Here are my memoir poems and journals
Little Red Riding Hood, The Wolf’s Tale
By Alex Pardo
(Based on the tale of Little Red Riding Hood by Brothers Grimm)
I am Wolf wandering in the wood.
I see a girl who is wearing this red hood.
She looks like she’s on a mission carrying a little basket.
Strutting on like a peacock while making quite a racket.
So being curious, I walk to her and ask her this,
“What are you doing in these parts all alone?” I say with a hiss.
She replies, “Well I’m going to my grandma’s is that a crime?”
“Well no”, I say. “But you better not run out of time.”
“Why? It’s not late.”
“Yes, but that hot soup just can’t wait.”
“Can’t you see I’m hurrying?”
“Well, you look like a bug when scurrying.”
“If you are so worried then I’ll be on my way.”
“Good luck in getting there by the end of the day.”
“She’s just past the river and over the hill.”
“Wait, that’s grandma Jill! The one who’s ill?”
“Yes, that’s my grandma but why do you ask?”
“Because we were good friends in the past.”
“Well, you can come with me if you want to.”
“I don’t think crowding her in such a state will do.”
“Well nice meeting you” she says as she walks off.
And I say goodbye with a slight doff.
After walking for a while, I stop and turn around.
I decided I want to see my old friend who is feeling a bit below ground
I start running towards her house.
Running so fast and swift that I’m as quiet as a mouse.
“Grandma Jill it’s me, wolf!” as I knock on the door.
“Ah wolf!” a voice cries. “Say no more!”
She says, “come in”, as I turn the handle.
I walk in and I see her laying there reading with a candle.
“Oh it’s been long wolf,” she cries. “It’s so nice to see you!”
“Oh you too grandma! You too!”
“So what brings you here my friend?”
“Well, I was talking with your granddaughter who is just around the bend.”
“Oh yes she is bringing me some soup.”
“It smell’s heavenly, a marvelous goop!”
“Hey, since you’re here, lets pull a trick on little red.”
“But you can’t get out of bed!”
“Don’t you worry. I know what we will do.”
“Why are we doing this any-who?”
“Because it’s April first!”
“And besides”, she goes on. “Doesn’t that make you thirst?”
“Thirsty to play a good hearted prank?”
“Well I guess”, I reply. “But lets be frank.”
“A trick on clever Little Red?” I say.
“There’s surely just no way!”
“Well we must try!” she cries.
“Ok fine”, I say. “But, I don’t like lies.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” she starts.
And that’s when she told me her plan and all of its devious parts.
So, when Little Red came, grandma hid from Red’s eyes.
And I put on a spectacular Grandma disguise.
“This is so silly,” I yell.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “And of my whereabouts don’t tell!”
Little Red exclaims, “Oh grandma it’s good to see you!”
“Oh, uh, ditto,” I say in the most old lady like voice I can do.
And then the story goes on like this.
“Oh! Grandmother what big ears you have.”
“All the better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.
“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said.
“All the better to see you with, my dear.”
“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!”
“All the better to hug you with.”
“Oh! But, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!”
“All the better to eat you with!”
I toothed my scariest sneer.
And she leaped back, in fear. “My lord!” She jumps back to my sudden cries.
“I can’t take it! I say,” And fear was being replaced by annoyance in red’s eyes.
“Wolf what are you doing!” Says Red.
“Awhh you ruined it!” Grandma appeared and said.
“Grandma what are you doing trying to scare me like that!”
“Well,” says Grandma. “It’s better than our usual chat”
“Well that wasn’t funny you know.”
“Ha,” I interject. “I told you so.”
“Well while I was walking I invited the lumberjack to have some soup with us.”
“Oh I should get going then,” I say. “I don’t want to be a fuss.”
Grandma then says. “Don’t worry!”
“No reason to be in a hurry!”
The lumberjack came in and we ate.
We all talked and stayed up late.
So that’s what really happened that day.
Not what those Grimm Brothers say.
Not the story where I eat them and die.
That, my friend, is just a lie.
I am not big and scary as you might deem.
Remember we are not always what we seem.
(Based on the tale of Little Red Riding Hood by Brothers Grimm)
I am Wolf wandering in the wood.
I see a girl who is wearing this red hood.
She looks like she’s on a mission carrying a little basket.
Strutting on like a peacock while making quite a racket.
So being curious, I walk to her and ask her this,
“What are you doing in these parts all alone?” I say with a hiss.
She replies, “Well I’m going to my grandma’s is that a crime?”
“Well no”, I say. “But you better not run out of time.”
“Why? It’s not late.”
“Yes, but that hot soup just can’t wait.”
“Can’t you see I’m hurrying?”
“Well, you look like a bug when scurrying.”
“If you are so worried then I’ll be on my way.”
“Good luck in getting there by the end of the day.”
“She’s just past the river and over the hill.”
“Wait, that’s grandma Jill! The one who’s ill?”
“Yes, that’s my grandma but why do you ask?”
“Because we were good friends in the past.”
“Well, you can come with me if you want to.”
“I don’t think crowding her in such a state will do.”
“Well nice meeting you” she says as she walks off.
And I say goodbye with a slight doff.
After walking for a while, I stop and turn around.
I decided I want to see my old friend who is feeling a bit below ground
I start running towards her house.
Running so fast and swift that I’m as quiet as a mouse.
“Grandma Jill it’s me, wolf!” as I knock on the door.
“Ah wolf!” a voice cries. “Say no more!”
She says, “come in”, as I turn the handle.
I walk in and I see her laying there reading with a candle.
“Oh it’s been long wolf,” she cries. “It’s so nice to see you!”
“Oh you too grandma! You too!”
“So what brings you here my friend?”
“Well, I was talking with your granddaughter who is just around the bend.”
“Oh yes she is bringing me some soup.”
“It smell’s heavenly, a marvelous goop!”
“Hey, since you’re here, lets pull a trick on little red.”
“But you can’t get out of bed!”
“Don’t you worry. I know what we will do.”
“Why are we doing this any-who?”
“Because it’s April first!”
“And besides”, she goes on. “Doesn’t that make you thirst?”
“Thirsty to play a good hearted prank?”
“Well I guess”, I reply. “But lets be frank.”
“A trick on clever Little Red?” I say.
“There’s surely just no way!”
“Well we must try!” she cries.
“Ok fine”, I say. “But, I don’t like lies.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” she starts.
And that’s when she told me her plan and all of its devious parts.
So, when Little Red came, grandma hid from Red’s eyes.
And I put on a spectacular Grandma disguise.
“This is so silly,” I yell.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “And of my whereabouts don’t tell!”
Little Red exclaims, “Oh grandma it’s good to see you!”
“Oh, uh, ditto,” I say in the most old lady like voice I can do.
And then the story goes on like this.
“Oh! Grandmother what big ears you have.”
“All the better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.
“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said.
“All the better to see you with, my dear.”
“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!”
“All the better to hug you with.”
“Oh! But, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!”
“All the better to eat you with!”
I toothed my scariest sneer.
And she leaped back, in fear. “My lord!” She jumps back to my sudden cries.
“I can’t take it! I say,” And fear was being replaced by annoyance in red’s eyes.
“Wolf what are you doing!” Says Red.
“Awhh you ruined it!” Grandma appeared and said.
“Grandma what are you doing trying to scare me like that!”
“Well,” says Grandma. “It’s better than our usual chat”
“Well that wasn’t funny you know.”
“Ha,” I interject. “I told you so.”
“Well while I was walking I invited the lumberjack to have some soup with us.”
“Oh I should get going then,” I say. “I don’t want to be a fuss.”
Grandma then says. “Don’t worry!”
“No reason to be in a hurry!”
The lumberjack came in and we ate.
We all talked and stayed up late.
So that’s what really happened that day.
Not what those Grimm Brothers say.
Not the story where I eat them and die.
That, my friend, is just a lie.
I am not big and scary as you might deem.
Remember we are not always what we seem.
My Home Sweet Home
Although my house is really old, it is home to me and I’m proud of it. I haven’t techniclly had a home for a long time. My family and I have been traveling abroad for a year. So, when I came back to America I wanted a home again. I was like a bear with no cave to live in. Or like the quote, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou. I can relate to that quote because while I was away I just craved a home.
I didn’t want an apartment or a little cottage or anything like that, but I wanted a true house, a proper one. Mind you, I didn’t want a big house. Not like a mansion or anything. I wanted a good one, and when I first laid eyes on our new house I knew it was the one. The house was quite a sight, it looked liked nobody had lived in it for a while. It is up on a mini hill with a big barren front yard extending to the base of the porch. The porch is big, rickety, and wraps around the side of the house. Strange vine’s crept up covering the front of the house as if they were ashamed of showing what lay behind them. The inside was not in good repair either. Built in 1914, this house had seen some bad days, but the inside intrigued me even more. It smelled like an old grandmother when she’s just finished making bread. The original stove, and even an old drying rack above the heater, made this house come to life, though it made it feel as old as a fossil. It turns out that the original owner was an artist and set designer. He designed the set for the first King Kong movie!
The people who stayed at the house before us weren’t exactly the best caretaker’s. So, when we moved in we took charge. We uncovered the house behind the vines and brought it back to life. We cleaned the house, back yard, front yard and everywhere! I really love our house now. It hasn’t been too long, but I can tell this house loves us as much as we love the house. Every time I walk in, I take a deep breath and think, “its good to be home”.
I didn’t want an apartment or a little cottage or anything like that, but I wanted a true house, a proper one. Mind you, I didn’t want a big house. Not like a mansion or anything. I wanted a good one, and when I first laid eyes on our new house I knew it was the one. The house was quite a sight, it looked liked nobody had lived in it for a while. It is up on a mini hill with a big barren front yard extending to the base of the porch. The porch is big, rickety, and wraps around the side of the house. Strange vine’s crept up covering the front of the house as if they were ashamed of showing what lay behind them. The inside was not in good repair either. Built in 1914, this house had seen some bad days, but the inside intrigued me even more. It smelled like an old grandmother when she’s just finished making bread. The original stove, and even an old drying rack above the heater, made this house come to life, though it made it feel as old as a fossil. It turns out that the original owner was an artist and set designer. He designed the set for the first King Kong movie!
The people who stayed at the house before us weren’t exactly the best caretaker’s. So, when we moved in we took charge. We uncovered the house behind the vines and brought it back to life. We cleaned the house, back yard, front yard and everywhere! I really love our house now. It hasn’t been too long, but I can tell this house loves us as much as we love the house. Every time I walk in, I take a deep breath and think, “its good to be home”.
My Reason for Happiness
I like to be happy, happy all the time.
I think everything is better if you’re always happy.
The reason I’m so happy is because I am alive.
What better thing than that which makes you happier?
The truth is, without life there would be nothing to be happy about.
There would be no books, no T.V, no friends, no family, no hanging out, no summer and no anything!
The fact that I am alive and healthy keep’s me going every day.
It’s the reason I’m so happy.
Just living in the moment, talking with friends and laughing.
I am a simple man to please I must admit.
But life is not simple it’s incredibly complex.
Life is like a food platter filled with different things you can taste.
Those things are choices you make in life.
Some taste like happiness, others sadness.
It could smell like adventure, or look like trouble.
But each choice on the platter leads to something spectacular.
Sometimes life has its ups, and downs.
Sometimes life just runs ahead while you’re left behind.
But in the end I think that everything is for the better.
Everything seems right in the end.
The waves of life running over you.
You feel them connecting with you and they make you feel alive.
This is why life is my happiness.
Because if not for life, I wouldn’t have anything.
I think everything is better if you’re always happy.
The reason I’m so happy is because I am alive.
What better thing than that which makes you happier?
The truth is, without life there would be nothing to be happy about.
There would be no books, no T.V, no friends, no family, no hanging out, no summer and no anything!
The fact that I am alive and healthy keep’s me going every day.
It’s the reason I’m so happy.
Just living in the moment, talking with friends and laughing.
I am a simple man to please I must admit.
But life is not simple it’s incredibly complex.
Life is like a food platter filled with different things you can taste.
Those things are choices you make in life.
Some taste like happiness, others sadness.
It could smell like adventure, or look like trouble.
But each choice on the platter leads to something spectacular.
Sometimes life has its ups, and downs.
Sometimes life just runs ahead while you’re left behind.
But in the end I think that everything is for the better.
Everything seems right in the end.
The waves of life running over you.
You feel them connecting with you and they make you feel alive.
This is why life is my happiness.
Because if not for life, I wouldn’t have anything.
My First True Love
When I first laid eyes on her, it was not love at first sight.
I knew she was vegetarian, and because of this we might fight.
I was in a room full of people I didn’t know.
I just couldn’t tear my eyes away, even with other girls there, our connection started to grow.
Someone offered me a seat right in front of her, and her affection is what I sought.
Because looking at her I got excited, she was steaming hot.
I decided I must have her and asked someone to pass a fork.
I was polite so I waited, but it felt like all my excitement was being contained by a cork.
I finally couldn’t take it, so I used my fork to take a piece of her and brought it to me.
I took it up to my mouth, and took a bite. That’s when I began to see.
She was the best thing I ever had. I wanted to declare my love for her right then and there.
Although I knew people would stare.
So I was content to just have the rest of her all for me.
And to this day she was the best lasagna I ever had. She’s the best there could be!
Sitting there on the plate winking at guys.
Although I knew that was a disguise.
A disguise for what lay underneath.
That she tasted like a little bit of heaven, like gold, oh what a thing to bequeath.
It’s like a quote; “Love is like the sun coming out of the clouds and warming your soul.”
She put a fire in my belly, made me see the light and stopped me from being a mole.
Oh that perfect thing.
Of you how I dream.
I dream of the day we meet again.
I dream of the perfect lasagna.
I knew she was vegetarian, and because of this we might fight.
I was in a room full of people I didn’t know.
I just couldn’t tear my eyes away, even with other girls there, our connection started to grow.
Someone offered me a seat right in front of her, and her affection is what I sought.
Because looking at her I got excited, she was steaming hot.
I decided I must have her and asked someone to pass a fork.
I was polite so I waited, but it felt like all my excitement was being contained by a cork.
I finally couldn’t take it, so I used my fork to take a piece of her and brought it to me.
I took it up to my mouth, and took a bite. That’s when I began to see.
She was the best thing I ever had. I wanted to declare my love for her right then and there.
Although I knew people would stare.
So I was content to just have the rest of her all for me.
And to this day she was the best lasagna I ever had. She’s the best there could be!
Sitting there on the plate winking at guys.
Although I knew that was a disguise.
A disguise for what lay underneath.
That she tasted like a little bit of heaven, like gold, oh what a thing to bequeath.
It’s like a quote; “Love is like the sun coming out of the clouds and warming your soul.”
She put a fire in my belly, made me see the light and stopped me from being a mole.
Oh that perfect thing.
Of you how I dream.
I dream of the day we meet again.
I dream of the perfect lasagna.
My Beloved Passion
Hobby, sport or obsession, whatever you want to call it, it is my love, my passion. It’s Beat-boxing. At least that’s what it’s called, because to me it is much more than that. To me it’s like the waves of the sea, unpredictable, beautiful and wild. Like the waves of the sea, it comes crashing down in a symphony of awesome sounds.
I use Beat-boxing as a paintbrush, to paint my sounds and beats. I love it because other people like to hear it. I do it to make others joyful. I also do it for me. I do it to gain peace. It’s like my very own meditation, and no one can judge it. It speaks to me, because I hear words in each and every sound. Each beat has a new meaning; it reflects my different emotions. You can tell how I am feeling if you listen close.
A lot of people ask me how I Beat-box, but honestly it’s hard to explain. It’s just natural to me, like breathing. To make different noises I just use different muscles. Let me try to explain. For the basic beat, my vocal cords vibrate in short bursts, which hit my throat. I use my tongue to change the pitch of the noise that is made from the air exiting through my teeth and out of my mouth. That is what makes the beat. That’s as best as I can explain it, but the most important thing is breathing, keep that in mind if you want to Beat-box.
Beat-boxing is a way to escape, to go away from this world and onto the next. It’s a gateway for me to be free, to just be me. It doesn’t matter if it sounds bad or silly, just the fact that someone gifted me with this passion to do this is enough for me to be happy. My dad is the one who pretty much taught me, and for that I am really thankful, because he showed me this wonderful thing. I want to learn more about it. I feel like I should learn how this art came to be. And I hope it will bring joy to others as it has to me.
I use Beat-boxing as a paintbrush, to paint my sounds and beats. I love it because other people like to hear it. I do it to make others joyful. I also do it for me. I do it to gain peace. It’s like my very own meditation, and no one can judge it. It speaks to me, because I hear words in each and every sound. Each beat has a new meaning; it reflects my different emotions. You can tell how I am feeling if you listen close.
A lot of people ask me how I Beat-box, but honestly it’s hard to explain. It’s just natural to me, like breathing. To make different noises I just use different muscles. Let me try to explain. For the basic beat, my vocal cords vibrate in short bursts, which hit my throat. I use my tongue to change the pitch of the noise that is made from the air exiting through my teeth and out of my mouth. That is what makes the beat. That’s as best as I can explain it, but the most important thing is breathing, keep that in mind if you want to Beat-box.
Beat-boxing is a way to escape, to go away from this world and onto the next. It’s a gateway for me to be free, to just be me. It doesn’t matter if it sounds bad or silly, just the fact that someone gifted me with this passion to do this is enough for me to be happy. My dad is the one who pretty much taught me, and for that I am really thankful, because he showed me this wonderful thing. I want to learn more about it. I feel like I should learn how this art came to be. And I hope it will bring joy to others as it has to me.
How My Family Came to San Diego
This is the story of how I ended up in SD. I have decided to go way back, to like Stone Age time, because I am trying not to run out of things to write. So, here it goes. I’m guessing my great, great, super great ancestors were living in a cave or something like that, but ended up civilized somewhere in the world. My family on my mothers, father’s side has been in America as far back as we can remember, but my mothers, mother’s side is a bit different.
A German named William came to America and married a Cherokee named Ella Shacklefoot. They had a son named Adolf and he married a woman named Bertha from Bohemia, when Bohemia was its own country. Bertha was my grandmother’s grandmother. My grandmother’s father’s side is a whole other story, which I will not get deep into because I can see this would go on forever, but basically there’s Irish, English and German in the blood line.
Onto my dad’s side, which is a little simpler. Both his mom and his dad are from Bolivia, a country in South America. Their entire family is from Bolivia, so not much diversity there. My abuelita and abuelito immigrated here to America around 1967. They came to San Diego and have lived here ever since.
My parents met in Michigan, when they were going to Andrews University. They had my sister Olivia and lived there for four years. They then moved to Titusville, Florida, where my dad went into the police force. This is where I come in. I was born there and lived there for a grand total of one year. We then made a journey to Tennessee where we lived for two years. As a side note, I am convinced I have a memory of getting my shots there, even though I was very young.
Anyway, we then finally moved to the Golden state of California. We lived in San Bernardino County, in a place called Victorville. We lived there for five years. And in that time my little sister was born! Then we moved down to San Diego and have lived here ever since! Well, except last year when we were traveling abroad, but that’s another story. So, that is how I ended up in San Diego. The city is like an old friend, it always welcomes me back. The quote: “At this port of San Diego, truly a fine one, and not without reason called famous.” by Junipero Serra, shows how special it is. I truly wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
A German named William came to America and married a Cherokee named Ella Shacklefoot. They had a son named Adolf and he married a woman named Bertha from Bohemia, when Bohemia was its own country. Bertha was my grandmother’s grandmother. My grandmother’s father’s side is a whole other story, which I will not get deep into because I can see this would go on forever, but basically there’s Irish, English and German in the blood line.
Onto my dad’s side, which is a little simpler. Both his mom and his dad are from Bolivia, a country in South America. Their entire family is from Bolivia, so not much diversity there. My abuelita and abuelito immigrated here to America around 1967. They came to San Diego and have lived here ever since.
My parents met in Michigan, when they were going to Andrews University. They had my sister Olivia and lived there for four years. They then moved to Titusville, Florida, where my dad went into the police force. This is where I come in. I was born there and lived there for a grand total of one year. We then made a journey to Tennessee where we lived for two years. As a side note, I am convinced I have a memory of getting my shots there, even though I was very young.
Anyway, we then finally moved to the Golden state of California. We lived in San Bernardino County, in a place called Victorville. We lived there for five years. And in that time my little sister was born! Then we moved down to San Diego and have lived here ever since! Well, except last year when we were traveling abroad, but that’s another story. So, that is how I ended up in San Diego. The city is like an old friend, it always welcomes me back. The quote: “At this port of San Diego, truly a fine one, and not without reason called famous.” by Junipero Serra, shows how special it is. I truly wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.