Well the world has certainly sucked less for me this week thanks to your fantastic fic recs over at het_reccers. I've been reading a new one each day and they've been rocking my world. Thanks for all the time and care you put into that list.
Now, for the entertainment. Two poems. First, One Heart by Li-Young Lee
Look at the birds. Even flying is born
out of nothing. The first sky is inside you, open
at either end of day. The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening one heart to every falling thing.
This second one is by Joy Harjo. It's called The War Zone
Yesterday in the flare of smoke and temper- we were brilliant warriors weary from battling each other- the illuminations of family ghosts bright red in the storm.
The century is swept toward an inevitable end- as summer trees sway beneath thunderclouds, the wind flattening our faces- Our teeth make refuge for our tongues, skins pulled tight in the vertigo of fear under unbearable pressure.
For a second, I couldn't remember what you meant, and then I remembered my shipper manifesto! I'm thrilled to know that it's of use to people--there really are quite a lot of lovely stories on that list, aren't there? I'm very pleased you're enjoying them!
POETRY. Poetry feeds my soul, and these are beautiful and ones I haven't read before. Thank you so very much for sharing them.
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Now, for the entertainment. Two poems. First, One Heart by Li-Young Lee
Look at the birds. Even flying
is born
out of nothing. The first sky
is inside you, open
at either end of day.
The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening
one heart to every falling thing.
This second one is by Joy Harjo. It's called The War Zone
Yesterday in the flare of smoke and temper-
we were brilliant warriors weary
from battling each other-
the illuminations of family ghosts
bright red in the storm.
The century is swept toward an inevitable end-
as summer trees sway beneath thunderclouds,
the wind flattening our faces-
Our teeth make refuge for our tongues,
skins pulled tight in the vertigo of fear
under unbearable
pressure.
We go on.
no subject
POETRY. Poetry feeds my soul, and these are beautiful and ones I haven't read before. Thank you so very much for sharing them.