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dont know how dumb this one is yet but will probs find out in the coming days and months or whatever it is that comes

 

 

 

The inevitability of the poem

is what hurts. You knew it was coming.

That’s why you waited,

why they didn’t.

 

Poem (definition):

 

Noah’s ark of ghosts which come

one by one. 

After that, it’s just leaves and people again,

worlding and worlding and yeah, gah,

difficult to start the whole

“I care” thing again,

 

I can’t just retire into apples

and who she was always going to end up as:

here, big armed.

 

The cup

holds the tea. But the body

lets the mind go

or at least there is some gentle

hovering: we all call it “aboveness” here

(we have voices)

 

You had to write it and I had to read it.

In this way the pain was divided.

The laughing came forty years later.

Picnic, even. 

 

You understand it all,

with that naive familiarity, as though

you had written it, and I had read it,

and this was me telling you:

“I have read it, it was as though

I had written it…”

 

And then he came back and the word was apples.

 

Typical table, but this strange cushion...

 

The thing about her: that was it, what I must have been

neglecting to remember. That was exactly

how the years went by: quickly, shyly,

foxes in the garden of her body all along, every every.

 

And when I came back - a long time had time passed,

It was different, how the things were you. You couldn’t

put your finger in the same

room as her

 

Dance in this room.

It even has mirrors. I guess the professionals

have been and gone.

They didn’t take the mirrors with them.

I won’t go looking for them.

 

Aren’t I happy here, this way, this here,

all the exactness I can’t help

but keep saying is real?

 

The intersections between our lives:

as rare as they are

as sudden as they are

 

just as they are.

 

We all do what we want and say

we didn’t want to do it

or anything else but the others know

we did because they were the same

 

(that’s one more fox, makes ten,

quite a day I’m having)

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(that’s one more fox, makes ten,

quite a day I’m having)

 

I really like how resigned this conclusion is, also the fact that I can project a structure onto the rest of the poem, try and divide it into ten and figure out how it flows from there--I like pieces in poems that are unobtrusive but serve as keys.

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I gave birth to twins

 

 

 

Outside:

 

Leeway, give me more lee

way, no space

 

Seesaws grind, leverage

to the axe

 

Turbules, cracking, yokes

on the trunk pulling

 

 

Indoors:

 

Charts grids paragraphs

 

Pens and hammers on the

tables abandoned

 

like peaches on the counter

on a sunny afternoon

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Half the mango splayed, laid

at the back of my neck

can't move it feels very wet

 

Burning atrophy, piece

of a mango pulled pulled apart

not cut but pulled apart

 

If there was time and I had seen it

would you have been mine. Hiding out.

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I gave birth to twins

 

 

 

Outside:

 

Leeway, give me more lee

way, no space

 

Seesaws grind, leverage

to the axe

 

Turbules, cracking, yokes

on the trunk pulling

 

 

Indoors:

 

Charts grids paragraphs

 

Pens and hammers on the

tables abandoned

 

like peaches on the counter

on a sunny afternoon

 

like last half most

 

i skimmed last stanza as

 

"like peaches on the corner

of a sunny afternoon"

 

which is also very fun

 

also how the next poem is about mangos

 

like in poetic terms i cant even tell mangos and peaches apart like

 

know what i mean

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i dont think i posted these

 

Historical drama

A life is one hand in the pocket of history.

I come out with a receipt for seven oranges

and nothing else.

I add it to the mess of paper curls,

scattered around the unoccupied chair

like god’s toenail clippings.

 

Untitled

A coin

in the swear bank of silence

clattering on the china.

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Half the mango splayed, laid

at the back of my neck

can't move it feels very wet

 

Burning atrophy, piece

of a mango pulled pulled apart

not cut but pulled apart

 

If there was time and I had seen it

would you have been mine. Hiding out.

 

the role of the mango is the poem is excellent 

 

at the heart of all poems there should be a mango

 

the outside can just be birds and who cares but inside gotta be mango all over 1000000000000% no birds k

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someone translated something by me

 

guess the language motherfukrs

 

Pomaranče v zlate

 

Z nás si ty ten studený blesk, ktorý

zo mňa robí

toto jedno ovocie, ktorého povrch je z bieleho zlata. V

svetle

toho ako ho ochutnávaš, vidím, že sa usmievam tak ako ty

vtedy v teple toho kde si ty kedy

si ty

kde si ty a všetko ostatné je

slovo

v knihe, v knihe na ktorej sedíš.

Tieň teba je v tvare dverí, ktoré sa

otvárajú.

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dont know how dumb this one is yet but will probs find out in the coming days and months or whatever it is that comes

 

 

 

The inevitability of the poem

is what hurts. You knew it was coming.

That’s why you waited,

why they didn’t.

 

Poem (definition):

 

Noah’s ark of ghosts which come

one by one. 

After that, it’s just leaves and people again,

worlding and worlding and yeah, gah,

difficult to start the whole

“I care” thing again,

 

I can’t just retire into apples

and who she was always going to end up as:

here, big armed.

 

The cup

holds the tea. But the body

lets the mind go

or at least there is some gentle

hovering: we all call it “aboveness” here

(we have voices)

 

You had to write it and I had to read it.

In this way the pain was divided.

The laughing came forty years later.

Picnic, even. 

 

You understand it all,

with that naive familiarity, as though

you had written it, and I had read it,

and this was me telling you:

“I have read it, it was as though

I had written it…”

 

And then he came back and the word was apples.

 

Typical table, but this strange cushion...

 

The thing about her: that was it, what I must have been

neglecting to remember. That was exactly

how the years went by: quickly, shyly,

foxes in the garden of her body all along, every every.

 

And when I came back - a long time had time passed,

It was different, how the things were you. You couldn’t

put your finger in the same

room as her

 

Dance in this room.

It even has mirrors. I guess the professionals

have been and gone.

They didn’t take the mirrors with them.

I won’t go looking for them.

 

Aren’t I happy here, this way, this here,

all the exactness I can’t help

but keep saying is real?

 

The intersections between our lives:

as rare as they are

as sudden as they are

 

just as they are.

 

We all do what we want and say

we didn’t want to do it

or anything else but the others know

we did because they were the same

 

(that’s one more fox, makes ten,

quite a day I’m having)

 

The cup verse is very neat. picnic, apples. Light and sweet. Japanimation. Then it becomes harder I think withmirrors, quickly, shyly and foxes and she, intersections between our lives- like a drama with multiple relationships including natalie portman.

 

i didn't post a poem but song lyrics. what embarrasses me is everything not alluding to mango like 'burning atrophy' and the end. If it were a poem but they're jsut song lyrics. 

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someone translated something by me

 

guess the language motherfukrs

 

Pomaranče v zlate

 

Z nás si ty ten studený blesk, ktorý

zo mňa robí

toto jedno ovocie, ktorého povrch je z bieleho zlata. V

svetle

toho ako ho ochutnávaš, vidím, že sa usmievam tak ako ty

vtedy v teple toho kde si ty kedy

si ty

kde si ty a všetko ostatné je

slovo

v knihe, v knihe na ktorej sedíš.

Tieň teba je v tvare dverí, ktoré sa

otvárajú.

czech?

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I don't know anyone who uses a definition of Central Europe. I'm more fmiliar with a north-south-east-west division kinda like this:

 

The United Nations Statistics Division developed a selection of geographical regions and groupings of countries and areas, which are or may be used in compilation of statistics. In this collection, the following ten countries were classified as Eastern Europe:[10][13] Belarus, Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Hungary, Moldova, Poland, Romania, Russia, Slovakia, and Ukraine. The assignment of countries or areas to specific groupings is for statistical convenience and does not imply any assumption regarding political or other affiliation of countries or territories by the United Nations.[14] The United Nations' definition encompasses most of the states which were once under the Soviet Union's realm of influence and were part of the Warsaw Pact.

151

 

Eastern Europe

 

112

 

Belarus

 

100

 

Bulgaria

 

203

 

Czech Republic

 

348

 

Hungary

 

616

 

Poland

 

498 Republic of Moldova

642

 

Romania

 

643

 

Russian Federation

 

703

 

Slovakia

 

804

 

Ukraine

 

 

154

 

Northern Europe

 

248

 

Åland Islands

 

830 Channel Islands

208

 

Denmark

 

233

 

Estonia

 

234

 

Faeroe Islands

 

246

 

Finland

 

831 Guernsey

352

 

Iceland

 

372

 

Ireland

 

833

 

Isle of Man

 

832 Jersey

428

 

Latvia

 

440

 

Lithuania

 

578

 

Norway

 

680

 

Sark

 

744

 

Svalbard and Jan Mayen Islands

 

752

 

Sweden

 

826

 

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

 

 

039

 

Southern Europe

 

008

 

Albania

 

020

 

Andorra

 

070

 

Bosnia and Herzegovina

 

191

 

Croatia

 

292

 

Gibraltar

 

300

 

Greece

 

336

 

Holy See

 

380

 

Italy

 

470

 

Malta

 

499

 

Montenegro

 

620

 

Portugal

 

674

 

San Marino

 

688

 

Serbia

 

705

 

Slovenia

 

724

 

Spain

 

807

 

The former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia

 

 

155

 

Western Europe

 

040

 

Austria

 

056

 

Belgium

 

250

 

France

 

276

 

Germany

 

438

 

Liechtenstein

 

442

 

Luxembourg

 

492

 

Monaco

 

528

 

Netherlands

 

756

 

Switzerland

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yeah this is pretty interesting. it was obviously logical to use "east europe" as a political category relating to the influence of soviet russia - 

 

Another definition was created during the Cold War and used more or less synonymously with the term Eastern Bloc. A similar definition names the formerly communist European states outside the Soviet Union as Eastern Europe.[3] 

 

but i'd say that this definition is more useful in terms of the contemporary situation, just cos the eastern bloc doesn't exist at all, at the "easternness" has flipped into a radical, reactive westernness. 

 

"One definition describes Eastern Europe as a cultural (and econo-cultural) entity: the region lying in Europe with main characteristics consisting in ByzantineOrthodox, and some Turco-Islamic influences.[2][3] " 

 

just because you can pretty much make a geopolitical map which yokes belarus / ukraine / baltic states together, and equally one which yokes czech rep / slovakia / hungary 

 

it gets a bit more confusion when you look at the balkans 

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i guess the confusion is really that some people use these words for political and some people geographic. like latvia obviously doesn't "belong" with scandanavia, culturally or politically, but its pretty close to finland, so it makes sense to call it northern europe, but then politically, it makes sense to call norway and denmark "western europe", so, yeah. south/north are not politically invested by whenver anyone says east or west they're gonna be making a sort of political statement even if they are just drawing colours or a map or summat

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im sort of really proud of this one suddenly

 

I am!

I am the t-shirt of your dreams

who dreams you also, sleeping in itself

in the bed, in the pillow, underneath you!

I am the one word missing

from your dictionary - all the others are there,

car, dog! I am the north wind

trying to scratch the mysterious

itch in the back of its sky, failing,

failing! I am the tent hook in the ground, I am

your bleeding toe, I am your mother bending down,

I am the expensive plaster, I am you as

you thank her and do not mean it!

I am her as she knows you do not mean it!

And yet still, I am the tent hook, the earth

in which the tent hook remains, for the next toe!

I am that toe also, and the night above it,

and the tomorrow which follows the night

down the river of time, which is the length

of my arm! I am the taste of apples, I am the shape of pears,

I am the orange on your shelf, eat me! You are

hungry! I should know! I eat the orange, I put

the orange peel in the bin, I am collected,

I am the van, I am the dump yard, I am

the man’s hand on the lever, I am the movement

of the peel among the other objects, I am!

I am the windsweptness of life, compiled at last

into personhood, and divided equally among

you and the wolves and the flowers, by me,

because of me, inside me! I am the stone

of because thrown into the water of

although you are very pretty I will not!

I drive on the right side of forever,

there are no accidents,

I patrol forever in the shining car of my body,

I keep you from danger with my blue siren,

my ears tell you secrets about your ears,

I am your ears, I am ears, I am mouth, I am!

I am the road sign with the picture of children!

They are crossing so safely, I am! I am kitchens!

I am the apron you have so long forgotten,

remember the apron, put it on,

it suits you, you need it when you cook!

I am the apron of your mind!

I am the park, I am the park, I am the duck! I swim!

I fly! I flap! I am!

 

I am a fish, in the underwater weeds,

I am greenbrown as the weeds,

and no one even looks, because why would they,

there is nothing to see, anywhere.

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