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This piece will slowly be released. Bit by bit by bit. I'll give you the epilogue. How bout' that?
Camp is The People - Rewriting a Year Later In Poetry Form
Written By Noah Solovey
Prologue/Preview
I woke up to a million sirens, a weird smell of smoke, and crying. What in the world was happening? I thought to myself, what should I do? I was in the middle of a mountain, and three and a half hours away from my parents, at a sleepaway camp. Can this get any worse…
That was how the memoir started, now that I think about it, on my 6th-grade writing teacher’s standards, that had a hook, a background, and kind of a thesis. This is a memoir that is about a, I don’t know how to say it, should I say like, a major event in my life. I guess that works.
I know I can definitely improve my original piece, but sometimes I feel that the original part is the best. I’ve rewritten two articles now, and this is my third. Something about how it’s not the best writing just gives a little ring to the piece, it makes it more memorable.
I don’t want to normally rewrite this narrative, because that would be highly lame. Let’s try doing it in poetry.
I think what I didn’t like about this piece the most was how bland the detail was. This story had the potential to be so telling, and I feel like some parts just aren’t suspenseful and picture painting. I could add so much feeling to this piece if only, there! I should rewrite it.
~~
No, the fire alarms didn’t sound.
No, the counselors didn’t tell us the truth. They told us not to worry, and tried to not let us see the commotion of flames.
No, I didn’t want this to happen!
No, I want to survive!
No, what’s occurring?
No, this isn’t a prank!
No thoughts, please no, stop jumping to conclusions.
No, everyone was not okay!
No, my heart was racing!
No, I heard the crying!
No, the smell of smoke!
No, the dining hall was burning.
~~
The memories sparked in my brain.
From F R E E Z E to wing nights.
Or Parsha, the nice pasta man I saw every day.
It felt like my world was E N D I N G.
I couldn’t process the truth, I wanted it to be a dream.
The memories sparked in my brain.
I remembered my very first day of camp.
I was late.
I walked into the dining hall.
I met my lifelong friends.
Those memories were burning.
The dining hall was burning.
~~
What Would Happen Now?
Was my summer home perished or - g o n e?
Now every routine would be a - new-tine.
The future of my summer home was unpredictable.
Shaken. Myself. My friends. My future. My Summer.
Shaken.
~~
It was more like a hike, rather than a walk with your buddies down the hill.
Memories Burned. The Airy Hill. Did the trees catch fire? Was the good luck brick gone? No no, it was inactive. Memories Burned. The rides. My rides, were because of my medical condition.
The steps on the mountain weren’t gravel like the Hill. It was normal dirt and grass.
Thump
Thump
Thump
Thump.
Then we made it down the “hill.”
Oatmeal.
~~
Tears.
AFTER
Tears.
Tears sparked.
Tears burned.
Chatting with my camp friends was just therapy for my deep feelings.
What if.
AFTER
What if.
Tears sparked.
Tears burned.
~~
Dreams that night were
Deadly
Illustrious
Not Good
Impossible
Nervous
Grand
Harmful
Absolutely Real
Lasting
LATE,
Late to my head. The commotion, the events. Late to my head.
~~
I was of mixed emotion. All negative. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a reality.
The hill. No one knew. That part wasn’t a dream it was a reality.
Counselors cried. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a reality.
Everyone was safe. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a reality.
The future was undecided. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a reality.
We didn’t have food at our camp. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a reality.
It never happened. That part was a dream. It wasn’t a reality.
The dining hall burnt down from a grease fire. That part wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.
~~
The days continued as.
Not normal.
My thoughts continued as.
Not negative.
Life seemed to be continuing as normal.
Just kidding.
~~
The White House.
Camp’s.
The future.
Camp’s
The traditions.
Camp’s.
The uniting between the people.
Camp’s.
The memories.
Flame’s.
~~
Marty said Camp is The People. On national television.
I said Right Now. Back to Marty, at least in my head.
Marty said We must stick together in this time, it’s not the end because of our amazing people.
I said The memories. And Gone.
Marty said No. If the people aren’t gone. The memories aren’t either.
I said This camp is a family. We must stick together. It might have been an amazing place, but
Marty finished my sentence for me the people aren’t gone. The people are here. The help is here. It’s here.
~~
CAMP
CALM, AIRY IS MADE BY THE PEOPLE
~~
Yes, life went on.
Yes, the dining hall has a special place in my heart.
Yes, this was an experience I will never forget.
Yes, Airy is my home.
Yes, they’re building a new dining hall.
Yes, new memories will be made in that one.
Yes, it’s no ready yet.
Yes, for the last few summers, we have used the dining tent.
Yes, it has a name.
Yes, it’s name is the GrubHub.
Yes, new memories have been made there.
Yes, Camp is still a family.
Yes, we remember the dining hall.
But best of all, we remember the memories.
Yes, The Memories Still Dwell Within Us.
Epilogue
That turned out amazing. Though it didn’t include much detail, it did include emotion.
WOW.
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