sj_ashcroft2

@sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de

Backup account - main account with diasp.eu

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Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

My every breath
Interrogates
The stars
To find meaning
In the scars

sj_ashcroft2,

A universe of experiences, read as constellations and asterisms; regular and irregular patterns of painful events, @Aphelion.

How much can one life hold?

Aphelion, to random
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Your grandmother’s prayers are still protecting you. (1983)

sj_ashcroft2,

You were - you still are - fond of her, @Aphelion?

Did she have much influence on your early life?

sj_ashcroft2,

Never underestimate the capabilities of a wise woman, @Aphelion.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

I’ll still
Carry the
Light
Even if it
Means
Eating
Flames.

sj_ashcroft2,

That is a particularly interesting one, @Aphelion.

Determination. The darkness will not engulf. There will always be light, hope, love.

Eating the flames - internalising what outward circumstances threaten to snuff out.

Becoming, then, that light hope, love. Keeping safe, even secret, until it may burst out.

May your heart burn. I mean that kindly.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

You tried
To break
My spine
Repeatedly
Because
You never
Had one.

sj_ashcroft2,

The cruelty, and jealousy, of cowardice, @Aphelion. Your experience here reveals something, though. Your courage, in the face of that.

Aphelion, to random
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Just another manic Monday

sj_ashcroft2,

At that strength it is about to become a rather relaxed Monday, I would guess, @Aphelion.

Said he, from Tuesday...

sj_ashcroft2,

Enjoy. Tuesday is coming, and may surprise you pleasantly, @Aphelion .

I'm off to take a look at it, now...

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Until our sun
Swells out of
Main sequence
Swallowing the
Earth whole.
Until the heat
Death of the
Universe,
The firmament
Erased.
How deep,
My love,
Is eternity?
On the other
Side of which
I will still
Recognize
Your face.

#Poetry

sj_ashcroft2,

Then the central question is not so much a query of the nature of eternity, @Aphelion, as a statement that your love is as deep, and more lasting, than eternity.

You feel it will outlast the universe itself? Then may it have its fulfilment both in this and in whatever succeeds it.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

In the space between
Dream and awake
You dissipate
And I coalesce
Less sure of my
Being real
Without you.

sj_ashcroft2,

In dreams you are aware of a presence, then, that seems more real than waking, @Aphelion ?

Even our sense of self, of your environment, must seem more real in dream if this is taken literally.

Which has the potential to make waking hours nightmarish...

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

You bloom within me
Such a beautiful terror
Garden of secrets

sj_ashcroft2,

It is good to know you keep hidden beauties and terrors within you, @Aphelion.

Though you make a valiant attempt at revealing them through your poetry.

gehrke_test, to support German

Moin Support

Ich beobachte gerade (eigentlich seit ein paar Tagen) wieder träges Verhalten bei . Scheinbar werden meine Posts nicht ausgeliefert, was mein Ziel ausbremst!

Meldung: 'notifier task pending' seit 4 Stunden.

sj_ashcroft2,

@gehrke_test I, also, appear to have slowness issues. Posts from contacts over the last couple of days are not visible unless I go to their Mastodon or Diaspora pages, and my comments/posts over that period have a persistent hour glass emblem, so I assume are invisible elsewhere.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Your strange
Malediction
Brought this
Blade of desire
To my chest,
And I fall upon it
Laughing.

sj_ashcroft2,

Malediction? Interesting in the context. A curse that brings desire to your heart and laughter to your lips, @Aphelion?

Even causes a willing self-sacrifice?

Strange malediction, indeed.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Your breath
A hymn to
Gods of my
Veins and stars
And things
Without names
That wait
In the dark.
How my heart
Begs to hear
It quicken.

sj_ashcroft2,

There is an intense intimacy in this one, @Aphelion.

Your veins, which carry your lifeblood, which pulse to your heart's throb. For breath to hymn that suggests a presence close; the tides that the lungs stir, audible. More than that, it is affected by your presence, as you are by its.

The stars, maybe an oblique reference to the star born content of your blood, the elemental, visceral basis of your being.

The Gods and the things without names - maybe your demons - waiting, speak to me more of the emotional, unspoken, hidden depths. The pain, the dread, the anticipation and hope of joy.

You heart, then, begs to hear the quickening breath to know the reality of a longed for reaction, I think. That which will be a sacrifice to those Gods, and an exorcism of the unnamed.

A plea to know love expressed, is at the root of this, as I read it.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

The damned
Breaths in these
Oubliette lungs
Sting, and I can’t
Speak, my heart
A frightened
Captive of
Guillotined
Dreams.

sj_ashcroft2,

Guillotined... cut asunder. Curtailed. Executed. Dreams as desires that are incompletely fulfilled.

Heart's desires that you fear may never be fulfilled. The lungs as prison pits of the air. Life itself, then, as imprisoned in present, physical bonds.

I take it you mean that you long to be free of the contraints this life imposes, @Aphelion.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

In death
My bones
Will whisper
To the soil
Better poetry
Than I could
Ever write
In life.

sj_ashcroft2,

But far more difficult to read or hear, @Aphelion.

You will sing, again.

Aphelion, (edited ) to random
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

The feds RE: me when there’s a tickle monster on the loose

sj_ashcroft2,

@Aphelion "Tickle monster..."???

🪶👾🤣

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

I call on Altair,
Beseech Deneb,
Implore Vega
To surround me
With the warmth
Of you while
I sleep.

sj_ashcroft2,

The Summer Triangle, @Aphelion ?

But, it seems, there is a specific mythology concerning Altair and Vega, here. Cygnus, of which Deneb is part, also links to that myth. I do not know if you were aware of that, but I suspect it is appropriate to the ideas you are seeking to convey.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

My body,
A sarcophagus
For dead stars,
and I’m still
Convinced
The sky won’t
Welcome me
Home.

sj_ashcroft2,

Why, @Aphelion?

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

Pull me
From the
Humiliation
Of this flesh
Into the
Sanctity of
The stars.

sj_ashcroft2,

I think you are more advanced on that path than am I, in some ways, @Aphelion. Pull me along with you...?

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

I want to
Be a stone
Slowly giving
The river my
Secrets

sj_ashcroft2,

Then you must have identified who is the river @Aphelion

Someone wearing down your defences, to the point you wish to reveal all you are inwardly? That seems quite an achievement.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

What is left of me
Is scattered
On the surface
Of what is left
Of you

sj_ashcroft2,

So...

What is left, of either, @Aphelion?

Aphelion, to random
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

My new purse 🫣

https://youtu.be/BOBdol6I7ws?si=ypofIKG-7mSFDSC2

sj_ashcroft2,

Oh yes. Trying to make us boys cry, are you, oh aethyrial one, @Aphelion?

😄

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

I’d break the silence
If not for that
Seven year flinch,
Shrapnel scar itch,
Violence hidden
Beneath every
Word.

sj_ashcroft2,

The seven year itch, being the assumed time it takes for married eyes to start roving. Here, I doubt the time is relevant save as the reference to that idea of a relationship coming apart. Rather, it speaks of a period of accumulated, emotional injury, if I understand correctly, @Aphelion.

It is emotional rather than physical, I think, as the violence is in the words. There is a desire to "break the silence," seek to heal a rift, but a realisation that nothing has changed - the violence is merely hidden.

If this is accurate, I'm sorry - moreso than if I have misinterpreted.

Aphelion, to poetry
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

In spite of
Everything,
I could never
Quite find the
Right alchemy
To do as they
Told me and
Harden my
Heart.

sj_ashcroft2,

That would not be right alchemy in any proper sense, @Aphelion. And, we've all noticed. The hard hearted could not write as you do.

Aphelion, to random
@Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org avatar

I want to be reincarnated as this rose

sj_ashcroft2,

Sorry, @Aphelion. Bad news. The rose is nowhere near beautiful enough...

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