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<h1>Zk | Fossils</h1>
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<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">poetry</span> <span class="tag">fossils</span></p>
<h2 id="high-school-poetry-notebook">High school poetry notebook</h2>
<h3 id="cleaning-woman">Cleaning Woman</h3>
<div class="verse">I'd clean for him
I would
but
Cleaning, I'd hope
for a little
something back.
I told him
I told him once
Telling, I'd hoped
for something
to fill me.
But I cleaned for him
as he'd asked,
my husband.
And here I am
and nothing's changed.</div>
<hr />
<h3 id="free-write-poem">Free-write poem</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>This was also labeled "free ponies :) :) :)" and I only vaguely remember why.</p>
</blockquote>
<div class="verse">The eroticism of oranges
How seductive,
Freakshows pondering
A murder weapon.
Secret clementine
Tells of a third, dense.
The first in somnambulant arms
Of the second, citrus fancier.
Live as normal,
Death by paper.</div>
<hr />
<h3 id="ode-to-turn-signals">Ode to Turn Signals</h3>
<div class="verse">A steady white lights
Stops, none goes;
Though on blinking happy off
Turns, informing.
Click flashing click
By turning on grants
And behind, those praising
Seeing, now know.
So up or to down leftright
Click, push and becomes.</div>
<hr />
<h3 id="syntax-poem">Syntax poem</h3>
<div class="verse">Every time I fall,
The ground tells me I'm in love.
Be he the tamed?
No, family sheep?
Spades, four,
And one white, domesticated,
Was my favorite.
He who could, he had
Need in friends,
Your better cream!
Ice, you love got
All need.
And 'cause love is
All low.
And love is
Places.</div>
<hr />
<h3 id="dialog-poem">Dialog poem</h3>
<div class="verse">I love this song.
What are you saying?
You hate it.
Any sense of melody is lost
In chords
Obscured by the weight of Tone.
Harmony rules itself out.
Think of the meaning, not just the music.
The words are in Spanish.
Does that matter?
Spanish words in chords so thick,
You have to peer through the fog of harmony for the light of melody.
And on top,
Cheap sound effects.
I suppose I don't listen to it much.
That's why I like it.
I suppose you don't listen to it much.
That's why you hate it.</div>
<hr />
<h2 id="the-four-winds">The Four Winds</h2>
<p><q class="comment">In <em>ally</em></q></p>
<div class="verse">I.
Borne through air,
Close my eyes.
Wind ruffles hair
Soul sighs,
Heart flies;
Im the wind.
I flow east:
Over the plains,
Over land creased.
Current refrains,
Cloud stains
As I build.
Trees bow at my
Will
To move drives me
Onward
I push through
Mountains
Do nothing but
Divert
The rain as I
Flow.
II.
Borne through air -
Rise up high -
Driven there,
Earth nigh,
I sigh;
Im the wind.
I flow west:
Past the lakes,
Water my guest;
Thunder makes
Noise, wakes,
As I storm.
Sand flies at my
Force
Builds as I
Push
Across the
Land
Flows beneath my
Self
Means nothing to
Wind.
III.
Borne through air,
Through the night
And dawn fair.
No fight,
Only flight;
Im the wind.
I flow south
On the ocean,
On deltas mouth
My motion
Just notion
As I breathe.
Waves break as I
Drive
Past the thin
Sands
Lift themselves to my
Body
Waxes as I
Press
Through the stillness of
Night.
IV.
Borne through air,
Around the world
And forests I tear;
Ferns furled,
Trees burled;
I am the wind.
I flow north,
Across the ice;
I roll forth
Past spice
So nice
As I change.
Men bask as I
Warm
Drops of rain
Fall
Colored leaves
Shiver
Because of the
Chill
Wind blows on
Past.</div>
<hr />
<p><q class="comment">In <em>ally</em></q></p>
<div class="verse">The undersides
off gray
of clouds
drift
while I
on the path
stand
above
where the crow flies
me.
Off
with purple
gray, I
wandering
ponder, should
in a perfect
were there such a thing
world
be a
though the word is plain
color with it's own
to name
as they say
creates
word.
It soothes.</div>
<hr />
<h2 id="the-rise-and-fall-of-gods-a-fragment">The Rise and Fall of Gods -- a fragment</h2>
<p><q class="comment">In <em>ally</em></q></p>
<div class="verse">I.
What hath man wrought!
When faced with the question of love
Or seeking peace with the answer thereof,
Or faced with life peril-fraught,
Created a god, or several, to satisfy
Some need to fulfill or deny
A lacking -
A slacking
On someone else's behalf,
Or his own behalf -
And on the world a question of faith brought.
And when a man, endowed
With the ability to make his own God,
Does so with nary a nod,
And finds the god shan't be cowed,
What does he then?
And when a group of men
Make their God
With nary a nod,
And cow him easily, rightly
To them, and find him tightly
bound, what then, with a god bowed?
What then, indeed, should a God,
Now lesser than his creators, do
When his creators move to gods new?
Is he then still a God?
Or is that when God dies,
Not bloated with swarms of flies,
But forgotten?
Not rotten,
Forgotten and immortal, what then?
Does he hope to come again,
Rising a second time, perhaps again to be God?
One would hope that the God, being omniscient
Would realize he was no longer, otherwise
Might he become destructive? Likewise,
A god, waiting patient
Could become restless,
Try to leave his creators breathless,
Again,
But then,
Be pronounced a heretic
By all but the hermetic
And others of the new God ignorant.
So hence a people divided
Those of Whispers and those of Nanon,
Fight to the tooth and fight to the bone,
Until over Whispers Nanon presided;
And when those of Nanon took
Speech from the Whispers so as to look
And not hear,
They here
Those of Whispers with
Supposed powers of myth
Of creation with speech's remnants provided.
So it was before the fall of Whispers that
Faith of most all lay in technology,
Remnants of religion lay in astrology
And superstitious fears like the black cat.
Only after the fall did the faiths
Of only the Whisperers turn to mysterious wraiths
And gods,
But the odds
That one of the gods was taken more seriously
Than the rest was small, and not mysteriously,
The small bit of Faith quickly passed as society's scat
Now, it's come that those of Nanon have all but forgotten
Those of Whispers except perhaps in myth
Maybe portrayed as consorting with
Black cats or something equally rotten.
But for the Whisperers, the city
Of Nanon is very real, also denial of pity
Of sunlight,
For sunlight
Is blocked by the city directly overhead
And the Whisperers know of only shadow instead;
Only death out from beneath the city to be gotten.
The magic that's spoken of those
Of the Whispers, is often made
Out to be more, but because of their stayed
Speech, only whispers remain in quite prose.
So through the long stretches of time,
The Whisperers, through long stretches of rhyme
Can make -
Only make -
What they wish, with words divine,
Benign, or malign,
And in their creations complete trust repose.
So begins a story, often told but never yet writ
Of a divided people still the same
And the rise and fall of a god played like a game.
While not true itself, it is truth lit:
As men continue to create and live under gods,
What would happen if the gods, at odds,
Warred and fell,
Raising hell
In the process? What would happen
In a society misshapen
If a wrathful god fell and no one cared a whit?</div>
<h3 id="notes">Notes:</h3>
<div class="verse">Notes from the post following this one:
Some parallel universe or future or somesuch where empathy is/has become a major sense. Big-brother type thing ruling over citizens &amp; magic, main character tries to break free etc etc. Futurological Congress helped inspire the dream that inspired this. Anyways, life expectancy increased, dead (god fell) takes on a new sense involving how other people perceive you with empathic sense (need a snazzy name for that. empathesia?) Story about main character as he slowly 'dies', but tries to overcome corrupt powers. Sorta cliche, oh well.
Setting: mix between furcadia-ish (energetic.gif) and big city with no windows <em>shrug</em>
reconciling religion and magic
magic of Sabriel, Abhorsens servants (sorta), death still final, but with a twist, magic just a part of humans provided by god that only recently got discovered. Charter = man's constriction on his own free magic
sound, words, and actions in religion and magic, synaesthesia, poetry and music's effect on people -&gt; subjective/subtle magic -&gt; subjective time, location, perception Death in Sabriel, "90 degrees from everything" in SiaSL
(Ran)Gerig/Kerrick
Simon
Joshua
Max
Josef
Partitions of magic, levels controlled by gov't. Magic-&gt;influence. Mana. Gov't messed w/perceptions "oblivious to the fact that if they weren't oblivious, they'd probably be screaming in pain" or empathy explosion: cares &amp; worries turned into reality (starving children in africa makes it impossible to not clean your plate, water conservation hurts once you learn about it).</div>
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<p>Page generated on 2020-04-24</p>
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