I dream that I wake up dreaming In a world of sand. You are gone. Every grain of us is free. I am free. The very kids are getting free— Plato talked about this. This desert Has no walls, for there is no stone, For stone is frozen sand, for stone Is sand in chains. Our silent bombs,
It seems to me that Curtis Yarvin has been a poet, reading to audiences, over 20 years and even still reading in public this very month, (see his recent post), longer than he has been a political prose philosopher and historian. https://youtu.be/6aa2UJX_EpQ This poet knows what he is doing, while my Dr. Seuss level ignorance wonders, where's the rhymes? We are lucky to have Yarvin share these personal thoughts, during this first year of mourning the passing of his much beloved wife. Sometimes thoughts get all jumbled up from different directions, during intense times. I see the flow of the theme of disintegration, in this poem. Piss and vinegar thrown against a godless sky, (or a still small voice)?
Since the last corona bump you gave I lost my mother and you've lost your wife, the absolute monarch and absolute egalitarian (if I'm not being too presumptuous) respectively. These really hit home, even if the difference in what exactly was lost is all too apparent by what is grieved and how.
Just wanted to ask if people that subscribed early enough can still expect you to finish your book and ship it. I know you went through a lot this year but an update would be greatly appreciated.
"Palling in appalling spalling" — does an internal feminine rhyme really fit the theme here? Ditto for all the references: do they flow thematically, or are they forced? This is not poetry, it's nerd rap, and piss-poor. You will never learn to write poetry if you're writing to get dumb women to snap.
Mr. Yarvin must have enjoyed Dune
My favorite of your poems, I think.
It seems to me that Curtis Yarvin has been a poet, reading to audiences, over 20 years and even still reading in public this very month, (see his recent post), longer than he has been a political prose philosopher and historian. https://youtu.be/6aa2UJX_EpQ This poet knows what he is doing, while my Dr. Seuss level ignorance wonders, where's the rhymes? We are lucky to have Yarvin share these personal thoughts, during this first year of mourning the passing of his much beloved wife. Sometimes thoughts get all jumbled up from different directions, during intense times. I see the flow of the theme of disintegration, in this poem. Piss and vinegar thrown against a godless sky, (or a still small voice)?
Since the last corona bump you gave I lost my mother and you've lost your wife, the absolute monarch and absolute egalitarian (if I'm not being too presumptuous) respectively. These really hit home, even if the difference in what exactly was lost is all too apparent by what is grieved and how.
So enjoyable to get high-quality poems
Hey
Just wanted to ask if people that subscribed early enough can still expect you to finish your book and ship it. I know you went through a lot this year but an update would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you
Whoa, deep
"Palling in appalling spalling" — does an internal feminine rhyme really fit the theme here? Ditto for all the references: do they flow thematically, or are they forced? This is not poetry, it's nerd rap, and piss-poor. You will never learn to write poetry if you're writing to get dumb women to snap.