a busker is one of those people that play music in the streets for money. =)
Journal, Diary, & Blogging / sunset
sitting outside, i glaze my eyes upon the world. the sky is full of striking pigments. such beauty, starting from a pale, baby blue, it evolves into a pallete of crimson and yellow swirls. a symphony of noises … it is nature. nature – mother nature we might say. her powers to make the days come and go, the tide to rise and fall, the moon and the sun – to dance in the sky. something so simple and so divine that is often taken for granted. material things fill the void in our lives, rather than a breathtaking sunset, or a onyx night sky, dimly lit with a myriad of sparkling stars. i see a busker, meddling in the streets, coeval with the business of the passer-bys. shaking his can full of wrinkled and soft dollars, copper and silver coins, he appears to live in an obtuse world, a halycon of his mind. i wish i was like him. i wish i had the courage to peregrinate with no worries, a simple denizen with just a smile on my face, and a muted comprehension of life. it is only then when i would no longer live for the world, the world would live for me.
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This is affected bizarro blog nonsense par excellence. You are channelling your poetical soul through the medium of the blog and for this, you should be given a carnation.
Many lovely phrases to choose from here, and you evoke for me the image of a tormented poet, writhing on a runny lawn leaking various smelly midsummer flowers, tangling himself up in the albatross of punctuation.
Express yourself like this always and forever, and you shall become a blog superstar in the bizarro poetical trashcan of Blogland.
Claire
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The last line is profound, and definitely struck a chord. We do spend too much time being busy and self-important to sit back and actually enjoy the glory of the world and Nature. Only by being in touch with our planet can we hope to make the most of it!
Great descriptions by the way, the sunsets must be great as you’ve imagined them.
Interesting. It should be posted as fiction of some sort, regardless whether it was written as part of a blog or not. I see you are adhering to the ee cummings school of no capitals, which is so popular on this site.
Some mistakes:
“pallete” = palette
That’s it actually. I really like some of the poetic expressions you use here, lines such as “onyx night sky” and “muted comprehension of life” show you have a knack for contemplative fiction.
I would channel this into storytelling in some way.
I agree with the sentiments, incidentally.
H
sitting outside, i glaze my eyes upon the world. This doesn’t sound right. How about. Sitting outside, my eyes study the world that surrounds me. What is a symphony of noises? what makes the noise? Explain. The piece is poignant. i see a busker, meddling in the streets, coeval … good line. I don’t know what a busker is but i am sure you do. The scene you describe is easily visualized.
The last line is wonderful; it makes alot of sense. I am certianly not the grammer police. Sometimes i am not so careful. However, i think you might need to look at the comma splices here, ok. It distracts the reader. Thanks Sandi.
I absolutely love it. The descriptive words the picture you paint beautiful. I agree the world is so busy with all the hustle bustle that many don’t take the time to revel in the beauty of the magnificence of this earth. Beautifully written!
wow i was so transfixed and i could visualize what you said that was amazing!
I like ‘the sky is full of striking pigments .. from pale baby blue .. crimson & yellow swirls.’
a nice entry. alot of people when viewing a sunset will think about their lives. you tell your thoughts nicely here.
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