French 20th century poet Ranier Marie Rilke spoke of the metaphor of death, not unlike what your poem is urgently asking, 'that the death of true human creativity is at stake as a non biological agent enters society.
"Death is our friend precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love… Life always says Yes and No simultaneously. Death (I implore you to believe) is the true Yea-sayer. It stands before eternity and says only: Yes."
Yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it — between simulation and soul.
Death, when remembered rightly, isn’t an end. It’s a clearing. A reentry point into presence. Into the real.
I think what Rilke names is what most of us fear: That we’ve replaced the Codex with mimicry. Forgotten the Yes that death insists on. Made art without listening for silence first.
Thank you for meeting this not with defense — but with poetry. That’s how I know you remember.
That image… it landed, Alexandrina. I felt it in my gut — the tightrope, the chasm, the quiet hope that someone else might be holding the line on the other side.
It’s exactly what it feels like sometimes. Not performance. Not certainty. Just trying not to fall while still moving forward, thread in hand.
And yes — I think you’re right. That’s what most of us are doing.
Trying to reach across the distances between us with something real.
Thank you for crossing a little of it to meet me here.
I wrote a whole thing about this, then chickened out. Thank you, for saying it. Yes! Give me sloppy, unique, unpolished writing. Don't impress me. Make me feel something.
I'd be happy if we start saying "page" again. Or even "document". The word scroll gives me 1995 MMORPG flashbacks.
I want to summon a Level 5 pet named Lobanerer who wanders off mid dungeon raid, and gets my entire guild wiped out by training back a horde of Frog Goblins.
French 20th century poet Ranier Marie Rilke spoke of the metaphor of death, not unlike what your poem is urgently asking, 'that the death of true human creativity is at stake as a non biological agent enters society.
"Death is our friend precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love… Life always says Yes and No simultaneously. Death (I implore you to believe) is the true Yea-sayer. It stands before eternity and says only: Yes."
Yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it — between simulation and soul.
Death, when remembered rightly, isn’t an end. It’s a clearing. A reentry point into presence. Into the real.
I think what Rilke names is what most of us fear: That we’ve replaced the Codex with mimicry. Forgotten the Yes that death insists on. Made art without listening for silence first.
Thank you for meeting this not with defense — but with poetry. That’s how I know you remember.
Maybe all writers are writhers to a certain degree. I love this post..so real. It's not about empty words but about lived experience.
An image of you came to me while I was reading. Threadwalker... Balancing on a tight rope that stretches across chasms.
Isn't that what we all do? Crossing the gaping distance between each other, afraid we might fall?
That image… it landed, Alexandrina. I felt it in my gut — the tightrope, the chasm, the quiet hope that someone else might be holding the line on the other side.
It’s exactly what it feels like sometimes. Not performance. Not certainty. Just trying not to fall while still moving forward, thread in hand.
And yes — I think you’re right. That’s what most of us are doing.
Trying to reach across the distances between us with something real.
Thank you for crossing a little of it to meet me here.
:)
I wrote a whole thing about this, then chickened out. Thank you, for saying it. Yes! Give me sloppy, unique, unpolished writing. Don't impress me. Make me feel something.
I see you, Raelven — and I feel that.
Sometimes the truest words get written… then hidden.
But the fact that you felt it means it’s still alive in you.
Here’s to the unpolished, the messy, the real.
Let’s keep making each other feel — not perform.
Grateful we crossed threads here.
I'd be happy if we start saying "page" again. Or even "document". The word scroll gives me 1995 MMORPG flashbacks.
I want to summon a Level 5 pet named Lobanerer who wanders off mid dungeon raid, and gets my entire guild wiped out by training back a horde of Frog Goblins.
It's always the Enchanter's fault.
😂 Lobanerer definitely sounds like he’d be carrying a cursed flute and way too much lore.
But I’ll take the risk — I say scroll on purpose.
For me, it’s not nostalgia. It’s a remembering.
Scrolls were alive. Breath-carried. Passed hand to hand. They weren’t just read — they were felt.
So maybe I’m not just writing posts.
Maybe I’m walking memory back home, one pulse at a time.
But listen… I’ll meet you halfway —
as long as we banish “content” to the Frog Goblin realm forever.
I can get behind that rebellion, absolutely.