Terry Corcoran
A starving artist, but rich in life. Poet, essayist, social activist, sports fan, tomboy. Invisibly disabled. Working in non-profit sector. Former teacher's aide, salesperson, marketer, singer, dancer. Dabble in arts. Book addict. Always looking for ways to live more kindly and spread understanding.
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- Contributor since
- 5/22/2011
Displaying Results 1 - 19 (of 19) for All Content
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Kite Flying in a Tornadostorms are both majestic and simple. Just... enjoy
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Storm of Armourwhat you choose to overcome matters. How you choose to be inspired, doesn't.
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The Silencepost 9/11
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Waiting for Springwaiting for spring of the soul
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MosaicWe build ourselves over time, through experience, and changing perspective. And we can only hope that the core remains true.
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What is PovertyHaving a chronic illness can feel... smothering, lonely. We press our noses to the window, wishing, looking for things we can't have. But we have more than we realise. And sometimes it takes a misbehaving wheelchair to drive me message home.
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I Am Running Out of Toothpaste(corrected version) part of what we do to show the world our "good" side...
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Dignityvisiting a friend in hospital, humbled by the dignity and patience of patients...
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Conversations with My Leg - RetortAnd the "bad" leg answers back - handicapped - deal with it!
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Conversations with My Legfrustrations from living with a disability - remembering what my body used to do, and trying to get my bad leg to remember what it's SUPPOSED to do.
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Turtle ShellI once had dreams of changing the world - but the world has changed me...
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Impatiencewaiting
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I Am Runing Out of Toothpastejust past of what we do to show the world a good side...
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My Father's VoiceI was 19 when I lost my dad - and until then I thought I was all grown up. But I continue to learn from him every day. His voice resonates in my soul
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Meteor Showerslying in a city park at midnight, a personal fireworks show. -
Weekend Getawayredefining the staycation.
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Batting PracticeWe love baseball for its own narrative, but also as a metaphor
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Words with My FatherOur dads gift us with lessons we may not acknowledge until much later. My father's greatest gift to me was language. Words are the shells of meaning - and he taught me to seek the truth inside each word and share the joy. -
You're Not a SphinxWe all appreciate advice, feedback, and a sympathetic listener. But really - it would help if the feedback were simple!


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