Writing Corner

[Mullet]

I'm a sucker for good writing. So here I want any original pieces from robotics teams. Songs, poems, stories, satires, anything. I just want to see how creative FIRST is with a pen and paper. I'll post when I get the chance.

[FotoPlasma]

There once was a man from Nantucket...

Well.. let's just say that the stories about him were greatly exaggerated...

[Lauren Hafford]

Okay, so I wrote a college essay for Olin that I really liked, so here it is:

The hot tar burned my kneecaps in Orlando, Florida, as I begged and pleaded on my knees to a man dressed in a black suit riding on a two-wheeled contraption. I offered to kiss his boots; to lick them clean. Then I glanced down, just to make sure there wasn’t a large chance that I would contract West Nile virus or anything like that. They shone back up at me and I could smell the Kiwi shoe polish. I gave him my best puppy-dog pout, but he only said, “If I let you ride, everyone in Epcot will be begging for the same thing!” I looked over, simmering with envy at three of my FIRST teammates who were so lucky as to get a ride on the bi-wheeled scooter. Dejectedly and with my head hung, I stood up and said that I understood. With a slightly smug smile, he leaned forward and scooted away, half of a foot taller than the rest of us and feeling that much more powerful.
The scene faded to Denver, Colorado, five months later. I was in an anonymous metropolitan conference room. I was listening to a speech Dean Kamen was giving entitled “Innovation.” He was riding on the Segway. My eyes followed it, back and forth, back and forth. The memory of my scorched knees reminded me that there’s a fine line between persistence and annoyance, and annoyance is the one that leaves me on the ground listening to the soft hum of the Segway fade away into the distance. And this time, I was determined to get a ride.
After his speech, Dean came to our display table to charge the battery on his Segway. I bent down and quietly asked, “Can…can I have a ride on…It?” He looked up and gave me the same line as he did in Orlando. He wavered at my much-improved puppy dog pout and added, “But if you and I are the only ones in the room and there’s no one else to see us, you can have a ride on it.” It wasn’t likely, but still, I had a chance….there was hope. I kept up my inquiries, but my determination only resulted in Dean saying, “My, but aren’t you persistent!”
Several sidelong glances later, I sighed with resignation as I realized that I wouldn’t get my chance at gyro-chip bliss. But Dean Kamen is a man of his word. As I reentered the building to find the rest of my team, I looked up and saw Dean riding down the escalator on the Segway! There was a post-conference silence in the deserted hallway. Mine was the only voice in the room, and it could have been mistaken for an entire elementary school at recess. Dean dismounted the electronic steed and I mounted it with the joy that makes legs quiver and fingers tremble. It felt alive beneath me, pulsing and rocking back and forth. I felt a primordial urge to bang on my chest (or pocket protector?) and scream my success from the desktops of my geeky world. My less-than-rational side took possession of me and I turned rather too sharply, directly into the man who finally allowed me a ride on his creation. I bet he’ll remember ME at the FIRST Robotics nationals.

lauren

[John Bono]

Ha! You must be joking. You're gonna get swamped, I warns ya. I can give you about 50 pages of my work saved on my hard drive (various short stories and the hefty, still in progress, 20 pages up to this point Metroid Fanfic). Mmmm... good fanfic...

With someone such as myself, who writes when the chance is there and the inspiration is flowing I have to warn you that some of us, whose posts are long and lengthy it would be a shame to post such on here. However, I felt it nessacary to just post a short little story.

Never, ever take an ex-b/f, who is not involved in robotics, near a robotics team that is attending a movie (daredevil) unless you honestly are sure he wont, at all costs, humilate you. I did and had to find out the hard way that some people are just a little too immature. I must also point out that shadow puppets in the movie protector during the credits IS NOT as funny as it seems. Neither is quacking during these shadow puppets.

[John Bono]

Great story, by the way, Lauren.

[Kiwi_queen]

Lips...
There, sitting in perfect
symmetry to the
perfectly placed stars
of your eyes and
that grandly chiseled
nose.
Lips...
Oh! How I wish to
kiss those tools
of pleasure.
They would mix the heat
of your tongue with
the cool of the water
you drink
for a performance of
pure delight.
Lips...
I can imagine the honey
that would come from
your
lips as they meet with
mine.
The sweetness of
your kiss would call my
name and I would be
your one.

~this is one of my most recent poems...'ve got a lot more where that came from ..just lemme know if you want them. ;o)

[MBiddy]

Patriotism

Two planes.
Stark against the rising solar sunburst
Craned neck back to stare up,
Through optic overexposure and searing retinal burn.
The ultraviolet sky.
Serene blue openness.

Two planes.
Rusty engine whine
The harbinger of white flash demolition
Bellies filled with hibernating death seed.
Technology.
Ignorance.
Unknowing passengers.
Never told of the atrocities
Their metal falcon would commit

Two planes.
Unleashing seismic liquid thunder blast.
The sweeping power of God.
Binding chains of wrought iron forged in divinity,
Broken as the floodgates of Hell open.
Flowing shockwaves of destruction rise to break over cities,
Demons pour through twisted portals,
Howling, screams of children,
Pouring flames.

Two planes.
Innocents.
Playing,
Working.
Overcome.
Screaming through super heated air scalding to breathe,
To horrifically burned to run,
Flesh boiling, burning black.

Two planes.
Survivors fleeing,
Stumbling in terror,
Hoping to grasp the comfort of a live hand
Clutch at still warm irradiated ash shadows burnt into a wall.

Two planes.
Never forget.
1945