Aposiopesis

I write bad poetry and leave it in treetops.

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Aposiopesis

Aww, thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :D

2 comments


Miss Portinari

I just read your poem in the Lotha Harte page of the Encyclopedia... it's beautiful, thank you for sharing it with everyone :)

2 comments


Miss Portinari Miss Portinari added Aposiopesis as a friend! (it's mutual)
a long time ago
Gwynne Gwynne added Aposiopesis as a friend! (it's mutual)
a long time ago

Notes

An Ode to Ur and Glitchen
The lands of Ur, they never were,
And yet we knew them well.
With steady beat, our many feet
Touched cloud, touched grass, touched Hell.

The firebog fen of Oulanka End,
The greengrown Groddle groves,
The towering trees of Adspice Lacrimis,
Samudra's shimmering coves.

With kindly hand, beasts of the land
Were petted, milked, and squeezed
No blood was spilled, no life was killed,
And all were equal pleased.

We sought to build, to grow more skilled,
We planted, cooked, dug mines.
Some goods we made we sought to trade,
And surrendered some to shrines.

But Ur now stands as Ancestral Lands --
Our time in it is brief
No hidden coin could now enjoin
More favor, more relief.

It grows in power each passing hour,
Our souls grow overwhelmed
By love and loss; our eyes are glossed
With tears for fading realms.

The lands of Ur, they never were,
But they shall never fade --
Here we sought Imagination;
Here we were all of it made.
An Ode to Ur and Glitchen
The lands of Ur, they never were,
And yet we knew them well.
With steady beat, our many feet
Touched cloud, touched grass, touched Hell.

The firebog fen of Oulanka End,
The greengrown Groddle groves,
The towering trees of Adspice Lacrimis,
Samudra's shimmering coves.

With kindly hand, beasts of the land
Were petted, milked, and squeezed
No blood was spilled, no life was killed,
And all were equal pleased.

We sought to build, to grow more skilled,
We planted, cooked, dug mines.
Some goods we made we sought to trade,
And surrendered some to shrines.

But Ur now stands as Ancestral Lands --
Our time in it is brief
No hidden coin could now enjoin
More favor, more relief.

It grows in power each passing hour,
Our souls grow overwhelmed
By love and loss; our eyes are glossed
With tears for fading realms.

The lands of Ur, they never were,
But they shall never fade --
Here we sought Imagination;
Here we were all of it made.
An Ode to Ur and Glitchen
The lands of Ur, they never were,
And yet we knew them well.
With steady beat, our many feet
Touched cloud, touched grass, touched Hell.

The firebog fen of Oulanka End,
The greengrown Groddle groves,
The towering trees of Adspice Lacrimis,
Samudra's shimmering coves.

With kindly hand, beasts of the land
Were petted, milked, and squeezed
No blood was spilled, no life was killed,
And all were equal pleased.

We sought to build, to grow more skilled,
We planted, cooked, dug mines.
Some goods we made we sought to trade,
And surrendered some to shrines.

But Ur now stands as Ancestral Lands --
Our time in it is brief
No hidden coin could now enjoin
More favor, more relief.

It grows in power each passing hour,
Our souls grow overwhelmed
By love and loss; our eyes are glossed
With tears for fading realms.

The lands of Ur, they never were,
But they shall never fade --
Here we sought Imagination;
Here we were all of it made.
Rumi - This We Have Now
This We Have Now

This we have now
is not imagination.

This is not
grief or joy.

Not a judging state,
or an elation,
or sadness.

Those come and go.

This is the presence
that doesn't.

-attributed to Rumi
An Ode to Ur and Glitchen
The lands of Ur, they never were, And yet we knew them well. With steady beat, our many feet Touched cloud, touched grass, touched Hell. The firebog fen of Oulanka End, The greengrown Groddle groves, The towering trees of Adspice Lacrimis, Samudra's shimmering coves. With kindly hand, beasts of the land Were petted, milked, and squeezed No blood was spilled, no life was killed, And all were equal pleased. We sought to build, to grow more skilled, We planted, cooked, dug mines. Some goods we made we sought to trade, And surrendered some to shrines. But Ur now stands as Ancestral Lands -- Our time in it is brief No hidden coin could now enjoin More favor, more relief. It grows in power each passing hour, Our souls grow overwhelmed By love and loss; our eyes are glossed With tears for fading realms. The lands of Ur, they never were, But they shall never fade -- Here we sought Imagination; Here we were all of it made.
An Ode to Ur and Glitchen
The lands of Ur, they never were, And yet we knew them well. With steady beat, our many feet Touched cloud, touched grass, touched Hell. The firebog fen of Oulanka End, The greengrown Groddle groves, The towering trees of Adspice Lacrimis, Samudra's shimmering coves. With kindly hand, beasts of the land Were petted, milked, and squeezed No blood was spilled, no life was killed, And all were equal pleased. We sought to build, to grow more skilled, We planted, cooked, dug mines. Some goods we made we sought to trade, And surrendered some to shrines. But Ur now stands as Ancestral Lands -- Our time in it is brief No hidden coin could now enjoin More favor, more relief. It grows in power each passing hour, Our souls grow overwhelmed By love and loss; our eyes are glossed With tears for fading realms. The lands of Ur, they never were, But they shall never fade -- Here we sought Imagination; Here we were all of it made.