Poetry is all about listening to yourself and listening to those “voices” that speak to you. The way I write poetry is by listening to these voices that begin like hunches and even melodies, and for those who want to write poetry, my best advice is to grab a piece of paper and pencil and just do it.
The Sun Also Rises, a story was inspired by Hemingway’s first bullfight experience. His graphic description of the running of the bulls at Pamplona’s Fiesta de San Fermín certainly helped popularize a local event into the world’s most recognized ‘bovine madness party’ which attracts over a million visitors every year.
A peek at some of the contributions our friends on Tillism have made in the past 100 days.
An image snapped into focus. A setting, an emotion I could relate to: a recent walk around the city lakes in the rain, pushing the children in their barnevogn, swans and cormorants gliding along beside us, me drowning in homesickness.
“But he couldn’t remember the mimosa flowering in March, neither this year when the lockdown was starting, nor last year when he was convalescing and homebound. He remembered, instead, filming the mimosa tree in a windstorm, three years ago, when the world seemed safer.”
“Amma, he said through clenched teeth. “I’m sure you’ve discovered through your WhatsApp forwards that there’s talk of a lockdown. How can we possibly have a wedding at a time like this?”
“What an odd sight we make, I thought. Three nuns, three Thai women, and two farang (foreigners) coiling like a long snake down a side street.”
‘Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.’ from Their Eyes Were Watching God