psalm_onethirtyone: (Disappointed)
My heart has just been broken, so I'm going to post some poetry from my independent study.

First, two old poems revised:

Apeirophilia (previously Xenophilia) )


Song for a Friend (previously Song for an Old Lover) )


One new poem:

One Week )


And one poem that the professor (correctly) told me could not probably ever be a "good" poem, but "has some interesting ideas, and is an unusual experiment in a new form for you".

Closure )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Narwhals Narwhals Swimmin' in the Ocean)

Trans )


Paper Thin Hotel )

**this poem is a tribute to Leonard Cohen, as evidenced by the references to Famous Blue Raincoat, Paper Thin Hotel, and his rather unique singing voice.


Psychophysics )


Apitoxin )


Genesis )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Found Myself!)
Ethnography )
psalm_onethirtyone: (And Didn't it Shine?)
Graphic )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Love)
To-day we were iced in. Everything was covered, the roads were useless, the trees were silver. We made cheese and I read aloud and packed my things and cut up Christmas cards for art.

I also have decided it is time for another issue of Don't You Wish You'd Written That? (Love Poem Edition). So, without further ado, poems you wish you'd written, volume three:

I Don't Know No Love Songs... )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Lovey & Me)
Um. This is posting day, apparently. >_> Poetry this time. (I like writing love poems. Shhh.)

Love as an Ornament )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Dye My Eyes and Call Me Pretty)
A few notes.

We got almost all the moving done to-day! Only I shall have to get a new boxspring, because it turns out mine is rotted through and was only holding up because of the crossboards underneath. Luckily we have a spare, so we won't need to buy another. To-night I sleep on a mattress on the floor; it and my gutted bureau and nightstand are the only pieces of furniture left in my room, except for the treadmill hulking evilly in one corner.

While I was going under my bureau to clean out all the things I'd shoved under there over the years, I threw away over two years' worth of eating disorder material I'd written for myself: everything from food journals to calorie counts for hundreds of different items in hundreds of different restaurants to little notes saying 'you're a fat fucking lazy bitch and if you tried harder you could do this'. There were notebooks full of my exercises, and notebooks that mentioned every time I 'indulged'--sometimes under the heading and date there are entries the entire text of which were 'one half a piece of hard candy' or 'some powdered sugar that was in the air and got in my mouth' or 'two chocolate chips'. And then more notes.

And I threw it all away. All of it.

Happy new year, everybody.

Poem )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Sparkle)
...Yes, I am poetryspamming again. Well, I have just cleaned the entire kitchen in fifty-five minutes, which is my best time ever, and on Saturday I'll be all day on a train, and I need to cancel my appointment with Dr. Flailyhands and launder my blankets, and write a few letters and finish this story (I hate this story), and refill my prescriptions before I go because the last thing Manon needs is an unmedicated Soujin--I'm bad enough when I am medicated. The point is, time is limited and everything is relative, I have a missing fingernail and Good Poems Selected by Garrison Keillor, of all people, and I want to type some up because the book goes back to-morrow.

On the Strength of All Conviction and the Stamina of Love
Jennifer Michael Hecht

Sometimes I think
we could have gone on.
All of us. Trying. For-ever.

But they didn't fill
the desert with pyramids.
They just build some. Some.

They're not still out there,
building them now. Everyone,
everywhere, gets up, and goes home.

Yet we must not
diabolise time. Right?
We must not curse the passage of time.

you'll get more coherence here: )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Our Lesson)
Poetryspam time! Yes, I'm doing it again. Shush. I found good ones at the library. ^_^ World Poetry: An Anthology of Verse from Antiquity to Our Time: selections by Soujin.

Star of Evening
Sappho (translated by Paul Roche)

you bring
home everything
which light of day dispersed:
home the sheep herds
home the goat
home the mother's darling

Because this poem? I want to remember it someday to sing to my children, because I know it would be a perfect lullaby. It just needs a pretty tune, and if I can't think one up I'll make [ profile] erinpuff write one for me. <33

more! shiny old poetry! )


psalm_onethirtyone: (Default)

January 2012

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