2nd Requirement

Prose Form
Fiction
A Wise Counting.
Emperor Akbar was in the habit of putting riddles and puzzles to his courtiers. He often asked
questions which were strange and witty. It took much wisdom to answer these questions.
Once he asked a very strange question. The courtiers were dumb folded by his question.
Akbar glanced at his courtiers. As he looked, one by one the heads began to hang low in
search of an answer. It was at this moment that Birbal entered the courtyard. Birbal who
knew the nature of the emperor quickly grasped the situation and asked, "May I know the
question so that I can try for an answer".
Akbar said, "How many crows are there in this city?"
Without even a moment's thought, Birbal replied "There are fifty thousand five hundred and
eighty nine crows, my lord".
"How can you be so sure?" asked Akbar.
Birbal said, "Make you men count, My lord. If you find more crows it means some have
come to visit their relatives here. If you find less number of crows it means some have gone
to visit their relatives elsewhere".
Akbar was pleased very much by Birbal's wit.
Non-Fiction
The Hero
My mother's parents came from Hungary, but my grandfather was educated in
Germany. Even though Hungarian was his native language, he preferred German to all the
other languages he spoke. It seems he was able to hold a conversation in nine languages, but
was most comfortable in German. Every morning, before going to his office, he read the
German language newspaper, which was American owned and published in New York.
My grandfather was the only one in his family to come to the United States. He still
had relatives living in Europe. When the first World War broke out, he lamented the fact that
if my uncle, his only son had to go, it would be cousin fighting against cousin. In the early
days of the war, my grandmother implored him to stop taking the German newspaper and to
take an English language paper, instead. He scoffed at the idea, explaining that the fact that it
was in German did not make it a German newspaper, but only an American newspaper,
printed in German. But my grandmother insisted, if only that the neighbors not see him read
it and think he was German. So, under duress, he finally gave up the German newspaper.
One day, the inevitable happened and my Uncle Milton received his draft notice. My
Grandparents were very upset, but my mother, his little sister was ecstatic. Now she could
brag about her soldier brother going off to war. She was ten years old and my uncle, realizing
how he was regarded by his little sister and all of her friends, went out and bought them all
service pins, which meant that they had a loved one in the service. All the little girls were
delighted. When the day came for him to leave, his whole regiment, in their uniforms, left
together from the same train station. There was a band playing and my mother and her friends
came to see him off. Each one wore her service pin and waved a small American flag,
cheering the boys, as they left.
The moment came and the soldiers, all rookies, none of whom had had any training,
but who had nevertheless all been issued, uniforms, boarded the train. The band played and
the crowd cheered. Although no one noticed, I'm sure my grandmother had a tear in her eye
for the only son, going off to war. The train groaned as if it knew the destiny to which it was
taking its passengers, but it soon it began to move. Still cheering and waving their flags, the
band still playing, the train slowly departed the station.

Form of Poems
Lyric Poem
Well you only need the light when it's burning Staring at the ceiling in the dark
low
Same old empty feeling in your heart
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Love comes slow and it goes so fast
Only know you love her when you let her go
Well you see her when you fall asleep
Only know you've been high when you're
feeling low But never to touch and never to keep

Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go
'Cause you loved her too much and you dive
too deep
'Cause you only need the light when it's
burning low

Staring at the bottom of your glass Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Hoping one day you'll make a dream last Only know you love her when you let her go

But dreams come slow and they go so fast
You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies
'Cause you only need the light when it's
burning low
Only know you've been high when you're
feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go
Oh oh oh no

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow And you let her go

Only know you love her when you let her go Oh oh oh no

Only know you've been high when you're And you let her go
feeling low
Well, you only need the light when it's burning
Only hate the road when you're missing home low

Only know you love her when you let her go Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you've been high when you're Only know you love her when you let her go
feeling low
Only know you've been high when you're
Only hate the road when you're missing home feeling low

Only know you love her when you let her go Only hate the road when you're missing home

'Cause you only need the light when it's Only know you love her when you let her go
burning low
And you let her go
Narrative Poem
Odysseus Decision
The great man turns his back on the island. sea, ar dawn when its pull is stongest.
Now he will not die in paradise What has brought us here
nor hear again will lead us away; our ship
the lutes of paradise among the olive trees, sways in the tined harbor water.
by the clear pools under the cypresses. Now the spell is ended.
Time Giove him back his life,
begins now, in which he hears again sea that can only move forward
that pulse which is the narrative
.
Epics I found the One
Shall we walk From your ribs I am
Souls tied without touch
Your flaws mesmerise my heart Not even death will do us apart
Rolling in a pit of mud Lofty footsteps of art
My thoughts build a hut We walk
Lofty footsteps of art Shall we walk?
We walk
On your heart I knock
Hide and seek
We play
At our flaws
We laugh
Our adversity
We pray
Ripples of waves
From my heart to yours
I waited for the One
Ballad
The butterfly
There was a butterfly that flew down
And rested on your chin fluttering ‘round
But you didn’t brush it away
As your gaze was straight ahead
Unflinching - for you were dead
But the world did not stop
For us called there we did the lot
Your life was ended then
But you see the butterfly did not comprehend
That you were now dead.
Free verse
Disappointments
Every life has a room
where memories are stored:
A box of special occasions here,
Shelves of shared laughter there.
But back in the shadow
Lurks a trunk locked tight,
Not to be opened and searched.
There hide disappointments
Which darken every heart
Sonnets
Sonnet 106
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express’d
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Had eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
Free Verse
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Haiku
An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.

Drama
Comedy Tragedy
Forrest Gump Death of a Salesman
Melodrama Farce
500 Days of Summer The Noises Off

I
Historical Drama
Lincoln

Create your Own

Haiku

Home

It’s ones starting point

 Of everyone’s adventure

Also one’s feat ends

Sonnets
Parent’s Appreciation

The first Inception, a noise was heard

A lovely noise, cures one temper

A troubling ache, pleasure comes forth

A pleasure treatment for one’s discomfort

Time shall come, one shall fall

Fall in, the gruesome despair

Not all, defy this complication

One must heed a parent’s consultation

But life and time still ticks away

All the calendars day

One must haste as long

As long our Fate is still in place

Our gratitude, recognition and thanks

For our parent, Parents appreciation

Free Verse

Forgiveness

No man have cause no sin

Sin that may never be broken

One shall plead for forgiveness

Chances that one must forgive

To the man that cause the sin