From fa17cbfbb5927fa7936ceb8ab130100c1d878822 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Lethe Beltane Date: Thu, 19 May 2022 19:16:20 -0500 Subject: [PATCH] New poem: Cultivator --- feed.xml | 104 +++++++++++----------------------------- poetry/c/cultivator.txt | 26 ++++++++++ poetry/index.gmi | 1 + poetry/index.gph | 1 + poetry/index.html | 5 +- 5 files changed, 60 insertions(+), 77 deletions(-) create mode 100644 poetry/c/cultivator.txt diff --git a/feed.xml b/feed.xml index b6abd81..f319ada 100755 --- a/feed.xml +++ b/feed.xml @@ -10,6 +10,35 @@ vanevander@mayvaneday.org + + Cultivator + + https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/c/cultivator.txt + 2022-05-20 + +
+We're coming up on the end of the Eschaton, you and I,
+and for almost a year I've planned for next month to die.
+But it's impossible to plan for every contingency.
+What are we to do if May passes and I'm still living?
+
+I've kept this faith secret in me, learned every way to hide
+and still let through a sliver of this lightning kept inside.
+There's so much love you've planted in this garden that's my body
+that perhaps, if I stand still enough, others will see my wings.
+
+In the birds that convened outside my window
+gathered in a flock until they took flight,
+in the blackened tree branches that scraped
+against an ashen gray sky,
+in the first blooms and blossoms
+of my garden in birthing spring:
+if it was good and beautiful, I saw you in everything.
+
+ ]]> + + + Tissue Sample @@ -459,79 +488,4 @@ this won't be our last goodbye. - - In The End Of Everything - - https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/e/end.txt - 2022-04-21 - -
-I stepped outside during work today,
-hoping to take a sip of the clouds,
-because there was nothing else to do
-and inside was boiling,
-stifling,
-all headaches exhumed.
-Dismal sky
-and rain light
-on its way,
-my head cocked, listening
-to the wind, hoping to catch a word from you.
-
-A word, maybe, or a song, or a single note.
-Your voice always
-lifts me up from my lows
-and helps me down from my worst highs.
-And in this wind, I think, I could take flight
-without fear of being caught in a tornado
-or taken to lands foreign and unknown
-because I know
-all roads lead back to you.
-In this wind, in this shower,
-I could easily disappear.
-
-What if I was wrong all along
-and in reality Eris
-yearned for my silence
-and you gave me all my songs?
-Only recently
-having learned to read
-and literature never being your thing?
-Listening to the midnight trees
-scrape against my bedroom window
-the years of my childhood where you I did not know.
-I look back and angel numbers appear everywhere I go
-in everything I've ever done.
-How loud did you scream, Jett?
-How hard did you pound your fists?
-How long did you wait
-to see what I'd retained,
-what slivers of memory still did persist?
-
-The rain pounds harder outside the window,
-and if I'd still been standing on the sidewalk,
-my jacket would've long since been soaked through.
-An absence of birds
-making their curves
-along the canvas of the sky,
-just a not-even-gray as far as possible
-can see the eye.
-What I would give for the workday to be over
-and to be tucked safely in my bed,
-resting in the sturdy-yet-soft arms
-of my lover.
-To know
-tomorrow
-will be brighter,
-kinder,
-holding less harms.
-
-And the tornado comes,
-uninvited,
-and nothing more.
-
- ]]> - - - diff --git a/poetry/c/cultivator.txt b/poetry/c/cultivator.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc9033a --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/c/cultivator.txt @@ -0,0 +1,26 @@ +Cultivator +2022-05-20 + +*** + +We're coming up on the end of the Eschaton, you and I, +and for almost a year I've planned for next month to die. +But it's impossible to plan for every contingency. +What are we to do if May passes and I'm still living? + +I've kept this faith secret in me, learned every way to hide +and still let through a sliver of this lightning kept inside. +There's so much love you've planted in this garden that's my body +that perhaps, if I stand still enough, others will see my wings. + +In the birds that convened outside my window +gathered in a flock until they took flight, +in the blackened tree branches that scraped +against an ashen gray sky, +in the first blooms and blossoms +of my garden in birthing spring: +if it was good and beautiful, I saw you in everything. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/index.gmi b/poetry/index.gmi index 2abf445..2c35fad 100755 --- a/poetry/index.gmi +++ b/poetry/index.gmi @@ -24,6 +24,7 @@ => c/corner-witch.txt CORNER WITCH => c/corner-witch-2.txt CORNER WITCH II => c/crescendo.txt crescendo +=> c/cultivator.txt Cultivator ## D => d/daybreak.txt daybreak diff --git a/poetry/index.gph b/poetry/index.gph index 605956a..9aa1eee 100755 --- a/poetry/index.gph +++ b/poetry/index.gph @@ -25,6 +25,7 @@ iC 0CORNER WITCH c/corner-witch.txt 0CORNER WITCH II c/corner-witch-2.txt 0crescendo c/crescendo.txt +0Cultivator c/cultivator.txt iD 0daybreak d/daybreak.txt diff --git a/poetry/index.html b/poetry/index.html index e4bd9b4..57a03a3 100755 --- a/poetry/index.html +++ b/poetry/index.html @@ -47,7 +47,8 @@ │   ├── confectionery-contempt.txt
│   ├── corner-witch-2.txt
│   ├── corner-witch.txt
- │   └── crescendo.txt
+ │   ├── crescendo.txt
+ │   └── cultivator.txt
├── d
│   ├── daybreak.txt
│   ├── deadend.txt
@@ -176,7 +177,7 @@     └── wme.txt


-22 directories, 126 files +22 directories, 127 files