#music for the dead and resurrected: poems

[haveyoureadthispoem-poll]

"I've always preferred Cain. His angry loneliness, his lack of mother's love, his Christian sarcasm: "Am I my brother's keeper?" asks his brother's murderer. Aren't we indeed the keepers of our dead?"

Read it here | Reblog for a larger sample size!

#closed polls #polls #poetry #poems #poetry polls #poets and writing #tumblr poetry #have you read this #i've always preferred cain #valzhyna mort #music for the dead and resurrected

[handbarfs]

// JRWI The Suckening spoilers

I have always preferred Cain. His angry loneliness, his lack of mother’s love, his Christian sarcasm, "Am I my brother’s keeper?” Asks his brother’s murderer. Aren’t we indeed The keepers of our dead?

poem is by Valzhyna Mort, from Music for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems; “Genesis”

#just roll with it #JRWI #jrwi the suckening #jrwi suckening #the suckening #jrwi show #jrwi fanart #just roll with it emizel #jrwi emizel #emizel tucker #shilo bathory #jrwi shilo #just roll with it show #just roll with it shilo #tora's art #handbarfs art #my art

[suugrbunz]

↪ The Garment - Louise Glück \ Human Acts - Han Kang \ Music for the Dead and Resurrected Poems ; Genesis Valazhyna Mort \ Unknown \

↪ all screencaps are from pinterest

#mota #masters of the air #john egan #౨ৎ webweave

[imasfnek]

A dead note

Maybe I could live again if you weren't always on my mind, a thought like a melody of which beauty goes beyond any other I've ever heard, yet its pain matches none either. You became the music of my days and nights, not leaving any room for my own thoughts or actions. Our nightingale stopped singing but your voice I can still hear, and it sounds like the sweetest symphony composed with inspiration so staggering nothing could ever be as astonishing again. Your song retells the same old story every time I listen to it, yet I'm thrilled by the plot and pained by the ending as equally as the first time you sang it to me. I love the sound of you in my ears but it feels like I'm trying to make a dead memory come back to life, like I'm trying to revive something that can't be saved anymore, letting it take all my strenght in hope to let it live even if I die. So, tell me, angel, for both our sakes; can you be resurrected?

The lovely @crowleys-bentley-and-plants helped me with some of the poem again, go check out her poetry!

#poetry #poets on tumblr #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #angst #ineffable divorce #neil gaiman #go2

[fluesterscherben]

Ideas/Headcanons about a Yiling Patriarch!Jiang Wanyin Roleswap AU

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan can't marry, because Jiang Yanli becomes Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang when her brother is persumed dead after the burning of Lotus Pier and can't marry out of the Sect. And the Jin won't let their one legitimate heir marry out, obviously.

Lan Shizhui is instead named Jiang Qiumeng ( roughly "dreams of autumm", a very embarassing name, more fit of a sword then a child, also from the same poem as "Wanyin") -> Wei Wuxian named him, obviously. He is very bad at naming children (and swords and animals and...).

Jiang Yanli lives and is Sect Leader of Lotus Pier.

Xuanyu had a sword that he named "Zhen" ("needle" -> because when he was at coi tower other disciples told him he should stick to needlework rather than swordplay, so he decided to be petty when he got a sword)

Jiang Wanyin's demonic cultivation was pretty much a demonic version of the sword path as compared to canon Wei Wuxian's focus on demonic musical cultivation. It has some similarities to the Nie's method, but his "sword spirits" need to murder humans rather than resentful creatures. He had his sword with him in the burrial mounds because his core was crushed when he was thrown in and Wen Chao thought it would be fun to give him a weapon he couldn't use just to ramp up his despair.

He called his undead suporters by actually calling rather than playing music. (Imagine him just standing in a field of corpses and yelling "Wake up, lazy bastards!")

He helps the Wen Remnants only because he remembers Wen Ning, who cleaned his wounds and forced him to eat during their journey from Lotus Pier to Yiling, all while muttering quiet apologies for his family's actions. When he runs into Wen Qing after the war he first fights her and intends to kill her, until she screams about Wen Ning being missing. Then he agrees to help her find him and chucks some medicine at her head while he stalks off to get them horses.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Ynali want to help the Wen Remnants too, but can't because of the Sect they have to run and their already precarious standing in polite society. If the other sects turn against them they don't stand a chance, even with the Yiling Patriarch on their side.

Yunmeng Jiang does not participate in planning the burial mound siege. They sent only one representative to the actual event: Wei Wuxian who is secretely tasked with damage control. But he is only one man - he can't save more than an old lady and a little boy. (Jiang Yuan grows up with a Granny, a Shibo, a Aunt Jiang and an A'Ling.)

After his resurrection Jiang Wanyin finds a dog skeleton by the side of the road. He revives it and names it "Huaguan" ("flowercrown").

The novel is not a romantic comedy, but solely a murder mystery/gothic horror-esque story.

No love story, only sibling and family feels.

During sunshot Lan Wangji tried very hard to help Jiang Wanyin return to orthodox cultivation because Wei Ying cared about the guy's health. Jiang Wanyin blew up at him for being a righteous prick.

#mdzs au #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #roleswap au #jiang wanyin #yiling patriarch!jiang wanyin #headcanons #ideas

[siterlas]

a while ago, i got tagged by @snickfic: list of songs i have been listening to lately

so here it is!

Marina Satti, "Tucutum" - Kinda been obsessed ever since I heard "Mantissa" and watched her KEXP set. Love the incorporation of Greek music and culture. The music video is also great.

Bob Crosby & the Bob Cats, "Dear Hearts and Gentle People" - Sorry that the Fallout games made me obsessed with this jukebox-ass music

The Ink Spots, "Your Feet's Too Big" - Like the previous song, I blame Fallout (affectionate). The Ink Spots are a comfort listen now, and this is the opening track on the album I like to listen to most.

Florence + the Machine, "Daffodil" - My favorite song to resurrect the dead to

Lhasa De Sala, "De Cara a la Pared"

Matt Berninger & Andrew Bird, "A Lyke Wake Dirge" - This is from 'Turn', the TV show about the American revolutionary war and incidentally one of my favorite shows. Thrilled the first time I heard it when I was like omg isn't that the poem from the neil gaiman Stardust book

Ibrahim Maalouf, "True Sorry - Duo Version" - I forget what made the Spotify go "if you like ___, you may like Arab jazz", but it was right, and then it turns out he was also the trumpet player on Lhasa De Sala's "Anywhere on this Road" (an anthem of the soul for me) and also related to Amin Maalouf, whose "The Crusades Through Arab Eyes" I've been wanting to read forever

Oscar Peterson, "You Go To My Head" - His 'Plays Pretty' album is a frequent work companion, and this is the opening track.

Emiliana Torrini, "Today Has Been OK" - mood.

Colter Wall, "Sleeping on the Blacktop" & "The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie" - i simply cannot choose

tagging (but only if you want to): @mr-iskender @unlivedtenderness @pistengsilahis @zorrosuchil @operafloozy @destronomics @foundynnel @amorgansgal & anyone else who wants to do this too i tag you

#music #dear diary

[kitchen-light]

Is there anything more beautiful than night in a Soviet microregion? Thousands of windows lighting up transforming concrete panel blocks into the hanging of laundry of light, mothers lean over the stones, night sky reflects the glow of electricity. I would like to walk through it as through a carpet market, moving the hanging carpets of apartment buildings with my hand. The air smells of mothers: their perfume, their hairspray. In their purses: lipstick, a loaf of bread, and a used public bus ticket. There is always a girl swinging on a creaking swing and cutting the air with her feet like a butcher's knife. Who is she? Isn't she mad from that creaking? Does her swinging wind the clocks in every apartment?

Valzyhna Mort, from her prose-poem, “Self Portrait with the Palace of the Republic”, from “Music for the Dead and Resurrected”, Bloomsbury Poetry, 2022

#valzhyna mort #quotes #poetry #words #found* #space #history

[mindrottinglystupid]

Hello Hello!!

This is my “say what I think and look back in a few years and cringe” blog, but also where I post (subjectively terrible) things that I write about nothing in particular. I’m a minor btw (age range: 14-16)

HUGE fan of Good Omens and Gravity Falls.

spotify (for whatever reason)

I have almost every health condition known to man so my posting WILL be sporadic and quality will vary. I will also dedicate a part of this blog to my journey through my health issues and sharing the resources I find to try and help other disabled individuals. If anyone has questions I am 100% open to answer them all :)

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The Power of Minestrone Soup (4297 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 3/14 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: LGBTQ Character, Resurrection, Magical thermos, Spanning multiple years, No Sex, No Smut, LGBTQ Themes, Car Accidents, New York, New York City, Attempt at Humor, Humor, This isn't a childrens book i swear, Abusive Father, Dead Father - Freeform, No Incest, Original Fiction, Magical Realism, POV of God, Original Universe, Gay Character, Gardens & Gardening, Minichapters, Painting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Gay Male Character, Gay Pride, Everyone Has Issues, mini chapters, Ireland, Learning how to paint, Ducks, A lot of ducks, Angst, Gay main couple, Birds, painting birds, Hospital Visit, Main character ends up in the Hospital, Feel-good, In a way, Trans, Trans Female Character, Trans Character, Writers, Drag Queens, Gay Bar, lots of gay, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Is Alive, Maybe - Freeform, Everyone is Queer, Queer Themes, Queer Character, Queer Youth, Queer Families, Queer Friendly, Angst and Feels, Cussing, Homophobic Language, only a scene or two, cursing Summary:

Michael Jones, a Computer Specialist at the Undisclosed Corporate Company, works every day from 5:30 to 6:30, respectively. Nothing different ever happens to Michael until he dies in a car crash on his way to work. This doesn’t last, as he wakes up clueless about the last 15 hours, holding his baby blue thermos filled with Minestrone Soup. He now has to work through the rest of his life trying to figure out why he is so attached to the thermos, who exactly he was before, and if that person is worth being.

For You (431 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Love, Love Poems, Destruction, Self-Sacrifice, Long poetry, seriously this might not be considered poetry at this point Summary: I turned on music, zoned out, and wrote. This is what came of it.

The Girl in the Woods (626 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Fiction - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Apple & Meitene Additional Tags: Own work of fiction, Adoptive Daughter, Short Story, 1800's, living off the land, Gardening, taking care of animals, sfw, No Smut, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Family Fluff, No Drama, Quick Read Summary: A short story I wrote a while back about an Old woman and her adoptive daughter. Set back in the 1800's (roughly).

What They Created (732 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Dystopia, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Short Story, Possibly more chapters, Dystopia, Own Work of Dystopia - Freeform, No Smut, No Sex, POV First Person Summary: I cannot think outside of the box. I do not have free will. If I do, They will find out. 3 strikes, and then I'm gone.

All of my Poetry (2461 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 33/33 Fandom: Poetry - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Bad Poetry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Sad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Recovery, Rhyming, Originally Posted on Tumblr, poems by chapter, POV Alternating, Emotions, Poetic Summary: This is all of the Poetry I've written (also posted on Tumblr) in one place! I'll put each poem in a different chapter. I might post them separately, but right now, this is the easiest.

The Unlucky Humphrey's (1104 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Original Work, Childrens Story - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Children, Children story, Funny short story, Short Story, Boarding School, Summer, Start of School, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Comedy, idk how to use tags, I'm not good at summarys Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey had a very long Summer trying to control their son Sam. Summer's almost over, but how on earth are they going to get through it? This is a VERY short story about two tired parents and a boy who has too much energy for his own good. (I'm not good at Summary's)

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I’m Demisexual/Abrosexual and my gender basically changes depending on the humidity. I’m autistic with horrible anxiety and a crippling fear of crane flies. That’s all you need to know.

And if you like anything I post reblogs help TONS more than likes!!

more abt me below the cut

Other interests:

-Space (specifically astronomy but also aerospace engineering)

-Biology and Environmental Science

-Chemistry (when it comes to space)

-Writing essays on literally anything

-Cinematography

-Knitting really colorful things only

Sexual Orientation Explanation:

Demisexual means that I only ever feel attracted to someone if I get to know them well enough as friends first. Abrosexual means that I might identify as a Lesbian one second and the next i might identify as Bi. My gender changing depending on the humidity is something a witch cursed me with at birth because my mom said she didn’t like her haircut but that pretty much sums up to I’m genderfluid 🤷‍♀️

#about myself #ao3 writer #ao3 link #archive of our own #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[manwalksintobar]

First Elegy: Rotten Lake // Muriel Rukeyser

As I went down to Rotten Lake I remembered the wrecked season, haunted by plans of salvage, snow, the closed door, footsteps and resurrections, machinery of sorrow.

The warm grass gave to the feet and the stilltide water was floor of evening and magnetic light and reflection of wish, the black-haired beast with my eyes walking beside me.

The green and yellow lights, the street of water standing point to the image of that house whose destruction I weep when I weep you. My door (no), poems, rest, (don’t say it!) untamable need.

*

When you have left the river you are a little way nearer the lake; but I leave many times. Parents parried my past;the present was poverty, the future depended on my unfinished spirit. There were no misgivings because there was no choice, only regret for waste, and the wild knowledge: growth and sorrow and discovery.

When you have left the river you proceed alone; all love is likely to be illicit; and few friends to command the soul;they are too feeble. Rejecting the subtle and contemplative minds as being too thin in the bone;and the gross thighs and unevocative hands fail also. But the poet and his wife, those who say Survive, remain; and those two who were with me on the ship leading me to the sum of the years, in Spain.

When you have left the river you will hear the war. In the mountains, with tourists, in the insanest groves the sound of kill, the precious face of peace. And the sad frightened child, continual minor, returns, nearer whole circle, O and nearer all that was loved, the lake, the naked river, what must be crossed and cut out of your heart, what must be stood beside and straightly seen.

*

As I went down to Rotten Lake I remembered how the one crime is need. The man lifting the loaf with hunger as motive can offer no alibi, is always condemned.

These are the lines at the employment bureau and the tense students at their examinations; needing makes clumsy and robs them of their wish, in one fast gesture

plants on them failure of the imagination; and lovers who lower their bodies into the chair gently and sternly as if the flesh had been wounded, never can conquer.

Their need is too great, their vulnerable bodies rigidly joined will snap, turn love away, fear parts them, they lose their hands and voices, never get used to the world.

Walking at night, they are asked Are you your best friend’s best friend? and must say No, not yet, they are love’s vulnerable, and they go down to Rotten Lake hoping for wonders.

Dare it arrive, the day when weakness ends? When the insistence is strong, the wish converted? I prophesy the meeting by the water of these desires.

I know what this is, I have known the waking when every night ended in one cliff-dream of faces drowned beneath the porous rock brushed by the sea;

suffered the change : deprived erotic dreams to images of that small house where peace walked room to room and always with one face telling her stories,

and needed that, past loss, past fever, and the attractive enemy who in my bed touches all night the body of my sleep, improves my summer

with madness, impossible loss, and the dead music of altered promise, a room torn up by the roots, the desert that crosses from the door to the wall, continual bleeding,

and all the time that will which cancels enmity, seeks its own Easter, arrives at the water-barrier; must face it now, biting the lakeside ground; looks for its double,

the twin that must be met again, changeling need, blazing in color somewhere, flying yellow into the forest with its lucid edict: take to the world,

this is the honor of your flesh, the offering of strangers, the faces of cities, honor of all your wish. I say in my own voice. These prophecies may all come true,

out of the beaten season. I look in Rotten Lake wait for the flame reflection, seeing only the free beast flickering black along my side animal of my need,

and cry I want! I want! rising among the world to gain my converted wish, the amazing desire that keeps me alive, though the face be still, be still, the slow dilated heart know nothing but lack, now I begin again the private rising, the ride to survival of that consuming bird beating, up from dead lakes, ascents of fire.

(from A Turning Wind, 1939)

#poetry #Muriel Rukeyser #American poetry #1939 #fire #America #on fire #survival #politics #war #want #madness #loss #desire

[dfroza]

A link to Apple Music with the 6th track on the 2021 album When We Leave by Mathias Eick

Playing

there is playing for us a universal symphony (the stars are a testament speaking) that points to the promised healing of all things

just as a [metamorphosis] of body for those already passed (in faith) and the beautiful mystery of (A secret elopement) and transformation of body for some who are yet alive and waiting (prepared in faith by the Spirit in True illumination as Body and Bride)

A set of ancient lines:

For the worship leader. A song of David.

The celestial realms announce God’s glory;

the skies testify of His hands’ great work.

Each day pours out more of their sayings;

each night, more to hear and more to learn.

Inaudible words are their manner of speech,

and silence, their means to convey.

Yet from here to the ends of the earth, their voices have gone out;

the whole world can hear what they say.

God stretched out in these heavens a tent for the sun,

And the sun is like a groom

who, after leaving his room, arrives at the wedding in splendor.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 19:1-5 (The Voice)

And these:

Now I know what some of you are thinking: “Just how are the dead going to be raised? What kind of bodies will they have when they come back to life?” Don’t be a fool! The seed you plant doesn’t produce life unless it dies. Right? The seed doesn’t have the same look, the same body, if you will, of what it will have once it starts to grow. It starts out a single, naked seed—whether wheat or some other grain, it doesn’t matter— and God gives to that seed a body just as He has desired. For each of the different kinds of seeds God prepares a unique body. Or look at it this way: not all flesh is the same. Right? There is skin flesh on humans, furry flesh on animals, feathery flesh on birds, and scaly flesh on fish. Likewise there are bodies made for the heavens and bodies made for the earth. The heavenly bodies have a different kind of glory or luminescence compared to bodies below. Even among the heavenly bodies, there is a different level of brilliance: the sun shines differently than the moon, the moon differently than the stars, and the stars themselves differ in their brightness.

It’s like this with the resurrection of those who have died. The body planted in the earth decays. But the body raised from the earth cannot decay. The body is planted in disgrace and weakness. But the body is raised in splendor and power. The body planted in the earth was animated by the physical, material realm. But the body raised from the earth will be animated by the spiritual. Since there is a physical, material body, there will also be a spiritual body. That’s why it was written, “The first man Adam became a living soul”; the last Adam has become a life-giving spirit. Everything has an order. The body is not animated first by the spiritual but the physical; then the spiritual becomes its life-giving source. The first man, Adam, came from the earth and was made from dust; the second man, Jesus, has come from heaven. The earth man shares his earth nature with all those made of earth; likewise the heavenly man shares His heavenly nature with all those made of heaven. Just as we have carried the image of the earth man in our bodies, we will also carry the image of the heavenly man in our new bodies at the resurrection.

Now listen to this: brothers and sisters, this present body is not able to inherit the kingdom of God any more than decay can inherit that which lasts forever. Stay close because I am going to tell you a mystery—something you may have trouble understanding: we will not all fall asleep in death, but we will all be transformed. It will all happen so fast, in a blink, a mere flutter of the eye. The last trumpet will call, and the dead will be raised from their graves with a body that does not, cannot decay. All of us will be changed! We’ll step out of our mortal clothes and slide into immortal bodies, replacing everything that is subject to death with eternal life. And, when we are all redressed with bodies that do not, cannot decay, when we put immortality over our mortal frames, then it will be as Scripture says:

Life everlasting has victoriously swallowed death.

Hey, Death! What happened to your big win?

Hey, Death! What happened to your sting?

Sin came into this world, and death’s sting followed. Then sin took aim at the law and gained power over those who follow the law. Thank God, then, for our Lord Jesus, the Anointed, the Liberating King, who brought us victory over the grave.

My dear brothers and sisters, stay firmly planted—be unshakable—do many good works in the name of God, and know that all your labor is not for nothing when it is for God.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 15:35-58 (The Voice)

As a trumpet (shofar) “calling” with an angelic voice:

Now, brothers, we want you to know the truth about those who have died; otherwise, you might become sad the way other people do who have nothing to hope for. For since we believe that Yeshua died and rose again, we also believe that in the same way God, through Yeshua, will take with him those who have died. When we say this, we base it on the Lord’s own word: we who remain alive when the Lord comes will certainly not take precedence over those who have died. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a rousing cry, with a call from one of the ruling angels, and with God’s shofar; those who died united with the Messiah will be the first to rise; then we who are left still alive will be caught up with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air; and thus we will always be with the Lord. So encourage each other with these words.

The Letter of 1st Thessalonians, Chapter 4:13-18 (Complete Jewish Bible)

there is so much work and “labor” in the writing of a “seed”

(to be…)

Are you willing to read?

[theoptia]

Valzhyna Mort, from Music for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems; “Genesis”

Text ID: I’ve always preferred Cain. / His angry / loneliness, his / lack of mother’s / love, his Christian / sarcasm: “Am I / my brother’s keeper?” / asks his brother’s murderer. / Aren’t we indeed / the keepers of our dead?

#valzhyna mort #music for the dead and resurrected: poems #poetry #belarusian literature #lit #miscellanea

[sandushengshou]

Valzhyna Mort, from Music for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems; “Genesis” 

#theuntamededit #theuntameddaily #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed #twin heroes of yunmeng #* #making myself sad as always! #but he is my fav!!! #he is my fav so i love making sad edits for him

[winchesterwhorehouse]

"We had brothers who loved each other no matter what they did. And they did plenty"

Sophocles // Music for the Dead and Resurrected // The Hellbound Heart // Killing Flies, Michael Dickman // The Burial at Thebes // James Wright, New Poems

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #spnedit #the longer i look at it the uglier it gets #lauren's

[filmnoirsbian]

Could you make a masterpost of all your tags please? 🥺

I’m not going to include any of the self explanatory tags (i.e. “poetry,” “cats,” “places,” etc). If I don’t attribute the quote to anyone that’s because I made it up.

Media tags:

Radio Killers - tv tag, from “Video Killed the Radio Star” by The Buggles

An Eye in the Head of A Poet - film tag, from “A film is never really good unless the camera is an eye in the head of a poet,” as said by Orson Welles

To Evoke - art tag, from “The principle of true art is not to portray, but to evoke,” as said by Jerzy Kosinski

The Universal Language - music tag, from “Music is the universal language of mankind,” as said by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

An Open Window - book tag, from “Books open windows to the world and have the power to transform lives,” as said by Ralph Lauren

Oh the Things We Invent - superhero tag, from “I Had A Dream About You” by Richard Siken

Horror is A Love Letter to Humanity - horror tag

In the Beginning - mythology tag

Book Recs

Film Recs

Watchlist - things I want to watch

Readlist - things I want to read

General/Misc tags:

A Terrifying Clamour of Trumpets - angel tag, from “Resurrection” by Vladimir Holan

Faith - religion tag

The World Only Spins Forward - lgbt tag, from “We won’t die secret deaths anymore. The world only spins forward. We will be citizens. The time has come. Bye now. You are fabulous creatures, each and every one. And I bless you: More Life. The Great Work Begins.” as said in Angels in America

The Vast Expanse - space tag

Treadn’t - politics tag, from a meme making fun of the Don’t Tread On Me flag

Monsters Are the Patron Saints of Our Blissful Imperfections - monster tag, as said by Guillermo Del Toro

You Must Forgive the Monster Woman - monster women tag, from my poem “Gainesville”

Ppl are amazing - positivity tag filled with people doing cool and nice things

Everything is Connected and the Web is Holy - connection tag; how we all fit together in the universe, from “Everything is interwoven and the web is holy; none of its parts are unconnected. They are composed harmoniously, and together they compose the world. One world, made up of all things.” as said by Marcus Aurelius

Love is the Foundation - love tag 01

Love Stories - love tag 02

Love Letters - love tag 03

Love is Stored in the Kitchen - tag devoted to kitchens

Appetites - food tag

Joy in the Task of Coffee - coffee tag, from "A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked." as said by Anaïs Nin

Hexagon - bee tag

There is A Thaw - recovery/healing tag, from “Many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. And it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, “What do I care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.” Yes, evil often seems to surpass good. But then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.” as said by Vincent van Gogh

Love After Death - love continues even after we’re gone

Hauntings - ghost stories

Toil - fashion tag, from the Gaeilge word for “wish”

Fair - makeup and accessories tag, from the Gaeilge word for “cover”

Tags related to my writing:

The Machine Woman Collective - tag dedicated to my thesis on the machine woman archetype in science fiction 

Eerie - tag for my americana horror/northeast gothic story

Where the Tooth Aches - vampire/fangs tag

Does It Howl Inside? - werewolf tag, from "Become the Beast" by Karliene

Troubled Gifts - suburban fantasy creature feature 

Moment’s Silence - western/cowboy story, from “Moment’s Silence” by Hozier

Misery’s Wife - green post apocalypse/rewilding and reclamation of nature story

Dead Letters - zombie apocalypse/medicinal plant guide story

Dreams and Other Machinations - horror short story collection based on various dreams

Arsons Anonymous - fire tag

Yes This Love is A Poison to Us Both But We Keep Putting It Into Each Other’s Mouths - toxic love / love as mutual destruction 01

Love As the Cause of Death - love as destruction / sacrificial love

To Sit in Hell With Our Lovers - toxic love / love as mutual destruction 02

A Kiss As A Scar - toxic love 03 / love as pain

Red Berries - toxic love story collection

Consumption As An Act of Love - the love of the wolf etc etc

The Changeling Effect - you look into the mirror but who looks back?

This Haunting is Anatomical - body horror/trauma 01, from my poem “Why Are You Haunted? A Survey”

The Body As An Act of War - body horror/trauma 02

The Body As A Graveyard - body horror/trauma 03

Hungry Dogs - childhood trauma manifested as physical monsters 

This Haunting is A Hungry Dog - trauma 

This Haunting is Hereditary - inherited trauma/abuse/mental illness 

This Haunting is Architectural - haunted houses 01

The House As A Body - haunted houses 02

The Deer is Not A Deer - not-deer, an appalachian folk tale / the inherent creepiness of deer in the night

Young Gods - collection of myth retellings, from “Young God” by Halsey

Mothers and Daughters - some people aren’t meant to be daughters and some aren’t meant to be mothers etc etc 

The Elektra Complex - tag for my retelling of Electra

All the Angels & Saints - angels and saints in the modern world

Neverside - high fantasy novel about Irish mythology set against the backdrop of the Irish civil war

Letters From the End of the World - collection on love and connection across space and time

Born the Victim of A Name - from "Black Dresses" by The Builders and the Butchers, other people’s posts about/with my writing

My Writing - posted works/questions about my writing

My Books - my published books

#i think i got all the main ones. if i remember any i might add them #this is the only masterpost yall are getting btw this shit took forever #im too wordy 😔 #asks #my tags #long post

[recapitulation]

[text id: "From too much hope of living, / From hope and fear set free, / We thank with brief thanksgiving / Whatever gods may be / That no life lives for ever; / That dead men rise up never; / That even the weariest river / Winds somewhere safe to sea." /end id]

[id: five bars of a 1st and 2nd horn part. The part is marked pianissimo and is labelled "Eternity motif" and later "Ascension motif." The part is lyrical, every note is marked tenuto, and features triplets that end in a tied whole note. /end id]

[text id: "Maybe when we die, the first thing we'll say is, "I know this feeling. I was here before." /end id]

[id: text that reads, "The work starts out with a quiet pulsing in the strings and timpani, its irregularity representing the slowly failing heartbeat and the throbbing of the all-encompassing fever." Directly below that, a second violin part and viola part are shown marked "largo," pianissimo, and "con sordini," showing a kind of lopsided triplet rhythm. /end id]

[text id: “There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, “sketch” is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the ground-work for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture. Einmal ist keinmal, says Tomas to himself. What happens but once, says the German adage, might as well not have happened at all. If we have only one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all.” /end id]

Some of my favorite discussions & depictions of death in music and literature

1. "The Garden of Prosperpine" by Charles Algernon Swinburne // 2. Mahler Symphony #2, "Resurrection Symphony" // 3. Don DeLillo, White Noise // 4. Richard Strauss' Tone Poem "Death and Transfiguration" // 5. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

#the mahler 9 heartbeat and the mahler 2 death shriek are in here in spirit but i didn't want to web weave and go whoops! all mahler! #anyway i really hope the kundera fits in here it was hard to find an excerpt that really encapsulated the whole eternal return discussion #death #eternal recurrance #web weaving #lexi speaks #i'm so sad that the kundera sounds so depressing out of context alsdkfjasdf i find the discussion really uplifting #you only live once! thank god!

[fatehbaz]

This version of the Necrocene does not so much partake of the apocalypticism [...] but rather puts the focus on feminist, trans [...] interventions that redirect Anthropocene extremities of deep past and ostensibly still-remote futures to the present pressures of thinking and feeling with the turbulent unpredictabilities of mixed affects and entangled agencies, with the enwrapping of the wildly incommensurate, and the ruptures of [...] demands for reparation and revolution on the part of those entities, those forms of life, bare life, and not-life, and ways of being and becoming for whom the ostensibly privileges of the status of the human have never constituted refuge, those for whom the imperatives to sustain and reproduce life have, rather, been the terms of slow death, and those whose very form or lack of privileged form is rendered unlivable, killable, and not even registered as loss, as grievable losses or deaths that count. Necrocene puts pressure on the burning questions: What makes diverse forms of earthly trauma matter? What connects forms of earthly, planetary trauma held apart? [...]

[T]he founding paternal gestures of dispossession and possession take the form of scenes of displacement, of making diasporic in scenes of scattering seed:

“With the materializing metaphor of planting scattered seed, that is, the practices of agriculture and landscaping [...], to plant was  to produce colonies and to generate subjects to sustain them.” However, such ostensibly founding scenes [...] as devices of biopower and necropower set the stage for other possibilities [...].

Take the migratory declaration carved into the wooden sign at the entrance to the Transgender Memorial Garden in St. Louis, Missouri, planted by members of the Metro Trans Umbrella Group and dedicated October 18, 2015, to those lives lost worldwide to anti-trans violence:

“They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.”

This digital dia-spor moves across hand-carved signs, T-shirts for the Transgender Day of Rememberance, painted signs [...], and posters carried at marches in Mexico City in the name of Ayotzinapa (shorthand for the forty-three students from the Ayotzinapa Normal School near Tixtla, Guerrero who were disappeared after their bus was attacked by municipal police and other armed men while en route to demonstrations in Mexico City).

The activist meme (popularized by the Zapatistas in the 1990s in its Spanish form “Quisieron enterrarnos, pero no sabian que eramos semilla”) was adapted from a two-line poem in which Dinos Christianopoulos -- a Greek writer of homoerotic verse with the outlaw blues quality and seediness of the “rembetiko” or “rebetiko” of underground music -- adapts the ancient story of Cadmus who sowed an army of warriors from the magical seeds of dragon’s teeth to mine the [...] classical myth to raise an army of the dead against the heterosexism of claims to the natural: “What didn’t you do to bury me, but you forgot that I was a seed.”

The planting of a version of these words on the site of the Transgender Memorial Garden in St. Louis, Missouri, carries a particular charge due to its proximity to Ferguson where the protests surrounding the police murder of Michael Brown in 2014 were pivotal in galvanizing what has become the Black L!ves M@tter movement as, while 2016 was the deadliest year on record for trans people (with 2017 set to exceed it), most murdered trans people are women of color.

The promiscuous popularity of this clarion call of the discarded and buried that turn out to be seeds risks erasing important differences with blanket generalizations that we are all mortal while foreclosing any reckoning with loss as loss by covering over the space of loss with signs of life that bear the promise of resurgence and resurrection.

At the same time, however, rather than a covering over of pain and loss or the segregation of loss into not just discrete and marginalized but also uncounted losses, the landscape of the discarded and buried as unanticipated seed renders the Necrocene not as inert past or a foreclosed future but a roiling compost of a present which is mined not just by the military-pharmaco-agro-industrial complex but also by the discarded, discounted, and buried of stigmatic, agitating difference that refuses assimilation [...].

-------

Jill H. Casid. “Necrolandscaping: Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Plantationocene, Necrocene.” In: Natura: Environmental Aesthetics after Landscape. 2018.