jadelennox: Senora Sabasa Garcia, by Goya (Default)
[personal profile] jadelennox

Conscientious Objector

I shall die, but
that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.
He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,
business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning.
But I will not hold the bridle
while he clinches the girth.
And he may mount by himself:
I will not give him a leg up.

Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,
I will not tell him which way the fox ran.
With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where
the black boy hides in the swamp.
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death;
I am not on his pay-roll.

I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends
nor of my enemies either.
Though he promise me much,
I will not map him the route to any man's door.
Am I a spy in the land of the living,
that I should deliver men to Death?
Brother, the password and the plans of our city
are safe with me; never through me
Shall you be overcome.

jadelennox: Senora Sabasa Garcia, by Goya (Default)
[personal profile] jadelennox

I posted "Justice Denied In Massachusetts" in [community profile] poetry, and that led me into an absolute Millay spiral. (Also I ended up reading a few pieces like "On Edna St. Vincent Millay's 'Justice Denied in Massachusetts'", and I don't think I realized how many of the poems I already knew are Sacco and Vanzetti poems.)

I didn't feel like inflicting a whole bundle of Millay on everyone who reads [community profile] poetry but I don't mind inflicting her on all of you. So here goes.

Two Sonnets In Memory

(Nicola Sacco—Bartolomeo Vanzetti)
Executed August 23, 1927

As men have loved their lovers in times past
And sung their wit, their virtue and their grace,
So have we loved sweet Justice to the last,
That now lies here in an unseemly place.
The child will quit the cradle and grow wise
And stare on beauty till his senses drown;
Yet shall be seen no more by mortal eyes
Such beauty as here walked and here went down.
Like birds that hear the winter crying plain
Her courtiers leave to seek the clement south;
Many have praised her, we alone remain
To break a fist against the lying mouth
Of any man who says this was not so:
Though she be dead now, as indeed we know.

Where can the heart be hidden in the ground
And be at peace, and be at peace forever,
Under the world, untroubled by the sound
Of mortal tears, that cease from pouring never?
Well for the heart, by stern compassion harried,
If death be deeper than the churchmen say,—
Gone from this world indeed what's graveward carried,
And laid to rest indeed what's laid away.
Anguish enough while yet the indignant breather
Have blood to spurt upon the oppressor's hand;
Who would eternal be, and hang in ether
A stuffless ghost above his struggling land,
Retching in vain to render up the groan
That is not there, being aching dust's alone?

Dream - video game

Jul. 24th, 2025 02:22 pm
ysobel: (Default)
[personal profile] ysobel
I dreamed I was playing a very casual game where you went around harvesting things -- a few types of mushrooms, different berries, catnip plants, even clouds somehow -- and you would also encounter creatures that you could offer the items to. Critters would respond with 😍 (love), 😊 (like), 😐 (neutral), 😝 (dislike), or 🤮 (ew), and their attitude would adjust accordingly. Enough positive points got a ❤️ and they became huggable; enough negative points meant they'd run away from you, though you could still leave gifts. There was a 'notebook' where you could keep track of discovered rules ("hyrax doesn't like snozzberries" is one I remember from the dream) and sometimes a creature would have a floating thought bubble with what they were in the mood for.

...I kinda want this game to actually exist...
jadelennox: a sign which reads "GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS GORGEOUS LIBRARIANS"  (liberrian: girls girls girls)
[personal profile] jadelennox

I have started rereading the Amelia Peabody mysteries. It makes me sad that they've definitely had at least a light visit from the suck fairy [note], because I've never realised before how much Amelia is in love with Evelyn in The Crocodile On The Sandbank.

She's obviously got it bad for Emerson as well, but my goodness her jealous desire to spend her life with her beautiful Evelyn is overwhelming.


Note: Amelia was never supposed to be a reliable narrator, and her Victorian Orientalism was always to be read as historical. It's just that in modern conventions we -- correctly -- no longer feel it's okay to portray the likable heroines of (wholly unrealistic) historical romances with historically accurate racism. [back]

jadelennox: Girlyman: Does Nate ever think of anything he doesn't say? (girlyman: nate doesn't think)
[personal profile] jadelennox

if I were a fae of some sort in a punk band I would simply call my first album Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pixies.

I will not be taking questions at this time.

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kristin

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