#hendecasyllabic

[chronicallyblonde]

my favorite thing about latin? finding out that hendecasyllabic meter, which catullus used, is also used in the first line of the chorus of weezer’s hit song buddy holly. thus, you can sing catullus 16 to weezer, and boy oh boy if i didn’t have fun with that one

[thehiddenedge-blog]

Positivity Ch#16:(Just one thing)

Positivity Ch#16:(Just one thing)

Getting stocious, is good for the soul at times,

Likewise, a tiddly wallow does no harm,

For goodness sake, be quick to snap out of it,

Because, being positive has much more charm.

(Hendecasyllabic Stanza)

SAMSUNG CSC

Photo by Donald Tong from Pexels

Chapter 16 – Summary from the Wisdom of Dame Judi Dench

The Post has been inspired by If I Could Tell You Just One Thing by Richard Reed.

Over the…

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[amores-iacobi]

concors nescio mel vacāns amōris; ardōrem scio pestis ast dolōrem Dīdōnisque. Ovidī, Catulle, Sapphō, cor servāte mihī: diemque frēnō noctemque at fluvius redundat et fert in mentem excruciātam Erōnta somnō.

Empty, I do not know the like-minded sweetness of love; But I do know the passion of that plague and the grief of Dido. Ovid, Catullus, Sappho, save my heart: During both day and night I restrain it, but, in sleep, The river overflows and bears Eros into my tortured mind.

[amores-iacobi]

esse māne dīcis, amor, dracōnem: asperum, squāmīs, facis ignis aurīs. tē resurgente aspiciam igne: dulcem,      somniculōsam.

“You say, love, that in the morning you are a dragon: Savage, with scales, breaths of torch and fire. With the light rising again, let me see you: sweet,     Sleepy.”

[amores-iacobi]

tēcum spēs mihi amōris est ruenda.

“I must destroy the hope of love with you.”

[and-saw-nothing]

january hendecasyllabic

it occurred to me as i drove the coastline

(my worst fear in the tilted rearview mirror)

how this would have seemed to my mother absent

always up for a long and winding road trip

better if she could ask all sorts of questions

(classes girlfriend or internships if any)

now all silence in my faithful car regina

driving back to the snowy shore of waban

where i sat before, unmatriculated

gazing out at the lake beside my mother

who said, “emily, if you came to school here

if you found yourself down-and-out or homesick--

sitting here beside the lake with its pine trees

you might find a place free from all the problems

which accompany flourishing adulthood”

this i think alone in the car ride northward

aching all over for my mother absent.

[anarchivism]

Montage

Her eyelids were backlit by firework shades (fulvous and coquelicot); she moved too fast for hearing; words blew past her like bullet points, and she tethered her heart to the helium in the sun, watched it flare and bubble and scream, newborn, embryonic, wetter than the rain. Her mother tells her: you were born in the rain, sweetheart, and your skin was a million shades of blue (glaucous and zaffre), and the cry-scream of accepting humanity died out fast, and when you laughed it sounded like helium; your little feet rattled the arrowhead points on display at the museum, and those points shook like needles in a compass. In the rain that broke out of heaven rising helium levels cause the presenter’s pitch to rise; shades of green (smaragdine and xanadu) flash fast as the car follows white lines, and when the scream- squeal of tires leaves asphalt skid marks the scream of the infant sun echoes back several points of interest; see the canyon, watch the rain descend through smoke like coiled orange peels, fast and hard, a barrage of moaning arrows. Shades (gunmetal and wenge) fade; the helium date comes back ancient; her brother’s helium balloon pops loud, piercing, and he starts to scream for end-times, for revelation. Soon the shades of sunshine (aureolin and flax) formed points and pierced her chest; she dug her hands in, pulled fast, a liberator; she didn’t mind the rain on her parade; a dream (puce and ceil) of rain- soaked kisses blossomed; soon after helium lifted her heart in her chest. It bubbled fast; she choked on surreality, and the scream that slid along the wainscoting felt like points of glass dancing in her irises. Soon shades and tints flash fast, blurring, painting a bright scream of helium explosions making sharp points shatter; in the sun-rain she puts on her shades.

[theadventureofhistorygirl]

Thought I had 3 weeks to do the thing...

I have 3 DAYS TO DO THE THING. FUCKITY FUCK FUCK.