Grr, SG-1 taunts me....

Why does Gateworld not have the transcripts for "Meridian"? I need to know if everyone's bodies vanish when they Ascend, or if it was just the Ancients. *eyes Gateworld*

*pauses, eyes firebubbles310 as well* I also need new friends, ones who don't go, "Hey, 'Home is the Place We Bury Our Dead' is a neat title, you should write something!" Like I need more fics to write. *pokes*

In other news, I was worried about a response log for my level-400 Medieval Literature class, about whether I'd done it wrong or not -- apparently I did it exactly right, since the teacher had me and another student read ours aloud (had I and another student read ours aloud? I think the first try was right. Ugh, grammar, why do you torment me so?). It was quite an honor, considering I'm the only sophomore in a class of juniors and seniors, but I hate the sound of my own voice, so I wasn't really happy about the "speaking aloud" aspect of the honor. ;)

Stephen Dobyns poems

I think Grief and Silence are my favorites of this selection. Man, I really love this class. I never thought I'd enjoy modern poetry as much as I am right now. :)

Grief

Trying to remember you
is like carrying water
in my hands a long distance
across sand. Somewhere
people are waiting.
They have drunk nothing for days.

*

Your name was the food I lived on;
now my mouth is full of dirt and ash.
To say your name was to be surrounded
by feathers and silk; now, reaching out,
I touch glass and barbed wire.
Your name was the thread connecting my life;
now I am fragments on a tailor's floor.

*

I was dancing when I
learned of your death; may
my feet be severed from my body.

Anger

I am the simplest of disguises.
Putting me on, you fling yourself
at your victim. Taking me off,
you are the chance witness, finding
the weapon, just happening by.

*

The animal within him is hungry.

*

His hands come in boxes.
His skin is lined with knives.
His head is a mixture of phosphorus and
sulphur: strike him anywhere.

Envy

You invite me to a banquet in your honor;
I bring my own dinner: ash and vinegar.

*

You won a prize
where I wasn't a judge.

*

I put on the news of your success
like a coat of nails.
Each step I take
is another reason to hate you.

Covetousness

Keep your toys and small possessions;
I only want your hands.
Everything I touch feels like it's mine.

*

He does his shopping in the houses of his friends.

*

I dreamt I was you, sleeping with your wife,
dreaming you were me, sleeping with mine.

Silence

I am the music you were born to.
Then you put me aside, wanting your own;
like sticks scratching together, you wanted your own.
I am the song you will sing longest.

I am the clothing you were born in.
Then you changed me for bright reds and blues;
like a clown or a bridegroom you wanted everything perfect.
Death is a marriage; you will wear me to the wedding.

I am the house you were born in.
Then you left me and went traveling;
like a child without parents or fortune you went traveling.
I am where you are going.