Something about the sound of the month October that seems poetic. It kind of slips off your tongue, or gets stuck in the back of your mouth building up saliva. Either way its awkward and sexy which are two things that make inspirational for me, maybe its the smell, moth balls come to mind – the ones my grandmother’s smelled like when I use to visit. Walking higher up into the the three story house the stronger the fumes were, making you dizzy at times until you realized it was the old cedar dressers in the third floor attic. Up there you could look into the two acre property over the multi-color orange-yellow leaves as they fell on the grass praying that you weren’t staying long enough for manual labor. But all the property made very large piles of leaves that were enjoyable to let your body leap backwards into the unknown hoping for a soft landing. Like writing we turn our backs and make a leap of faith, and hope for that soft landing as we did once as a kid. So here is to October and to the inspirations to the month ahead.
Tags: Poetry, Smell, Writing
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Posted by Terry |
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It is the middle of Tree Pollen Season in the North East of the United States. Yes. All you red puffy eyed, nasil dripping, wheezing and majority medicated comrades, I feel for you. It was 85 degrees today and the sun felt great warming up my face and skin from a zerod out winter. While I sneaked out for a minute (coffee addict) walking down the street the little yellow guys were waiting, floating all so cute through the air. As they gently fell from the trees guided by the constant east river wind, I panicked. Ducking, twisting my body as I walked down the block. With my iPod blasting and being in New York, I do blend in.
I am fully medicated which means that the pollen doesn’t bother me as much, but this still doesn’t make me happy that mother nature has released cyanide into the air to kill off some of us. She is trying to exterminate the lucky few of us who’s bodies over-react to harmless seeds. Really? What is the worst that could happen to us if we inhaled a lot of pollen – would roots start sprouting out of us? We would become trees, as they grow inside of us like a really bad b-movie. I do wish I could talk to my bodies chemist and yell at him for performing his job too well! Then I stop and think about it and reward the poor workaholic with a shot of Tequila.
Without the cure of modern medicine I would be a Bubble Boy and maybe then I could rant and rave about how Mother Nature is trying to kill me. I still think she is and has been for thirty plus years which means her cyanide does weaken me like kryptonite but hasn’t sent me pushing up the daisy’s yet.
Tags: Humor, iPod, Smell, Writing
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Posted by Terry |
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Writing exercise at the beach. The past weekend I returned to the North Shore of Long Island. The rocky beach of the sound inspired me to write and describe the texture of the rocks. Exzaming the texture and watching the faces on the barefooted beachers, grinding their teeth. Realizing how hard it would to capture the momment, i started by descrbing the senses. so here it is. The exercise:
At the beach describe the same scence three times. Each time only use two diffirent senses. All three scences should cover the five senses. Mix and match the senses but only keep with two at a time. The beach is an easy place to play with the senses. We feel touch, the warmth of the sun, water, sand beneath our feet. Taste the salt in the air, ice-cream or even the water. Smell the ocean or salt water, the BBQ or other foods around. Can hear the seagulls, waves and even under the water the noises we hear. Not to mention the seeing. There is a lot to see at the beach.
I will post mine up when its ready.
Tags: Smell, Touch, Writing
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Posted by Terry |
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