I will try to post an inspirational poem each week from a favorite poet. The first is one that I have admired since my first read in the 9th grade. Maybe I didn’t understand it as well as I do today and of course Shakespeare is a little over used with the world of poetry, but Fear No More is not one of his over-done poems. With the way the world is today, war, poverty and everything else the same as the day Shakespeare wrote this sonnet, I feel rereading it again makes me interpet the meaning differently. Is it about love or death?

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun;
Nor the furious winter’s rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.

Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!

Tags: Love, Poetry, Writers
| Posted by Terry | No Comments »

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It is not the concept of loosing that has me down lately but more of the failure to realize that I might be on a loosing streak. Besides not keeping up with this and my other blogs, my apartment (how long till people realize the nicer I dress means I haven’t done a laundry in a while), ordering fast food is too easy in NYC since even McDonald’s Delivers, and of course the self inflicting curiosity of the fall tv season, what will suck and what will I tivo but still stay up and watch at the same time. All that might not look too bad but when adding the feeling of isolation, a good friend leaving town another on a verge of leaving and lonely old me writing a book for a year without settling on how the first chapter is going to start, or how dark or witty the character should be. It seems when your trying to aim for a bulls-eye the best way to get it is to take a whole bunch of darts walk up to the board and stab them hard into the red.

Cheating?

Maybe but it looks good, as long as everyone’s heads were too busy drinking or looking for a mate. What is the point of trying so hard with out a round of cheating, fudging, bluffing, blaming someone else or just not recalling your mistakes. After all that works for our current administration, but its kind of hard for a writer to cheat. Its hard to cheat on creativity, or to charge yourself back in for another round, another rewrite, another chapter where the hero reveals his inner self or just sits around playing spin the bottle with a three hundred year old female ghost.

It seems to me while I write it gets harder and hard to rewrite since once I change a small part back on page 1 it disturbs something that was written on page 62, and then that reflects another opinion on other pages which ultimately makes me think of the butterfly effect and then to those butterfly art pieces that freak me out since they look so real that I want to grab a net but there glued to some glass casing (only happened once.) Is a year to long not to be done with your first draft of your first novel? That isn’t a clear or interesting question since I’ve heard some people take decades, and others only months, I’ve never been called fast and use to have a nickname Turtle but thought it was because I was a little timid, well maybe thick headed.

As we throw our ideas out onto the dartboard of hell, and wish for a bulls-eye, it seems cheating might not be the only way but its also a great inspiration. Looking back at our placement of the darts, we can describe them, how they sit, how they puncture into the red crisp of our creative mind drawing the blood to the surface again and we can forget that we didn’t follow the rules getting them there, that when everyone turned there backs or kissed there girls I was alone for those ten seconds to use my creative genius sparking the inner pressure to impress. Yet most of the people around will never believe me, for proper reasoning, again be left by myself to come up with another original piece without bending the rules and need to make the time between work, eating (cooking instead of Chinese), cleaning, classes, working out and other things that distract you while living in New York like the riding on the subway. Have you noticed the increase number of young girls dying there hair riding the subway lately? Maybe that’s for another post… Maybe I’ll leave the darts on the red dot for a little while longer and gloat.

Tags: Blogging, New York City, Rant, Writing
| Posted by Terry | 1 Comment »

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