#121
Post rating: ~
#122
Post rating: ~

Impper posted:
ok i just sent her this

hello ariana reines,

my name is john christy and i recently read your poetry book coeur de lion, which inspired me to write some silly things about it which i posted to my obscure tumblr (http://autosodomy.tumblr.com/post/21333835485/a-terrifying-feminine-intellect). but that's not why i'm writing - i also posted the thing to a forum i frequent, the rhizzone, which is a play on the word rhizome. the people on the forum seem to have received the excerpts i posted from your work well - so much so that some of the forum's stranger or possibly more charismatic denizens believe you would 'fit in well' on the forum. the thread in question is here: http://www.rhizzone.net/forum/topic/1484/?page=1 i don't know why you would post here but once upon a time kate beaton posted on this forum as a result of a similar invitation, if that sort of thing would entice you.

thanks,

john


lol, she ever respond?

#123
Post rating: ~

aerdil posted:
well looks liek impper's email worked, she obviously just registered: http://www.rhizzone.net/forum/user/TROT_CUMLOVER/



finally, someone who speaks to my soul

#124
[account deactivated]
#125
lame
Post rating: +
posting int he poetry thread

ASGARD
Unemployment is a cudgel
to cow workers into accepting wage cuts,
making workers “competitive” by poverty.
That’s the “Free market” in action.
You go back to your bourgeois economists
with their smug little smirks
trying to figure how to skim a little bit more value
off the backs of the workers;
you go back and figure out
how to make the moribund monstrosity of capitalism
stagger along on stacks of corpses.
We’ll build the future,
we’ll build the better world.
In shimmering halls
the man-gods will look back
through elixir visions
at our struggle
and marvel at the barbarity
in their golden thrones.
They’ll feast on adequacy
filling bellies just enough
drifting between stars
awaiting the final battle;
the end of times.
After the heroes fall
and the villains pass into oblivion
the world will be born again,
not a spirit world, but a real one
and the distant memory of suffering
will kept alive in folk-stories.

#126
Not Your S.H.I.E.L.D.
Post rating: ~

(a poem about Faith)
I don't know how to do anytthing
I am trying to move mountains with words
But I am an ant
I scribble
I drool
I move like a worm
whose world
(words)
encompassed a mile
How do I rise above?
Where will this worm
find wings?
I look in the mirror
and I see filth
Who is that?
Where did The Angel go?
Why is there dirt
staring back at me?
Why is the soil of
incompetence beneath my nails
Why does doubt paint
blue rings
beneath my eyes and
stain my skin
Why does my spine assume failure
Why do my lips
flirt with they sky;
why do I try to lasso
Beauty with such a
pitiful rope?
Where is the hair of Rapunzel
or Samson?
Where is my sling
Where is my stone,
My gun?
Where is the weapon with which
I may fight this apathy
that feels like sleep
in my limbs
that loosens my brother's smile
That kills my neighbor's daughter
This pen is scrawny and hardly
seems able to ink out
or erase this plague that
infests my
Generation
This Giant, This Ogre
This Beast, This Death
that assumes a million faces,
that borrows my own.

#127
drivel of drunken hags
Post rating: ~
#128
Post rating: ~
http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2012/al-monitor/in-response-to-mona-eltahawys-ha.html

discipline did you read "why do they hate us?" what did you think?