Case (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
case) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomsecrets2014-06-02 06:46 pm
case) wrote in fandomsecrets2014-06-02 06:46 pm
[ SECRET POST #2708 ]
⌈ Secret Post #2708 ⌋
Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.
01.
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02.
[Degrassi Junior High/Degrassi High and Saved By The Bell]
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03.
[The Cinema Snob]
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04.
[Phil Robertson from Duck Dynasty]
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05.
[Silicon Valley]
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06.
[Xavier Dolan]
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07.
[Pacific Rim]
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08.
[Sailor Moon]
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09.
[Iwan Rheon]
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10.
[Love Stage!!]
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11.
[The Losers (movie)]
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12.
[K-pop]
Notes:
Secrets Left to Post: 03 pages, 052 secrets from Secret Submission Post #387.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ], [ 1 - posted twice ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.
Re: Favourite poem
First off, "Tony Steinberg: Brave Seventh Grade Viking Warrior" by Taylor Mali (http://www.taylormali.com/poems-online/tony-steinberg-brave-seventh-grade-viking-warrior/) because holy shit, all I could do was cry into my sleeves.
However, Wistlawa Szymborska is probably my favorite poet ever, because even in translation, she's got such a gift with words that it grips you by the ribs and makes you feel something, whether it's happiness or sadness or contemplation. Personal favorites are "Vocabulary," "Starvation Camp Near Jaslo" (the opening lines of this one are some of my favorites of any poem ever), and "Conversation with a Stone" (which has the best ending lines).
Re: Favourite poem
Re: Favourite poem
After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won't
straighten themselves up, after all.
Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.
Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.
Someone has to drag in a girder
to prop up a wall,
Someone has to glaze a window,
rehang a door.
Photogenic it's not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.
We'll need the bridges back,
and new railway stations.
Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.
Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls the way it was.
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.
From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.
Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.
In the grass that has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out
blade of grass in his mouth
gazing at the clouds.