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Melissa Mendelson

Melissa Mendelson

living in Monroe, NY
   
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TOTAL VIEWS: 1,659|PUBLISHED CONTENT: 73|FAVORITED BY: 6|CONTENT PRODUCER SINCE: 08/07/2007

I'm a self-published author and poet. I also write screenplays, lyrics, and fan fiction. I self-published two collections of poetry called Silent Dreams and Tears of Sand. My website is www.melissamendelson.com.

Education/Experience: Nassau County Community College/AA, Suny Oneonta/BA

Interests: writing, reading, music, movies, TV shows

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Showing Results 1 - 73 of 73
When a beautiful morning turns into tragedy, who will come to the rescue of the survivors and help piece their world back together?
Iron Man blasts through the box office, taking us on a journey of one man's destiny into becoming a hero.
Gossip is the sap running through the vines of rumors, but the dark side of the vine is a place that most won't go near. And stories from the bowl lie deep within the dark side of the vine.
How I wish for his lips to find mine and fill me up with the sweetest kiss, but only in my dreams does his kiss exist.
History is born through war and through those that fight, those remembered forever as heroes.
Our lives are different stories that will always be shared with each other.
A decade of living in and out of retail has left behind memories to forever stay with me, ghosts that still whisper moments of time within my ear.
From the pages of my self-published collection of poetry, Tears of Sand comes a soft lullaby, a prayer for peace.
We all have a dream to be known, and now we have a ticket to the world.
In a chaotic TV season, two men have swept us up into their conflicted, immortal lives in hopes of becoming human once again.
Our quest to make our lives easier has paved the road for the machines to come, and now our future belongs to them.
This is your life. You dream of living as you want to live, but you find yourself still standing in the same spot you've been in.
Class is in session, and the lesson is history. But the pages of now are blank. History is still writing its course, and its focus is the race to the White House.
Inspired by the TV show, Without A Trace, What if we are the disappeared, ghosts against the walls of life trying to reach back to the world to make ourselves known?
My life is a long, closed book, but lately, I feel like throwing it open and tearing the pages out.
Somebody once said that my heroes died today, and I think I am going to crash. But what our heroes would want is for us to keep living and to never forget that they were here.
Even in our darkest hour, we will still see a light.
The hands of violence have written many pages of history, and today, it is still writing what continues on in our world.
What will our world look like seven years from now?
A piece of writing based on an old dream of a ghost that could still not let go.
Who am I to be if I cannot shed my skin?
With the madness of the world, we wish to be rescued from heroes that live in the comic books and exist on television, and as we wait, we wonder who will we look up to, who will be our hero.
It's been a long struggle climbing my way up this rocky terrain, and now I stand before a wall of white. What lies behind it? What approaches in the new year?
Another year dwindles like a burning candle, but do we keep to the flame or release it into smoke?
Another year comes to an end with a war still raging on, and we continue to wait for our soldiers to return home.
Why do we need love? Why must we have it especially during the holidays? What is the fear to be alone? Is it because that we are human and that we need love?
A book review on The Life and Death of Fame. What would we do if we could become famous, and would we be prepared to pay the price at the end?
All the words, all the emotions that I cannot express flow free through the ink I spill across the page.
As a little girl, I was swept away by the magical performance of the Nutcracker.
With an amazing cast and a compelling spin on the tale of The Wizard of OZ, new life has been breathed into the O.Z. through Sci-Fi's mini-series, Tin Man.
I gave my heart to him but then realized that I did not share his love, and taking back my heart, I found that he still refuses to let go.
Black Friday is seen as the biggest sales day, but to those in retail, we see it as insanity unleashed.
A poem dedicated to the soldiers, the veterans who fought for us.
War is a seed in history's core, something within us, and there are still days, where it continues to grow.
The WGA Strike has led my thoughts to the creation of the world's end.
When we writers dream, we dream of fame, of living off of our writing, but when we get there, do we settle for a less than fair share of the sales created?
To live life is a dream unfulfilled except when I take to the pen.
If we fall victim to the monsters outside, do we retreat behind the walls of our world, the walls of our doll house?
Inspired by the wild fires.
I still walk the same line, wondering if my life will ever change.
In a sea of a million stars and a million dreamers, how will I know who you are? I will find you through Reality TV.
We all suffer from depression and addiction, and some of us lose the fight to them. But the war is far from over.
If health insurance were free, then there would be no need to suffer in silence and no need to fear the bill that would follow being cured, but to this day, we still have a price on life and on living...
A review on the captivating tale of one man's descent into the hands of the mob.
How can one let go when they still think that they are alive?
What I am now would not have been possible if she never saved my life.
Tim Kring's Heroes return to NBC to continue their journey ahead.
The cure for writer's block is to imagine living in the world of TV.
My life bleeds of secrets, creating the wall that I now tear down.
Secrets are the bricks in our wall as we live life around it.
The anniversary of 9/11 is this week, and I worry. Are we really safe?
The USA Network turns up the heat this summer with its shows, Dead Zone, the 4400, and Burn Notice, and starts to sizzle down with its season finales.
Moments of life will forever define me.
A portrait of time will forever remain within the chapters of history.
If the world ends, do we remain connected, or does existence simply fade away?
History's pages bleed with tragedy, but will the pages of the future remain untouched?
With large arms, Katrina swept it all away, but we still remain.
Tragedy darkens the world again, but we will once more survive this devastation.
In one moment, the world changed, and we changed with it.
Here lies the broken world, leaving us in shreds of humanity and the struggle of hope.
If I no longer remain unknown, will I still remain the same?
No matter how violent the dream, there is still a message waiting there.
The days ahead will be the history read.
Even before life, we know the world, and we remember how close we get to falling away from it.
My life has been put to the wheel, trying to survive the game of the Road Rage Drivers, and all I can do is survive their chase of rage.
The weight that one carries is even more heavier when witnessing self destruction.
No more will I write in the book of pain but finally free my life of the pages kept within.
Sometimes, we can't fit in, and we become the lost because we can't be them.
The dream to be saved is one that lets us slip away with the hope of coming back.
The lives painted ahead for us tell of freedom, but if we chose another path, will we still be free?
The truth is the whisper of change that some wish to deny the world, but can it remain imprisoned?
Peace is nothing but a dream, one found at the edge of the world, but even if we got there, we could never stay.
Life comes at you fast, and sometimes, you don't even see it coming.