Young Writers Society

I swindled that loser
So this guy,
What's his name?
Jack?
Or something like that,
Jack, John, its all the same.

Anyways, I was in the market.
The Mrs. wanted me to bring home a cow and all,
You know how it is.
Well, that's when I came across this guy Jack and that cow of his.
And well, it wasn't a bad cow or anything, but it was kind of small.

I figured it'd be good enough,
But when I asked him to buy it,
He said it was gonna cost me fifty.
Now, that's not such a bad price, but I'm pretty thrifty,
I wanted it free, so I made up some shit.

"Look kid, I'm pretty much broke, but I'll give ya more than you ask.
Ya see, I ain't got a job, afterall, I'm getting old,
But I got these beans, see?
And I swear on my life, these beans are magic beans!
You just plant 'em and they turn to gold!"

Well the fool gave me his cow, and like I said, it wasn't great,
But hell, pickers can't be choosers.
I saved fifty on that cow,
I'll think I'll head home now.
Not a bad day, I swindled that loser.

Beauty and the Beast
(as portrayed by RachelLeeAnn)

“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting.”
We’ve all heard these common words.
But in the tale I’m here to tell,
“Beauty” is what this man preferred.

He’d been called superficial; shallow,
but he didn’t pay that any mind.
A girl with no physical flaws or faults,
that’s what he was seeking to find.

Now, you and I know that there is no such thing:
the notion of perfection is ludicrous.
But he would tear down those who weren’t,
stripping them of their humanness.

A real beast, he truly was; a soulless, heartless animal.
A lustful creature, with seemingly no shame.
A cunning witch gave him what he deserved,
and he transformed as she spoke his name.

“As ugly as you are within, that now will show through.
You are filth. You are vile. You are scum!”
No longer was he handsome or fetching.
How grotesque and monstrous he had become!

He ran away into hiding,
for fear someone would see his face.
But then one day, he saw her from afar.
She was a walking image of grace.

When he finally met her, he was a changed and humble man,
and she accepted him for his newfound kind heart.
She extended to him her love and grace
thus, giving him a fresh new start.

A true love’s kiss reversed the curse,
and at last, he was released.
And that, my friends, is the tale
of Beauty and the Beast.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Am I not pretty, am I not fair?
Would not the silkworms spin lust with my hair?
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
How did this happen, and why is it now?
This babe flushes my face, her sweat lies on my brow.
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
A porcelain doll breathes anew in my arms.
My beauty hers, I am roused to alarm,
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I sent a guard with a knife to bring back her heart.
That I gave her life; it rips me apart,
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I'm told she is dead, and I feel no regret,
For the heart I was given was none I beget.
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I disguised myself old and a feeble mistress,
I gave her an apple which caused her distress.
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
She gorged on an apple with cider on her hands,
Until the poison on her tongue made its brand.
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Now who is the fairest, most beautiful of all?
The wretched fallen, or she who caused her to fall,
Mirror, my mirror, my one, my all?

I
Stained sunlight clambers through windows;
a christening and a rose earn golden blessings.
Forgotten invitations garner curses,
but an afterthought cures all.
(trade sixteen years of imported fabric
for a century of slumber)

II
A solitary spinner weaves high in the castle;
needle arms pull fleece through doom.
Ignorance is never bliss
when spiders lurk in corners,
waiting for naivete.

All passes in the mists of pleasant dreams.

III
Spindle-pricked, she lays somber
on luxury faded from sunlight and evaporating hope.
Her hair resplendent upon a gilded cushion,
she– sleeps?

The enchantment has faded; gray skin is outlined
by mocking gold, a gaunt visage emanating the hollowness
that comes with stagnating air and waiting too long.

A century is a long time. A kiss
is out of the question.

Blue cloak sweeps around the corner;
as easy as it was to climb the tower,
it is easier to depart.
touching nothing,
he leaves only a swirl of dust motes
and a subconscious ache of desperation.

His clothes were where his heart was,
And where his pocket book lied.
Vibrant colors of purple, blue and gold,
Decorated the lining of his splendid coats.
Wardrobe after wardrobe rested in his golden halls,
And each robe was worn for a new day.


His weavers put their hearts into their work,
Burning their energy and candles low.
Needles and thread stitched throughout the night,
For the emperor needed his new coat by morning.
Otherwise, he would have to wear one that wasn’t new,
And that would shame the entire country.

He was the emperor, the headman.
Hoity-toity was his specialty and clothes were his passion.
Each day brought new styles and new thread,
To be weaved together into the Emperor’s New Clothes.

One day, while he sat on his marble and golden throne,
Two men in stunning robes asked to see him.
“We have a proposition,” they told him,
With cunning and happy smiles.
“We will create a set of New Clothes for your majesty,
And decorate them in the most elaborate ways possible.
But these won’t be just a normal set of robes!
They have the power of knowing.
Of the courtiers and ministers you have around you,
Which ones do their job faithfully and well?
How can you be sure?
These clothes can only be seen by those who are fit for their duty.
Those who fulfill their duties to you rigorously,
For the good of you and your country.”

Astounded, the king ordered them to begin work,
But first, they required gold as payment and thread to weave.
The emperor gave them all they required to build it,
And waited anxiously for his robes to be finished.

And they sat in a room by candlelight,
Just like their predecessors did at night.
Everyone tiptoed past their place of work,
While they heard the endless sound of weaving.


When the time came to inspect their handiwork,
The emperor became worried and began to chew his nails.
Soon they were little stubs, bitten off to nothing,
And he looked for something else to play with,
And began tearing his hair out in anxiety.

What if he came there and he couldn’t see anything?
Was he unfit for his duties?

Being too embarrassed to be the first,
He sent many men of lesser status to inspect the work.
“Oh my! Is it beautiful,” they assured him,
Their eyes twitching with nervousness while they spoke.
“The colors flow like a rainbow intermixed with waterfalls,”
They said, attempting to say the most elaborate words.
“It truly is the most magnificent piece of art ever seen.”

That only added to the emperor’s excitement and worry,
And he trembled on his throne, hoping to be told it was finished.
He played dress-up with his children, and waited.
He dressed in his clothes for the next day, and waited.
And then finally, after needing much more gold and thread,
The two men beckoned to him and he came to see.

They led him to their chambers,
Where their work was displayed on an oaken table.
He opened his eyes and looked at the table,
And saw nothing.

He closed and reopened his eyes,
Just in case his contacts were messing up.
The truth remained clear to him,
And he realized that he only had two possibilities.
Either he wasn’t doing his job well, like a good emperor,
Wearing his robes like they should be,
And flicking his hand out at annoying people,
Or the two weavers were phonies.

But since he had been raving to everyone,
Like everyone does when getting a new suit,
He had no choice but to wear it.
Besides, since he was no doubt not fit for his duty,
Everyone else would see how wonderful it was!
He fitted the silken robes on,
Imagining the soft fabric slipping over his shoulders,
Even though all the while, they were bare,
And then he went out to show the queen.

Such gasps of wonderment and exaltation!
The queen exclaimed that, “It’s so beautiful,”
And her nearby maid said it was a fitting garment.
But when she curtsied, he noticed her blushing,
And so he ordered her to be removed from the castle.
After all, she wasn’t fit in her duties, now was she?

He swept out of the castle in glory and splendor,
While trumpets played a majestic tune to his name.
There was no better day for a parade in the city,
And he wished to show off his New Clothes to all.
He knew that everyone else had to see them,
Because he knew, even though he couldn’t see them,
That truly, they were marvelous clothes.
After all, it took so much money and thread to weave!

The chamberlains stooped to lift his hem,
And so the procession in the city began.
Citizens stopped their busy work,
And leaned out their windows and ran out their doors.
They each wanted to see, “What is he wearing today?”
“Am I fit for my duties, as I believe?”

The procession swept by in great haste,
For the emperor was growing cold.
The entire city needed to see the great work,
And what the two weavers had spun.

The citizens cheered and shouted,
Each cries being louder than the first.
It seemed as though they all saw them!
He realized that he really was wearing clothes.

He raised his head high and continued to march,
For he knew now that his clothes were real.
They were vivid and beautiful, just like they said,
He just couldn’t see them draped around himself.
But just when he began to finally smile,
A bead of cold sweat dropping down his face,
Everyone heard a young, shrill voice of a young kid.
It rang loud and clear throughout the crowd.

[/I]“But he hasn’t got any clothes on! He’s naked!”[/I]

And with a horrible shock and a lurch,
The emperor knew the young child was right.
But the show had to go on and he couldn’t just quit.
So he marched on through the dark brick streets,
While the wind ruffled the imaginary cloak against his backside.

Once there were three little pigs,
Bob, Bob and Bob were their names.
They were all owners of oil rigs,
And they all lived on the same conveniently easy to find dirt road.

There is also a big bad wolf!
He owns a rival oil company!
Filled with lots of wolfs!
All hungry and eager for porkish food...

So one day the wolf and his wolfish henchman,
Set down the pigs old dirt road.
And called upon his benchmen,
To rest his explosives and gear upon.

He found the first house, it was made of sticks!
The wolf thought,
He's taking the mick!
And blew the house up.

Next he found the second house, it was made of bricks!
The wolf thought,
I'd like to throw a brick at him!
So he threw a brick at the poor pigs head.

Next he found the third house, it was made of...
Heavy duty steel!
The wolf thought,
I'd like to cook him for my meal!

Now the angry third pig saw the wolf,
He poked his head out and ragedt,
I'd like to blow his head off!
I'd like to avenge my brothers!

So he pulled out his assault rifle,
And shot his head clean off.

And now children, that is why,
Don't mess with pigs.

They say home is where the heart is.
So closer to you we move, Yasuko.
The girls are so excited.

An old house in a valley with a forest.
It's full of susuwatari, in need of many repairs,
But I'll make it a good home, you'll see.

Mei's already making new freinds.
She says his name is O Totoro.
He has two little totoros with him.

The Keeper of The Forest
Hasn't visited again, yet.
Mei's very sad that we can't meet him.

The girls can't wait to see you.
I'll be there soon.
But they have school to keep up with.

Satsuki saw O Totoro,
When waiting for me at the bus.
She gave him my umbrella.

The girls both had a crazy dream last night,
The seeds that O Totoro gave them
Sprouted into a giant tree.

And sure enough this morning
The seeds that they had planted sprouted.
But there wasn't any giant trees or dancing.

Mei's gone missing.
Satsuki said she was dissapointed
That you wouldn't be coming home for awhile.

We found Mei back home last night.
With stories of cat shaped busses and corn.
Satsuki said she asked O Totoro for help.

And now that you're better and coming home
I'm left to wonder,
Who is this O Totoro?

I was born the fairest of them all,
rose lips, ebony hair, skin like December snow.
My mother's last words: "She is perfect".

Father wed a woman who was pale and fair,
but Time scrubbed away at her beauty
as it made me blossom.

"Oh Mirror on the wall, say that I am fairest!"
But mirrors cannot lie, so she punished me daily.
With all those bruises, I could never outshine her.

At last I ran, far away where she can't see me,
found refuge with seven dwarves,
but sadly mirrors haven't learned to lie.

The apple looked most fresh, so I bit
and now I lie in this glass coffin, breath shallow,
hoping the prince will find me soon.

The coffin opens, my heart struggles to lay dormant
as a kiss brings rosy red back to my lips.
In my rescuer's arms, I am safe for a moment.

"Cut cut cut!" The director yells. "That was terrible!
Jesus, Paul, at least pretend you like her!"
My sweet prince drops me, for the lying lens is off.

I go home to the dwarves, fighting over niche roles,
pour a drink for Mother Dearest, may she never find LA.
"Oh Mirror Mirror, say there's a prince for me."

Cinder

Cinder was a common maid,
who unfortunately was also a slave.
Her mistress was her mother-in-law;
Her step-sisters laughed with open maws.

One day, there came an invitation
to a ball for all the girls in the nation.
They were to come from far and wide
for the Prince to choose a bride.

Cinder wanted to go, but began to despair;
what finery did she have to wear?
Then her fairy godmother appeared,
and told her to have no fear.

"You must be back by ten;
if by eleven, you'll catch it then!"
Her godmother admonished.
Cinder nodded, still astonished.

With a wave of her fairy hand,
Cinder wore a dress so grand.
On her feet were slippers of glass,
and she went to the ball bold as brass.

She and the Prince danced through the night
Until the clock struck 9:30 and Cinder left all affright.
The Prince wanted to ask the name
of this fair and lovely dame.

As Cinder ran, her shoe slipped off onto the stair
and the Prince found it lying there.
At 10, Cinder’s fancy dress vanished,
and all her thoughts of him were banished.

The slipper, too, had gone,
leaving the Prince pale and drawn.
He vowed to never be wed,
For his heart felt like lead.