Today I did not take any classes. I did odd jobs today. Today was an idle day but not for my brain. I was thinking about the tropes—figures of speech, especially about Metaphors and Metonymy. They are so amazingly identical and I thought of letting my pen go loose on them. I also thought of Malaprop.
She sheeted her husband.
She was singing muse-ic
He mouthed obscenities. Arms shot a man. The flower blossomed in her garden. Let the law take its own course. Her mind was bitter grapes. The author is a sea of imagination. Gardens flowered the pen. The desert of habit is boring. He trimmed the beard of the lawns. Hope is a God Given Gift. He wore the looks of steal. Don’t Shakespearize my angst. Christ is the heaven of love. Christ is the earth of Grace. A tempest of fury raged in her. Hotel California portrays the decadence and disillusionment of the 70’s. Princess Diana is a miserable death. Rock Stars grind as musical devils. I live with the taste of Indonesian Grilled Fish. Clove cigarettes of Indonesia are the smoke of perfume. Gandhi is a peaceful sanctuary. Limbs of God adorned her neck. Taj is a monument remembered in the heart.