Poem - Welcome Back

Jul. 21st, 2017 05:22 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
The poem “Welcome Back” was written after I saw an article that expressed how people now felt about ACA. One person said, ““I can’t even remember why I opposed it”. Well, I think I do. Back in the day, the Conservative news-a-sphere was on fire regarding how incredibly evil ACA was. Now, well, not as much. Can people not remember the news and comment they were digesting? The “welcome back” I refer to is either: “welcome back to (relative / moderate) sanity” or “welcome back to your bubble”.


Welcome Back

Welcome back diverted ones
the band has quit it's braying tune
bending wills to tow the line
just as the piper led the mice
silence waits to fill the ears
on the path to doom's embrace
how did the faithful come so far
to then realize they've been had?

The talking heads had their day
pundits talking up their game
while the soothing drums clambered on
to the walls, the hordes come
this was the Wizard's battle cry
as smoke and fire rose to the sky
while behind the curtain's fringe
the band played on with talking points.

'Just the facts' was chant
against the lies of heathen foes
I'll not blame a single one
for buying this with all their heart
when the fear is pumped up
with uncertainty close behind
the dread is the worse of all
combined they are a speaker's ploy.

The narcotic drip was attached
providing stimulant without backlash
those jaded days of railed dissent
when all were high with discontent
the fun's been had, now comes price
a hangover with harsh withdrawal
the fake news has come up flat
though hair of the dog may be had.

Get ready for a sad encore
as the band resumes their march
the volume has been reduced
asking all to find their marks
the piper seeks willing dupes
with a fate too near at hand
doom still calls to that kind
will the targets be twice fooled?

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170721.

Today's DailyOM Offerings...

NSFW Jul. 21st, 2017 11:18 am
ariestess: (damien thorn -- from annie)
[personal profile] ariestess
( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

[Art] A parrot. A parrot. A parrot.

Jul. 21st, 2017 01:04 pm
moonvoice: (t - i am googled therefore i am)
[personal profile] moonvoice
I'm going to be cancelling my paid account at Photobucket,
so you may notice a lot of dead image links at some point in the future here.
(Right now they're still being hosted because I have a paid account).
I've switched over to SmugMug, so everything should be hosted from here on in.
So we should be good for a little while longer anyway.
Now let's see if this works.


Orange-Bellied Parrot as Totem



Pesquet's Parrot



Pale-Headed Rosella


LGBT book

Jul. 20th, 2017 08:09 pm
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
[personal profile] fayanora
I don't want to spoil anything, but for anyone looking for books with LGBT characters, one of the two primary protagonists of "Down Among The Sticks And Bones" by Seanan McGuire is a lesbian by chapter 9.

On a somewhat related note, the first four or five chapters of that book are an absolutely amazing and frankly horrifying depiction of how to royally mess up children. Without being malicious, the parents of Jacqueline and Jillian are worse than the Dursleys from Harry Potter!

Poem - More Than A Stranger

Jul. 20th, 2017 10:04 pm
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
[personal profile] kokopelle
I follow several YouTube content providers. They are a “second family” that I see through the internet’s one-way mirror. At the same time there are people who follow my social media feeds. For them, I am the person on the other side of the mirror.


More Than A Stranger

Another post from the frontier
a distant realm I behold
far removed from this room
yet close enough to fill my world
electronic whispers I can’t ignore
echo across connecting wires
from the camera to my screen
repetition reveals a friend.

On vblog or shared broadcast
they’ll say hello with many themes
I celebrate what I hear
contrast is the joint mission
more than a stranger, less than a friend
perhaps one day they’ll know I care
concern extended is only felt
when I post comments with the rest.

With a click I’ll stretch my hand
raise my voice to speak above
one of many existing in
the gulf between here and there
the lines are blurred as I recede
into the crowd that fills the land
from local doorstep to far shore
yet close enough to fill my world.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170720.

Malevolent Moon

Jul. 20th, 2017 02:25 am
svaenohr: (Default)
[personal profile] svaenohr
Inspired by a scene in "Down Among The Sticks and Bones" by [personal profile] seanan_mcguire

Malevolent Moon
By Pyrayton Svaenohr

Malevolent moon, red burning eye
Judging from within the sky
Its looming presence so suffocating
Fills your being full of hating
It crowds the heavens like a festering sore
Bleeding malice forevermore
Across hot coals your soul it's raking,
Its silent screams sanity's unmaking
Abandon hope, ye who enter here
For all you'll find is terror, fear
No sign nor warning will ever suffice
To balance the evil's power to entice
Be sure, be sure, ere the threshold be cross't
Lest thy soul be forever lost.

Poem - Kept in a Cage

Jul. 19th, 2017 04:26 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
“Kept in a Cage” is about one of the nuances of the human experience.


Kept in a Cage

The creature is best kept in a cage
lest the world know of its ways
longing for far too much
in the realm of civil folk
you'll not hear the growling sigh
unless the muse betrays my trust
too much shared along the way
by putting words to damning page.

The hunger is kept at bay
slackened only by hand fed scraps
delivered in due privacy
lest the world see depravity
the diet would cause me shame
with only demons comforting
their howls of coarse delight
providing shame in my heart.

I wish I could slay the freak
remove the stain from myself
never will this come about
it's part of my humanity
excuse me while I lock the door
throw the bar against the urge
the beast will stay away from you
best for all, kept in a cage.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170719.

Post-trip

Jul. 19th, 2017 12:51 am
serpentine: (Default)
[personal profile] serpentine
I have survived my trip to Upstate New York and visiting family up there. I somehow slept a lot and ended up not socializing as much with family as I could've. If I wasn't so tired, I would've gone to dinner last night for example, but I just was too cranky to people properly.

I'm really glad that the wedding was cancelled tbh bcause I'm not sure if I could've done it without spending too much of my social bandwidth (which is a term I've seen around?? But I remember using it before everyone else back in college. Did others come up with it separately or did I legit coin a phrase?? Either is possible.) Anyways, I didn't get as much reading as I would've liked done, but I did get a lot of work on my Tomarry Big Bang done so that's one thing.

The other thing that was neglected was working on my cross-stitch project, but that's okay. I just didn't feel like working on it much and that's okay.

I also did some fun things. That was good. I need to go to bed now or I'd go on in more detail.

Poem - Day More Sad

Jul. 18th, 2017 08:59 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
Ideation takes sad days to some very bad places. Some people turn to self-harm to find relief from anxiety or to have some feeling beyond the grieving numbness. An alternative to this dire path is creativity via the arts, and for me, poetry is the outlet.


Day More Sad

a day more sad than most of them
in between the glamour found
where the dancing brings only light
with music played to fill the heart

the gulf is deep with no bottom
none I can see with my eyes
this is the place where darkness lurks
the innate state of my soul

a test of wills is then joined
the thrill is wane in the face
of the low grade misery
ideation for the end

the minutes move just the same
asking me to fulfill the tasks
joy absent from completion's sake
meant to satisfy the day's expanse

here I wonder if it's worthwhile
to remain, to endure the slog
just to peak a future date
then fall back down to wait again

perhaps the peace would be my last
stretch through time unlike the now
no longer waiting for another day
because the same will always be

temptation calls with easy voice
promises made against resolve
a test of strength between the two
this day more sad than the rest

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170718.

Poem - Barriers of the Flesh

Jul. 17th, 2017 07:56 pm
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
[personal profile] kokopelle
“Barriers of the Flesh” is about encounters outside of conventional, accepted relationships.


Barriers of the Flesh

The walls fall, tumbling down
as my hands find their place
the door flung opened wide
invitation to have my way
flesh desired is now had
bargain set between adults
mine is given equally
mutual pleasure the end goal.

What's needed is not sacrosanct
blessed by the angels far above
as they turn from the sight
lest the Lord hear of the sin
the blissful rubble is where I'll lay
satisfied to have found my way
to the beauty found within
outside barriers that I had built.

Tomorrow I'll bear the wrath
feel the stares from fellow man
today feels no reproach
skin's deep hunger shields me now
they'll ask if love was the cause
I'll reply yes if it's understood
passion promised led me there
into arms that delivered all.

Forgive the weakness of my walls
what was asked was too much
the salve of dogma was found lack
when deep inside I had a void
a vacuum begged to be filled
with physique jointly shared
no lack of want was the cause
to breach the barriers of the flesh.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170717.

Poem - Timing’s Cure

Jul. 16th, 2017 11:42 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
People act as examples to each others. These examples can give assurances that others are not unique. Perceived shortcomings are in fact part of a larger plan.


Timing’s Cure

I was not born this way
so say the judges who critique
the ways of right and wrong alike
not knowing why I am myself

perhaps they’re right in their speech
with all these masks I present
reckoning substance from intent
when shall I strive to show myself?

this path has timing I’ll present
to make straight the twisted ways
unwind the riddle that I present
by living here in your midst

far too early would be brash
not understand by the rest
when the paint is still fresh
comes the leader with none to follow

the muse asks the out reach
to be the moment it was meant
insight given to consider
mediating what must come

we were born to find our way
asked to drop the masks still worn
I’ll do my part with timing’s cure
evoking insight to those still lost.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170716.

Poem - The Reflections

Jul. 15th, 2017 12:34 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
“The Reflections” is about supplementing self-worth through the feedback from true friends.


The Reflections

In the mirror of my friends
the truer portrait is revealed
of the one I’d like to be
and not the wreck of self-esteem

when I allow them to draw near
it’s made plain that I have worth
not in dollars that may be spent
instead in treasures of the heart

flaws are the norm in human form
this is acknowledged to be true
these are less than beauty’s count
I see echoed in their eyes

the reflections are not the same
across the breadth of who they know
to be cherished in special ways
unlike all others, each their own

in these mirrors I hope to find
the sum of love outwardly felt
so I may take this inwardly
find my reasons to carry on.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170715.

Poem - Mirror, Mirror

Jul. 14th, 2017 11:50 am
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
“Mirror, Mirror” was written about my dislike of mirrors and my mild symptoms of BDD.


Mirror, Mirror

Mirror mirror on the wall
avert your gaze from this mortal
rescind judgment, look away
I'll have no part with you today
others may rebuff themselves
or even worse, in relative
these I'll look with different eye
gauge their beauty above the blot.

Then the monsters assert themselves
in form of mist inside my head
capturing vision to misuse
seeking wounds on psyche’s soul
taunting whispers, pointing paws
stating wrongness all too large
flaws are plain in their sight
best to turn in case they're right.

Others don’t see my flaws
or if they do, they play them down
mole hills where I see mountains
a little bump where I feel walls
the quickest glance is enough
please don't pause, look too long
lest the fears be then confirmed
by mirror, mirror on the wall.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170714.

[Art] A Fox. A Grouse.

Jul. 15th, 2017 09:15 pm
moonvoice: (o - games - eleven of pokemon?)
[personal profile] moonvoice
It's always weird to draw a grouse while thinking of how,
in Australia,
'grouse' means 'awesome'
like: 'that's so grouse man.'
But I'm glad it's fallen out of colloquial vernacular in Perth.
I was never a fan.


Darwin's Fox as Totem // Available

 photo 2017 - Darwins Fox as Totem Original 650x_zpsl7m9fuyz.jpg

Photos under the cut. )

Red Grouse as Totem // Available

 photo 2017 - Red Grouse as Totem Original 650x_zpsmox2zpvi.jpg

Photos under the cut. )

Summoning objects in dreams

Jul. 14th, 2017 08:44 pm
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
[personal profile] fayanora
I've started to notice a new ability in dreams: summoning lost objects.

To explain: I have a lot of dreams where I'm carrying something and I set it down for some reason, only to turn around and it's gone because the geography of the dream has changed. I usually spend long minutes hunting around for the lost object until I either wake up or the dream changes and I forget about the object. But twice now that I know of, I have searched only a couple minutes before going "Fuck this" and summoning the object. Like part of my mind is aware it's a dream, and this affords me just enough power to summon the object.

The first time this happened, it was a bicycle. I wanted to bike up this nature trail because hey, in a dream I can do physical stuff without getting tired and without expending any effort, but I couldn't find where I'd parked my bike. After searching for a few minutes, I mentally went "Fuck this" and grabbed the air ahead of me, concentrating on the bike. Suddenly, I had the bike and I could go biking.

Last night, it happened again, a different dream and different situation. I had lost my umbrella this time, set it down on some steps that I couldn't find again later, and I needed it before I could leave the school building I was in (school dreams: depressingly common for me), and I searched maybe a whole minute before remembering my newfound dream power. I held up my hand, said "Accio umbrella!" and the umbrella was in my hand. I was thus able to leave the building and, whether coincidence or not, also woke up then.

Current mood

Jul. 13th, 2017 07:45 pm
fayanora: Processing (Processing)
[personal profile] fayanora
Current mood: smoldering embers impatiently awaiting kindling

Scifi poem

Jul. 13th, 2017 06:13 pm
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
[personal profile] fayanora
I found this poem I wrote some unknown time ago. I was considering publishing it, but I wouldn't know where, and it's so much work for so long to do that, I just don't want to go to that much trouble when I could just hit "post entry." And it's such an amazing poem! Told from the perpective of... well, you'll see.


“The Brown, The Green, and The Black”
By = Tempest Alexandria Arts

The white man took the world, spreading out among its lands by sea,
Exploiting all they touched, stealing the land from the people already there.
They stole the New World from the natives, killing the Red Man,
Bringing the Black Man from Africa as slaves to work for them.

They went to China, spread drug addiction and misery, for their profit,
And India for spices they never use, spreading misery to the cradle of writing.
Every bit of land they could find they took for theirs,
Exploiting its people even into the 21st century.

The white man went into space, and found no resources, no people to exploit,
So they grew bored with it, for the most part.
Sure, they sent their robots out to fly by far-off worlds,
Touched the moon a few times with their men, but then stopped.
“There's nothing in space but black,” they said,
Upset they'd made no green.

When the people of India and China started going up there, they scoffed.
“We wasted all that money going up there; they're not learning from our mistakes!”
They told us all there was in space was rocks and more rocks,
Forgetting there was a time when all we had were rocks;
All they let us have as they raped our lands were stones.

Like weeds growing in the sidewalk, they tried to kill us off,
So they could keep our lands for themselves.
But like weeds growing in the sidewalk, we persisted.
For life would always find a way, and we still lived.

We found the barren rocks they'd abandoned,
And grew like weeds among them.
In the black, we – the brown – made green.
The green of growth, as we built giant rotating farms in the sky.

From India and China, from Japan, from Africa,
From the Middle East, from the New World,
All the brown and red and yellow, every color but white,
Worldwide, we came together and spread through the black,
Making stone soup, growing life among the stars.

The white man still owns the earth, but we own the stars,
With colonies on the moon, the asteroids, and Mars.
And the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, and beyond.
Millions of acres of farm and factory, raking in two kinds of green.
Feeding humanity, the breadbasket of the solar system is no longer earth.

And the white man? They are tourists with their cameras,
The old Japanese stereotype passed on to them,
As they marvel at all we've built, at all the green,
The same color they've become, with envy,
Because they were too 'yellow' to make green among the black,
Leaving that to the brown.
To us.

Poem - Natural

Jul. 8th, 2017 08:53 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
My daily review of Tumblr found a blog posting by an abuse survivor. It spoke to the tension, masking, and eventual tainting of the sufferer by the toxic situation. Their words prompted me to write “Natural”


Natural

Is it natural to want to hurt
toxic aims held to heart
planning harm at future’s time?
this pondering is for other ones
kin supposed to care for you
though actions say otherwise

in this place the dread is real
the belt or stick is near at hand
at any time the fist may fly
the not knowing is the worse
expectation of future’s realm
that drains the spirit in the now

others only see the mask
nice for a time to trick the rube
the intent is to confuse
this false journey to the norm
is life’s sad laugh from a god
allowing pain to find a child

anxiety becomes a lifestyle
a full time job with no pay
helplessness against the wrong
imbuing illness to accept
or promote the same within the self
this natural is the Devil’s gain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170708.

Poem - Enough

Jul. 13th, 2017 08:31 pm
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
[personal profile] kokopelle
“Enough” was inspired by the maddening disconnect between what people say they want, what they really want, and how they act when they receive the latter.


Enough

I wish I was enough for them
filling lives with luridness
at the same time falling short
with a lack they'll approve
alluring tease bereft of guile
an equal who knows their place
fair to eye to please the lust
still demure to reflect desire

maturity is confidence
blessed when life hits the ropes
an object for the pedestal
prized with a wisdom they proclaim
this is true, except when it's not
fateful youth fills the mind
no gender is safe in their age
when juicy fruit is what they're not

I'd be saint and the whore
which of these would they like?
one to sate a holy book
the other brings pleasure to the loins
both exist to fill this shell
available at a moment's whim
frightening those who realize
the same is found within their mind

strength is blessing for a time
with the source in life's realm
wisdom of a thousand days
attraction hung to tempt a world
sadly these are too much
enough blunt the simple mind
wanting all, demanding less
lest their state be then judged

conquest becomes the fashion
a prize to stalk and then to have
greatest thrill is the chase
anticipation of what comes next
until the quarry has been had
full in hand, revealing all
then the disgust arrives in full
a human being, not the dream

all of these evoke a rage
turned towards object that is craved
when contrary is called out
stating trickery has been found
or the crux is darker still
attempt to have the cake at hand?
power wants to have the tart
to eat the same while in command.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170713.
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