Ramblings of an Old Kweer

 
   It's hard to find the words to describe the sense of grief that is creeping over me; from reading some of the comments in my earliest posts by people who've gone in real life (R.I.P. woman_of_ ) to comments obviously deleted their lj's in the past couple of days; comments lost now so that I only have my half of the conversation left. I feel real loss most when the comments are about fics or in response to a birthday wish, or some personal post. 

   I can't believe that I can feel that much pain about something that often seems so ephemeral, but I feel like I'm torturing myself; wondering whether it's worth saving anything. I mean all that wondrous material lost when the willtara yahoo group disappeared; all those wonderful early fan sites gone. 

  It feels so pointless, yet I cannot stop because Right Now? It feels like all that's keeping me going. 

  I cannot even find the desire to write. I want to. I still need to. I am writing. But I always stop at some point, and it seems like I know I'm not going to finish it. 

  So why I posted this... 


   GRIEF
   BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 
  

  

  Goddess preserve, 

  

  Kerk Hiraeth 

 
  Not new, but this struck me as soon as I saw it in a new way. The first Captain of my first Fandom is gone. There with him go all illusions of a rebirth of Blake's 7; never real, I thought, but apparently there all the same. 

  What will it be like when William Shatner goes to the great holodeck in the sky? 

  And there is a parallel, because I never really liked Blake; just as I never really liked Kirk. This it seems makes little difference. 



  O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! (From Memories of President Lincoln) 

   But O heart! heart! heart!
     O the bleeding drops of red,
       Where on the deck my Captain lies,
         Fallen cold and dead.

   Here Captain! dear father!
     This arm beneath your head!
       It is some dream that on the deck,
         You've fallen cold and dead.

   Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
     But I with mournful tread,
       Walk the deck my Captain lies,
         Fallen cold and dead. 


   And here is the complete poem from Leaves of Grass http://www.whitmanarchive.org/published/LG/1891/poems/192 




   Goddess watch over us all, 

   

   Kerk TehKek

Connected to Dawn's scenes in The Body; especially at the school.

Also any, and all, Who companions from the original show.

Any help considered :-)

kerk

Hi,

here is the second in what, I hope, will be a year-long series; starting last night with this poem - http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/14145.html - to bridge the gap between the yearly US National Poetry Months.

This I found in a 2013 collection; edited by Hamish Whyte, called Scottish Cats.

Little Drama by Gerry Cambridge (born 1959)

A bonny night. I step outside ande gaze,
Head back in autumn dark, up into space,
Where stars between the clouds burn with quiet praise,
And think for whatever reason of your face.

Fine thoughts beneath those glittering Pleiades.
Regrets. Goodbyes. The largeness of the night
Summons easy nostalgia for futilities,
Free from the searching glare of window light.

But what's this, suddenly, about my feet,
Rubbing at my ankles? It's the old, black fat tom
Unusually affectionate, startling from
Revery, ragged-eared, with his small thunder.
Is it mere love, or food he wants, I wonder?
His presence somehow makes the night complete.


This one goes out to all shippers, but mostly to that original 'ship Kirk/Spock and the longest lasting Buffyverse 'ship; known as bangel, or Buffy/Angel. Never really liked Kirk or Angel; never got why Angel was so attractive as a partner for Buffy (nor Spike did I really get; despite liking Spike a whole lot more), but the longevity of these partnerships in fandom are undoubtedly part of why the shows were such successes.


Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Ray.