This is somewhere between a first and final draft…if you’ve got any comments/feedback, I’d be happy to hear it!
I’ve always been a very fond of magnetic poetry; it’s a great distraction and a wonderful way to relax. I thought it would be nice to post the poems that are currently up on my fridge before I tear them apart. These aren’t in any particular order; they were written over the past year by me, various friends, and my lovely partner. Continue reading
I have to admit that I love words like syzygy, synecdoche and metonymy. That’s one of the reasons I recently bought Rhetoric: Principles and Usage (1962, Richard E. Hughes and P. Albert Duhamel). The other (and better) reason is that I’m hoping to improve as a writer by broadening my horizons and addressing my weaknesses, rather than relying on native talent and hoping for the best. The book is a pleasant read, but, more importantly, it includes exercises. This morning I settled down at my typewriter to do one of the exercises, which I’ve decided to share on Windows of the Mind. The exercise was to describe the same place/event twice, first in an objective tone and then in an impressionistic tone. I enjoyed writing the two descriptions and being aware of how my style shifted — consciously and unconsciously — to accommodate the difference in tone.
Softly, uncurling into vision
Adrift, reaching for blossoming
Floating in the dark unknown
Searching for the unsought.
A thrust, breaking the surface
Extended, grasping at infinity
Straining at the lethargy of Ages
Striving for novelty.
drawn ever closer to the dancing flame,
yearning for that searing touch.
Hoping, clinging fervently to the future,
warned by the past.
Lost in the moment of a silent gaze,
breath held, waiting for release.
Strained, stretched between dreams and despair.
Bound, nearly bursting.
Let us stop fearing to lose what we have but rather begin to revel in what we are! Let us cast aside our cherished possessions and our alienated selves! Let this be the rallying cry of a lost generation, of a youth dispossessed of themselves by a world of possessions. May we no longer have questions and answers, friends and lovers, thoughts and feelings but strive to ask and to respond, to befriend and to love, to think and to feel! To the troubled masses I call out; to the white-washed, white-collared, well-oiled cog I cry: Be!
There’s quite a lot of liberty taken with science in Doctor Who, but that’s never bothered me. It’s a fun, romping, thoroughly entertaining show which I almost always enjoy — and I absolutely love the timey-wimey paradoxes Steven Moffat comes up with. Some episodes have even risen to the level of interesting social commentary or moving emotional content. However, this post isn’t supposed to be a paean of praise for Doctor Who. Instead, I’d like to rant about a particular peeve of mine. Continue reading