You make me rethink my whole existence Question my life

I wish this pain would leave And it would all make sense

You’re music is too much One listen and I’ll melt

If I’m drowning Will you save me

A poem about a post that I read yesterday https://discuss.tchncs.de/post/54986573

We wake up in our cells and dress in limitation

To deprive ourselves of action and causation

Can't or won't we see that we rob ourselves of agency?

Why waste our will with can't where we could won't?

So don't say that you can't.

And do say that you won't

And I will know that you will will

And who knows where you may stray

For where there's a will, there's a way

My smelly little buddy You can't stand to be touched without licking back

My sturdy companion You lean on my leg and I know it is love

Whoever passed you up was a fool I knew you were special you knew I meant well

You hurt yourself playing Now I can't stand to see how you can't stand on your own

Tomorrow we'll see the doctor I hope they have good news best friend

🐾

In bitter safety I awake Safe and warm upon my bed Raised on fairy tales of heroes The greatest love that I can show Is dying a slow death of stress To earn a paycheck for my family

.

Somehow the word allow is in the word swallow and in swallow two wholly different meanings: one to take in through the mouth and another what we call the common winged gnat hunter who is, in all probability, somewhere near us now. Once, I thought if I knew all the words I would say the right thing in the right way, instead language becomes more brutish: blink twice for the bird, blink once for tender annihilation. Who knows what we are doing as we go about our days lazily choosing our languages. Some days my life is held together by definitions, some days I read the word swallow and all my feathers show.

Come, O Death, and make me not,  
As the Sun makes not the night.  
Spare not will, nor sense, nor thought;  
Obliterate the knowing light  

That pulls the strings that make it go  
In dismal jerks and frets and struts  
and sits behind to watch the show  
and hates the poppet's fucking guts.  

Hear, O Death, my solemn plea:  
dissolve the strange cruel chemistry  
That is an I that longs to be  
A nothing in eternity.  

There were no survivors.
How could there have been
As the calm sea rose in deafening roar

The servant, the knight, the princess
And her entire
Line

All swept away
As the waves crashed down
On the castles of
Sand

cross-posted from: https://sh.itjust.works/post/54124239

Everywhere and nowhere

Nothing hold me down

For I am a tumbleweed

My home is yours

Tall mountains, wide valleys

Amber waves of grain

Great rivers and great lakes

Concrete jungles, quiet nooks

The mind’s farthest echoes

Folks up and down

And all around, do my branches twist

All my worlds forever spin

For I am a tumbleweed

My home is yours

I have everywhere to go

And nowhere to leave

Hope Is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s a Sewer Rat
by Caitlin Seida

Hope is not the thing with feathers
That comes home to roost
When you need it most.

Hope is an ugly thing
With teeth and claws and
Patchy fur that’s seen some shit.

It’s what thrives in the discards
And survives in the ugliest parts of our world,
Able to find a way to go on
When nothing else can even find a way in.

It’s the gritty, nasty little carrier of such
diseases as
optimism, persistence,
Perseverance and joy,
Transmissible as it drags its tail across
your path
and
bites you in the ass.

Hope is not some delicate, beautiful bird,
Emily.
It’s a lowly little sewer rat
That snorts pesticides like they were
Lines of coke and still
Shows up on time to work the next day
Looking no worse for wear.

So wie die Ordnung stets ins Chaos geht,
wenn keine Kraft dagegen steht,
so herrscht das Chaos nie allein:
Es braucht die Ordnung, um zu sein.

Das Chaos, das sich selbst bezwingt,
indem es langsam Ordnung bringt,
gebiert aus Dunkelheit und Dreck
schön langsam, aber stetig, Form und Zweck,
kurz: Leben, das sich selbst erhält,
und auch im Sturme Kraft behält,
um nach dem Regen neu zu blühn,
so wie auch wir es alle tun.