Bossy r poem

i lik the bred

2017.03.23 18:51 Hasnep i lik the bred

Poems based on this one about a cow licking bread by Poem_for_your_sprog: my name is Cow, and wen its nite, or wen the moon is shiyning brite, and all the men haf gon to bed - i stay up late. i lik the bred.
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2008.03.15 19:41 Poetry - spoken word, literature code, less is more

A place for sharing published poetry. For sharing orignal content, please visit OCPoetry
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2014.03.26 04:52 freedreamer Poetry Critics: for constructive criticism of your poetry

This is a subreddit for constructive criticism and feedback on all types of poetry. Our primary goal with this sub is to ensure that every poem that is submitted gets a good amount of quality feedback. Please sort by 'new' to see posts that have little or no feedback.
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2024.05.19 08:41 Silent_Radio5410 I cut ties with my ex best friend.

A few years ago during that time when I was in high school, me and my ex friend went to different schools, I wanted to go to the same school as her but I couldn't since it was too far.
I told her that I couldn't go to the same school but she told me she was glad I didn't go to the same place as her because if I did, me and her wouldn't be friends at all.
You know the reason why she said that? She said if I went there, other people would take me away from her and that she would hate me which I found that stupid. Fast forward a few years later I had a boyfriend during college (he's now an ex) When I went out to town with my family, she called to me crying (while I was in a resturant) because apparently I've been ghosting her and ignoring her saying I've been too busy to even talk.
During this time I was struggling with my mental health, my relationship and college, She would start arguments with me saying I don't have time for her, not texting back saying I'm drifting away from her. Not to mention she wrote a poem about me(I have the poem on my phone) , I didn't know what to say and she asked you're not mad I wrote a poem about you? You won't sue me right?
And I was like it's fine but in my head it wasn't fine. She would make it about herself, I listened to her constantly complaining and she would trauma dump the past. She brought up the fact I didn't turn up to choir practice while I was getting bullied.
She blamed me for that not the girl who bullied me, not to mention she and the bully were friends on Facebook, the girl who bullied me would talk trash about me to her and she would tell me the horrible things the bully said about me, I was so hurt and betrayed yet I still kept her as a friend.
2 years go by and this was before Covid hit, the day she arrived I took her to my dance practice so she could watch before my day. She complained saying that she's tired, didn't take her meds, telling me she wasted her money to come visit me. I was embarrassed when she was having a tantrum infront of everyone that I had to take her somewhere else.
It felt like a burning iron everytime she complained I was flustered and I felt tired just by listening to her. On the evening the day before my birthday party, there was no food at the house since my mother was busy preparing for my debut. She hasnt eaten food or taken her meds but blamed me again, so we both had to walk to mcdonalds in the evening around 8pm just for her to eat.
The day of my birthday party, everything was going well, I introduced her to my college friends and others but after the party we went back to our rooms getting ready for bed, she asked me why didn't you introduce me to those boys? Why didn't you spend time with me? I didn't know what to say anymore because I was tired genuinely that we didn't talk until morning.
Then after a few days I haven't heard from her, She was talking to one of my guy friends but the thing is she would only talk to me if she had problems with him and would come crying in call and texting me about it. I have been reassuring her every time she had problems with my guy friend and it was tiring, he even mentioned to me she was controlling and bossy and he was right .
I never complained about anything between me and her but she wanted to make problems that I didn't talk to her or wasn't talking to her enough, I gave her space and I gave myself space but she still complained why I didn't message her but I did several times but in other days I wouldn't talk to her because I was scared.
I never talked about my mental problems and my trauma with my SA past to her because she'll make me feel worse and trauma dump and mention the past about me leaving her repeatedly when I was bullied by the same girl she was friends with.
I wanted to cut ties with her but I was afraid that she will get mad at me because she had issues with her behaviour for always getting angry and shouting at me when we get into an argument in call and would blame me.
But I was genuinely afraid at the same time losing my only friend because I had no one else to talk to. After a month or two I was messaging her and she brought up the vaccine topic, during that time she was a student nurse and I didn't really want to talk about it but she insisted telling me I should take the vaccine. If I didn't take it apparently I would affect her "family, friends and patients" but what about me? What am I to her? Me and her live in different cities 1 hr away from each other, so how can I affect them if I live so far away? That doesn't make sense.
She told me If I didn't take it she told me people would think I'm a dirty pest and a scumbag.
I was so done, honestly so done after she posted our private conversation on her private story but apparently she deleted it afterwards just for me to see? Not sure if I believe that. I blocked her on every social media and after that I felt better, the heavy burden I held for so long was gone. I was happier without her.
I never even got birthday gifts from her even when I gave hers every year so I stopped gifting her. I wasted 9 years of friendship and stopped trusting people after that.
submitted by Silent_Radio5410 to ExBestFriends [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 07:50 Apprehensive-Fuel560 worst L&R poem?

in ur opinion what’s the worst love and relationships poem
submitted by Apprehensive-Fuel560 to GCSE [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 06:51 GrownUpGirlScout Nancy Cunard, Parallax, and (Taylor's Version of) Modernism

Nancy Cunard, Parallax, and (Taylor's Version of) Modernism

I did not entirely intend to end up this deep down a rabbit hole, but here we are!

The other night after reading the wonderful The Eras Tour Follies post-GO READ THAT POST, everything in there relates to ALL of this as Loie Fuller was a modernist choreographer and so her art relates strongly to everything I will be discussing. Pretty much everything I present here emphasizes the idea that Taylor is leaning into a very specific type of performance art. Anyway, after reading that, facebook suggested to me a post from a page with follies in the name and between that and the line “my swift imagination”, my attention was captured. From the post-
“‘You shall not prison, shall not grammarise / my swift imagination.’ So declares a poem Nancy Cunard wrote in 1919, at the age of twenty-three. The speaker of “In Answer to a Reproof” casts herself as “the perfect stranger / outcast and outlaw from the rules of life”. Conveying something of Cunard’s defiance of social norms, the poem seems to prophesy her later cutting of ties to both her mother and her country. For Jane Marcus, it constitutes “the declaration of independence of female modernism”.Cunard began her writing career as a poet, and her long poem Parallax was published by Virginia Woolf’s Hogarth Press in 1925.
Jane Marcus wrote a book called Nancy Cunard: Perfect Strangers which was released in 2020 (post-humuously, the book was finished by her research assistant.) It seems like it was a small university press type deal and not widely available in print, though it seems sites like jstor may have it available in its entirity. The book summary-
“Nancy Cunard: Perfect Stranger reshapes our understanding of a woman whose role in key historical, political, and cultural moments of the 20th century was either dismissed and attacked, or undervalued. Here, Jane Marcus, who was one of the most insightful critics of modernism and a pioneering feminist scholar, is unafraid and unapologetic in addressing and contesting Nancy Cunard’s reputation and reception as a spoiled heiress and “sexually dangerous New Woman.” Instead, with her characteristic provocative and energetic writing style, Marcus insists we reconsider issues of gender, race, and class in relation to the accusations, stereotypes, and scandal, which have dominated, and continue to dominate, our perception of Cunard in the public record. In the wake of inadequate histories of radical writing and activism, Nancy Cunard: Perfect Stranger brings its subject into the 21st century, offering a bold and innovative portrait of a woman we all thought we knew.”
I was mostly going to get into her poem Parallax, but after having looked up the entirety of “In Answer to a Reproof”, I HAVE to bring that up as well. Her work isn’t super widely available online, but I did find this weird little poorly formatted archival site that seems to have the full text of her collected poetry . I haven’t read it all (yet), but to start with I’d direct you towards the poems “Outlaws”, “Monkery” and “The Love Story”, but when I read the opening lines to “In Answer to a Reproof” my jaw DROPPED.
“Let my impatience guide you now, I feel
You have not known that glorious discontent
That leads me on : the wandering after dreams
And the long chasing in the labyrinth
Of fancy, and the reckless flight of moods —
You shall not prison, shall not grammarise
My swift imagination, nor tie down
My laughing words, my serious words, old thoughts
I may have led you on with, baffling you
Into a pompous state of great confusion.”
“The long chasing in the labyrinth” “shall not grammarise my swift imagination” (grammarise or gramarize can mean to analyze or describe), are both lines and ideas resonate a lot with what we know about Taylor and her work. The poem is saying, "you will not hold me to these interpretations you have of me, even if I was the one using my words to lead you on and confuse you.”
“...I have concluded we are justified
Each in his scheming ; is this not a world
Proportioned large enough for enemies
Of our calibre ? Shall we always meet
In endless conflict ? I have realised
That I shall burn in my own hell alone
And solitarily escape from death”
The burning imagery, the implications of a deep emotional rift between enemies who might be lovers? This poem, and honestly a lot of her others, have that sort of vibe. This part is justifying the need of enemies in the world and bringing attention to the role of destiny in the fate of two such adversaries. The poem text is available the collected poems I linked above, there is also this handwritten original from Yale’s archives on Nancy Cunard (had to go to the original to figure out what word she was using for solitarily because the formatting was so wonky on the other, lol)
Let’s move on to Parallax! As mentioned above, the poem was originally published by Virgina Woolf’s literary press. It is a long form poem based on the The Waste Land, also a long form poem by T. S. Eliot. This is from the wiki page on The Waste Land-
“widely regarded as one of the most important English-language poems of the 20th century and a central work of modernist poetry…The Waste Land does not follow a single narrative or feature a consistent style or structure. The poem shifts between voices of satire and prophecy, and features abrupt and unannounced changes of narrator, location and time, conjuring a vast and dissonant range of cultures and literatures.”
These ideas are all VERY important in modernism. And modernism is VERY relevant to the idea of what Taylor does, but ESPECIALLY what she is currently doing with TTPD.
Modernism was about rejecting the old ideas of things, and trying to rebuild, especially in the aftermath of WW1. Artists,writers, and musicians strongly embraced the idea of the visibility of the artist in their work. They no longer felt compelled to uphold the status quo and traditional methods (of poetry, of painting, of music, of literature, of architecture), they experimented with forms and processes that would be visible to the viewer in ways that had not been common or fashionable in the art world in the past.
Stream of consciousness writing, unreliable narrators, and multiple points of views were new things being explored, especially in writing (A Room of One’s Own by Virgina Woolf being a great and relevant example of this, also go check out the first edition cover-Midnights much…). The artists wanted to invite deeper thought about what was being said and by whom.The way modernism referenced the past was also very relevant. Modernism was known for creating entirely new interpretations of traditional works. Rewriting traditional narratives, creating parodies, satire, incorporating aspects from many other sources and being referential to those sources (the idea of artistic collages, and incorporating old media into new works was being heavily explored).
The definition of Parallax is “the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points not on a straight line with the object”especially : the angular difference in direction of a celestial body as measured from two points on the earth's orbit.”
Okay so I honestly have a hard time wrapping my head around this, but…put your finger in front of your eyes, look beyond your finger, and then alternate closing one eye at a time. The way your finger appears to jump? That is an example of parallax. The closer an object is, the more drastically it appears to move when observed from different places. The further the object, the less it moves. (I find it interesting that Taylor’s shows have been speeding up and going faster? Almost like as she gets closer to…whatever she’s heading towards, the faster, the more drastic the change?)
These are typical visual representations of parallax
https://preview.redd.it/qk5mz85a8b1d1.png?width=1141&format=png&auto=webp&s=22232367790ba25ca7bbab72a39fdffe9e96d703
https://preview.redd.it/ry2565v38b1d1.png?width=733&format=png&auto=webp&s=4c820f59ffcf5307910723217a64dd3e54b986a6
Which majorly reminds me of this.
https://preview.redd.it/jzdd6h4e8b1d1.png?width=1892&format=png&auto=webp&s=613b0265f22a95ddbde729ea23907dabd395f3f3
And I know that there’s only so much one can do with lights on a stage, but I find the visual parallels and the different perspectives during the TTPD set interesting.
https://preview.redd.it/hdepna4h8b1d1.png?width=2134&format=png&auto=webp&s=9fcd00f1e7bd6f72918634100b8cf32bd4e7a9a2
https://preview.redd.it/kmedb1di8b1d1.png?width=1793&format=png&auto=webp&s=a03fe6fbb2e238d15c4858f3f797a7602a9d94de
https://preview.redd.it/7zm1varj8b1d1.png?width=2091&format=png&auto=webp&s=1d3797ec39235a046429f5164e7d995af4fe53e5
And from the lyric video of “I Can Do it With a Broken Heart”
https://preview.redd.it/98d87po19b1d1.png?width=1886&format=png&auto=webp&s=43d6f598c1493d88f2a3cf94f30dbb25a15cff21
https://preview.redd.it/ex2ew8349b1d1.png?width=1888&format=png&auto=webp&s=7069f52988b92e60edd03f76ff8ffe812c1ff7c7
Let’s get back to the poem!
Here is Parallax by Nancy Cunard
Scan from google books of the original printing of the book.
A website with an easy to read full text version.
It's long, but it's WELL worth reading. Very very rich imagery and themes which seems to go along with Taylor's use of similar themes and images
“Provisioning of various appetite.
Midnights have heard the wine’s philosophy
Spill from glass he holds, defiant tomorrows
Pushed back.”
\*
“Think now how friends grow old—
Their diverse brains, hearts, faces, modify;
Each candle wasting at both ends, the sly
Disguise of its treacherous flame . . .
Am I the same?”
\*
"Without prompter for the love-scene or the anger-scene.
And . . . You and I,
Propelled, controlled by need only,
Forced by dark appetites;
Lovers, friends, rivals for a time,
thinking to choose,
And having chosen, losing."
Again, long but well worth reading.
For a couple years, Nancy had a relationship with a man named Lois Aragon. I found this research paper about Aragon’s personal interest in fairy tales and in the author Lewis Carol. Cunard was instrumental in assisting Aragon to create a printed French translation of the Lewis Carol nonsense poem The Hunting of the Snark. The paper includes this bit, (part of?) a poem Aragon wrote for Cunard during their first trip together-to London. It is a love poem which uses ideas and imagery from Alice in Wonderland (the pdf of this pastes to nonsense so, screenshot.)
https://preview.redd.it/s2fc5indab1d1.png?width=944&format=png&auto=webp&s=bb1970d7e6a9ae102351ade13bff00e321c9f2b5
So as interesting as I found all of these connections, I did at many points wonder if I was in fact thinking about all of this way too much.
BUT THEN.
BUT THEN.
I decide, I’m just…gonna google Nancy Cunard and Taylor Swift. See if anything, at all, comes up.
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-11956353/Taylor-Swift-films-new-bank-robbery-themed-music-video-Cunard-Building-Liverpool.html
The Cunard Building. She filmed the video for I Can See You. In. The. Cunard. Building. The Cunard Building, which was built for the Cunard Steamship Company. Nancy Cunard’s family.
So now I officially feel like I’ve lost my mind, but I am even more interested in…where this is going and what is the POINT of it all? All of this suggests to me that TTPD has been HIGHLY HIGHLY staged and planned and executed in ways which seem to encompass all of the ideas of modernism, while making reference to modernists and their work (Louie Fuller, Virginia Woolf). She is using herself and her life, as well as them and their works, as the references for the writing. Leaning into the unreliability of her narration, the parody, and the multiple points of views from switching narrators.
And that concludes my post on...introducing Nancy Cunard as a highly probable (in my opinion anyway) inspiration for Taylor's work and life, as well as giving even more context and understanding to what we already knew-she's performing. But trying to be sophisticated about it? And trying to point at a lot of references in order to make us think about the deeper meaning.
I'm EXHAUSTED. And so happy I've finished this. Thank you thank you to this sub for the assistance, moral support, brilliant information, and incredible connections that make us all more knowledgable and better critical thinkers. <3 <3 <3
submitted by GrownUpGirlScout to GaylorSwift [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 06:01 HorrorIsLiterature Weekly "What Are You Reading Thread?"

Welcome to HorrorLit's weekly "What Are You Reading?" thread.

So... what are you reading?

Community rules apply as always. No abuse. No spam. Keep self-promotion to the monthly thread.

Do you have a work of horror lit being published this year?
in 2024 HorrorLit will be trying a new upcoming release master list and it will be open to community members as well as professional publishers. Everything from novels, short stories, poems, and collections will be welcome. To be featured please message me (u/HorrorIsLiterature) privately with the publishing date, author name, title, publisher, and format.
The release list can be found here.
submitted by HorrorIsLiterature to horrorlit [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 04:19 HighTechVsLowLife How I Wish To Pet A Mister!

I am reasonably high right now and my fiance's best friend has this adorable cat named Mister. Mister and I bonded, purrs and meows were had, and this majestic boy inspired me to write this silly little poem. So here goes!
How I wish to pet a mister!
Not his brother or his sister,
I just want to pet a mister
I'd drive my car right through a twister,
So I could pet a mister
I'd walk 10 miles with a blister
So i could pet a mister
I respect engineers that build transistors
I just want to pet a mister
From screaming to speaking in but a whisper
How I wish to pet a mister
Love and light ❤️
Feedback 1: https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/QO0EUjWZSl
Feedback 2: https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/st2mHAi2JR
submitted by HighTechVsLowLife to OCPoetry [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 02:39 powerhungry4u Cafe

Conversational Uglies in Cafe
Hi guys. I’m aware this poem requires a bit of (medical) context so you can scroll to the end for it or you can just experience it blind. ( 1 2 )
\\
My body is whimpering these begs to stay alive.
But I withhold the medicine in a a literal gut wrenching tease (side effects include: severe abdominal pain).
There’s no cure for this disease and several names for this cruelty.
I’ll shuffle through them like a deck of cards. Make your bets now. How many hospital visits this year? Just one if I do this right…
When the lights go off and nobody’s home,
the report will say the house was last observed hollow,
because my body was eating itself to stay alive and all these ugly musings died with me.
What can I say? My liver’s a champion.
I’m lucky. That’s what the doctor said.
Ha.
On my deathbed, the boisterous cadences of my hunger will have followed me.
Echoing from the flimsy walls of this wicked anatomy.
(A moment of silence to let the teenage-edginess pass, please. The flesh must mock itself to save itself).
What was it for? I.E this self-inflicted torture.
A body in pain is easier to inhabit, that’s how it’s always been for me.
Even the anxieties are worth the way my collarbones jut in this sexy way.
“Too much, too much, Body. Rein it in. Tone it down.”
There’s a strategy to this, you see. The best killers are only briefly suspect.
My skin is yellow. My skin is dry. I’ll go blind one day. Not today. Two warring concepts. Who I Am and Who I Thought I Was.
(“You’re lucky.”)
Oh, how the dress clings…
Insert cartoonish sound effects of medicine being injected.
The swelling is instant. Of my body, and of the orchestra as my life is finally fed. (THE DRESS CLINGS! IT MUSTN’T! IT MUSTN’T!).
My bloodstream’s biased. Can’t listen to it. My brain chemistry is feeling conflicted about the whole ordeal but it’ll come around.
Self-love is important and I’m afraid the insulin metabolizes it, too.
I won’t let myself swallow my reality.
But this tiramisu serves my goals perfectly, friend (It comes in biscuit-cream-coffee-chocolate-devastation layers).
I’m supermodel-level agonized, baby. That’s the suffering we all strive for.
I make an idol of the grief.
The months keep track of themselves loudly. (Doctor in ICU: you’re just waiting for an accident to happen. (Girl has no response)).
Anyhow, a corpse can’t feel regret so I’m not too worried.
Just pretend you understand my humor (like how I pretend I don’t understand this sacrifice).
This one’s on me if you promise never to ask how I am.
///
Context: Diabulimia is a complicated eating disorder where a diabetic will purposely withhold insulin to lose weight (as insulin is a hormone that helps sugar enter cells for energy and therefore cause weight gain). As insulin is withheld, the liver begins to breakdown fat and basically melt it into the bloodstream for energy. Weight is lost but the blood’s acidity rises as a consequence leading to DKA, fatal if not treated. If you or someone you know is exhibiting side effects of DKA or diabulimia, allow me to be cliche and advise you to seek help.
submitted by powerhungry4u to OCPoetry [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 22:59 Ashamed_Bumblebee486 Kin-Killer's Canticle; or, Herein the Marks of Cain on the Eve of his Dying

No one yet knew how long we lived, but still did they prepare me for a life-long journey. Cheeses and fruits fresh-picked did Our Mother gather to sustain me, and Our Father stowed in woven sacks grain to keep my strength, heaving and strapping barley on our beast's broad back. I looked outwards at the sun setting in its westerly nape, weak in th'numbness of heavy sentence new-laid, when a force struck at my thighs and grasped around my waist. My stomach was in th'dirt, my mouth fined with dust. Above me I saw looming our first father, rock in ready hand, pinning me to th'ground as he raised up his arm to Heaven in twisted invocation, something sick and wicked crinkling in his eyes. Waiting for tight- held stone to shatter my brow, the seconds stretched as centuries, but death stood still. Looking up, the stone and arm that held it sat limp on Adam’s knee as he rose with heavy breath. He reached down his hand, as though to help me rise up to my feet. I held doubts.
"I won't kill you, boy,"
he softly said. after a moment, I took his hand and he then hoisted me upwards. As he spoke he started dusting blotches of earth from my robe.
"No, I won't kill you. It's not a father's place to inherit from the son. I'll let you wander. Let the world do its bloody office. Pity your brother, that he bleeds the fields. Pity your mother, that she mourns two sons,"
his gaze finally meeting mine,
"the better one and you. Don't pity me. As man you bear my shape and name, but you're no son of mine."
His piece then said, he went toward where worm-food Abel lay interred. Ever watchful was Eve. A look half-mad lingered about her eyes as she stood in grief-mute stupor. Maybe by Abel's blood was she made deaf. No matter. I grabbed the halter, starting on my lonesome, weary way. Cresting the hill that would forever stand as sentry between me and home, I couldn't help but look back. There were th'fields from youth I'd tilled. I saw the altar where we made offerings to th'Potter, th'olive tree I had watered with brother's blood. In the midst of it all I saw Our Mother, still where I left her, looking at me. I waved meekly, my arm meeting my side almost as soon as I raised it. She was unmoved. With wavering breath, I turned toward my portion. East had He bid me. East would I then go.

I had an idea a few weeks ago for a poem about Cain after he kills Abel, so that's what this is. I'm a four books into what I think is going to be a five book piece. Just wanted to gauge folk's interest, and would definitely appreciate any constructive criticism. Thanks in advance for reading this monstrosity.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/1cv3ihc/comment/l4n8uh8/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/1cupdbh/comment/l4neah7/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
submitted by Ashamed_Bumblebee486 to OCPoetry [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:59 Cyber-Gon "What survives of us is love" - accidental misinterpretation or intentionally sinister?

So, the final line of Boom (which I thought was a brilliant episode) is a quote from Philip Larkin in his poem "An Arundel Tomb." This poem is about this tomb, and ostensibly describes the "love" on display, with the final line being "what survives of us is love." Sweet sentiment right? And I feel as though this is what Moffat took at face value - but the actual poem seems to be more sinister than that.
The full final stanza reads as follows:
"Time has transfigured them into
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love."
Basically, they don't actually love each other very much (as was typical for forced marriages) but the human instinct to attribute everything to love and oversell the importance and power of love has "transfigured them into untruth," as this is all that remains. We have no real frame of reference for who these people were, but this fake display is all that remains of them.
Personally, I think that this line being used could easily have been Moffat just hearing it out of context and finding it poignant, but this is gallifrey so I am eager to hear any ideas on how this is actually a grand idea and is intentionally foreboding. That's not sarcasm, I genuinely want to hear any wild theories!
submitted by Cyber-Gon to gallifrey [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 20:36 AdamLuyan 1 Children Marriage Contract

1 Children Marriage Contract
🔗 Catalog of Layan’s Memoirs:1 Children Marriage Contract;2 Revelation;3 Flesh Eye Through;4 Youngster;5 Liaoning Branch;6 SYHP Housekeeping Bureau;7 Northeastern University;8 Death with Eyes Open;9 Middle Age;10 Fate Through;11 Tree of Life;12 Meditation;13 Bitter Crux;14 Aggregate Crux;15 Salvation Crux;16 Path Crux;17 Translation of Heart Sutra and Diamond Sutra;18 The Sun Stone
https://preview.redd.it/171o30iza81d1.jpg?width=1528&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=74e176c3f536873d3723fa4734b9da88ca4473f2
My name is Luyan, I was born in April 1970, in the village of Qingtaipao, Jinzhou City, China. My father was an electrical technician in a nearby brick factory. Mom was a farmer.
One day in September 1971, A guest came to our home, whom my father called Old Brother Liu from Shenyang (1). Dad said to mom: “Troupe Leader Liu knows physiognomy, and I want him to have a look our Luyan." Mom was impatient. Dad added: "Troupe Leader Liu is not a stranger, you should be more enthusiastic! he said, ‘He should not have Luyan seen him, otherwise it won't work'.” Mom and Dad went out of the bedroom. The three of them were whispering in the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu asked about my birth date.
Note 1, at this time, he was the deputy chief of the Northeast Military Region's Cultural Troupe, about 40 years old, a division officer. He is commonly referred to in this book as Troupe Leader Liu. Before and after this story, I couldn't hear his voice. He spoke in ancient Han; I heard what they were doing from my father's explanation to my mother.
(2)
Troupe Leader Liu said he wanted to see me and wrinkled the curtain between the kitchen and the bedroom. I didn't see him. Dad explained to mom what he said, "That wantonness he's sitting on, the high beam nose to forehead, is a monk's fate, no marriage life."
"What does that mean, no marriage? He can't get married for the rest of his life?" Mom asked.
After dad inquired with Troupe Leader Liu, explained to mom: "It is possible to get married, but the marriage is not happy or long-lasting."
Mom got upset after hearing that and came inside. My dad and Troupe Leader Liu were talking outside. After a while, Dad came into the bedroom and said to mom, "Why did you just leave!"
Mom replied: "He's godly! Who believes that nowadays."
Dad said: "People can see that, and you're not happy to hear it! He also told me that he was just speaking straight from his heart according to what the ancient books say, just directly speaking what he deemed truth. You shouldn’t be like that! If you don't believe, it's okay to just listen! You come out and talk together!"
Mom followed Dad out, asking as she walked: "What is it again?"
In the kitchen, Dad said to Mom: "Troupe Leader Liu said that his eldest daughter, Jianjun Liu (Eve Liu), is a sky fate (Goddess fate), gifted and smart, but also has a destined bad marriage life. He wants to betroth her to our Luyan; says the two are quite compatible. By tying them together as a pair (2), both of their bad marriage destinies will be broken."
https://preview.redd.it/lgyvzyx2b81d1.jpg?width=563&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9bcc9878878ae915ae7f74f256942d2a2eeacd94
Note 2, Illustrations 1-2 are Ometeotl, the god of world creation, from Chapter 18 “The Sun Stone” of this book; they are Tlaloc, the Mexican god of rain, and Chalchiuhtlicue, the mother of all living beings. The red thread around their ankles indicates that they are bound as husband and wife by Huitzilopochtli, the father of Mexico. How is the Huitzilopochtli tied? This is a big project that takes three generations to spend 100 years on; the blindfolding below is the first step in transferring it to the third generation.
Mom replied: "Look at his appearance! What can his daughter look like!"
Dad said: "That's just saying, his family is well off. Besides, his appearance is not good, his wife might be pretty!"
Mom said: "His family is doing well now. In this society, twenty years later, who knows what will happen!"
Dad said: "It's not good to refuse someone's offer. Besides, this is just a saying, in the future, the two children will become a couple or not, is the matter of the two of them. Now, we are trying to break Luyan’s bad marriage fate!"
3 Blindfolding
A little later, Dad and Troupe Leader Liu returned to the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu said, "If I'm right, the boy will cry as soon as he sees me; however, he can only see me this one time."
Mom was in the back, and when she heard that, said, "There's that! Let's try it then! It won't hurt to see him once anyway."
They arranged the subsequent experiment in a whisper. Troupe Leader Liu added, “Then I'll blindfold him.”
Dad and mom both said they didn't understand.
Troupe Leader Liu said, “Oops! I just remembered that I can't let him see me again in the future!” After thinking for a while, he added, “It's okay! I'll arrange for someone to uncover the blindfold later.”
Mom said unhappily, "Why it doesn't matter!"
Dad smiled and said, "We don't understand, but if Troupe Leader Liu said it doesn't matter, then it doesn't matter!"
At that time, I was sitting on the bed in the bedroom; a man came in and walked straight into the inner room. Soon I forgot about it. Suddenly, he came out and walked directly toward me face to face, his face bloodless and expressionless. My mind exploded at the sight, before I could react. He floated back to the center of the house floor, and quickly turned toward the kitchen and out. Frightened, I crawled desperately toward the southeast of the bed, howling!
https://preview.redd.it/tsabhoa7b81d1.jpg?width=2024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=78b1d79a17027b739b27df7bf429fc45773ed0dc
Note 3, this paragraph describes the first step of the “Flesh Eye Through”: He approached me quickly, and as I watched, I felt as if the camera lens were focusing quickly, and my head felt as if it were going to explode. The shock caused me to fall in “children neurodevelopmental disorder”. One symptom of this disorder is visual impairment, which the ancients said blindfolded the eyes. The process of Revelation is in section 2.8; chapter 3 discussed more about the process of making “Flesh Eye Through”. Illustrations 1-3, left, are of ancient Mexican origin and represent the third step of the Flesh Eye Through practice, which Huitzilopochtli is lecturing to his godson. Figure 2 shows Tlaloc, whose eyes, in author my own opinion, are the ancient Mexican description of "non-dazzle" feature of the eyes. Figure 3 is a bronze mask unearthed at Sanxingdui in China, in author my own opinion, that is a description of the eyes of the “Flesh Eye Through” as “touching eyes”, i.e., the person who sees it may have the feeling of "being touched”, "being electrocuted".

In the kitchen, mom was surprised and said: "Oops! Really crying! What to do!"
Dad said, "We agreed, you go in and comfort him!"
Mom ran into the house and shouted, "What's wrong? What's wrong?"
I crawled to the edge of the bed and hugged mom, crying. Dad also came in.
Mom said angrily, "He was scared! We were both away and suddenly he saw a stranger. Look! Oh! My God! His hairs are standing on end! He scared the kid!"
Dad said, "Troupe Leader Liu asked you to ask."
Mom asked, "What? Ah! What's wrong? Tell mom, what's going on?"
I just, “Woo, woo!” gesticulated and couldn't speak.
Mom muttered angrily, "Just scared! This can't even speak anymore!” Mom stroked my head, and continually said, “All right! Ok! Tell mom, what did you see?”
I replied, "Man! Woo! Woo!”, gesturing with my hands.
Mom said to me, "Ah! A man came in and then went out again. It's okay, your dad and I know about it!"
4 Marriage Contract is sealed.
Dad went to the kitchen, came back a while later, and said to mom, "Troupe Leader Liu went out and asked us to discuss the two children's affairs."
https://preview.redd.it/wuwnwhgcb81d1.jpg?width=500&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ddbea008ef1df6a0346185fd99a5fbe53c3944e6
Mom said, "Like you said, it's not a big deal. How much does he want?"
Dad said, “He didn't say anything about money! It isn’t about money, is it?”
Mom said, "It's better to ask."
The three of them were talking in the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu said, "Then the marriage is settled! There's no need for any money. This matter also concerns my girl! It's also my business, so I'll make the law (do the magic)."
Dad asked, "What should we do then?"
Troupe Leader Liu said, "I'll tell you later. While you were discussing this matter, I did something outside. Now, half of their Fates have been broken. The rest of the “Making Laws” (western similar words: to do magic) will be done outside somewhere in the future, might not in your house."
Dad said, "It's great that little Luyan will be able to get married in the future! Good Job! It’s all thanks to big brother's hard work!”
5 Vision Test
Some days later, my dad had just returned from work and was talking to my mom. The bedroom opening in my house is about 6.5 meters by 3.3 meters; however, I was surrounded by white fog and couldn't see them. Mom said: "Eve Liu gives gift to Luyan! Quickly let him have a look!”.
https://preview.redd.it/aodg8wkhb81d1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=aac570f83a965f228996f2e742ef480f8924e0c0
When I crawled very close to my dad, saw the two toys he brought back: a yellow plastic gyro and a red ornate stick with spots of various colors. As I recall now, at that time, I could see a place 0.5m away and 0.9m in diameter, surrounded by white fog (note 5, this is a symptom of children neurodevelopmental disorder). I could only see half the width of my dad's body, not my mom. It is now estimated that I can't be more than 1.4m away from mom.
Mom said to Dad, "Looks like the kid has an eye problem! Getting down that close to see!"
6 Eve Liu
Another day, I was sitting on the bed in our bedroom, and my father said to my mother with a smile, “The other guy, that who, went to Shenyang and saw the Troupe Leader Liu. His family is doing well. I even asked him about his big girl (i.e., Eve Liu). How old is she!? She runs around, is not afraid of strangers, talks to people when she sees them, recites poems, sings songs, and can-do arithmetic within 100.”
Mom replied, “You still remember! She goes to a daycare center or kindergarten! I've heard that's where people are taught. What does that kid look like?”
Dad replied, "That I didn't ask."
Mom laughed and said, “You hid it from me!" Turning to me and said, "This little man, has a wife in the big city. In the future, after we go to school, we'll study hard and be better than her, we look down her! We're not going to climb up that high branch!”
Dad said, “Why don't you know? I couldn't ask. All he said was that the little girl was so smart, not afraid of strangers, and ran around the front and back yards. Such a little girl! Who can say she looks ugly!?”
Mom went into the inner room and stopped talking. At that time, I really wanted to listen. Mom noticed and said to Dad, “Little Luyan probably understands this! As soon as we talked Eve Liu, he stared and concentrated, listening very carefully!"
It seems that by this time, my eyesight had returned to near normal.
↪️
submitted by AdamLuyan to LifeTree [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 19:56 julinay Fancam Links for Day 2 of Onew's Fanmeet (2PM and 6PM Showings on 5/18)

(Just FYI, these aren't in any particular order, and some songs might have been missed! Fancams for the 6PM showing will be in a comment under this post. Day 1 fancams are here.)
>> 5/18 2PM Show <<
Prompt: “Will you sing until you’re 80?”
Jinki: “No, I will sing until the very end.”
Here
https://twitter.com/dubbabx2/status/1791732673964294574?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (learning & challenge)
https://twitter.com/justrolyn/status/1791719296508604634?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above w/ screen visible)
https://twitter.com/i_became_wintestatus/1791720119879761921?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above, different angle)
https://twitter.com/flamer_oflove/status/1791717081584632178?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791717826157215762?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/jinkizzang2ya/status/1791727846890881508?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (entire song)
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791709604197396970?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
https://twitter.com/loleeta718/status/1791708838229598234?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (starts with Shawols doing Giriboy's rap)
https://twitter.com/o_oo_ooo_oo/status/1791708481835467262?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
https://twitter.com/__i2i4/status/1791728980770382225?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/lettet1119/status/1791723234762899960?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/neverleaveu_u/status/1791748595164799016?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/wang_bbbang/status/1791739970962809132?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/lettet1119/status/1791714294939505124?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/geminids_night/status/1791728989775810639?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/__i2i4/status/1791718821893476771?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791710403384230148?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791698357922226337?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://x.com/sooponew/status/1791738749891842197?
https://twitter.com/gpensl_so_sweet/status/1791719282109513748?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/violisanz/status/1791735683473883223?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/o_newnyung/status/1791739222627635471?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/jinkizzang2ya/status/1791745670703177771?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/__i2i4/status/1791747761211117862
submitted by julinay to SHINee [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 19:52 ramdytis3c Poem & Jabba 2.3 - Sunday Morning Fever [M.I.R Musique]



Poem & Jabba 2.3 - Sunday Morning Fever / Key Fm, BPM 118, 7:54, MP3 19.02 Mb, AIFF 83.66 Mb

DOWNLOAD - progonlymusic com
submitted by ramdytis3c to proresivesound [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 19:40 Ok-Assistance-1860 Medusa - Taylor's Female Rage Narrative

Medusa - Taylor's Female Rage Narrative
Hat tip to u/rotty-mom for noting that today's scheduled photo release shows Taylor carrying the Versace Medusa bag reissue.
Taylor has worn several Medusa items over the past few months, including a pair of Versace sandals that Taylor Swift Style notes are very similar to ones made by Stella McCartney. So why Versace not Stella?
Medusa is a theme, maybe even a song, on RepTV.
Medusa Symbolism- Medusa is of course a woman who was accused of having sex with a god when in fact she was r*ped & then slut shamed by a woman in the worst way, having her hair turned to snakes.
The story is often told from the male perspective, she's a snake haired bitch who turns men to stone.
In reality, she was violated by someone she thought was her friend and instead of empathy, she was betrayed by a woman. Hmmm...starting to sound familiar.
The Perseus, a big shot with tons of ambition but also vulnerabilities that made him susceptible to blackmail, waited until Medusa was sleeping and then chopped off her head to use it for her power, turning people into snakes. So powerful dude...needs her power to further his own ends...cuts off her head expecting her to die, but she doesn't. gotcha. Good metaphors for the Rep era.
BUT ALSO, MEDUSA has been used consistently (multiple instances over several decades) to represent FEMALE RAGE. From Medusa's Wiki page:
"Medusa's visage has since been adopted by many women as a symbol of female rage; one of the first publications to express this idea was a feminist journal called Women: A Journal of Liberation in their issue one, volume six for 1978. The cover featured the image of the Gorgon Medusa by Froggi Lupton, which the editors on the inside cover explained "can be a map to guide us through our terrors, through the depths of our anger into the sources of our power as women."
Okay, represents female rage. Gotcha. But what else? Oh yeah, Medusa has been interpreted as reclaiming female sexuality and gay female sexuality specifically.
*"Elena Dykewomon's 1976 collection of lesbian stories and poems, [MORE POETRY!] They Will Know Me by My Teeth, features a drawing of [Medusa] on its cover. Its purpose was to act as a guardian for female power, keeping the book solely in the hands of women."
The whole Wiki entry is worth a read if you're a queer rep-era girly like me or just interested in the advanced easter egging we're getting right now.
submitted by Ok-Assistance-1860 to GaylorSwift [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 17:23 Filler-Dmon Not sure if abusive father and enabling mother, or just a screwed up family.

I don't know why I had trouble finding this sub earlier. With Abuse locked, and AITA excluding violence, I wasn't sure where to go for more perspective and advice. I swear I still remember calling the Domestic Abuse hotline and being told how their services and advice are more geared towards Spousal situations... but I also remember the first time I called them, after being recommended them by my work ERP, and how all of the symptoms of what I'm going through point directly point towards an abusive situation.
This is hard to work through, so I'm gonna just repost something I already posted in /AITAH. But I'd be happy to post any additional information; I'd do just about anything to get through what I'm currently dealing with.
I'm about to be 33 years old, male. I'm adopted since birth, and I've lived my whole life with my family so far. I have clinical depression and chronic anxiety, to the point of extreme intrusive thoughts and That kind of ideation.
My parents both come from horrible families themselves. Going into the military was a blessed relief for each of them from what I know of their pasts. They met each other, got married, and eventually adopted my siblings and then me.
Mom is a fixer. And regardless of everything that happens, I love her. She has always had my back, always been in my corner, always bent over backwards or fought for me. When I was younger, we used to struggle a bit here and there in regards to some moments, but once we realized how badly the entire family had been ignorant in regards to mental health, and started trying to be willing to talk about our different perspectives while being civil, our connection has never been stronger. Or at least I'd like to say that, and I'd like to keep it that way.
The man who I will keep calling Dad, for lack of a better term... is not the worst man in the world. He paid for things growing up. He's present for a decent amount. We had some bonds over video games and dragon ball and godzilla. There was love there. And Mom has made it clear that love is still there, at least from her point of view. She says he's gotten better, and the problems aren't as frequent, true.
But for me, the negatives have started eclipsing the positives in my memory. Particularly as my problems started manifesting while I struggled with life, and my opinions stopped being so simple. Particularly politically, where they come from a different time, and I couldn't be more opposed to them.
With Mom, we can still talk and honor each other's right to have differences.
With Dad, because of his past and mind, he doesn't do well with opinions that don't match his own. Even when he's being civil, he'll give politician type answers to yes or no questions while never addressing the point. It makes him insufferable to talk to. And he hates being challenged. He gets shouty. He gets angry. He gets threatening.
I'm 6'2, 260lbs of mix between fat and muscle, with 2 permanent injuries and struggling with fitness. He's taller than me, a veteran, a former prison guard, and can still weight lift like double his weight in his old age.
When we've had disagreements, he gets terrifying. Looming over me while yelling with his deep voice; that's his go-to, but sometimes there's violence. Folk needing to wrestle him off me. Him punching me in the face. Chasing me down a hill while I was in crutches and on the phone. Busting down my barricaded door and screaming at me, then holding my dog (18 long years, RIP) by her neck when she (a rescue in and of herself) got between me and him and started barking at him.
The last time Mom and I talked, she mentioned that I shouldn't still be holding these against him, both that it's not good for me and because the relationships would never mend, particularly that I'm not blameless in regards to family drama. But I've never hit anyone. I've never threatened to kill anyone, regardless of the invasive voices. I've never said "I"M GONNA SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YOU" while pressing my elbow into someone's neck, over a literal quarter.
I sincerely could be being too sensitive about this. It could be me not remembering enough of the good, and still being too bothered by the bad. Mom mentioned me hurting folk as well, so it's not like my emotional outbursts are that much better than his, even if I'm actively trying to deal with mine with antidepressants and trying to acknowledge and understand my behavior, and trying to avoid touchy subjects in general to help keep the peace.
Mother's day 2024; I come downstairs, read Mom a poem I came up with, and small talk is made. Eventually Mom jokes to me and my sister (who I also find troubling to talk with because she can be bitchy at times, though never to the point of intimidation and violence) that we should have married for money, not love, so that we'd have an easy life. I reply that I could never do so, particularly because I'm too ugly to do so, and the conversation shifts to recent therapy and my mental health, to which I say I have to battle with my lack of confidence every day.
To which Dad says "[my] problems are [my] choice". To which I start getting heated in the moment, and tell him "No, you're wrong." We both repeat, louder. He assumes his 'rearing Grizzly' stance, yelling "I'M NOT GOING TO ARGUE WITH YOU!", and after Mom tries to use Mother's day to coo him down, makes another scathing comment from the kitchen that I could hear.
I go upstairs, and when Mom follows me, I try to talk about other things. But she's determined to ask me if I hate him. I keep trying to dodge, and beg her not to push me into answering, to which she just confirms the unspoken and walks off.
Fully triggered, I try to leave before I make things worse, but when Dad tries to ask me not to go, I tell him to Fuck Off before just driving. Apparently while I was gone, he punched and broke a door in his rage that he still can't connect to me. And when Mom went to buy a new door, their truck hit a pole. And then when I come back, and she tries to talk to me, I scream at her. (I couldn't handle being told "Oh, it's okay. I don't deserve a mother's day because I didn't birth any of you.") Best. Mother's. Day. Ever.
While I was gone, the family called me almost 30 times. I wanted to leave, to de-stress, to get this venom in my arms to settle, to not lash out. I ended up calling multiple emergency phone numbers to try to vent. And I tried to go to the arcade to vent. Invasive thoughts about stabbing a family member? Terrible. Thoughts of shooting zombies for a few hours? Much better. But I couldn't at all relax and distract myself as Mom and sister wouldn't stop calling me.
Next day, Mom and I try to talk again. With her wanting me to find forgiveness and peace, even as I both despise him for these lows, and myself for this guilt I feel about the family dynamics. And we fail to reach a resolution, with her depression and my own only making each other worse. Thinking I wouldn't be allowed to leave the house to cool-down, I go upstairs, max out my music, and scream. A bit of floor slamming, but largely screaming as much as I can, to try force out the venom I can feel inside me. Understandably, Mom came up to stop the noise. Unfortunately, that noise was the only think suppressing my worst thoughts, and the feel of venom in my arms. Fortunately, Mom came back quick enough that my first (and hopefully only) scars are largely scratches that will fade. If anything, her pulling the work knife out of my hand nicked those fingers even worse. And understandably, even as her former Marine tried to force more conversation that day, I just remember feeling defeated inside. I contact as much of my support group as I can muster, take a sick day, and go to sleep.
Next morning, my therapist calls me, and we talk. And I share all of my feelings. All of this. Unfortunately, the appointment was later in the morning than normal, family were up and about in the living room, and I didn't realize they were basically all just listening. And they heard. Every. Word. Everything of this. Apparently I reduced Dad to tears, let alone offending everyone else.
For the second time in multiple days, I thought I was going to get kicked out. Mom did offer me my own place, but being trapped with my mixed feelings would make that a complete waste of money and effort. I'm basically just not on speaking terms with the family, and I feel like a Pariah.
To the point where after crying about it for an hour at work, I eventually sucked it up, called Mom, asked Dad to be on speaker, and suggested family counseling, at an attempt at an olive branch.
But isolated in my room away from everyone else (to the point of not even showering, eating, and largely not even touching my computer), and then at my next day of work, I've had time to think. Think about how these lows still keep happening. About how the schism between me and the family has always been growing politically. How previous therapists, emergency numbers, friends, coworkers, and the domestic abuse hotline, all say it's a cycle of (unintentional) abuse. How as is, I wouldn't take back like 90% of what I expressed because it feels true. How he also used to blow up on other people as well. How his senselessness can lead him to yelling at a 2nd Rescue Dog that barks too much. Or sending pictures of Tarantulas to a cousin with extreme mental illness (think drugs in the womb type mental troubles) as just casual texting.
But I also still feel guilty. Even with personality, interest, and political opinions differing, they do still try to care. I've been with them all my life. And it makes me feel horrible when they help by trying to cook or clean or anything, when the interpersonal relationships are so low.
And as much as I reflect on the lows being so unbearably low with him, I can't pretend they've been not as frequent, nor that I grew up 1000x better than how they did. My problems are first world as all hell, and plenty would kill to be as privileged as I am. This can not be understated. I don't think it justifies his behavior, but to say that it makes sense is at least fair.
And I want to stay connected, at least to Mom. And even if my sister and I don't have a really personal feeling relationship, I like being the cool uncle to one of my nephews. Teaching him about video games and sonic and dragon ball has been great. I don't want to let that go.
And as bad as his worsts have been... others don't even have their families. And others still have been hurt even worse by family, or outright thrown out by now, and similar...
I keep having these crying episodes. I'm struggling with mixed feelings of love and hate, indignation and guilt, and I don't know how to proceed from here.
submitted by Filler-Dmon to domesticviolence [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 17:02 dickless_dan_420 Silver Star

A poem I wrote in january when it snowed after a really bad time.
From the dreamless pit of slumber, I arise with dreary eyes, And a shiver in the murky dawn, To the flicker of my phone. "Tis but another day," I murmur, my voice low, monotone.
Through ponderous steps and countless yawns, I drag myself from bed, To brave up for the numb of morning's cold, For another day of nothing, For another day of bore.
What is worth to be awake When all you have to wake up for Are all shades of black and brown, All the gray of clouded sun?
Through deserted streets I wander, The villagers are dormant still, And the chimneys, forever puffing, Vent the souls of kindled wood.
Sheepish trees with naked branches Share a seat for bitter crows, Croaking elegies of loss For their far-flung friends.
And the dark of dawn pervades, Befouling the very air, And the ground is hard and black, Shunned even by the bugs.
And the sky is gray, And the trees are nude and brown, And the ground is black, And I want to go inside.
But then I flinch, On my skin, I feel a pinch, A frigid flake prickles my spine, And I cannot help but smile, As little shards of pristine white, Suavely infest the dark, And in my hand, as if God-given, Fell a silver star.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/ZGgeIhZaWA
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/Z17p5fERrF
submitted by dickless_dan_420 to OCPoetry [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 14:28 Responsible_Tea4889 Idek what poems we r doing

Aqa - is it power and conflict? I dont have an anthology 😭
submitted by Responsible_Tea4889 to GCSE [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 14:08 philthehippy Letters from, to, and about J.R.R. Tolkien sent this week (13 - 19 May)

Hello all, below are a selection of letters sent from, to, and about J. R. R. Tolkien in the week of 13 to 19 May. (Links lead to our 'On This Day' page where you can search all dates and see other letters on any day.)
13 May
JRRT to C.A. Furth (at George Allen & Unwin) 13 May 1937 - Tolkien writes, offering his thoughts on a potential publication of The Hobbit in the US. He says that he can produce the illustrations requested or if they prefer, they can contract another artist for the work. He does however say that he would want to veto anything that is too alike to a Disney style.
JRRT to Rayner Unwin (at George Allen & Unwin) 13 May 1954 - Tolkien expresses his pleasure at the opinions of The Lord of the Rings. He is not pleased with the Houghton Mifflin edition for the USA market and offers some suggestions to improve it.
JRRT to Joy Hill (at George Allen & Unwin) - 13 May 1966 - Writing to his secretary, Tolkien thanks her for the packets sent to him. He would like a ticket for a Donald Swann concert and notes that he will not send anything to be used in the Tolkien Reader. He notes that The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth would be much more suited to a collected volume than anything connected to The Lord of the Rings, which had been suggested by Stanley Unwin.
14 May
G.B. Smith to JRRT ?14 May 1915 - Smith writes to Tolkien asking him to send his poem, 'Goblin Feet' to the editor of Oxford Poetry, 1915.
Christopher Wiseman to JRRT 19 May 1917 - Wiseman returns manuscripts of G.B. Smith's poetry to Tolkien.
JRRT to Christopher Tolkien 14 May 1944 - Writing to his son Christopher, Tolkien gives updates on The Lord of the Rings among other happenings. He has heard C.S. Lewis reading from some chapters of his work, The Great Divorce.
JRRT to Joy Hill (at George Allen & Unwin) 14 May 1962 - Tolkien sends corrected proofs for The Adventures of Tom Bombadil.
JRRT to Jonathan Wordsworth 14 May 1972 - Tolkien writes to Wordsworth accepting an invitation to dine with 'The Society', an Oxford Dining club.
15 May
JRRT to Florence Williams (wife of Charles Williams) 15 May 1945 - Tolkien writes expresses his sympathy to Florence and her son on the death of Charles Williams.
George S. Gordon to Kenneth Sisam 15 May 1924 - Tolkien's co-editor on the Clarendon Chauver writes to Kenneth Sisam to say that Tolkien has agreed to retire from the project.
16 May
JRRT to Rayner Unwin (at George Allen & Unwin) 16 May 1958 - Tolkien gives Rayner Unwin an update on his health, namely after some dental issues. he notes that he has not been able to work on the matter of the Zimmerman Lord of the Rings movie but includes some commentary.
Edith Tolkien to Alan Rook 16 May 1939 - Edith writes to Alan Rook, a student from Oxford, inviting him to the Tolkien's home at the weekend.
17 May
JRRT to H.S. Bennet 17 May 1954 - Tolkien writes on C.S. Lewis' proposed move to Cambridge.
JRRT to David Best 17 May 1967 - Tolkien replies to a fan who had written to Tolkien, including a version of Tom Bombadil written in English runes.
18 May
JRRT to Robert Theodore Meyer 18 May 1972 - Tolkien writes, declining a request to be interviewed.
Henry Willink to JRRT 18 May 1949 - Willink gives Tolkien an update on his wifes ill-health. he also remarks on his admiration and appreciation for The Hobbit.
19 May
JRRT to Miss Turnbull 19 May 1955 - Tolkien thanks Miss Turnbull for a gift and says that he at last sent proofs for The Return of The King to his publisher.
JRRT to Dr. Zettersten 19 May 1959 - Tolkien writes, remarking that Ancrene Wisse is now at the press and publication will depend on hwo quickly he can return the proofs.
Tags on the letters above include The Hobbit, Illustrations, US publishing, The Lord of the Rings, C.S. Lewis, Fæder his suna, The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, Oxford University, Poetry, World War I, Catholocism, Charles Williams, Clarendon Chaucer, George S. Gordon, The Lord of the Rings movie, Runes, The Return of the King, Ancrene Wisse, Health, A Spring Harvest.
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2024.05.18 12:24 OnlineBookClub Book of the Day, May 18th -- The Sound of the Broken Wand: The Poems by Tiki Black

Book of the Day, May 18th -- The Sound of the Broken Wand: The Poems by Tiki Black
https://preview.redd.it/3aeyafnuv51d1.jpg?width=332&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=be24630bcb391cbe5e28c2d1efbea4c4b89e4ebf
Book of the Day, May 18th -- Drama and Poetry, Rated 5/5 stars
Temporarily FREE on Kindle! Get your copy below:
https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=658422
The Sound of the Broken Wand: The Poems by Tiki Black
This book has earned a PERFECT 5-star rating from an Official Onlinebookclub.org Reviewer, and has eight 5-star ratings on Amazon!
Award-winning singer and songwriter Tiki Black blends her multicultural assets to create intricate lyrics and memorable music. Tiki now bares her soul with her first book, a beautifully written collection of poems and a unique accompaniment to her sophomore album.
"I was completely absorbed in every poem of this book, so much so that I could not put it down until I had finished it. The poems are full of emotions, and I felt every single one of them." ~ Amazon Reviewer
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https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=658422
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2024.05.18 10:59 can_hardly_fly Some possible influences on Tolkien by Chaucer

I had been posting here for a long time as “roacsonofcarc.” The other night some kind of digital upheaval threw me off my desktop and wiped out my all saved passwords. I talked Reddit into letting me back in, but for some reason my identity changed.
For my first post under this new name, here are some of Tolkien's possible connections to one of my favorite authors: Geoffrey Chaucer.1 In his The House of Fame, an eagle carries the poet (in a dream) to the palace of the goddess Fame. On first being picked up, Chaucer faints. When he comes to:
And here-withal I gan to stere,/And he me in his fet to bere,/Til that he felte that I had hete,/And felte eke tho myn herte bete./And thoo gan he me to disporte,/And with wordes to comforte,/And sayde twyes, "Seynte Marye!/Thou art noyous for to carye,/And nothyng nedeth it, pardee!/For, also wis God helpe me,/As thou noon harm shalt have of this;/And this caas that betyd the is,/Is for thy lore and for thy prow.
The sense of this, for those who can't deal with Middle English, is that the eagle tells Chaucer not to be such a pain, because nobody is going to hurt him. The cream of it is the adjective “noyous,” which as you might suspect means “annoying.” (One of the things I like about Chaucer is that he makes himself the butt of all his best jokes.) When I reread the poem a few months back, this reminded me of Bilbo being airlifted to the Carrock:
Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was far away, and the mountains were falling back behind them into the distance. He shut his eyes again and held on tighter.
"Don't pinch!" said his eagle. "You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer than flying?"
Bilbo would have liked to say: "A warm bath and late breakfast on the lawn afterwards;" but he thought it better to say nothing at all, and to let go his clutch just a tiny bit.
Though Bilbo is riding on his eagle's back, while Chaucer is carried in its claws. Next, here is a line from Tolkien's best-known scene of courtship: “And Eowyn looked at Faramir long and steadily; and Faramir said: 'Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Eowyn!'” I don't think it is a coincidence that Chaucer wrote that “pitee renneth soone in gentil herte”; in fact, he liked the line so much he used it three times – in the “Knight's Tale.” the ”Squire's Tale,” and The Legend of Good Women.
And then there is the lightness of the linden tree.2 The first preserved version of the story of Beren and Luthien is a poem that appeared in 1925 in a magazine published by Leeds University (where Tolkien was teaching), under the title “Light as Leaf on Lindentree.” That exact phrase does not appear in LotR, but Aragorn's song at Weathertop includesHe heard there oft the flying sound/Of feet as light as linden-leaves. “ The lightness of linden leaves is also alluded to in Legolas's “Song of Nimrodel": And in the wind she went as light/As leaf of linden-tree.
Tilia cordata is a European species, and I don't know what about its leaves makes them light. But the association is old. It occurs in Chaucer in the “Envoi” to the “Clerk's Tale,” which advises wives to Be ay of chiere as light as leef on lynde, “Be ever in behavior as light as a leaf on a linden tree.” And here is one of the best things in William Langland's Piers Plowman (a poem I mostly find drab compared to Chaucer):
Love is plonte of pees, most precious of vertues/For hevene hold it ne mighte, so heuy hit first semede/Til hit had of erthe ygoten hitsilue./Was never lef uppon lynde lyghtere ther-aftur./As when hit hadde of the folde flesch and blode taken./Tho was it persaunt and portatif as the point of a nelde/May none armure hit let ne none heye walles
Love is plant of peace · most precious of virtues./For Heaven might not hold it · so heavy it seemed/Till it had of the earth · begotten itself./Never was leaf upon linden · lighter thereafter,/As when it had of the field · flesh and blood taken,/Then was it pricking and piercing · as the point of a needle,/That no armour might stay it · nor any high walls.
(Langland is writing about the Incarnation of Christ. Michael Drout's J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia notes both of these, at p. 525.)
Finally, in “The Window on the West,” Faramir says of Boromir's horn:
The shards came severally to shore: one was found among the reeds where watchers of Gondor lay, northwards below the infalls of the Entwash; the other was found spinning on the flood by one who had an errand on the water. Strange chances, but murder will out, ’tis said.
“Murder will out” is one proverb that Tolkien did not make up; it is commonplace in English literature. Chaucer surely didn't invent it either, but this is another phrase that appears three times in the Canterbury Tales. Here it is in the “Nun's Priest's Tale”:
Mordre wol out; that se we day by day./Mordre is so wlatsom [disgusting] and abhomynable/To God, that is so just and resonable,/That he ne wol nat suffre it heled [hidden] be,/Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or thre./Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun.
Tolkien knew the “Nun's Priest's Tale” by heart. In 1938 he dressed as Chaucer and recited it from memory before an Oxford audience. See Letters 32, pp. 39-40, and the Carpenter Biography at p. 214..
1, Sorry if I have posted some of these before. Gandalf too experienced some memory loss while on hiatus.
  1. According to the OED, the name of the tree was originally the “lind,” or sometimes the “lime.” “Linden” was originally an adjective, like “dwarven.”
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2024.05.18 09:52 BirchTainer Never been prouder to be a redditor

Never been prouder to be a redditor submitted by BirchTainer to LoveForRedditors [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 09:15 epiphanyshearld Metamorphoses by Ovid: Reading Begins and Context Post

Today (May 18) marks the beginning of our reading of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. We will be reading it over the course of the next eight weeks and will be reading two “books” aka chapters per week until the final week, where we will be reading the final book. Below is our reading and discussion schedule:

To see our full schedule for 2024, click here.
It is important to note, that many of the stories within the Metamorphoses are extremely violent and, depending on your translation, graphic in nature. There are many instances of on-page sexual violence and rape, so please be aware of this before reading. Unfortunately, I haven’t read this text before, so I can’t provide you guys with a more detailed list of warnings or of when said things happen within the text. I wish I could. If anyone has read this text before and would like to help me with adding content warnings, please leave a comment below or DM me.
Aside from this, the Metamorphoses is seen as accessible for modern readers. I have a translation guide available here, which provides some info on which translations are more graphic than others. Please note that every translation will contain some references to the violence in the original text. This is a good thing, in terms of preserving history but may not be comfortable for some readers, which is understandable.
Ovid:
Publius Ovidius Naso aka Ovid was born in 43 BCE and lived until 17CE. This means that he was born during the final years of the Roman Republic and lived most of his life during the early years of the Roman Empire. He was born to an old and wealthy family. He began writing quite young and was a celebrated poet for most of his adult life. He started out writing romantic poetry and then moved into more ambitious (and subversive) styles. He was famous during his lifetime, which was kind of his downfall – the Emperor, Augustus, exiled him in 8CE. We don’t know what he did to anger Augustus specifically, but it was enough to get Ovid exiled to a place called Tomis for the rest of his life. There are some theories that Ovid was associated with someone who helped Augustus’ granddaughter in her adultery, but we will never know for sure. It appears that Ovid spent his last few years writing in Tomis, with some hope that the publication of more of his work could lead to Augustus forgiving him. That didn’t happen, but Ovid did complete the entire Metamorphoses, which has gone on to be a major source of what we know about the Greco/Roman mythos for generations. It also appears that, unlike with Virgil's Aeneid, Augustus had little to no chance at interfering with the work (as it was complete upon Ovid's death). Which is a major plus, in terms of us getting to read what the author intended us to read.
The Metamorphoses:
The Metamorphoses is a long narrative poem that is split over fifteen books. The poem is extremely ambitious in its scope: from the creation of the world to Ovid’s lifetime. The main thing that links all the stories together is the theme (and title) of the text: transformation (Metamorphoses). As mentioned in the last section, Ovid was an acclaimed poet and a master in his craft. In the Metamorphoses, Ovid plays around and even deconstructs the myths and the poetic styles that have come before. So, even though the overall text is very pro-Rome, I think it is fair to say that, from a technical and story standpoint, the overall work is subversive. It has had a huge influence on other writers and artists since the time it was published.
A lot of myths are included within these books so it would be hard for me to list them all here. However, some of the best-known versions of the myths come from the Metamorphoses such as the tragic story of Medusa, the birth and early life of the god Bacchus (aka Dionysus) and tales like the story of Atalanta. The poem also covers some myths we are familiar with here on the sub, such as the story of Jason and the Argonauts and the Trojan War. It will be interesting to read Ovid’s more Roman-centric perspective of this older myths.
Due to this text being written by a Roman poet, the names of the gods and many of the heroes are different here than in the other (Greek era) texts we have read. Here’s a link to a breakdown of the major name changes.
After we finish the Metamorphoses, we will be reading Natalie Haynes book Pandora's Jar, which is a modern collection of essays that focus on the portrayal of women within the Greek mythos.
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2024.05.18 08:00 AutoModerator Things I Spotted This Week - [2024/05/18]

Gather around everyone and let's talk about the things you spotted this week while watching dramas! This is the place to share if you spotted any of the following:
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2024.05.18 07:47 R-u-jj A poem about desperation

The pain of desperation. It’s like nothing else. It is the deepest darkness. It swallows me whole. Silences my screams. Turns my thoughts into a prison.
Desperation is unbearable. It’s a storm. It’s a fire. It’s a cancer.
You gave me this cancer. You are my disease. The scream I’ve been screaming for almost a year now.
You brought me love. And then you poisoned it. And then you turned it into the deepest darkness. And then you let it swallow me whole. And then you let it silence my screams. And then you let it turn my thoughts into a prison.
—-
A poem for M. From R.
I hope you never see this. But I hope you know it in your heart somehow.
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