Thursday, March 5, 2009

Describe a Typical Morning in Highly Metaphorical Language

The sun examines me asleep; and as one knows when he is being considered a vista, my eyes know that it is day. I remagnify my duties: help me, Lord, for I am astride the sea.

3 comments:

  1. This was tough! I would consider this a failure as far as the exercise goes. (I didn't nearly communicate a typical morning.) But I find what I wrote beautiful, so that's a plus. AZ

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  2. A typical morning. . .
    A grey light slipped between the slats of the blinds in my bedroom. The whispering sound of millions of people waking, breathing, speaking, walking and eating hovered at the door of my consciousness. THe city is never really quiet, but at this early hour it is a lamb in comparison to the lion it would soon become. I stir from my nest of blankets and gingerly touch a toe to the iceblock of a floor. "heat's not working again," I mutter, my thoughts like cobwebs tangled in my mind. I fish for my slippers under the bed until my feet find them. I shuffle over to the window and open the blinds. The steel grey sky hangs low over the buildings like a metal canopy. 'Rain' I think, and then the avalanche of the day's obligations hits me. I sigh, and go to make some coffee.


    IT was a lion of a morning; the wind howling like wolves in search of prey. The old wooden bones of the house creaked and somewhere I heard the hammertap of rain hitting the floor. The Weather Channel warned us that a freight train of of a nor'easter would barrel its way up the east coast, dumping buckets of rain and high wind. I should get up, I thought. I should see where that rain in coming in. But instead I wound myself more tightly in the cocoon of sleep, my blankets enveloping me, protecting me from the monster storm.

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  3. i will try to write one when i am free! i just discovered this blog! I really like this.

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