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Emily Carew
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progress:
(32%)
"Had to put this on pause cause it’s a little too real right now with the heatwave hitting ottawa
#climatechangeisscary #soisAI" — Jun 18, 2024 12:57AM
"Had to put this on pause cause it’s a little too real right now with the heatwave hitting ottawa
#climatechangeisscary #soisAI" — Jun 18, 2024 12:57AM
progress:
(25%)
"idk how to feel… some are slay and some are not. Poetry is confusing and who’s to say I even ‘get it’?
When you start a poem called brother with:
“You jaywalked out of the womb”
But end it with
“There are so many things I would tell if I thought you would listen and so many more you would tell me if you believed I would understand”
What am I supposed to do but feel something I’ve never felt before?" — May 23, 2023 10:07PM
"idk how to feel… some are slay and some are not. Poetry is confusing and who’s to say I even ‘get it’?
When you start a poem called brother with:
“You jaywalked out of the womb”
But end it with
“There are so many things I would tell if I thought you would listen and so many more you would tell me if you believed I would understand”
What am I supposed to do but feel something I’ve never felt before?" — May 23, 2023 10:07PM
“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.”
― The Happy Prince and Other Stories
― The Happy Prince and Other Stories
“I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes;
I wonder if It weighs like Mine,
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the Date of Mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if They have to try,
And whether, could They choose between,
It would not be, to die.
I note that Some --
gone patient long --
At length, renew their smile.
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil.
I wonder if when Years have piled,
Some Thousands -- on the Harm
Of early hurt -- if such a lapse
Could give them any Balm;
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger Pain
By Contrast with the Love.
The Grieved are many,
I am told;
The reason deeper lies, --
Death is but one
and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.
There's Grief of Want
and Grief of Cold, --
A sort they call "Despair";
There's Banishment from native Eyes,
In sight of Native Air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the Cross,
And how they're mostly worn,
Still fascinated to presume
That Some are like My Own.”
― I'm Nobody! Who Are You?
With narrow, probing, Eyes;
I wonder if It weighs like Mine,
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the Date of Mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if They have to try,
And whether, could They choose between,
It would not be, to die.
I note that Some --
gone patient long --
At length, renew their smile.
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil.
I wonder if when Years have piled,
Some Thousands -- on the Harm
Of early hurt -- if such a lapse
Could give them any Balm;
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger Pain
By Contrast with the Love.
The Grieved are many,
I am told;
The reason deeper lies, --
Death is but one
and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.
There's Grief of Want
and Grief of Cold, --
A sort they call "Despair";
There's Banishment from native Eyes,
In sight of Native Air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the Cross,
And how they're mostly worn,
Still fascinated to presume
That Some are like My Own.”
― I'm Nobody! Who Are You?
“Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face.”
― The Lightning Thief
― The Lightning Thief
Emily’s 2023 Year in Books
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