Anuhea’s Writing

Ode to the Tree

Ode to the tree
That stands so tall
Waiting in the back yard
So noble and wise

Ode to the shade
It gives on a hot summer’s day
Each leaf distinct on the grass
That lies beneath its long canopy

Ode to the branches
That I climb and swing on
Which stack like a ladder
Leading to the sky

Ode to the tree
That stands so tall
Waiting in the back yard
So noble and wise

A Man from Peru

There once was a man from Peru
Who always would lose his left shoe
He checked in the bath
and spewed out with wrath
When he saw it inside of the loo

The One That Speaks

This is a poem that speaks for a thousand
in the frigid silence among the wind,
that shouts and hollers atop grand mountain peaks
because they are lying in the dark
because they refuse to listen.

And when we are heard
people change like leaves in the spring, with a beautiful essence
This is the poem that touches a thousand
and opens their minds and ears to what they are too blind to recognize
a dark gray cloud covering the bright rays of the sun.

Party Gone Wrong

My mother is going to kill me
This party is out of control
There are stains on the new sofa
Our glass vase is in pieces

This party is out of control
The house is completely trashed
Our glass vase is in pieces
The police are at the door

The house is completely trashed
The bass is far too strong
The police are at the door
There’s a stranger in the kitchen

The bass is far too strong
Family photos are being knocked over
There’s a stranger in the kitchen
The police are tied up in the closet

Family photos are being knocked over
There are stains on the new sofa
The police are tied up in the closet
My mother is going to kill me

Jonathan and I

Jonathan was one of those kids who all the girls secretly admired but would not dare tell a soul that they did. He was extremely attractive with a tan and proportionate face, chiseled body, and an amazing smile. But everyone knew him as the son of the town drunk.

We lived in a small town in Maryland near the coast outlined by a border of pines from CHIPAWAH National Forest. Every family owned at least two boats accompanied by a mansion and yacht club membership cards. Jonathan’s father used to be one of the most noble and admired men in the entire town until his wife, a sweet lady, was stabbed and murdered in the CHIPAWAH forest. Everyone knew Jonathan as the abandoned child with the unstable father and crazy life.

I, however, knew him as Jonathan, the cute photographer. It was safe to say that I swooned over him much like the rest of the girls, but I didn’t think that anyone noticed until the night of high school graduation. Our class managed to save enough money to rent out the enormous boat house that sits on the coast, isolated by pine trees. I was having a good time at the party when I noticed Jonathan signaling me from across the room. He motioned for me to go to him, so I did obediently.

“I need to tell you something in private,” he whispered to me.

I nodded my head and followed him as he took my hand and led me outside into the woods. It was so cold and dark, but I could not focus on anything besides what it was that he needed to tell me. Could this be the moment that I had been waiting for since seventh grade, when I first fell in love with Jonathan? Would he finally admit that he has feelings for me as well?

We ducked under a thick evergreen branch and into a clearing that had a cardboard box in the middle of it.

“What’s going on, Jonathan?” I asked in bewilderment

He quickly walked towards the box and stopped abruptly right before he took off the lid.

“I have to tell you something,” he said with some regret lingering in his eyes.

“What is it?” I asked with butterflies fluttering like crazy in my stomach.

“I’ve liked you for a while, and now that school is over, I wanted to make sure that you knew that,” he said without making any eye contact with me.

My eyes grew wide and I took a step back to restrain myself from falling over. I knew it! But what was in the box?

“You see, I know that we will be heading in different directions soon, but I don’t want you to forget about me. So I got you something to remind you of me.”

He reached into the box and pulled out a little while Labrador puppy not more than two months old.

“For me? Oh my goodness he’s so adorable! Thank you so much! I will never forget you…or this dog,” I said excitedly.

I went home immediately after returning to the party that night with the puppy nestled inside the box in the backseat. Honestly, I hated dogs. Red, scratchy patches started growing on my arms and legs that were itching like crazy. It was a very thoughtful gift, but I couldn’t keep him. I guess he didn’t know that I was allergic to dogs.

I went to his house the next day and tried to return the puppy, but he took it as a blunt hint that I didn’t actually feel the same way for him that he did for me.

“No, wait!” I blurted out loud while he was trying to slam his front door in my face.

“I really do like you, but I’m allergic to dogs, and that’s why I can’t accept your gift,” I explained, hoping that he would understand.

There was a long awkward pause when suddenly, he burst into laughter and rolled my right sweater sleeve up towards my elbows unveiling my splotchy red skin.

“I had no idea!” he said hysterically. “But I’m glad that you feel the same way, too. You wanna get something to eat by the pier?” he asked once he finally calmed down.

“Sure” I said blushing and giggling.

From that point on, Jonathan and I were inseparable. We got married and worked for National Geographic. He became a photographer while I wrote articles to match his pictures. Every now and then, we sit on our porch and talk to our kids about graduation night and how their father won my heart by giving me hives.

The Aspects of Life

Life isn’t harmful pollution
and those 2 hours spent in traffic
Life isn’t towering skycrapers
and the slow-running elevator to the top floor
Life isn’t the burning smokestacks
and lung or respiration failure
Life isn’t mass destruction
and the puddle of mud you step in with new shoes
Life isn’t being exposed to radiation
and taking a warm shower with scorching sunburn

Life is the cool drops of rain
and the smell of wet grass after a storm
Life is the picturesque sunset
and the vibrant colors that drape the sky
Life is about loving our home
and the people and creatures that inhabit it


The first thing I hope to change in twenty years is my appearance. At age sixteen, with six missed orthodontic appointments, my teeth are as crooked and jagged as a Jack-o-lantern on Halloween night. I also hope that my nose will regain its normal shape. Due to years of having random objects thrown in my face and running into closed doors, walls, and pillars, the bone in my nose has created a barrier to keep me from breaking it anymore. In twenty years, I hope to at least have grown into that. I also hope that I will pull the plug on my chocolate addiction so that I can trim my midsection to cut off my extra bit of tummy that hangs like a kangaroo pouch. By the time that I am 36, I will have teeth that are straight and aligned like a white picket fence, a nose that does not distract people or stop traffic, and a flat stomach that is as cut and firm as a washboard. Hopefully in twenty years, my methods to madness will pay off.

Shark Pit

Shark Pit was indeed like no other spot on Maui’s west coast. The waves crashed so nicely and consistently, it was hard to believe that this place was, in fact, real. Surfers from all over Maui show what they are really made of by surfing the most ferocious monsters of the sea there. They tear waves to shreds and leave nothing but spray beneath their smooth fiberglass boards. But sometimes, they are swallowed whole by the monstrous wipeouts that sink them into a dark blue abyss. However, Shark Pit was once a surf spot that everyone stayed clear from. Not because of the wildly entertaining waves that formed on the glassy water, but because of the creatures that lay beneath the surface.

Everyone heard the stories of the sharks that resided in those shallow waters. It was simply a forbidden spot that no one would dare enter unless they wanted to unveil the wrath of the ocean’s most vicious predators.

One day, a surfer boy from the opposite side of the island decided to take a trip to the West coast in search of some fresh, new surf spots. As he cast an eye over the crowded beaches, he came upon an empty beach that contained waves that broke perfectly into picturesque barrels. He gathered his gear and made his way towards the rocky shore. While scanning the horizon, he noticed several gray fins. But, he was so passionate and thirsty for those waves, so he paddled out regardless of the rumors people shouted to him from the beach.

He surfed for hours until the sun grew dim. His last wave was the biggest one of the day. He paddled hard, went down the drop, but nose-dived straight into the water. While he swam back to the surface, he noticed a dark figure circling him. It continued for a while until finally, it simply nudged the boy in his stomach with his nose and then swam away.

From that point on, Shark Pit became a popular spot for not only sharks, but also surfers from all over looking for a good wave.

I’m Learning to Be Less Cautious

I’m learning to be less cautious
And I’m learning to act like a fool
And I’m learning to go with the flow
Not to obey, when I hear a new rule
And I’m learning not to nit pick
And I’m learning not to be so neat
And I’m learning (though it sometimes really hurts me)
Not to use utensils when I eat
And I’m learning to not gag
When I see someone eating a Whopper
And I’m learning that it’s much
Much easier to be proper

My Ice Cream Love Affair

I was lying on the beach with my toes in the golden sand
Basking in the warm summer’s heat
Then I saw you pass me by
And I knew a summer fling was on the rise
You were in the palms of another girl
But I really did not care
The looks of your curves made my stomach turn
Butterflies were gallivanting their way around my insides
Sweat ran down your cut edges so slowly
Nonchalantly dripping while she wiped them away
The way you looked so soft and smooth
Got me going on a new kind of high
You were tall, thick, and rich
The type that everyone enjoyed
I swear I had seen you somewhere before
Perhaps a magazine, an ad, or even on the desert menu
Everyone had their eyes on you as well
I could not resist the urge
I was the fish and you were the bait
Luring me towards you
It was a dangerous love affair
I knew that it was wrong for me to want you so badly
It had been so long since I had one just like you
But my mind could not withstand the cravings that I needed to fix
My lips began to quiver
My hands began to shake
The hairs on my neck stood up straight
I started to make my way towards you
Willpower was just not enough
The sun beams hit you in a perfect spotlight
It was destiny-it had to be
For me to find you in such a crowded place
I made my way to the cabana where you were sitting on the counter
I asked for you and I took you by the waist
Quicker and more adroit than a person could ever imagine
I caressed you in my hands and got just a taste
The Hallelujah chorus played and I knew you were the one
But with great delight instant regret and remorse followed
So this, my dear ice cream cone, is how we met and parted
Our love affair shall rise again soon
And I will wait for you once more
For you are my true love, my fix, my ice cream cone

I Run

Every day I run. I run away from problems, friends, school, and I even run from myself. I slip on my tight Nike Air shoes and bend over to touch my toes.

The cool misty air in the morning fogs my path leaving a panorama of white in the once lush and green park. It sends chills up my arms, around my neck, and down my back. Then I start to run.

I slowly get into rhythm – one step at a time. Each stride getting longer and faster. I find that I am far away from where I started. Far from my troubles that have me wondering and questioning all day and night. I run away from the screams and scowls shown at me. I run and run until the point that all of these things disappear and no longer exist in my mind.

As I pick up speed, the cool drops of dew on each individual blade of grass splash on my shins, wiping away the muck and dirt from the path that I traveled on to get there.

I run until my enemies vanish. They are no longer the nagging voice within my mind – constantly comparing me and my accomplishments to the works of others.

Every stride I take forward is one stride further from where I started. I step through fields of short-cut grass leaving shoe prints momentarily. As I continue to move forward, and never back, each print disintegrates and the grass takes its normal shape and form.

While moments pass by, I grow weak and tired. My pace slows down and my strides get shorter. I run a little more until I reach the end of my path. As I near that finish, I begin to reflect on my run and reminisce about the feeling of being untouchable. I take my last few steps and stop. My run is over.

I walk with my hands folded on my head and my eyes shut tight. I can only hear my heavy breathing and the pounding of my heart. I am finally finished.

How to Clean Your Room

In order to clean your pig sty of a room, you need to separate it into divisions. Start with your closet abyss that sends a tidal wave of clothes, dirty and clean, flying across the floor. Do not worry; you will not have to fold every single blouse or shirt in your possession.

First, lift the trim of your floral print bedding skirt and fold it over the base of your bed. Then, shove as much clothes as possible under there. Stuff the remaining clothes into your clothes hamper and leave the sorting for mom later when she goes through your laundry.

In order to clean your room, you must identify every trace of leftover food or candy wrappers hiding in the crevices of your room. Once you find that main food source that has been rotting away, immediately dispose of it. This food source may be in the form of a take-out pizza box, a dirty plate, an empty ice cream shake cup, or even a half-eaten bag of chips. Be careful when you pick up or even approach it because there may be some kind of eight- or more-legged creature lingering near or in it.

In order to clean your room, you must dust or wipe the windows. Instead of searching through tons of bottles of Clorox and Lysol sprays in your mother’s pantry. Just grab an old rag or even a dirty shirt lying on the ground and wipe it around. Continue this process until all of the dust and dead ants are off your wooden wardrobe.

In order to clean your room, your parents should not be anywhere to be seen during the process. As soon as every visible part of your room looks clean, quickly fetch your parents and have them check from the door entrance only. Do not let them snoop around.

Once they approve of your amazing job well done, restrain yourself from opening your closet or drawers or even jumping on your bed too much.


It would take me almost half an hour to shower as a child. An unusually long amount of time for a kid indeed; however, scrubbing all the clumps of mud and grass wedged between toes and dirty fingernails was very time consuming for me.

My mother would always ask me, “Anuhea, I don’t understand why you love playing in the dirt so much. Why don’t you come in the house and help your sister and I bake cookies or play with dolls from time to time?”

The truth was, I loved being outside and playing in the dirt. I would excavate the corners of my backyard with bright red and yellow plastic beach shovels tucked away in the back of my shed in hopes of discovering buried treasures. My obsession with archaeology and nature surprised not only my parents, but the neighborhood kids as well.

“Why are you always dirty?” they would ask me in a voice that would discourage most kids. I never quite understood why everyone thought of me as a crazy little girl. There were so many things hidden beneath the layers of the earth, so many arrays of colorful bugs and flowers yet to be discovered. Still, I never let anyone’s opinion bother me because I loved rolling in the mud and prancing through the grass. It made me feel free and invincible.

Even on long car rides, when I was forced to sit still for long periods of time, I would gaze out my car window at the towering green trees waving at me as if I were a long lost friend. I could not get enough of the rich green forestry, the massive blue sky, and the rippling clear ocean.

Sometimes, I would just lie in the cool, dew-drizzled grass and close my eyes. The whoosh of the wind cutting through each individual blade of grass tickled my ears as it flew by.

My fixation for nature and being outdoors as a child was more than just a pasttime for me, it was the foundation for the type of person that I wanted to grow up to be. I had such a respect for nature and its beauty growing up, that I continue to make it my passion today. People still tend to question why I like to dig in the dirt, and to this day, I reply “Because there still is so much yet to be discovered, so many things to see, smell, and feel. Why would I want to be doing anything else?”

My Enchanted Oasis

I have an oasis. It is in a place that only I know of, and only I am able to go there. My oasis is portable and can be found wherever I choose. It is found deep in the rigid valleys of the Amazon or in the middle of the scorching Sahara Desert. Sometimes, I find my oasis in the locker room during half time when my team is losing or even in the middle of class during an important exam. I am transported there through the impulsive jet streams of dreams flowing across my mind. I close my eyes, tap my heels three times, and drift away towards it. My oasis is my home away from home-a place that I truly belong in.

I have an oasis. It is dreamlike, and enchanted by natural beauty. It is buried with shades of green and blue. Every brilliant aspect of nature that I have ever seen is completely balanced and in perfect harmony. I step onto the magnificent emerald hues of grass blades, each one gently tickling the soles of my feet, and take my first few strides into my oasis. Immediately, bricks topple down from my shoulders releasing all of the pressure and hardships that I am faced with. I take another step in towards my fantasy and another step away from reality. I can smell the freshly sprinkled dew on the grass, the sweet purple and white orchids, the fresh coconut milk, and the mist that floats over the lake in the middle of my oasis. The sun beams down in individual spotlights, accentuating every detail on each leaf flying down from the fit trees in my oasis.

I have an oasis. There is a hammock hung between two skyscraping palm trees that I lie in to ponder the decisions that I must make in life. From here, I can see the astounding waterfall that consistently pours into the small sparkling transparent lake. Each drop of water dances on the surface, breaking the calm and clear water. Surrounding it, are remarkable trees and lush greenery.

I have an oasis. In my oasis, I enjoy rowing this small boat into the middle of the tiny lake and anchoring it there so that I can lie down in it to watch the cotton candy clouds shape shift and gaze upon the millions of stars and constellations at night. Most of the time, I sit down on a soft blanket with a bunch of pillows and read or write until I fall asleep. Another thing I do is swim and dive in my lake and look for shells and treasures hiding in the floor. One thing that I really love to do in my oasis is sing out loud at the top of my lungs like Christina Aguilera and dance around as if I am a member of the Royal Ballet or a break dancer on America’s Best Dance Crew. In my oasis, I am the most talented musical and lyrical genius of all time.

I have an oasis. I never need to worry here. In this place, I kick back, relax, and listen to the soothing music played to me on an infinite playlist. I am comforted by my thoughts of serenity and peace that are never to be disrupted. In my oasis, I am me and only me. There is no pressure for me to be the best student, the best athlete, the best daughter, or the best friend in the world. Here, I am happy, I am accepted, and I am not judged. I sit down on my comfy lawn chair resting next to my lake, kick my feet up, take off my shoes, and relax while sipping a glass of cool iced tea. I have an oasis, and it is truly magical.


As I gaze into the hollow inside of the shell…
First it is a snake skin, color a bit faded, yet the striped pattern remains
And then, it is like a white mountain tip seen from the eye of a radiant high-flying bird
And then, it is like a hot air balloon gently spinning on its axis in the clear sky
And then, it becomes a scoop of creamy vanilla bean ice cream with caramel gently painted in swirls
And now, it is a strand of a woman’s long brown hair with bright blonde streaks
And now, it is a voice that gently whispers secrets of where it came from
And now I am a mere listener

My Survival Dictionary

television (noun)
1. The thing that keeps you from doing your homework every day after school 2. Youre source of light when it is dark 3. The thing that tells you what the weather is going to be.

family (noun)
1. The people who are always by your side 2. The only people who can mock you and get away with it 3. Your reason for being alive and healthy today

ocean (noun)
1. The big blue body of water that surrounds the island that we live on 2. The home of millions of different types of fishes and creatures that can breathe underwater. 3. Where shark attacks occur.

sports (noun) spuh-our-ts
Origin: Jocks
1. The physical activities that your parents forced you to do as a child 2. The reason why the jocks at school are famous and don’t need to do homework 3. What cute boys play.
Synonyms: sweat, soccer, football
Antonyms: sleep, relaxation, no pressure
See: exercise
Sample Sentence: Those guys play a sport, that’s why they’re so in shape.

nature (noun) nay-cha-err
Origin: Mother Earth
1. What surrounds us 2. The most beautiful thing that is being underappreciated today 3. One of the reason why I live in Hawaii
Synonyms: trees, animals, environment
Antonyms: cities, pollution, deforestation
See: serene
Sample Sentence: Nature is so beautiful, yet it is not appreciated.

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