rain: memory, imagination, and poetic exaggerations
ozarque posted a nifty writing form/idea: http://ozarque.livejournal.com/599342.html Those of you who enjoy the writer's block memes might like this (onlyonechoice, kyaraelf, I'm thinking especially of you). ruthling might not, at least this year...
I posted in her comments, and then thought of some more, and am posting all of them here... it's funny how my mind pulled pieces of my lifestory, and then some of them mutated a bit as I wrote them, seeking a wordvoice that might fit them. I wonder how they would change if I let them be drafts and rewritten further before putting them down.
THE RAIN THAT STOPPED, leaving lamp-lit mist we all walked in for hours, saying little. My lifelong sense and expectations of friendships, colored forever with joy, for all that circle itself has not remained.
THE DEEP NIGHT DOWNPOUR that forced a pause on a leaving journey. Between places, I napped until the headlights could guide me again. I remember that night each time I pass back there: I never wholly left. I have stopped minding.
THE IMPLAUSIBLE RAIN in fantasy novels, where no on really seems to be soaked through, risk hypothermia or pneumonia, or have their footwear (and feet) rot.
THE WEARING RAIN that exhausted her spirit, eroded her joy.
THE WEDDING RAIN that, meant to indicate both good and bad luck, failed brutally.
THE RAIN THAT WASN'T FIRE: a fire might've cleared the space wholly, yet less ruinously, than the rain caused the flood. She thought she could recover, clean and reorganize all the old and unneeded things silted through, some half-rotted. After a year of suffering, she still does not believe herself mistaken.
THE BLESSING RAIN that is always the same though the stories keep changing. The wheat, the corn, the flowers, the garden. The roof that tested, no longer leaks. The sorrow that eases. The clouds on the mountain; the creeks shall be full.
THE RAIN I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED, soaking half-dry laundry. I must now buy more propane for the dryer or face mildew. Yet I am grateful, because I can, for now.
THE ASPHALT-DUST-SMELLING RAIN that blesses my skin and makes my nose laugh after a long, dry, hot day. It may be time for an ice cream cone.
I posted in her comments, and then thought of some more, and am posting all of them here... it's funny how my mind pulled pieces of my lifestory, and then some of them mutated a bit as I wrote them, seeking a wordvoice that might fit them. I wonder how they would change if I let them be drafts and rewritten further before putting them down.
THE RAIN THAT STOPPED, leaving lamp-lit mist we all walked in for hours, saying little. My lifelong sense and expectations of friendships, colored forever with joy, for all that circle itself has not remained.
THE DEEP NIGHT DOWNPOUR that forced a pause on a leaving journey. Between places, I napped until the headlights could guide me again. I remember that night each time I pass back there: I never wholly left. I have stopped minding.
THE IMPLAUSIBLE RAIN in fantasy novels, where no on really seems to be soaked through, risk hypothermia or pneumonia, or have their footwear (and feet) rot.
THE WEARING RAIN that exhausted her spirit, eroded her joy.
THE WEDDING RAIN that, meant to indicate both good and bad luck, failed brutally.
THE RAIN THAT WASN'T FIRE: a fire might've cleared the space wholly, yet less ruinously, than the rain caused the flood. She thought she could recover, clean and reorganize all the old and unneeded things silted through, some half-rotted. After a year of suffering, she still does not believe herself mistaken.
THE BLESSING RAIN that is always the same though the stories keep changing. The wheat, the corn, the flowers, the garden. The roof that tested, no longer leaks. The sorrow that eases. The clouds on the mountain; the creeks shall be full.
THE RAIN I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED, soaking half-dry laundry. I must now buy more propane for the dryer or face mildew. Yet I am grateful, because I can, for now.
THE ASPHALT-DUST-SMELLING RAIN that blesses my skin and makes my nose laugh after a long, dry, hot day. It may be time for an ice cream cone.