New poem: Reynar
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@ -59,6 +59,7 @@ done
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<li>fur suit</li>
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<li>sites like natural spanking</li>
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<li>fucking dead woman</li>
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<li>i like killing</li>
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<li>one night stand stories</li>
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</ul>
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<p>The results of my research were... disheartening, to say the least.</p>
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feed.ass
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feed.ass
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# MayVaneDay ASS (https://tilde.town/~dzwdz/ass/) feed
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2022-05-26 https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/r/reynar.txt Reynar
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2022-05-25 https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/u/under-my-fingernails.txt Under My Fingernails
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2022-05-24 https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/g/gradation.txt Gradation
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2022-05-21 https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/g/grey.txt The Grey
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111
feed.xml
111
feed.xml
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<name>Vane Vander</name>
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<email>vanevander@mayvaneday.org</email>
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</author>
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<entry>
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<title>Reynar</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/r/reynar.txt" />
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<id>https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/r/reynar.txt</id>
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<published>2022-05-26</published>
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<summary type="html"><![CDATA[<article>
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<pre>
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The pendulum swings yet again back and forth
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as I ask you the millionth time and one more
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if you still love me, still tolerate
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my existence, are sure towards me
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you hold no sliver of anger or hate.
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Because we've made these vows so many more times,
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but I'm forbidden by my anxiety
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from failing to plan for any contingencies.
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Like I'm my father now,
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I myself with questions hound:
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"Well, now you're twenty-two,
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and I don't want to seem like I'm forcing you
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to come along with me."
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Angel numbers meet at midnight's bend.
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"For you, you'll never see me again."
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But Jett, does it work the other way?
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If I ask you to, will you forever stay?
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Will you swear yourself in health and sickness to my lonely side?
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Will you in this new world I am creating reside?
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Because, you should know,
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if you willed it,
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I would gladly disappear.
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Go, if you must,
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without fear.
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I will be here
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at the end of every day
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to reclaim
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that which was only ever mine.
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</pre>
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</article>]]>
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</summary>
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</entry>
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<entry>
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<title>Under My Fingernails</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/u/under-my-fingernails.txt" />
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@ -188,72 +233,6 @@ against an ashen gray sky,
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in the first blooms and blossoms
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of my garden in birthing spring:
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if it was good and beautiful, I saw you in everything.
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</pre>
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</article>]]>
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</summary>
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</entry>
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<entry>
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<title>Tissue Sample</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/t/tissue.txt" />
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<id>https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/t/tissue.txt</id>
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<published>2022-05-19</published>
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<summary type="html"><![CDATA[<article>
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<pre>
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How do I come to terms
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with the fact that I will die?
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How do I look my mother in the eyes
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and say, "You won't have me
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for that much more time?"
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I look in your eyes,
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and I see a flame
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that burns so bright,
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that signals something
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arriving
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just over the horizon.
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I expected to be dying by now,
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strength fleeing from my limbs,
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lungs crushed by anxiety
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like the world itself was closing in.
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I got all my homework done early
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in February
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even though graduation was three
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months away, not knowing
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what state I would be in,
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six months from onset
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being the low end.
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But except for the sores that pulse
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in movement's fury and sleeptime's lull,
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I'm just as healthy as ever.
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I'm searching my body for every possible sign
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that the end is coming, that looms my demise.
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And I am in pain, I will admit,
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but not nearly enough to classify myself as sick.
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I'm in a science classroom, with scalpel prodding myself.
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Clean up the experiment, jar me up, return me to the shelf
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in tanager's formaldehyde, amber sleep, sanctioned suicide.
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You haven't really died until you've returned to the earth,
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I think, given back the dust in your bones
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to this planet that insists it be your home.
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You haven't really disappeared
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until your body has dispersed so much
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that nobody can point at the ground and say,
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"The person I love now rests here."
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This vessel, I hope, will not be preserved
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in a morgue, under a man's care, final horror.
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My body was never ever really mine
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in this life.
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Mother still sometimes cries
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that I'm not a doll anymore,
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won't wear dresses anymore.
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Will she keep me around when my body moves nevermore,
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preserved, plasticized,
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mannequin most lifelike?
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Deny me Velouria's embrace one last time?
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</pre>
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</article>]]>
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</summary>
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@ -115,9 +115,11 @@
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=> p/pressed.txt pressed flower petals
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=> p/psa.txt Public Disservice Announcement
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=> p/passer.txt Passer
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## R
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=> r/reakirante.txt reakirante
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=> r/regnant.txt regnant
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=> r/reynar.txt Reynar
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=> r/rondiro.txt rondiro de lukso
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=> r/rugxa.txt rugxa kresto
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=> r/ridge.txt The Ridge
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@ -120,6 +120,7 @@ iP
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iR
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0reakirante r/reakirante.txt
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0regnant r/regnant.txt
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0Reynar r/reynar.txt
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0rondiro de lukso r/rondiro.txt
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0rugxa kresto r/rugxa.txt
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0The Ridge r/ridge.txt
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@ -137,6 +137,7 @@
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├── <a href="./r/">r</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./r/reakirante.txt">reakirante.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./r/regnant.txt">regnant.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./r/reynar.txt">reynar.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./r/ridge.txt">ridge.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./r/rondiro.txt">rondiro.txt</a><br>
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│ └── <a href="./r/rugxa.txt">rugxa.txt</a><br>
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@ -185,7 +186,7 @@
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</p>
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<p>
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22 directories, 130 files
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22 directories, 131 files
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<br><br>
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</p>
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<hr>
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40
poetry/r/reynar.txt
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40
poetry/r/reynar.txt
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@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
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Reynar
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2022-05-26
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***
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The pendulum swings yet again back and forth
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as I ask you the millionth time and one more
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if you still love me, still tolerate
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my existence, are sure towards me
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you hold no sliver of anger or hate.
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Because we've made these vows so many more times,
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but I'm forbidden by my anxiety
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from failing to plan for any contingencies.
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Like I'm my father now,
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I myself with questions hound:
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"Well, now you're twenty-two,
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and I don't want to seem like I'm forcing you
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to come along with me."
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Angel numbers meet at midnight's bend.
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"For you, you'll never see me again."
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But Jett, does it work the other way?
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If I ask you to, will you forever stay?
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Will you swear yourself in health and sickness to my lonely side?
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Will you in this new world I am creating reside?
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Because, you should know,
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if you willed it,
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I would gladly disappear.
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Go, if you must,
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without fear.
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I will be here
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at the end of every day
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to reclaim
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that which was only ever mine.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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