Fun fact, these trees are still being turned into historic viking warships at Roskilde. If you are ever in the area pay them a visit, amazing museum 10/10!
who do you mean with pagans? It's an exonym so do you mean everyone who is not a christian? Because that is an easy bar to pas, since history has been long and religions have been many. Did you have a specific culture in mind?
Edit: The point I wanted to get to, is that if we start looking around at historical cultural/religious practices around the world, it won't take you long to find pretty questionable practices (from a contemporary humanist perspective) including all of the things you mentioned both in and outside of Christianity
Edit: You know what, you probably already know all of this, I guess the word pagans just tripped me up. Have a good night haha.
The average physics lab at uni.
If you don't know about her yet, read a little bit about her life. It's facinating! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_de_Pizan
I don't have much to add, but I found your comment funny, lyrical and also a little moving :)
I reread it and I changed the penultimate line to include the specter. I thope that the added information will help readers solve the meaning of the bold lines, since the main POV is being asphyxiated and the other, unclear part/POV/subject is doing the strangling. But you would have to read it twice to get it.
I also removed some of periods to make the last section feel more stressful.
Lastly I removed the period from the first line to let it blend into the first stanza, indicating that the main POV and the specter are actually the same.
At the back of your mind
there is a specter.
Always stalking,
always talking.
Whispers of truths,
fires, famine, fear
too terrible to hear.
If I linger to listen,
It's spell will find me,
it's fear will bind me.
You see me everywhere.
It looms
in the rising spire,
over the forest fire.
It leers
from the dry riverbed,
where fish lie dead.
I'm getting closer now...
I'm pacing
heart racing.
All the distress
I can't express!
All the headlines
missed deadlines
records reached
tipping points breached.
And then, I strangle you!
the guilt
asphyxiating me
the specter
asphyxiating me.
yeah I bet that you tried haha. I will admit that I didn't try to find a better alternative. And at least you are god in this instance, so maybe the emphasis is not so bad.
Oh btw, the bold lines were supposed to be the specter.
Thanks for the feedback. I felt so bad after writing it. I considered not publishing it because I don't want to make other people feel hopeless so I'm glad that it made you feel less lonely.
I will reread it tomorrow and see if I can workshop the perspective a bit. The guild was supposed to be guilt, but I already changed that.
Very relatable :)
But if you want feedback, I guess that I expected a rhyme to god at the end of the last line.
The internet?
Give me feedback you cowards!
I wrote this a little before the climate dread actually got me. Didn't touch it for a while and did some editing over the past day.
I don't like that the poem feels hopelesness, I don't want to sell hopelessness in hopeless times. I eventually recovered from the episode so there is a semi hopeful ending there. I just don't know what to write.
Please tell me what you like, dislike or how it made you feel
Would you say that you need qualifications to form opinions about a topic? That seems quite restrictive, specifically for politics. Lots of people have and share political opinions without qualifications. You yourself just shared a political opinion, do you have qualifications?
A personal poem about losing my faith, it's been tough, but slowly getting better.
Before the trees and gods were felled.
The branches beckoned, me to climb.
Ascend, and touch the sky divine
The roots proclaimed: forget the tree!
Just trust in what your eyes can see.
But, life without the light is hard.
I often wish the leaves would part,
to let me see the sky again,
and light my path on dark terrain.
But if above is like below,
perhaps the sky was always faux
I choose, for now, to stay down here,
to make some fire and a spear.
And walk the path with all it's fear,
to face the foes that may be near.
Perhaps that path will come and cross,
another soul alone and lost. ```
By me, Goodman
Sleepy but sleepless
7th floor 9th door
I miss you
more than before
So I write
to kiss you goodnight
Before my flight
In my dreams with you
Tonight.
By me, Goodman
Give me feedback you cowards!
I wrote this in 60 minutes so there must be something you can remark upon.
Halt!
This is an attention robbery! You'll read my poetry till finality or, it'll cost you your dignity! Now give me every dime of y'r time!
Don't be bored, no need to fear, I'm not like the real robbers here. They, don't respect their spoils like me! I actually savor your time you see.
No, I have a spine so I rob with rhyme. They would trap you in their web Stab you with subscriptions And ad-insult to y'r injury.
Now hand over that feedback wallet, and be on your way, wanderer Steer clear of the algorithm wood. Those robbers are up to no good.
I am looking for general feedback and alternative titles. Maybe "final witness" or just "Satellite"?
Art that acts and looks like life,
sows dissent and causes strife.
As our trust and will wears down,
the web we know will surely drown.
Prove you're real, so we proclaim!
Don't hide behind your username!
I say: I rhyme, therefore I am!
You say: so can a pró-gram.
Can I convince that I can feel?
Can you conceive that I am real?
Is my prose not plenty proof?
Or the product of a spoof?
I guess you cannot truly know,
Some sureties you must forgo.
But if you really must, just,
show some little brittle trust.
Then I will solemnly swear to show,
how far that trust can really go.
so,
Although I can't dispel duplicity.
Accept this act of authenticity.
By me, Goodman
