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spring waits for no one



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Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Sun Mar 15, 2020 4:37 am
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TheSilverFox says...



I've been doing this for a little while.

2019 - sometimes I hear the bell ringing

2018 - the man beneath the lamppost

2017 - How to Deal with the Buzzards Poking at Your Eyes

2016 - these are the words that are an offense to sanity
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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299 Reviews



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Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Sun Mar 15, 2020 4:44 am
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TheSilverFox says...



-1: Winter

I watched the fog
creep its way down the mountains,
drift between the trees,
settle over the asphalt,
sink into the night
that covered up everything
but the headlights of cars
roaring down the interstate
far below me

and part of me
kept looking out the window
because I was afraid
that the building,
and everyone in it,
would go tumbling down the hill
(then I checked my phone
and tried to forget
that my semester had ended
almost as soon as it'd started)
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Sun Mar 15, 2020 7:37 pm
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TheSilverFox says...



i^2: The Ides of March

cw: emotional abuse

Spoiler! :
you taught me a lot of things
.
you taught me
that I couldn't walk right,
because I walked like a woman
(whatever that was supposed to mean);
that I couldn't run right,
since my legs flailed around;
that I could stop having a panic attack
if I ignored what was in my face;
that I could grow out of my asthma
if only I ran more;
that I couldn't bowl right
because my posture was never straight;
that I couldn't play pool right
because the stick always slipped between my fingers;
that I couldn't swim right,
because I never got the rhythm right.

you taught me
that I was too loud,
that I was too emotional,
that I needed to bury my feelings
deep inside me,
that I needed to never complain,
never say anything against you,
that crying was for children,
that growing my nails out was girly,
that I needed to be the perfect student,
that I needed to be the perfect writer,
that I needed to be the perfect swimmer,
that I needed to be the perfect pool player,
that I needed to be the perfect archer
that I needed to be the perfect runner
that I needed to be the perfect son
before you would pay attention to me at all
(because god forbid you had to encourage me,
god forbid you had to do anything other
than tell me I was doing something wrong,
whether I was or not.
god forbid you have to listen to me now
when I tell you that I don't need your advice,
that I would like to learn on my own
for a change, find myself
for a change).

you never taught me how to use a knife,
probably because you didn't trust me with it;
what could I cook that would be better
than anything you cook?

what could I do that would be better
than anything you do?
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Thu Mar 19, 2020 7:26 pm
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TheSilverFox says...



1 - 2: the evacuation

every hour of the day I hear the ambulances
howling in the distance, racing up and down the street
outside of my window, darting through the intersections
in front of me, parked outside the dorms
while I adjust my backpack and walk past them
so I can go to class to learn about Huygen's principle
or something or another that I can't remember
by the time I get back home

and it's so empty in the library
when I finally make my way over there
that my brain likes to make up voices and figures
wandering between the concrete columns
and the beige carpet, flitting in between the shadows
as the sun sets dimly through thick windows,
and always watching what I'm doing
or yelling at me that I'm making too much noise

or yelling at me that it's only a day
before I head back north,
before I trade these library shelves and chairs,
buildings and streets and crowds and classes
for a few square feet, a bed, and a couch
to hide behind.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Thu Mar 19, 2020 7:33 pm
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TheSilverFox says...



-(-(-1)): marching in

see the lightning
like a camera flash
through the blinds

catching you
sitting with your laptop,
you thinking
the storm won't come here
right before the rain
begins to pound
against the____window,
the_____hail
begins_______to_______pound
against_______the_______window

the__________storm_____________comes
so_________________________________quickly
and_______the_______storm________leaves
just______as________fast

leaving behind
a layer
of what you almost wished
was snow
on the ground
(because winter
would be warmer
than this,
but it wouldn't
be alive)
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





User avatar
299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Sun Mar 22, 2020 4:57 pm
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TheSilverFox says...



d/dx (-x): Quo vadis?

cw: religious imagery, death

Spoiler! :
i think i know the fire will destroy me,
but i can't stand at the edge of this city
forever, hands clutching books and pens
as the hot asphalt under my feet
destroys my shoes, and the stone walls
close in around me

what is the point letting the carpet
in this room tear up my knees;
what is the point waiting for messages
i'm too afraid to respond to;
what is the point writing stories
that all sound the same

when i know in the city you are waiting
for me to walk with you hand in hand
into the funeral pyre.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





User avatar
299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Fri Mar 27, 2020 5:48 am
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TheSilverFox says...



cos (pi): cult of personality

if only you knew how quickly
they will forget your name

they will tear your pictures
off the walls, let them
fall into the trash.

your legends will fade away,
left to die among huddles
of believers whispering them
by the fire in the back of the alley

your songs will disappear
from the tongues of all
but the old, their voices
wheezing out notes
not for your sake,
but for the sake
of the childhood
that you gave them,
that you took from them

your statues will crumble
to dust, blow away
in the wind
(assuming
they aren't torn down
by people paid just enough
to care that you exist
for the second your face
hurtles to the ground)

your walls will fall,
your wealth will fall
into the hands of the poor,
your barbed wire will rust,
they will read your story
between the lines,
they will bury your guns,
they will fly another flag

you will not save anyone else

life will forget you,
and then death will forget you
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  








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