Fall by Edward Hirsch

Mar. 5th, 2015 02:21 pm
substructure: (structure :: winged)
[personal profile] substructure posting in [community profile] poetry
Fall, falling, fallen. That's the way the season
Changes its tense in the long-haired maples
That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves
Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition
With the final remaining cardinals) and then
Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last
Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground.
At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees
In a season of odd, dusky congruences— a scarlet tanager
And the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever
Loping down the center of a wide street and the sun
Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance,
A gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud
Blamelessly filling the space with purples. Everything
Changes and moves in the split second between summer's
Sprawling past and winter's hard revision, one moment
Pulling out of the station according to schedule,
Another moment arriving on the next platform. It
Happens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away
From their branches and gather slowly at our feet,
Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving
Around us even as its colorful weather moves us,
Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets.
And every year there is a brief, startling moment
When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and
Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless
Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air:
It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies;
It is the changing light of fall falling on us.

happy snow day to me

Mar. 5th, 2015 09:13 am
glass_icarus: (winter girl)
[personal profile] glass_icarus
Hello, 29! It is WHITE outside and getting steadily whiter. On the one hand, I'm tired of snow, and it looks like Narnia wants to stay up in these parts. On the other, weather issues mean I definitely won't make it in to work, so I'm making up my office time tomorrow.

What should I do with all this unexpected free time, you guys??? (Other than baking, that is.) Tell me!

False Dawn by Patrick Lane

Mar. 3rd, 2015 12:21 pm
substructure: (mary :: carefully carefully)
[personal profile] substructure posting in [community profile] poetry
We turn to words because there’s not much
more to turn to. I love you becomes what I used to call
the dark. I prayed this morning. It wasn’t much,
just me and the god I understand. The earliest birds
wake me now and I keep getting up into what
others call false dawn. I know it sweeter.
That’s the hard part, knowing darkness is there
and singing anyway. Becoming more
becomes less. It’s like an origami dove
chased by a flying child, a kind of solitude
so perfect you keep searching even as you know
there is no cure. I think misery is mostly
what we know. Yet there are days I overflow with love.
My friends are so fragile I’m afraid
to take their hands for fear I’ll break them.
This morning I set out the early sprinkler
and out of the darkness robins came
and varied thrushes I thought our cats had killed.
The water from our highest mountains turned
and turned above our earth
and all the birds went under that falling
with everything they had.
Maybe that’s the measure.
Maybe in the morning light we pray
and rain falls and we lift to its falling
as if we still had feathers, as if with words
we could scrape the sky clean of every kind of pain.

5 things

Mar. 3rd, 2015 10:15 am
marina: (masks off)
[personal profile] marina
1. Well, I got a little more sleep, my period is over, the weather is nicer and I guess I'm feeling a bit better overall.

2. Still no apartment, still utterly fucked on grad school (SO, SO FUCKED). At some point I have to own up to the fact that I'm way past the red zone and I have to buckle down and start using every goddamn resource including friends who could maybe give me advice but to whom I don't want to admit my failure and work colleagues who have a slim chance of helping but who I absolutely hate asking. It's just, this will take so much emotional and mental energy, it would be difficult to do on a good day. In the middle of apartment hunting and other drama it's... difficult. I need to have like a billion unpleasant conversations with people I don't know, the thought of which makes my skin crawl, and all for the slimmest of chances at "victory".

But it's this or give up and I guess I'm not done clawing at the world to give me this thing yet.

3. This morning [personal profile] roga and I and a friend of hers who slept over all got up at roughly the same time and were going about our morning routines together ([personal profile] roga and I don't normally see each other in the mornings) and it made me suddenly excited for Amsterdam. Ah, April, when I will get to share a bathroom with two of my favorite people in the world. LOL. It's very weird - because, like most introverts I know I am in no way someone who enjoys being social in the morning - how much I'm yearning to be stuck in a tiny room with two other people and one bathroom. But, I don't know. Maybe it's that I've missed close intimacy with loved ones. Maybe it's that I just want to be on vacation already, somewhere away for a week. Probably a lot of it has to do with the fact that I met both of these friends in the military, so there's something familiar and comforting about sharing close quarters with them again.

4. Remember how I lost my ipad recently? Well, I decided to just say fuck it and buy a new one. I use it all the time, if I wait until buying it is smart or appropriate I'll spend a year suffering. Well, I bought the newest model (actually cheaper than mine was originally) and it turned out to have a faulty battery. Going to the store to replace it means leaving work early, driving 30+ minutes in traffic in each direction. I won't even tell you how much time and money I've already spent on this shit, but finally I got it replaced. Guess what - the new one they gave me also has a faulty battery. AHAHA. HAHA. /o\ Someone please shoot me. The store currently refuses to just give me a refund, I wonder how much of their merchandise I'll have to go through and how many hours and days of my life I'll have to spend paying for my fucking stupidity in losing the original tablet.

5. On twitter I was recently talking to [personal profile] anatsuno about American History X and how it cemented my love for Edward Norton in a weird way. tw: Neo Nazis )

Phone Call by Tony Hoagland

Mar. 2nd, 2015 09:30 am
substructure: (structure :: fate)
[personal profile] substructure posting in [community profile] poetry
Maybe I overdid it
when I called my father an enemy of humanity.
That might have been a little strongly put,
a slight exaggeration,

an immoderate description of the person
who at the moment, two thousand miles away,
holding the telephone receiver six inches from his ear,
must have regretted paying for my therapy.

What I meant was that my father
was an enemy of my humanity
and what I meant behind that
was that my father was split
into two people, one of them

living deep inside of me
like a bad king or an incurable disease—
blighting my crops,
striking down my herds,
poisoning my wells—the other
standing in another time zone,
in a kitchen in Wyoming
with bad knees and white hair spouting from his ears.

I don’t want to scream forever,
I don’t want to live without proportion
Like some kind of infection from the past,

so I have to remember the second father,
the one whose TV dinner is getting cold
while he holds the phone in his left hand
and stares blankly out the window

where just now the sun is going down
and the last fingertips of sunlight
are withdrawing from the hills
they once touched like a child.

"Motion's Holdings" by A.R. Ammons

Mar. 1st, 2015 06:23 pm
jjhunter: Watercolor of daisy with blue dots zooming around it like Bohr model electrons (science flower)
[personal profile] jjhunter posting in [community profile] poetry
For more about the author, check out the A.R. Ammons episode of Essential American Poets.
---

MOTION'S HOLDINGS

The filled out gourd rots, the
ridge rises in a wave
height cracks into peaks, the peaks

wear down to low undoings whose undertowing
throws other waves up: the branch
of honeysuckle leaves arcs outwards

into its becoming motion but,
completion's precision done, gives
over riddling free to other

motions: boulders, their green and white
moss-molds, high-held in moist
hill woods, stir, hum with

stall and spill, take in and give
off heat, adjust nearby to
geomagnetic fields, tip liquid with

change should a trunk or rock loosen
to let rollers roll, or they loll
inwardly with earth's lie

in space, oxidize at their surfaces
exchanges with fungal thread and rain:
things are slowed motion that,

slowed too far, falls loose, freeing debris:
but in the outgoing warps, the butterfly
amaryllis crowds its bowl with bulbs.

Russian fail in Jupiter Ascending

Mar. 1st, 2015 06:57 pm
marina: (Kenzi shrug)
[personal profile] marina
So, the last few days have been atrocious (those of you read my last RL-related post - things haven't improved since, on any front, and well, stress wears you down). Today I had to say goodbye to my brand new tablet for a few days, in exchange for the slim hope that the store will either fix its battery or replace it (ahahaha good luck to me on that!) so I'm basically a tiny ball of stress, pain and exhaustion waiting for it to get late enough that I'll let myself go to bed.

If the world was kind, I'd at least have my tablet to keep me busy, but alas. And so, we have this.

Russian fail in Jupiter Ascending )

Art Lessons, by Yoon Ha Lee

Mar. 1st, 2015 11:30 pm
ironed_orchid: (tell me about your mother)
[personal profile] ironed_orchid posting in [community profile] poetry
witches' daughters learn to draw
with blackened hearts and sharpened bones
crayons the color of curdled ambition
paper pounded to the point of ripping

witches' daughters learn perspective inside-out
and memorize the anatomy of shadows
they turn stick figures into Rorschach stains
and scribble their names outside the lines

witches' daughters learn to hide their self-portraits
and poison their still lifes with crushed smiles
of course, it's the same thing that anyone learns
growing up a woman

Mermaid Syndrome, by Jennifer Crow

Mar. 1st, 2015 11:32 am
ironed_orchid: (not a mermaid)
[personal profile] ironed_orchid posting in [community profile] poetry
You wake from dreams of inlaid
mother-of-pearl with your hair
in seaweed tangles and your legs
wound in damp sheets.
A fishy smell percolates
through the apartment,
and the shower tastes like brine.
When you sing to yourself
the neighborhood cats purr on the sill
and the delivery man
whistles from the street. He knocks,
but forgets why because the song
dies on your lips.
Beneath the bus's hum and screech
you hear the susurrus
of waves and distant cries of gulls.
Your clothes constrict -- at work,
during your lunch break you loosen
your blouse past the point of decency
and splash chlorinated water
on flushed cheeks. Behind your reflection
a beach awaits you -- volcanic sands
polished by the tide, and your sisters
weeping for joy in the surf.

"love is a place" - e.e. cummings

Feb. 28th, 2015 11:23 pm
ironed_orchid: comic of monster saying "i don't want to be just friends, I want to eat you" (don't want to be 'just friends')
[personal profile] ironed_orchid posting in [community profile] poetry
love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places

yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds
ironed_orchid: (balloons)
[personal profile] ironed_orchid posting in [community profile] poetry
Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or a trysting-place,
The woods we have found to walk?

Is it a mirage or miracle,
Your lips that lift at mine:
And the suns like a juggler's juggling-balls,
Are they a sham or a sign?

Shine out, my sudden angel,
Break fear with breast and brow,
I take you now and for always,
For always is always now

(no subject)

Feb. 27th, 2015 11:30 pm
denise: Image: Me, facing away from camera, on top of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome (Default)
[staff profile] denise posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance
If you're seeing slow page load times, pages not fully loading, missing icons, 'naked' pages (the text of the page only, without any styling, etc): please shift-refresh your browser, clear your browser cache, and then just hang tight. We're switching CDN providers, so your browser may have cached the wrong copy of things.

If the problem hasn't cleared up by tomorrow, then let us know and we'll look into it further!

it had no pit

Feb. 27th, 2015 03:34 pm
bossymarmalade: (pre-coital coffee)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
So [personal profile] glockgal and I ended our tumblr DCU RP after three years, and we both feel good about it b/c we accomplished a lot of what we'd wanted to and wrote with a lot of incredible people and characters. But three years is a long time to mod something, and our entire energy stocks have been used up by shenanigans (the best example? One person flounced and then three months later snuck back into the game to try and take us down from the inside). So goodbye Justice Lounge, you were wonderful and productive.

Anyhoo! If any of you wonderful folks are on tumblr in the wilds of indie RPing, here's my Ollie Queen journal. I am not actively searching for non-DCU characters to write with but if it's any of you fine folks that's a different kettle of fish! Also I have some AU 'verses up, so if you ever wanted to write your character in a Deadwood or Boogie Nights (ish) AU then come on over. :)

A co-worker just gave me an olive that had been stuffed with lemon and I must say it was PHENOMENAL.

LLAP

Feb. 27th, 2015 02:53 pm
glass_icarus: (trek: live long & prosper)
[personal profile] glass_icarus
1. RIP, Leonard Nimoy. Comments are open for Spock Prime celebration; I think we all could use some.

2. Leisure reading, I have missed you!! I finished Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo yesterday, which I really liked. Actual book-blogging is a bit out of reach at the moment, but maybe later...

3. In-person interview on Monday! Fingers crossed. :)

And now, back to food prep for tonight's dumpling party.

it's all happening

Feb. 26th, 2015 12:37 pm
bossymarmalade: girl enjoying music (wine and get on bad)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
 Work is horrifying! Okay, now I've gotten that out of the way.

It seems to be impossible to find good strawberries or peaches here anymore. I keep waiting for that magical moment in the summertime (the only thing I look forward to in summer, as I despise the heat and sunshine and hide in our hobbit hole cursing at the light for those months) where strawberries are those sweet fresh little ruby darlings that you can buy in green cartons off the side of the road in Richmond where it's still farmland, or big bursting nectar peaches whose fragrance lures you in from halfway across the produce aisle. Both have been sadly missing in the last few years. All we get are the big cottony tasteless strawberries, the hard dry flavourless peaches. I am so desolate! The last time I had good strawberries it was a tiny carton that I had to elbow hipsters out of the way for at the Farmers' Market and I paid an exorbitant amount for them. 

On the pop culture front, it's interesting now that Lori and I have been living without cable for a few years and just depending on Netflix. It's a constant surprise to see what new movies/shows/products exist in the world. I am sort of enjoying it, the novelty of having things sprung on me. I mean, I know this is the exact age where I start saying "kids these days" and tut-tutting over social media, and I try to resist that urge, but there really are things I miss.

We were watching Almost Famous the other night and the part where the kid is going through his sister's record collection, touching all the covers and opening them and exploring them so reverently, and shit, I remember that. First with records, the paper pages inside that sometimes had lyrics and illustrations, the actual paper sleeve of the record, and then with our Disney records the way they had an illustration from the movie in the actual wax. And then tape cassettes, unfolding out the cardboard insert to see if the lyrics were in there, playing that damn tape until it started unspooling, getting one of those dual-cassette machines so you could cut-record-pause-record and make your mixtapes, and how you'd always have a stock of very short songs to fill up that awkward last few minutes on each side. And even CDs, the process of flipping through them at the store and then bringing them home, peeling off the cellophane, doing the same liner notes ritual as you listen to the disc for the first time all the way through. I miss that. Music for me now is so intangible, it's just something out there up there in the atmosphere. There's no process and no ritual. I'm not saying music shouldn't develop, of course, just that I miss the visceral relationship I used to have with it.

polls polls polls

Feb. 26th, 2015 02:58 pm
marina: (spring)
[personal profile] marina
So I definitely have no time to write any new posts, but I remembered it used to be fun to do polls on Dreamwidth! And I always like knowing what people would like to read the most.

Poll #16487 which post?
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 51


If I only had time to write one of these posts, which should it be?

View Answers

Review of "Dear White People" (2014)
7 (14.0%)

Post on women and leadership basically rambling about all the women-military-commanders I have known IRL
16 (32.0%)

Review of "English Vinglish" (2012)
1 (2.0%)

Post on Russian fail in Jupiter Ascending (& why the Jupiter-is-Jewish fanon needs to die)
21 (42.0%)

A post about Junior League, the Russian teen hockey show everyone should be watching
5 (10.0%)

Мяу?

View Answers

Мур мур!
4 (100.0%)

Why do the fates torture us so

Feb. 25th, 2015 01:17 pm
marina: (amused Godric)
[personal profile] marina
Don't ask me why I keep watching Strange Empire. It really is like some horrible addictive drug - giving me occasional highs but meanwhile doing irreparable damage to my body and soul.

Look, you want to watch a transman laborer and an autistic woman doctor having a love affair in 19th century Canada? This show will give you this. You want to watch two half-Native people navigate the politics of aligning themselves with various governments in the ~wild west~, versus self reliance, identity stuff and also be two extremely hot people having a complicated, interesting love affair? You want those two characters to be played by IRL mixed-race actors? You got it, this show will provide. You want a story about African American women trying to build their lives out of the ashes of slavery? You want to see them fail and succeed, make sacrifices, ultimately control their own fates? Here you go, Strange Empire is here for you.

You want narratives about found families, about accepting people as they are at the edge of the world, about women banding together to survive, about vengeance and science and loss and comfort? This show offers all that and more.

I really can't quite wrap my head around how a show with these characters and storylines could be as terrible as Strange Empire is. It's got to be some kind of record.

I also don't understand how a show with this many women on the writing staff, who produced the above characters and relationships, could produce a show with at least one rape scene per episode. How. How does this happen. It goes against the laws of physics.

In short, I really need someone to watch this show and talk to me about how tragically magnificent it is! Let us all talk about how wonderful the endless shirtless sex scenes Tahmoh Penikette gets are! And how terrible he is at acting otherwise since the script and direction on this show are ridiculous! Let's talk about how spoiler ) and how AMAZING, AMAZING, AMAZING Rebecca is and how spoiler ) and yet how sort of... understandable, if not healthy or recommended Isabelle's relationship with John is? They both had different kinds of fucked up upbringings, and when they met each other they basically saw kindred spirits who wanted to climb out of their shitholes lives and make the world burn together. Let's talk about how I love that Rebecca, whose parents abandoned her in a mental institution at a young age, is the heroine most prone to laughter and careless joy out of all the main characters. Let's talk about how Rebecca spoiler ) Let's talk about Kat saving and adopting two girls and going off to be a rancher, let's talk about spoiler ) And also you know, how spoiler ).

Ugh, please someone be my buddy for this show? Please? *puppy eyes* Don't let me suffer alone ;_;
ironed_orchid: sepia image of woman kissing a bird (underworld (by regyt))
[personal profile] ironed_orchid posting in [community profile] poetry
[Note: Walker wrote this poem in 1991]

I am in mourning
For your face
The one I used to love
To see
Leaping, glowing
Upon the
The stage
The mike
Eager...
Thrusting
In your
Fist.

I am in mourning
For your face
The shining eyes
The happy teeth
The look that said
I am the world
And aren't you
Glad
Not to mention
Deeply
In luck.

I am in mourning
For
The sweet brown innocence
Of your skin
Your perfect nose
The shy smile
That lit you
Like a light.

more )

life stuff update

Feb. 22nd, 2015 11:57 am
marina: (burn shit down)
[personal profile] marina
1. This weekend I watched a production of Die Bajadere, a Kalman operetta, performed by a Hungarian cast, in Hungarian, at the Israeli Opera. I enjoyed it a lot - Kalman's music was wonderful as usual, the performance was top notch, and even though we had the cheapest seats possible the viewing experience was also pretty great because the Israeli Opera has a really great theater.

I was expecting there to be orientalist fail - the story is about an Indian prince (and secretly accomplished composer) who falls in love with a Parisian singer - but I didn't expect the story to be quite so critical of the British involvement in/with India. The operetta opened in 1921 in Vienna and I wonder how mainstream harsh criticism of the British was at that time/place? Certainly it was absent in the mainstream of the English language cultural texts of that time. Here the British are basically shown to be exploitative villains throughout, and there's no condescension of the Indian characters/implication that India needs Britain or has ever benefited from British involvement. It felt remarkably... modern. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with the production and their deliberate effort to tone down the fail but it was still surprising considering this operetta is nearly 100 years old.

2. So, I've had a cold for like a month. Yesterday was the first time when I was able to take a shower (and wash my hair!) and not wake up extra sick the next day. \\\o/// it was super great. I would say that this means I can start going on walks again after work and slowly unfucking my health situation (multiple chronic injuries don't lend themselves well to staying indoors a lot) but pfft you think the universe wants to give me a break? It does not. I have one single pair of comfortable, warm, rain-proof boots that I bought in Germany, and they've started tearing. Until I get them fixed (which will hopefully happen? But not before next week) I can't afford any extra usage that would damage them more, and if I go walking in sneackers I'll get sick again in two seconds.

If you're asking - but Marina, don't you have other winter shoes you could wear? The answer is: I recently lost one pair of light boots because they got torn so badly they were beyond fixing, and I can't find the other pair of boots, which I originally brought with me to travel in Germany. I've looked everywhere, no luck so far.

3. The other day I had such a vivid dream of getting an apartment, oh my god. It was detailed - my roommate, my room, the exact price, the negotiation, the amount of light from the windows, everything. I remember the sense of relief that I finally, finally, have somewhere to live. And then I woke up.

Related to this, it seems the place where I was keeping my stuff in storage is no longer going to be available in a few weeks. If I don't find a place by then I'll... I have no fucking idea.

4. Relatedly? Stuff with grad school has gotten more dire. I have about two weeks to make a final plea for things, which will involve a lot of work but ultimately won't in any way be up to me, or I can kiss my thesis goodbye. And even if it works, ughhh. Just. Everything is a stressful mess.

5. Also apparently my mom got some very, very worrying health news. We'll know more after tonight but... she's been a mess. This weekend over lunch she was crying and talking about when my dad and I would be left on our own. It's just... so much stress to handle.

6. I was so tired this weekend. Let me explain to you how tired work, grad school and apartment hunting while being sick has made me: instead of leaving my parents' at 5pm as I'd planned, I collapsed and slept for like two hours. I, whose body is incapable of napping unless all systems are in a dire state. I woke up with a headache.

7. I want to say that the only way out of this dark tunnel is through, but the truth is IDK what'll be left of me, where I'll be, by the time it's over. I will probably be alive two months from now. The rest of it is kind of up in the air.

8. Let's try to focus on some good things: I had delicious, delicious food this weekend and have more of said food waiting for me at home. I'm going to Amsterdam with friends in April. [personal profile] were_duck might start reading Lymond and/or Captive Prince soon. Temperatures are supposed to drop again later this week but for now, for today, there's sun, and the kind of cold I can live with.
wishfulclicking: how it ends (gen: how it ends)
[personal profile] wishfulclicking posting in [community profile] poetry
They are thin
and rarely marry, living out
their long lives
in spacious rooms, French doors
giving view to formal gardens
where aromatic flowers
grow in profusion.
They play their pianos
in the late afternoon
tilting their heads
at a gracious angle
as if listening
to notes pitched above
the human range.
Age makes them translucent;
each palpitation of their hearts
visible at temple or neck.
When they die, it’s in their sleep,
their spirits shaking gently loose
from a hostess too well bred
to protest.

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oncejadedtwicesnarked: Spivak is looking disgruntled and pissed. (Default)
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