D. Aaron Zubik, Dustin Lassiter, Keri Lassiter-Martin, and Jason Zubik
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Madison Street Memories
Tonight I got a call from my Momma Mia;
Saddened by her voice, she told me of the memories she had
on Madison Street.
That house, white and black, today its grey and black.
It used to resemble peace and wholeness,
Now it resembles dark walls and second hand throw aways.
I remember that day in February, surrounded by rustic wood trim.
That house was the beginning of something spectacular in my life,
It has many memories, both good and bad.
I remember the first step into my room, surrounding by shades of yellow.
The first slumber party, my shelf of Baby Sitter's Club books.
This room was my escape from school and adults, my closet was my secret.
My room had 4 windows and the closet had 1.
I love that room and wish in all my power I could replicate the peace it presented.
Tonight I learned the house was for sale again, I peeked online to get a glimpse of my past.
The house was no longer the same, colors have changed.
The exterior used to be white with black shingles, the front screened porch used to have charm.
In the same porch I used to sleep during thunderstorms, the door into the living room was no longer.
It used to have a window of light, now just a dull door with no character.
That house was full of fond memories.
My brothers room led to the attic, where 3 hidden crawl spaces endured lots of pain and fun.
With low ceilings, the attic was an escape for my brother and I, when we wanted to hide.
I got my very first black eye in that attic.
My brother had the coolest bunk beds, often times I used to fall asleep on the top watching TV.
I remember the day we played Echo the Dolphin on SegaCD.
The dining room no longer has all the toys my parents collected, it now stands bare and dark.
The back door used to be white and is now a depressing shade of blue.
The floors throughout are no longer showing wear, they're all ripped up and replaced with bare wood.
Those memories are all gone, the house is no longer the same.
I remember the night I was left in charge with a house full or un-responsible youth.
My brother sipped on too much flavored schnapps, while I pulled out an R-rated horror film.
I remember prank calling our neighbors, not realizing they had caller ID.
That house had some amazing memories
I always said if I could build any home it would be the house on Madison Street.
But as times have changed, I now have my dream home in mind.
It doesn't resemble the house I grew up in, instead it resembles my future memories.
My dream house won't have a laundry shoot that led to the laundry room in the basement.
It won't have a potato or wine cellar.
Instead it will have a walk out basement where new memories will be made.
I miss Madison Street and the memories. I will miss the rustic charm that has now escaped it.
But I am ready to continue creating my own Madison Street Memories.
Saddened by her voice, she told me of the memories she had
on Madison Street.
That house, white and black, today its grey and black.
It used to resemble peace and wholeness,
Now it resembles dark walls and second hand throw aways.
I remember that day in February, surrounded by rustic wood trim.
That house was the beginning of something spectacular in my life,
It has many memories, both good and bad.
I remember the first step into my room, surrounding by shades of yellow.
The first slumber party, my shelf of Baby Sitter's Club books.
This room was my escape from school and adults, my closet was my secret.
My room had 4 windows and the closet had 1.
I love that room and wish in all my power I could replicate the peace it presented.
Tonight I learned the house was for sale again, I peeked online to get a glimpse of my past.
The house was no longer the same, colors have changed.
The exterior used to be white with black shingles, the front screened porch used to have charm.
In the same porch I used to sleep during thunderstorms, the door into the living room was no longer.
It used to have a window of light, now just a dull door with no character.
That house was full of fond memories.
My brothers room led to the attic, where 3 hidden crawl spaces endured lots of pain and fun.
With low ceilings, the attic was an escape for my brother and I, when we wanted to hide.
I got my very first black eye in that attic.
My brother had the coolest bunk beds, often times I used to fall asleep on the top watching TV.
I remember the day we played Echo the Dolphin on SegaCD.
The dining room no longer has all the toys my parents collected, it now stands bare and dark.
The back door used to be white and is now a depressing shade of blue.
The floors throughout are no longer showing wear, they're all ripped up and replaced with bare wood.
Those memories are all gone, the house is no longer the same.
I remember the night I was left in charge with a house full or un-responsible youth.
My brother sipped on too much flavored schnapps, while I pulled out an R-rated horror film.
I remember prank calling our neighbors, not realizing they had caller ID.
That house had some amazing memories
I always said if I could build any home it would be the house on Madison Street.
But as times have changed, I now have my dream home in mind.
It doesn't resemble the house I grew up in, instead it resembles my future memories.
My dream house won't have a laundry shoot that led to the laundry room in the basement.
It won't have a potato or wine cellar.
Instead it will have a walk out basement where new memories will be made.
I miss Madison Street and the memories. I will miss the rustic charm that has now escaped it.
But I am ready to continue creating my own Madison Street Memories.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Top 10 Difficult Literary Works
It's rather sad that I have only read one of these literary works; Naked Lunch... only because his writings are by far some of the far-fetched paragraphs I have encountered. But I do sense a summer reading challenge with the other books!
Top 10 Difficult Literary Works
Top 10 Difficult Literary Works
Sunday, February 19, 2012
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