Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Tyromancy:
Divination by omens found in and on cheese. The shape and patterns of mold found on cheese were interpreted. Young women would divide cheese into pieces and write the name of a different suitor on each piece. It was believed they would marry the person whose name was on the piece of cheese where mold first developed. Possible answers to a question would be written on pieces of cheese and all of the pieces would be dumped into a cage that held a hungry mouse. The correct prediction would supposedly be on the piece the mouse first began to eat. Another form of tyromancy would find omens in the patterns and designs formed as the cheese coagulated.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Monday, September 7, 2015

Sagittarius — 
there is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads,
walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was
your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing
sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. oh, my child;
how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. the feeble
minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. having a voyager heart does not make you
afraid of commitment. it simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world.
(do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more
than all their empty ones combined. keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying;
only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)

-poetry for the signs: the “you’ve done well” edition, L. Schreiber (via TKoW)

Home

You have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
No one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied
no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough
the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off
or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
I want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important
no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here
-Warsan Shire

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

File Under: things I need to work on

"You can’t spend your whole life holding the door open for people and then being angry they didn’t thank you. Nobody asked you to hold the fucking door."
-Orange is the new Black