to-young.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114711489916106404</id><published>2006-05-08T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:01:39.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The one thing I fear but still admire…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that I fear but I still admire is life. I fear life because of the type of environment that is around me. Every day on the news you hear about teenagers getting shot, raped, kidnapped or killed. When I watch the news I sit and think like that teenager could have been me. I also fear life because I have to learn how to become independent. It was nice when I was staying with my mother and she cooked for me all the time or bought all of my clothes and just provided me with all my special needs. Now that I am a teenager I have to let all of that go and learn to live on my own. I fear the whole fact that I have to get out in the world and live on my own. I fear that I now have to get my own place and pay all my bills and provide for myself. When I think about all the good things in life that have happened to me it makes me admire life. I admire life when I think about my family. My family is very kind-hearted and supportive people. My family always encourages people that they can do any thing they put their minds to. I also admire life because the life that God has given me could be a lot worse. I could have been given the life that most kids hate that they have. I could have been the child who was abandoned at a young age or the child that never knew their parents or the child who didn’t listen to anyone and chose the wrong life to live. But instead god has blessed me with a loving family, clothes to put on my back everyday, and a good education. Those are the reasons why I both fear and admire life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114711489916106404?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114711489916106404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114711489916106404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711489916106404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711489916106404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/05/one-thing-i-fear-but-still-admire-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114711478542077948</id><published>2006-05-08T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T11:59:45.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One thing that should have changed that didn't…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that should have changed that didn’t, is the way my mother treats me. I feel that me being older than my younger brother I should be able to do more than he does, but my mother treats us the same and that really bothers me. When I turned sixteen I felt that a lot of things should have changed but it didn’t. I felt that me being sixteen I should be able to stay on the phone longer than my little brother we both had to be off the phone at nine o' clock. So I decided to talk to my mother about it she just told me when I pay the phone bill I can stay on it as long as I wanted to. Being sixteen I still couldn’t wear certain clothing that I felt I should have been able to wear. I just felt like my mother didn’t want me to grow up. All I wanted her to do was to give me different privileges from my little brother. I use to feel bad being around my friends and seeing all the things that they could do that I couldn’t but I just stopped worrying about it and I couldn’t wait until I turned seventeen. When I turned seventeen I got in trouble a lot because I thought I was grown but my mom didn’t look at me that way every thing was still the same except for the phone situation I had a cell phone at the time. At seventeen I got tired of having to explain my self to my mother every time I wanted to do something. I would come in the house with a flyer to a party that was coming up and the only way I could go is if she dropped me off and came in to see what was going on me being seventeen that was really embarrassing. Well now I am eighteen and I still feel like a kid hopefully she will loosen up and let me grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114711478542077948?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114711478542077948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114711478542077948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711478542077948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114711478542077948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/05/one-thing-that-should-have-changed.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114366319282931634</id><published>2006-03-29T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T12:13:14.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sausage and Beer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I thought the story was pretty good. Thinking about my own experiences in life did help me get interested in the story. My dad has a gay uncle and i never knew who he was and my dad never mentioned him until one day when he took us to meet him. I think my dad never mentioned him because he was imberessed. Yes i did feel like the boy in the story because i didnt know how to act around him because most of the gay people i see are at school so i dont have to be bothered with them so i felt weird around my uncle because i didnt know what to say to him. The author made the character interesting to the reader because the little boy kept imagining how his uncle would look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114366319282931634?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114366319282931634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114366319282931634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114366319282931634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114366319282931634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/03/sausage-and-beer-i-thought-story-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114314594193059143</id><published>2006-03-23T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T12:32:21.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Character Description&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jody from the movie baby boy is a young man that lives in Long Beach California. Jody is having a difficult time with his life he has to children with different mothers and the two women do not get along. Jody does not have a job so he can barely take care of his children. Jody is a street pharmacist so he often has a little money in his pocket. Jody's big problem is he still wants his mother to take care of him and all his mother wants him to do is grow up and take care of his responsibilities like a man. I think Jody is a dynamic character because he can and he does change depending on the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114314594193059143?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114314594193059143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114314594193059143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114314594193059143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114314594193059143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/03/character-description-jody-from-movie.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114193577881516917</id><published>2006-03-09T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T12:22:58.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Baby Boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The setting of my favorite movie takes place in Inglewood California. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On the streets of Inglewood you can smell gun smoke, weed, and burning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;rubber. In Inglewood you will see boys riding bikes, you will see nice cars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;with nice rims. You will hear gun shots, loud music, and police sirens. You will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;feel the heat frrom the blazing sun while walking down the sidewalk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114193577881516917?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114193577881516917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114193577881516917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114193577881516917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114193577881516917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/03/baby-boy-setting-of-my-favorite-movie.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114184899245144870</id><published>2006-03-08T12:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T12:22:40.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A writer can create suspense in a story by first appealing to the sentence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A writer can also use flashbacks and take the readers mind elsewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A writer can use foreshadowing when writing a story also.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114184899245144870?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114184899245144870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114184899245144870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114184899245144870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114184899245144870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/03/writer-can-create-suspense-in-story-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-114011978787819760</id><published>2006-02-16T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T11:56:27.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tamica Shackelford&lt;br /&gt;2/15/06&lt;br /&gt;6th hr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Never be ashamed of your subject, and of your passion for your subject.&lt;br /&gt;2. Don’t be discouraged!&lt;br /&gt;3. Don’t cast sidelong glances, and compare yourself to others among your peers!&lt;br /&gt;4. Writing is not a race. No one really "wins".&lt;br /&gt;5. Read widely, and without apology.&lt;br /&gt;6. Read what you want to read, not what someone tells you you should read.&lt;br /&gt;7. Immerse yourself in a writer you love&lt;br /&gt;8. Give yourself up in admiration&lt;br /&gt;9. Don’t be ashamed of being and idealist&lt;br /&gt;10. Don’t too quickly prejudge classics&lt;a href="http://www.art.com/asp/sp.asp?PD=10045565&amp;amp;RFID=361181"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-114011978787819760?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/114011978787819760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=114011978787819760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114011978787819760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/114011978787819760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/02/tamica-shackelford-21506-6th-hr-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-113865378181460817</id><published>2006-01-30T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T12:43:01.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi my name is Tamica Shackelford. I am 17 years old and I was born in St.Louis Missouri. I attend Hazelwood East and I am a senior this year. I like to talk on the phone and hang out with my friends at the mall on the weekends. I am very nice I like to make people laugh I am quiet at times depending on the type of people I am around. I like english it a very easy subject. I plan on graduating and going to Arkansas State with my other relatives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-113865378181460817?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/113865378181460817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=113865378181460817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113865378181460817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113865378181460817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/01/hi-my-name-is-tamica-shack_113865378181460817.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-113865255036387982</id><published>2006-01-30T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T12:22:30.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1.  Do You Love Me: Written by Robert Wrigley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you Love Me is a poem written by Robert Wrigley I like this poem because sometimes when you feel like you are unloved you may have to turn towards another species to look for love and this girl chose to turn to her pet dog for love. Even though the dog may really and truly love her he can not express that because he is a dog. Sometimes people need love and not just from humans. It would be great if your dog could really show you that he or she loves you but they cant. It seems like the girl in the poem just doesn’t understand or realizes that the dog is not going to respond. The poem is basically about a girl who is sitting on her porch with her dog and she turns to ask the dog if it loves her. The dog is not responding it just sits, and wiggles and leaps around so she grabs it by the collar and repeats do you love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  2  She Didn’t Mean To Do It: Written by Daisy Fried&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t mean to do it is a poem written by Daisy Fried. I like this poem because I can kind of relate to it. When your angry you tend to do things and you don’t really realize what your doing until it is done and over with. Then when you finally realize what was done you regret that you ever did it. I also like the poem because the author never actually stated what the girl had actually done you just know that she did something bad that she didn’t mean to do and that it was done out of anger and now she obviously regrets it. So when I finished reading the poem I wanted to know what it was that she did. The poem is about a girl who has done something that she didn’t mean to do. Now the author of the poem just describes the different emotions that the girl is feeling now that she has made her mistake and the poem just keeps on stating that the girl was sad and she didn’t mean to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-113865255036387982?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/113865255036387982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=113865255036387982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113865255036387982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113865255036387982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/01/1.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948468.post-113778919048176919</id><published>2006-01-20T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T12:33:10.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These are 10 poems I have read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Courage/ Anne Sexton/ &lt;a href="http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/annesexton/"&gt;http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/annesexton/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Prayer/ Edwin Markham/ &lt;a href="http://www.bartleby.com/104/7.html"&gt;http://www.bartleby.com/104/7.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer I was 16/ Geraldine Connolly/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/003.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/003.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetry/ Don Paterson/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/027.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/027.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you love me/ Robert Wrigley/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/032.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/032.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t mean to do it/ Daisy Fried/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/037.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/037.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love poem with toast/ Miller Willams/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/052.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/052.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my daughter/ David Ignatow/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/064.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/064.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To a daughter leaving home/ Linda Pastean/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/075.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/075.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break/ Dorianne Laux/ &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/180.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/180.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948468-113778919048176919?l=creativearies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/feeds/113778919048176919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948468&amp;postID=113778919048176919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113778919048176919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948468/posts/default/113778919048176919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativearies.blogspot.com/2006/01/these-are-10-poems-i-have-read-courage.html' title=''/><author><name>Mica-Pooh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09039889984575696874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
