Perhaps
Perhaps, fewer words could be used to tell you,
The extents that I would go for you,
But then how else will you know,
That I would scale mountains topped with snow,
And that I would slay armies of your foes,
I would burn villages to the ground,
And build you a house where there is no home,
How I would hold you in the winter,
And watch you flourish in spring?
How would you know that I would carve your name in the moon?
That I would bring your wishes to life
And that I would never let you want,
And the way that I would look at you,
A solar system of your person,
One whole galaxy in my hands?
How does ‘I love you’ compare?
Perhaps for some , it is enough, those three words
Perhaps for you, I can make some that are new
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Perhaps is a poem from my WIP anthology The Little Letters! Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list!
Taglist: @jingalalaadventures
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I love libraries.
I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.
Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.
This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.
Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.
Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.
Excuse me while I go weep.
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Wip Intro : The Little Letters
Reworking an old WIP with some fresh inspiration. The Little Letters is a revamped and slightly adjusted version of Silent Words of the Eldest Daughters, just so it can better encompass the things we want it to say. And by we, I mean my cousin and I.
The Little Letters is an anthology of short stories and poems (mostly poems) about growing up as the eldest daughter / immigrant daughter , and what life is really like, finally saying all the things we held our tongues on. It’s personal and raw and a little scary but we are very much enjoying it so far.
Here is our working cover:
The poems are split into a few broad categories which are:
A Future Forced and Framed
Sisters of Solitude
Hopeful Hearts
Reminiscing a Lost Childhood
Belonging to Somewhere
I’ll post a couple of the poems and if anyone is interested in being on a tag list then please, let me know!!
Image ID : A deep purple book cover with small purple blobs in various shades scattered randomly. Outlines of the blobs are slightly off centred. A gold rectangle surrounds the words ‘The Little Letters’ written down the middle of the page. Green leafy vines extend from the top right and bottom left corners of the page. End ID.
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here is your reminder that all trauma is valid.
trauma is to do with how our brains process (or don't process) memories and experiences and that if something is traumatic for you then that is trauma.
it doesn't matter if you or someone else thinks it should be significant or not or if someone else went through the same thing and wasn't impacted by it. what matters is if it's significant to you and how it impacted you.
a huge part of recovering from trauma is allowing yourself to accept that you had it in the first place.
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I meant to post about this back when TTPD was released and never got around to it, but it's so touching to me that Taylor has peppered so many British-isms into the album, and not just in a jokey kind of way like in "London Boy" back in the Lover days.
It's such a beautiful, subtle nod to how much that was her life for years, and to the marks the city and the muse(s) left on her. Because isn't that true of any of us when we've been around a person for so long, or live in a place we've made into our home? You start picking up their speech patterns until they become second nature. (For instance, one of my best friends moved abroad for university, and before long she started dropping in words like "fortnight," "lorry,""shops" (vs. stores) into conversation when we'd speak, which only got stronger along with her accent shifting as the years went by and she stayed there.) Kind of a love language code switching.
It’s sprinkled throughout the album. “For a fortnight” in “Fortnight,” “blokes” on “The Alchemy,” “the shops,”* in “How Did It End?” I think my favourite use of it is in “The Bolter,” because it’s such a classic twangy yeehaw Taylor song, but she’s got these tiny turns of phrase that point to where she spent a large portion of her adult life. (E.g. “best mates,” “out the drive,”* “wish he wouldn’t be sore,”*)(*yes I know these aren’t like, specifically not-American, but as someone who has grown up with North American English in the same generation as Taylor, these definitely feel anachronistic/foreign. Like if I hear someone say “the shops” instead of “the store,” “drive” instead of driveway or “sore” meaning upset, I’m thinking they either watch a lot of 1950s movies or they’re from the UK. And yes I know it’s to make everything rhyme BUT THAT’S THE POINT SHE IS MAKING THEM RHYME ON PURPOSE ok I’m stopping now before the linguistics nerd in me jumps out) It’s such a cool merging of influences, much like the album as a whole fuses together experiences and muses and sounds.
And that gets back to the “I love this place for so long,”of it all. The place is the city, the place is her home, the place is the person, and they are all part of her. To me, these are part of the subtext of the album, of the big love she once felt for all of it, and how it changed her. And, why it hurt so much to leave it all behind. So she’s starting over back home in America, but she’s taking a little bit of London with her for its curtain call on TTPD.
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