Hallowe'en Trick or Treat Meme

[thisbluespirit]

Memed from justice_turtle and dbskyler:

In honor of All Hallow's Eve, I'm inviting trick-or-treaters to my 'door.' Comment "trick-or-treat" to this post and...well, you know the drill. Treats can be anything that strikes my fancy (pics of fave actors or pairings, one sentence fics, graphics, a few words why I'm glad to have you on my flist, etc. etc.). The more "houses" to visit the more fun it'll be, so go ahead, open your journal and help spread the fun!


(It'll be better than me waffling on forever about happy letters...)

Comments

[belantana.livejournal.com]

Ooh, yes please! I've never celebrated Hallowe'en in my life and then it isn't as if you haven't given me tons of presents in recs which I haven't got around to opening yet, so to speak! But you already have a poem for me *g* I would love to hear it.

[thisbluespirit]

It is, sadly easier for me to rec than to read. or write.

Here is a pome what I didn't write. I like it, but it is important to bear in mind that it got tangled in my head with a post nuclear fallout book I was reading at the time (which was a long while ago). So it is an Apocalyptic poem, even if it actually isn't:

*

The Child Dying by Edwin Muir

Unfriendly friendly universe,
I pack your stars into my purse,
And bid you so farewell.
That I can leave you, quite go out,
Go out, go out beyond all doubt,
My father says, is the miracle.

You are so great, and I so small:
I am nothing, you are all:
Being nothing, I can take this way.
Oh I need neither rise nor fall,
For when I do not move at all
I shall be out of all your day.

It's said some memory will remain
In the other place, grass in the rain,
Light on the land, sun on the sea,
A flitting grace, a phantom face,
But the world is out. There is not place
Where it and its ghost can ever be.

Father, father, I dread this air
Blown from the far side of despair
The cold cold corner. What house, what hold,
What hand is there? I look and see
Nothing-filled eternity,
And the great round world grows weak and old.

Hold my hand, oh hold it fast-
I am changing! - until at last
My hand in yours no more will change,
Though yours change on. You here, I there,
So hand in hand, twin-leafed despair -
I did not know death was so strange.

[belantana.livejournal.com]

Oh goodness, how terrible, thank you! (I feel you are one of the few people of my acquaintance to understand htat sentence.)

Unfriendly friendly universe,
I pack your stars into my purse

Ugh.

[thisbluespirit]

Aww. I thought you would like it (um?) if you hadn't already encountered it. And, yes, I love that phrase and "hand in hand, twin-leafed despair".

(I copied it out long ago from a textbook for English Lit - it had Six Modern Poets, and our teacher kept making us read Robert Frost for no good reason, and I would be sneakily reading this one. As a teenager, I had a preference for death and angst over mending a wall and milking the cow. Obviously, I've long since forgiven Mr Frost for having the misfortune to be the favourite poet of a quite dreadful teacher. Of course, in this instance, I just found it on the internet...)

[belantana.livejournal.com]

I hadn't encountered it already, no. Most of my poetry-reading of late comes via delgaserasca!

Ha, don't all teenagers have a preference for death and angst? I need only flip through my secret notebooks of appalling fic (not that I realised at the time that it was fic - and not that I flip through them now if I can at all help it!)

[thisbluespirit]

Oh, yes, it's a Rule of Being a Teenager. :-)