From c00ae4e38b44247b50d4ba36366323b3d2bba978 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Radiohotline Date: Mon, 16 Feb 2026 17:41:55 +0000 Subject: major site redesign --- old/poetry.html | 196 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 196 insertions(+) create mode 100644 old/poetry.html (limited to 'old/poetry.html') diff --git a/old/poetry.html b/old/poetry.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5065cf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/poetry.html @@ -0,0 +1,196 @@ + + + + + + + + + + Poetry + + + + +

Poetry

+

This page is for poetry not written as a part of Muse Ariadne (see muse).

+
+
+
+

a state only the texture of a painting could capture

+

hazy memory and clouded emotion
+ blurred vision and blurred sense of self +

+

disconnected

+

disorganized

+

dissociated

+

+ my circadian rhythm is the opposite of yours
+ ritualistic patterns i fail to comply with

+ when i can't sleep but can't wake up either,
+ i indulge in misplaced fantasy
+ and in the failed attempt to recollect fragmented ideas
+ that scurry away like squirrels +

+

+ "what is your bona fides?"
+ "was your breakfast fried eggs with toast?"
+ "would you throw up at the sight of intestines strung out like a necklace?" +

+

+ communication with myself is beyond esoteric
+ communication with others is incompetent and impulsive
+ communication through music is chaotic and raw
+ communication through art is insufficient +

+

+ like reading a note that your brain left for you
+ that is smudged beyond legibility +

+

+ i am not in my childhood photos
+ i am not in my mind
+ i am not in mirrors
+ i may be in others
+ mismatched, misbound, mistranslated +

+

+ it will rain down again, after all, + shimmering like sequin, slipping away like falling pages +

+ "hello, can we talk?" +

+

Feburary 2022

+
+ +
+

of an exchange between two on a rainy night

+

+ Throw away your soggy cigarette and ask me about my day.
+ Take a seat and smear with your finger the fuzz
+ of the meniscus of cold broth in a bowl. +

+

+ Magnetise your bi-polar heart and show me where it points.
+ Guide me to the sea and explain
+ what you'll first fend off against:
+ the salt or the seaweed. +

+

+ Where would you go
+ if you were to leave a trail of footsteps in the snow,
+ and weren't sure whether you'd come back the same or different? +

+

+ I want to dissect your mind and study your thoughts.
+ I will determine whether your spirit is as fragile as
+ a rose in vitro,
+ as a naïve heart,
+ as the truth,
+ or if it is as sturdy as
+ history,
+ as a violin string,
+ as glass— +

+

Feburary 2022

+
+ +
+

Once more

+

+ Once more, you came knocking on my door.
+ An even and predictable knock it was.
+ Every fortnight, more or less, you come.
+ A joy you instill that's worthy of applause. +

+

+ But you leave. +

+

+ Flowing animus, will thou aid me?
+ From me, embrace of hers slipped away again:
+ merciless, ruthless, rather graceful
+ departure. Love knows not of me — not of men. +

+

+ But what if? +

+

+ O episteme, will thou aid me?
+ Of no need is love that aches. Rationale knows.
+ In darkness, the wandering mind dies.
+ Only minds can fill other minds. Dispose! +

+

+ Veracity. +

+

+ What is virtuous in a patience that yields no fruit?
+ Perhaps, honour is in the heart of the resolute,
+ for only they have endured self-torture for an oath.
+ "The light of my life is worth more than my hurt," they quoth. +

+

+ Once more, I came knocking at your door. +

+

January 2023

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+ +
+

Untitled

+

Walls pressing my skin
+ Water rising in my throat
+ Then the room expands +

+

May 2025 - prompt: "space"

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+ +
+ A gif of a snail going in a circle +
+ + -- cgit v1.3