Remember the Freedom Givers

I wrote this a long time ago and as I was rereading it I was constantly making corrections in my head. However I left it exactly as little fourteen year old me wrote it. I memorized and then performed this piece for my middle school debate competition. It's not the best work I've done but there is a lot of heart and meaning to it. I hope you take the time to reflect and remember those service men and women. It's a little after midnight so it's not veterans day anymore which is just as well. We shouldn't only remember them on a few choice days of the year. 

Original Oratory
Topic: Remember the freedom givers.
By: Aubrianna Hockett June 1, 2008
Dedicated to Mr. Whitson,

Thanks for giving me my freedom. I really appreciate it.

            Have you ever thought about those heroes that died for our freedom? Have you ever thanked their mothers for raising heroes? Have you ever thanked their fathers for telling them they could accomplish anything that they put their mind to? Have you ever even thought about how lucky you are for living in a free country? Have you ever thanked those people who have recurring nightmares of the horrors of war? Do you ever think about these people on days that aren’t set aside for their remembrance?

            War is not glorious. War is not divine. War is hideous and simply ridiculous. Death is not merciful, death is not kind. Death is greedy and ruthless. The nightmares of war never really go away. They are always there deep in your mind. The veterans of wars relive battles each and every day. Not many people in this world have the stomach to take another human’s life. Fewer yet can watch someone’s life slowly slip away and do nothing to help them. Napoleon Bonaparte once said that “it requires more courage to suffer than to die”. I know that it takes even more courage to watch someone else suffer than to suffer yourself. War is definitely not kind.

            What is courage, is it the ability to fight, to hurt someone, is it standing up for what you believe in, is it being not afraid? What is courage? “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear” Ambrose Redmoon. I can guarantee you that anyone who was ever in a battle was scared to death if they weren’t they were later. So does that make them no longer heroes because they were afraid? No, it makes them even more heroic because they could see that something was more important than their own life their own fear.

            Does anyone who has never been to a third world country really understand the freedom that we have in this country? The freedom that we have in this country is amazing. Do we ever thank those veterans that fought for our freedom? How many Americans can honestly say that they thank those veterans every day? I know that I can’t remember those heroes and thank them for everything that they did. It would be absurd if we the people in a free land could not even remember the people who gave us our freedom. The next time that you sing the words “and the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”, the last words of our national anthem written by Francis Scott Key, remember that the brave are still around to thank in person.

            Just think if every person in the United States took ten minutes of their day to humbly do something for those veterans and their families in thanks, what would we be like as a nations? As a state? As a city? As a school? As a family? As individuals? The whole world would benefit from it. If we just sit down for ten minutes, ten minutes a day and think about and thank those heroes for what they did I know that they would hear us. And that they would know that they fought for a reason. The reason of freedom. Remember, everything that we have the privilege to do, is because, of the freedom givers.

November 8th

I hate having to reach down deep inside of myself

Trying to find that one glimmer of motivation

I hate searching for hours

For the courage to get out of bed

I hate letting my mind wander

Down the dark paths

Why can’t I write about happy things

Normal people things

Why can’t I make myself care

Even a little bit

Why can’t I shake this off

And pull myself out of it

Am I the only one who feels this blankness

Dull and empty blank nothingness

Am I the only one who hears the voices

Of the evil merciless parts of myself

Am I the only one who sees life

As a chore

November 8, 2014

Ordinarily Unique

It's amazing how much teenage angst I can still feel as I reread this poem. But isn't that what makes it so great!?

Ordinarily Unique

No one knows who I am

No one’s even guessing

I almost know who I want to be

Then again no one wants me to be her

They all have their own ideas and plans

Of who I am and who I am to become

But they are all wrong I am none of those girls

I am a little bit of each

I am seriously hyper

I am quietly outspoken

I am impressively strong and gentle

I am rash and thoughtful

I am happily distressed

I have improperly perfect decorum

I am strangely normal

I am simply complicated

I am ordinarily unique

I may not be what you think I should

But I am who I am

And I can’t

No won’t

Change that

May 9, 2009

I Will Conquer

I have had a rough couple of days, with school and work and friends. I felt like I was failing at life, but then I remembered this poem. I wrote it when I was having a really hard time and just like now I want to tell the world that I am in charge. 

I Will Conquer

Who’s to say I’ll ever get over this

Who’s to say I’m going to be whole one day

Who’s to say I will amount to anything

Who’s to say I won’t be swallowed up by my own fears

Who’s to say I won’t just fall to pieces

Who’s to say I will heal from these scars

Who’s to say life will get better

Who’s to say I will stop crying

Who’s to say my hurt isn’t real

I say I will never get over this

That crying is the only remedy

I have been trying, and trying to make it better

Why not just give up

Why do people think the bravery in me will overcome this fear

It won’t,

But if it does I will decide not anyone else

Who’s to say I won’t be my own savior

Who’s to say I won’t put myself back together

Who’s to say I won’t learn to love myself

Who’s to say this wasn’t meant to happen

Who’s to say I won’t learn from these scars

Who’s to say I won’t be loved unconditionally

Who’s to say I won’t break through and conquer all

Who’s to say one day I won’t be thankful for all this hurt

No one

I am in control of my life

Whether I let it fall to pieces

Or let it change the world for the better

I will conquer my fears

And be the savior of my life

I will, this is the first step

And who’s to say anything

February 19, 2009

The Woman in the Stone

 
I love this poem, I tried to get a lot of imagery in it so I hope as you read it you will see it in your mind. 

The Woman in the Stone

The sheet tumbles to the floor
Exposing a mammoth block of stone
This piece of rock will win the award
If only he knew what it was
Slowly and purposely he brings out
Chisels, hammers and stones
They line up like regiments
Ready to follow the master
Retreating to far corners of the room
He watches the light play and dance
On the invisible features

A pool of shadow collects at the feet

A single shaft of light spotlights

The crest of a brow

The blank block of stone is no longer what he sees

He sees the shape of perfection

The woman in the stone

Slowly she emerges from her prison

With his hammer and chisel

He thrusts aside the rock

Leaving a woman in its place

A lady he has seen in his dreams

As a child

As a boy

And now as a man

The mother he never knew

He had sculpted her hundreds of times

Each different from the last

This one a true masterpiece

He just wished he knew her name…

May 1, 2011

Rain

I found this little guy buried deep within the depths of my computer files. I think I wrote this as an exercise in my poetry class. I thought it was applicable for today.

Rain

Today the heavens opened

My skin excites at the trickle of rain

Pools of moisture gather in my hands

In my palms I hold drops of the heavens

The sound of rain hitting the roof echo across the glen

Soft grass mutes the harsh drumming of water

With my ears turned towards the sky

I hear the rhythm of angels

September 23, 2010

Phone Call

Phone Call

Missed call from Papa Bear

Call me, the text said

Clocked out

Walking home 

Hey what's up Dad?

Are you done with everything today?

*Deja vu*

I've had this conversation before

276 days ago

The day my world stopped

I know what's coming and yet

I'm still shocked when it's revealed

...hospital...awhile...passed away...morning

What!? 

This can't be happening again

*Deja vu*

Walking home alone

Darkness surrounds me

suffocating the light of the world

my world stopped

can't breathe

...the circle of life

better place...

it's over

not even a year

and they're both gone

the first drop escapes

floodgates open

feelings, emotions

I want to bury, want it to stop

hurting

*Deja vu* 

it hasn't stopped, won't stop

...gets easier

not yet

that call brought it all back

that cold snowy December night

one day shy of two decades

same lost little girl

what's a granddaughter without grandparents? 

September 18, 2014

I'm not sure if this is done, it's all too raw. But hopefully it does them justice. I miss them both, I still can't believe my dad lost them just 276 days apart. Can't believe I lost them. However the scales are not unbalanced. As we loose, God gains. And today He gained a great man. I love you Grandpa. 

In Like

I found this gem buried in my Jerusalem book and I figured why not share it. Enjoy!

I fell in love somehow in

that semester abroad

something magical occurred and I want to

yell it to all the world.

obscure all other noise 

until I get the words past my lips

be silent as I tell you that I

really fell in love with Jerusalem and I miss 

every single person I met

there in the Holy Land-especially 

the one man I fell in like with. 

April 26, 2014

November 16 2009

Today made me think of this poem and I have to admit its a 'tomorrow' day. I hope that one day I will feel royal and needed again.

November 16 2009

I don’t know what this feeling is

Frightened, alone, used, mocked, forgotten

No that was yesterday

Today I feel

Angry, upset, bitter, hardened, spiteful

Tomorrow I know exactly how I will feel

Tired, haunted, regretful, empty, lonely

Will the sun rise again?

Can I really feel

Happy, joyful, accepted, wanted, loved?

No I’m too far gone for that.

But there’s this voice telling me I’m

Special, royalty, beautiful, talented, needed

Maybe today can be a good day

Maybe I am good enough

November 16 2009

Me

In my high school poetry class we had an assignment to write a poem about ourselves (sticking to a specific style of course). This is me, well junior me, hope you like it!

Aubrianna

direct, cautious, thoughtful, confident

daughter of God

who loves puzzles, the moon and inside jokes

who is afraid of eternity, heights and heartache

who want to see the end of time, the world

from the clouds and a man who would fall for her

resident of a world her own

who is missed by her shadow crayon

Hockett

November 13, 2010

House of Cards

This is from an old relationship that ended because of those skeletons in the closet. 

I thought it was all real,

I thought our relationship was secure

Apparently I was wrong

-so wrong-

There were sturdy beams

Bright shiny windows,

Rooms full of joyful memories

Plans to expand for the future

I’d checked the blueprints for any flaws

The construction seemed perfectly sound

I didn’t think to look in the closet for skeletons

If I had…well it probably wouldn’t change a thing

I thought it was a house that would stand

Stand against anything

How could I not? I laid the brick and mortar myself

But sure enough one tiny gust of wind

Sent it all tumbling down around me

All along it was a carefully crafted

House of cards.

July 30, 2013

Superheroes

One day I woke up and realized I didn't have any poems about superheroes, and that was a travesty. So this is what happened. 

Superheroes

Some superheroes are on television or in comic books

They have superpowers and epic battles

Fighting off bad guys with left and right hooks

Everyone is safe under their watch

Some are devoted enough to even wear tights

But my hero isn’t like that

His name won’t shine in bright lights

He isn’t coming out with a blockbuster hit

Young boys won’t dress up as him for Halloween

My hero isn’t a knight either, from a fairytale

He isn’t on a quest to kill the evil queen

But that does not mean he isn’t powerful

Or that he doesn’t protect me from evil men

He is always there for me

Even when I ignore him again and again

I sometimes feel helplessly isolated and alone

But I know in my heart that he is right beside me

I can’t see him, but I can feel his loving embrace

Reminding me there is so much more I can be

He may not be in movies or comics

But I read about him everyday

He suffered and died so that I might live

He is the bread of life, the only true way

I love my hero with all my heart and soul

No one can take away my faith in his love

I know who and what he really is

A savior of us all sent from heaven above.

November 9, 2013

Writer's Block

I haven't posted in a while, I haven't written in a long time truth be told. I just haven't been able to get my feelings on paper. This situation reminded me of a poem I wrote when I should have been writing an essay... ;) I hope you can all relate to my form of procrastination.

Writer’s Block

Okay life just got hard, crazy hard

My hands are poised over the keyboard

And nothing will come out

Why can’t life be more like poetry

All I want to do is talk myself into circles

Climb through a jungle of metaphors

Stare down the idea of perfection

Until it can no longer stand tall

I want to choose my words

For me, not for an evil red pen

I can’t take this structure

Any longer, I need to break through

I want to imagine this cell away

The bars no longer hold me hostage

I can’t live the life they want me to

My strengths can’t lift the weights

They place in my path

No matter how hard I struggle

They simply won’t budge

Why can’t writing be more like poetry

Words shouldn't fit in a box

But spread their wings and fly

High above the fences and expectations

How do I conquer this block

Do I even want to stumble over it

Probably not, then I would have

No more camouflage to hide behind

I would be forced to stand nose to nose

With a certain overarching fear

Of failing

Of never being good enough to

Achieve that perfect mark

I mean what’s the point of trying

If the statistics point to failure

Why can’t the words flow the same way

Aubrianna Hockett

March 2, 2014

Galilee

I wrote this on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.I hope as you go through your stormy days that you remember He is there for you and He has already taken your heavy burden.

Galilee

I look out across the water and I can barely make Him out

standing a ways off in the distance.

My heart sings as I measure

the short distance my legs must carry me

so that I may melt in His inviting embrace.

There are those who stand close 

who in the naivete laugh me to scorn.

For to them the idea of crossing the water

is impossible.

But I am full of so much light

if I but close my eyes i would begin to fly. 

it matter not to me the physical impossibility 

of the fragile surface carrying the load of my feet.

For He has taken my heavy burden

and lifted it off my sunken shoulders.

I am free and light. I am full of power,

a power much stronger than the forces of gravity.

If I but keep my eyes upon His glorious face 

I shall not fall,

neither will my footsteps stall.

For I am following the prints He has left for me 

among the stormy waves. 

April 5, 2014

Invisible To Him

Though I walk in his footsteps,

I’m invisible to him.

Though I follow close behind,

I’m invisible to him.

His eyes stay fixed on the future

never turning back to what he passed,

never detecting my prints in the sand.

I go unnoticed to him, completely invisible.

Though I know him inside and out,

to him I’m invisible.

Though I’ve got him memorized,

to him I’m invisible.

He’ll never know what I've done to stay by him,

never know how I've watched him,

watched him grow and shape his life,

never know because I’m invisible to him.

He’ll never know me like I know him.

He’ll never see me for who I am,

only for what I was in the past.

My footprints mean nothing to him.

My path in life is meaningless.

He’ll never see me, never know what I’ve done,

never understand why I’ve followed him,

never know that I wanted to be the footprints beside his.

My footsteps have changed course,

not by much but by enough.

Enough to make my own life,

enough to be more than just invisible!

November 18, 2009

Questions

Here is a really thoughtful poem. I hope this sparks your own questions about life. 

When does a falsehood become                                                                                                                  

A lie?

Is it after your words hurt someone

When does alcohol become

Intoxicating?

Is it after you do something stupid

When does a crush become

A lover?

Is it after you realize you can’t breathe without them

When does a story become

A novel?

Is it after the protagonist questions their motives

When does a prodigy become

A genius?

Is it after they accomplish the impossible

When does a sapling become

A tree?

Is it after it survives a harsh winter

When does a death become

A tragedy?

Is it after you are affected

When does a child become

An adult?

Is it after they find themselves

When does a habit become

An addiction?

Is it after you understand it is hurting you

When does someone accomplish their

Destiny?

Is it after they realize they know nothing at all

When does this life truly

End?

Is it after you give up

 October 15, 2010

Your Death

For those who have lost someone dear. Grandma I've been missing you a lot lately. 

Your Death

Your death was a flash of lightning

In my night sky

Others saw it, felt for me,

Then moved on and saw the sun rise

But for me the image of

Heaven touching earth

Is all I see when I close my eyes

The storm is still raging in my dreams

My days are dark with rain because

Your death was a flash of lightning

Masterpiece

This poem takes some imagination to read, but I love it I hope you do too!

Masterpiece

I pull my canvas across the frame

Carefully take my paints out of the box

Arrange my brushes, pull the shades

Light filters across the blank sheet

I bring my stool over positioned just so

I settle upon my perch

And wait

Light and shadows change

Time erodes

And still I wait

The paint patiently anticipates the

Opportune moment when I find that

Perfect second of suspended time

To splatter onto my blank canvas

I wait

There! at the distant horizon of my mind’s eye

I see the moment

The perfectly formed, terrible horrendous moment

The moment I realized; this was the dawn

The cold, foggy, wet, miserable dawn

Of a day I never wanted to see

And still it came

The brushstrokes are slower now

A tear falls

His hand reaches off the canvas trying

To wipe the liquid pain aside

The light has faded

The paint is back in the box

The brushes cleaned

The canvas drying

I walk towards the door

Glance once more

At the piece of my past, my heart, my soul

Out on display for all to see

I turn the lights out on

My masterpiece

The Moment of Goodbye.

April 27, 2011

He Didn't Have to Be

This is one of my favorite poems, you might have to read it a few times to understand it's full meaning but I think that's what makes a great poem. 

He Didn’t Have to Be

He didn’t have to be

There in that stable

He didn’t have to run

To Egypt to save his life

He didn’t have to be

A humble carpenter

He didn’t have to watch

His family be persecuted

He didn’t have to be

Worthy of his calling

He didn’t have to live

That life

He chose to accept

His mission

He chose to believe

Mary and the angel

He chose to father

The Saviour

He didn’t have to be

There in that stable

August 7, 2011

Could He Be the One

This is a very old poem, I wrote in high school. But I came across it and after I stopped laughing I knew I just had to share it. I hope you get a laugh out of my teenage infatuation. :)

Could He Be the One?

When I see him a shiver runs up my arm

As I look at him I forget to breath

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

He is forgetful and inconsiderate

But that is not his fault he is a boy

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

When he says prayers I know he is sincere

He has the power of god at his fingertips I know he believes

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

He is popular with the world

But he stands up for his standards

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

On a scale of 1 to 10 he is…gorgeous

His eyes a tempest on the sea

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

He never looks at me, just through me

He only argues with me, never really talks to me

He’s not the one for me, I don’t like him

Spiritual as a giant, he knows all the answers

The mantle of leadership bears well on his shoulders

He can’t be the one for me, I don’t like him

He teases me where it hurts most

Does that mean he knows me best?

He can’t be the one for me

I wonder what it would be like to be held in those strong arms

Caressed by those gentle hands

He’s not supposed to be the one for me

I can’t stop thinking about him

I think I want him to think about me

Could he be the one for me?

August 5, 2010

Mirage Of Life

This is one of my favorite poems. It took me a long time to think up the imagery for each couplet, but I am quite pleased with the symbolism and meaning of it. I hope you enjoy reading and rereading this thoughtful commentary on life. 

Mirage Of Life

Frolicking in the valley

Of innocence

Wandering through the meadow

Of confusion

Skipping on the path

Of fun

Slowly entering the gulf

Of despair

Climbing over the wall

Of regret

Pondering at the pool

Of decisions

Pausing in the orchard

Of adolescence

Sliding into the pit

Of negative thoughts

Gazing across the sea

Of magic

Fighting against the rosebush

Of love

Lost in the maze

Of jealousy

Succumbing to the river

Of emotions

Breathing in the aroma

Of maturity

Marching over the bridge

Of sacrifice

Conquering the mirage

Of life

October 30, 2009

He LIVES

This is a poem I wrote for Easter in 2011. I read it in Bethany, Israel the Monday after Easter this year. I love this poem I really feel like it explains my testimony of the Savior. I hope you like it. 

He LIVES

I want this poem to flow

Smoothly and graciously the words running together

To form a lyrical melody

A song for my Savior

My brother and redeemer

The man whose body was beaten

And broken, bruised and worn

To pay for a debt I had naively incurred

The child who never whined or complained

Who never did any wrong at all

So I could.

He was perfect so I could be a sinner

He chose the right so I could make mistakes

He walked on water so I could climb out of the pit

He died so I could live

He carried my burden because I couldn’t

He paid for my sins because I couldn’t bear the weight

The holy Messiah lived a life

I could never hope to achieve

Christ surrendered to mortality

Allowed mortal men to break His house of clay

How could a king let holes be stamped into His hands?

How did Jesus hold the world on His shoulders?

How did He bear all the sins of mankind?

I know not how, but I do know that He did

I know my Savior suffered for me

I know He died for me

But most of all I know He LIVES for me.

These words may not be sung by nations across the sea,

Or placed in a book for all to marvel over

This might not be the most glorious praise to Him

It might not be the greatest gift He receives

But it is the greatest praise I can give

It is the gift I lay at His feet

The poem engraved on my heart

For all to see

HE LIVES!

April 24, 2011

Star in His Kingdom

I wrote this piece while studying in Israel. I memorized and performed it at the Jerusalem Center's Winter 2014 Formal Talent Show. I love the symbolism that stars invoke. Remember you will always be a star in the Father's kingdom.   

Star in His Kingdom

I am a star in His kingdom. As a star I am part of His glorious creation. Though you cannot number the stars in the heavens each is distinct and individual, just as each of the Father’s children are unique and individual in a very on purpose sort of way. The Father doesn't make mistakes so don’t you dare, don’t you dare believe that you are one. He created me, and named me a masterpiece so I know I am exactly who He wanted me to be. I am a star in His kingdom.

Stars go through many stages and cycles, such as humans. A newborn star has so much potential, and I feel at this moment I have finally come alive. I am reborn this day, I know who I am and for what purpose I was formed. I am a star! in His kingdom.

A star’s potential is that of life. One day I will have my own solar system, and on one of those planets life will reside. I have the potential to create and sustain life. The Father created me for this purpose. I am a star in His kingdom. I have the glories of the heavens within me. And I can’t wait to let them out.

            I have a light I must bring to the world a light I cannot hide. Nor would I dare want to. Stars shine with a light from within. I have the light of Christ inside, which is what shines forth in me. Galaxies farther than I can comprehend will see my light and feel my influence. That is a responsibility I am not willing to shirk. I am a star in His kingdom. That is a privilege I am not willing to let go of. For what is a star that dies, but a destructive force to everything around it. I cannot create life if I do not shine. I cannot sustain that life if I do not shine brighter than the darkness.

            I am a star in His kingdom. I was created with a purpose. He knows me. He has numbered us all. He knows each star that has drifted or dimmed. He is calling you back. Take up your role as a light to the worlds, worlds without end. You are a star in His kingdom.

January 18, 2014