What a dumb title for a person who never got a single star on her piano lessons!
Daily practice is the thing though: the practice of noticing as well as of writing.
However, I'd much rather play duets than solos, so hop right in! You can do the melody or the base part, I don't care. Just play along--we'll make up the tune as we go.
I'll try to write regularly and deliberately. Sometimes I will do it poorly, tritely, stiltedly, obscurely. I will try to persevere regardless. It seems to be where my heart wants to go, and that means to me that God wants me there too.
I had extremely little idea of what my classmate's father's did to put bread on their tables. We all were homeowners, but I wouldn't have thought we were better than others because my mother spent her money on lavish dinner parties and I ate less "well" when at friends' houses. Her day-to-day cooking wasn't very appetizing. She never deemed her own family "audience" enough for her best results in the kitchen.
I think that's one thing I will definitely miss from the American culture as I continue to age here in France: they availability of serious study possibilities for those beyond university years. I'm not even sure I could enroll in one and take their classes.
And of course, since I am a foreigner here not writing in French, I cannot benefit from the writing groups I might be able to find.
Online situations (as proposed here, for example) are not very enriching, alas.
Which is your title: An untimely death or Time paradigm?
I like this quite a lot. My first read had me thinking about buttons in the first paragraph. Then I realized you were talking about watches. I would, however, leave out the word "time" until you mentioned the word watch, in order to let the reader wonder just a bit longer what you were truly describing. And the better poets would try and eliminate any direct reference to watches and time-telling pieces in order to perfectly describe these elements without using the telltale words people expect to be written when describing them.
Be careful of repetition: tick, ticking and ticklessly. This last is brilliant. Find other synonymous so the expected word "tick" arrives at last with your highly poetic variation.
I have been homeless too. Incredible people. Amazing survival skills. I stayed in a shelter and know all about the demeaning side that Chewie mentions. Not fun.
As for wars... we haven't had a war on American soil since 1865. We forget. The situation in Summer of 1968 was bad... but nothing like it was a century before. Pray for those who aren't only homeless today (here, abroad) but have no social network to sustain them. Many do not survive.
Weeds will be taken care of by winter by-the-way...
I have been homeless. Being homeless doesn't always mean the shelter or the streets or even being jobless. Sometimes it is a hidden thing that no one is allowed to see. There is as much stigma attached to being homeless as their is to mental illness in this country. People want to quantify and pigeonhole you. I was homeless with a job and a car. I lived in my car. I showered at a local laundromat with pay for use showers. I just didn't have a roof over my head. They have rules and conditions and treat you like a dependent child in a shelter. Not an able bodied adult with a temporary problem.
What a pleasant surprise to see you this morning! Hope all is well with you. On Easter morning I always wake up singing Easter Parade for some reason (must be childhood related). Secular it may be but anything that brings a smile can't be all bad. Thanks to Irving B. I love your poem. It brought back many memories .
I remember new Easter clothes worn for the first time to Easter service. The family meal afterwards and the egg hunt. That was the 60s. Don't remember chocolate. Consumerism has taken over everything that used to have spirituality instead. A sad state of affairs.
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