Allison's Writing

Chatterbox: Inkwell

Allison's Writing

Allison's Writing

OK, I've been on Chatterbox forever, but I STILL haven't posted any of my writing on here, save the Role-Playing Story. Mostly because I haven't had the nerve, and most of my stories are still half-finished. But the other day I unearthed my notebook from the creative writing summer camp I went to this past summer, so I'm putting some of my stuff on here! Constructive criticism, comments, or questions welcome!

All of the following material is officially

copywright by Allison P., February 5, 2009.

And if ANYBODY steals it, I'll hunt them down if it's the last thing I do! (not that anyone on Chatterbox would steal...:) )


This is something called a Praise Be poem that we did in camp. Try it, it's fun!

I'm thankful for sudden rainstorms that drive pouting kids inside, for when the rain clears,

the grass is green, the sky is rainbows, and the air is pure.

I'm grateful for pencil sharpeners, because without them, our ideas would go as flat as our lead,

and besides, what would we be without pencils?

Praise be for bad days, the ones where your hair looks awful, you have detention, you forgot your lunch money and your crush doesn't speak to you,

because without bad days, it would be impossible to appreciate the good ones.

Thank God for little sisters who steal your toys, spill your secrets, read your diary, and generally be as annoying as they possible can,

becasue you know you'll always have someone to love.

Glory be for fresh-smelling, crisp sheets,

as you slip into bed and drift off to dreamland...

I'm grateful for metallic-tasting water from dumpy public water fountains,

peanut butter that sticks to the roof of your mouth;

little old ladies with walkers and stories to tell;

cold sunscreen on burning Florida summer days;

the fact that the world will always keep on turning;

I'm thankful........


I didn't change much from the original, and it's not my favorite poem, but oh well.

Here's a poem we created using the title "I'm Waiting."


I am waiting

As I have been waiting for so long;

Waiting for someone to understand me,

waiting for a person who'll listen to me and share with me.

I am waiting for the one who will laugh with me, smile with me, and give me a shoulder to cry on when the tears just won't stop.

I'm waiting to hear a caring voice,

one that doesn't tease or taunt,

and instead will lift me up to the sky.

I'm waiting to see a grinning face

that doesn't sneer or stare as I walk by -

a face that will make my day whenever I look into it's sparkling, kind eyes.

I sit here, waiting, it's been so long.

What if the person never comes?

The anticipation is like that of a chid's face;

framed, peering out of the window,

waiting for the rain to clear

so they can see the rainbow.

Waiting in anguish, waiting in longing, lying in wait for the dream person I have created in my mind.

I am thinking, rather desperately,

All I need is someone to be with, who will care for me as I care for them.

Just as

all hope is draining out of me

It happens.

A girl walks by, smiling at me.

She stops, asks if I'm okay, invites me to her house,

Inviting me willingly into her life,

and I know

That the waiting is over, finally over,

for I have found

A friend.


This is something called a lie poem, where you tell completely outrageous, unbelievable lies.


At age one, I stunned the world

by writing a symphony, the longest in the world -

Beethoven was nothing compared to me.


At age two, I conquered the world

by commanding my brother's toy soldiers

across three continents.


By the time I turned four, I could fluently speak

289 languages, not including Gibberish and Girl Talk.

And oh yes, that was the year

I proved all of Einstein's theories wrong 

using only a paperclip and a rubber band.


As a five year old, I could hypnotize my brother

into doing or saying anything I wanted him to,

a skill that proved even more useful than

my ability to freeze whole oceans

whenever I felt like ice skating.


When I was eight, I ran for U.S.A president

(and won, of course) but I resigned

after a month -

being President was awfully boring, and I had better things to do,

like invent a new super computer and a never seen before "Room Cleaning Robot".


As a nine year old, I became the first

Queen of the World

and, along the way, discovered a rare gemstone which earned me trillions of dollars.


The year I hit the big one zero,

I celebrated my holding a party in my own private country,

inviting all the important people I knew

(which totaled about 600).


But then, I finally grew sick of everything,

because fame isn't really all it cracks up to be,

so I "retired" to my own house, with my family and toys,

finally settling down and making some friends,

which believe me, 

is much better than being Queen of the World.


There's more, but I have to go do my HW now. 

submitted by Allison P., age 12, Orlando, FL
(February 5, 2009 - 3:22 pm)

Say, Allison, that's not bad. I really enjoyed your "Glory Be" poem, and (being a young writer as well) commend your "I'm Waiting" poem, because most poetry I attempt (which I'm okay at, but eway better at prose) turns out more humorous or sarcastic than emotional, which was what "I;m Waiting" was. Lastly, your Lie Poem was a laugh. I really enjoyed reading it.

Your poems were pretty spectacular and I encourage you to try and get them published. You could try sending them as submisions to magazines or, if you can compile enough, even a short book. Good luck!

submitted by Mary W., age 11, Bordentown, NJ
(February 5, 2009 - 5:00 pm)

Seriously? You really think they're that good! Sweet, thanks! And Admin, do all new threads always drop to the very back?

submitted by Allison P.
(February 5, 2009 - 5:47 pm)

Here's another short poem (once again, copywrighted by Allison P., 2-5-09):

In my pen, I hold the power

to shape the world

to touch hearts

to change lives.

In my pen, I have

the knowledge of the universe

only waiting to be released by my hand

my imagination

my love.

In my pen, I hold

a little bird,

my soul

my passion.

In my pen, I keep


ready to fly.

submitted by Allison P., age 12
(February 5, 2009 - 6:54 pm)

It's great! :) No lists this time, but I really like how you capture the power of writing.

submitted by Lena G, age 11
(February 6, 2009 - 9:25 am)



submitted by Mary W., age 11, Bordentown, NJ
(February 6, 2009 - 1:22 pm)

I know everyone says that everything everyone writes is good, but I really mean it: those poems are awesome, Allison. All of them. Mary W. is right -- it would be great to try and get them published! Although you might run into that problem that I figured out. Anyway, I think they are really, really good.

1. You don't get bogged down with rhymes. Rhymes are GREAT in some poems (like yours, Paige :) ), but you didn't try to do that in these poems, and they're better for it.

2. They make you think. Again, this doesn't work with all poems. Like, if you were writing a poem about a chimpanzee from Mars, you don't have to make them make people think. But these do, and that's good. The 'Praise Be' one made me think about how bad things can be good. And the one with lies made me think about what it would really be like to be famous.

3. They're not too flowery. A lot of poems are, and that works in some cases, but most of the time, simple words are good. Yours were.

I must be a list-a-holic. I'm not sure how many lists I've made on the Chatterbox. Sorry if this bugs everybuggy! 

submitted by Lena G, age 11
(February 5, 2009 - 7:37 pm)

Allison, I really enjoyed all three of them, but the I'm waiting. I liked the most.  I can totally relate to that.  One day, you could definitely make a book out of all the poems.  In the first one, about the sisters, that is perfect!  I think everyone with a little sibling could definetly relate to that.

submitted by Leah G., age 12, Saline, MI
(February 5, 2009 - 7:43 pm)

Aww, thanks everybuggy!!! Smile

submitted by Allison P., age 12, head in the clo
(February 8, 2009 - 7:48 pm)

Wow, those poems are awesome! Wish I could write poems like that...

submitted by Starfire
(February 10, 2009 - 1:41 pm)

Those are good!!  Really good!!  I love them!!!! :D

Every day, before I begin writing, I pour out my thoughts as poetry in my diary.  Some are really pretty (but nowhere near as good as yours!!)!  Buuut, when I can't think of anything, I write about the first object that I see in the room.  One time I wrote about my sewing machine, and another time I wrote about my stereo... :)

submitted by Paige
(February 12, 2009 - 6:03 pm)


submitted by Mary W., age 11, Bordentown, NJ
(February 13, 2009 - 4:29 pm)

Oh my gosh, you're going to make me cry!  "I'm waiting" is me!!  It's so unfair.  Thank you so much for sharing these with us, you have a true talent, I'm amazed.  I am not usually a fan of poetry, I mean, I like some of it, but others sometimes just bounce off of me.  But with this.  *sigh*  I'm honored to know you.  This is Beautiful.  I love all of your poems!!!  It's like you're a prodigy!!!!!!!!!!!  :)

Oh, and just in case you all are wondering why I'm not commenting on yours, it's because I don't go on Inkwell that often. I only read this because Lena recommended it.  So don't feel sad, ok?  :)  Thanks Lena!!!

And ALLISON, OF COURSE!!!!!!!!!!!

submitted by Laura M., age 15, Santa Rosa, Ca
(February 16, 2009 - 2:15 pm)

You're welcome! I'm glad you're on here! :)

submitted by Lena G, age 11
(February 16, 2009 - 6:45 pm)

Thanks so much, Laura; that really made my day! I'm glad you liked them. And once again, thank you very much to everyone who's posted comments.

submitted by Allison P., age Orlando, F, 12
(February 16, 2009 - 7:12 pm)

Actually, only the waiting part is me, I haven't yet found the new friend.  :')

submitted by Laura M., age 15, Santa Rosa, Ca
(February 16, 2009 - 2:16 pm)