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My friend April recently had a birthday. This is a poem I wrote for her.

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The Ship of Theseus theorem asks the question: if a ship has been at sea for so long that every single piece of it has been broken and replaced or repaired to the point that there is no single part of the ship that is still there from its original construction, is it still the same ship?

I argue that it is.

Kintsugi is the Japanese practice of repairing broken pottery by using gold power in the repair material when it’s mended, turning the cracks a brilliant shine of veins, creating something unique and beautiful out of something that was shattered.

April

You have been broken and repaired so many times that you are now solid gold, shining for the rest of us.

You are still you
But you are also something new

I love you
We love you

Happy birthday.




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skonen_blades: (Default)
My back is a forest fire of blown-out birthday candle wishes
I fly a flag of smoke signals behind me up into the sky
The charcoal ghost of a lighthouse
The absent student in my chest
Becoming a mirror that mattresses use for instagram
The orchard in my ribs accordions shut
And wheezes wide like the mouth of a monster
The one-two applause of my heart
Constantly losing its slippery, spasming grip on my blood
The sound of one hand slow clapping
These shotgun shells I use for eyes need watering
To dampen the gunpowder
The world clatters past and around me
A circus of shopping carts and lost pet posters
A new forgiveness needed every day
The spare key is no longer under the doormat
Or the flower pot
And I feel like I’ve become an avid collector of targets
Hoarding them shoplifter under my coat
I feel the sunlight of hope searing my skin with a hiss
The slow roll of my gift-wrapped brain
As it tries to snakeskin out of it
I improvise a few smiles
I try on a few more degrees of glee
It’s not a mess in here on purpose
I’m just trying to throw off the scent
Distracting the hunt too successfully
Like wearing camouflage
When no one’s even looking at you
Saving up for invisibility
When it was given to you years ago for free
I live in a greeting card
Where saving up for a rainy day is impossible
Because it’s raining all the time
Every finish line has ‘jk’ written on the other side
Don’t get me wrong
It’s bearable
It’s beautiful
It definitely has its moments
And I love being here
But patience is too flammable
Fear is too common
Facts are too malleable
And the forest is way too smoky
For anything other than glimpses
Of peace



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skonen_blades: (blurg)
A friend of mine named Silver that I went to school with had a birthday today. I was thinking about Silver and what an unusual name is was and ended up writing a little birthday poem for her. I thought I'd also post it here.

Nothing Rhymes With Silver


Two words in the entire English language do not have a rhyming partner.
They are the words that stand alone at the Dance of Poetry, jealous of the common words easily used by writers to make couplets.
These two words verge on being opposites.
They are partners in their loneliness and in standing still while all other words find and refind partners around them, they discover their own unique partnership in the stillness.
They cannot join but they are indispensible to the language.

Nothing rhymes with silver.
The word, like the woman, is unique.

Nothing ryhmes with orange.
The colour of summertime fruit, deserts, the west coast, sunshine, and gold.
And gold is the basis for North America's entire financial system.
If gold is the daytime, if gold is greed, if gold is material,

Then Silver has a different quality.
Silver is a 25th wedding anniversary.
A shimmering night-time metal.
Stolen by crows and worn on fingers.
Silver can be the cold shine of financial gain
But it can also be the welcoming glint of moonlight on a lake.
An enchanted chain.
Silver is valued above all else by the fairies.
The british pound is based on silver and no currency is more stable.
You are your weight in stirling.
You catch the sun like polished steel.
The shine of chrome on a black sports car.
Silver is used for mirrors.

You are a polished surface valued not only by the greedy.

The most valuable metal strong enough to make utensils, silver earns its keep unlike the soft and lazy gold. It's still a mystery why silverware kills germs. Perhaps they recognize the majesty and kill themselves.

Silver is the best metal for conducting electricity and heat.
Knowing the woman, that comes as no surprise.

Silver makes second place feel like first.





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