trans-writes

[trans-writes]

this one is feeling relevant again

don't actually remember when i wrote this one. I found it in my drawing board doc when I was looking for ideas to build on lol

transcript under the cut

Trans Anti-Tragedy:

the narrative fucking hates us, babe,

but that’s alright. we’ll break

out, make 

a new one

burn the pages to ash. 

our stars aren’t just crossed they’re

tied up in badge-worthy knots.

fine, if that’s the way they wanna play it.

they always told us to reach for the stars so I will

and i’ll reach until I yank those bastards down.

the fault is in ourselves only in that

we took to believing in the stars. 

c’mon, get up, dust off

nurse your wounds, clean your scrapes,

cool your burns or let me do it for you.

no dying today, darlin’,

that’s the stuff of forever-tomorrow.

now’s the time for walking the train tracks and

for the whole world in your hands and a whole coconut cream pie 

in your backseat at midnight in the parking lot

pale and sweet as the moon.

fate’s a fucking coward and

I’ll tell you a secret—

she’s counting on us to do the dirty work.

self-fulfilling prophecy kinda scheme. 

it depends on us being tragic little fools with martyr complexes.

the thing about fate?

she may be a coward 

but she’s a damn good gambler.

but fuck that, y’know?

you always said you ran on spite so lets put that to the test.

there never was any sword over your head but your own, so cut it down and pick it up.

shake off the puppet strings, doll,

they were only ever cobwebs and complacency.

lets see what you do with all those gangly limbs.

no more service to the story that wants to kill us,

no more dragging ourselves raw and bloody across the pavement

crawling towards a future i’ve decided is evitable

instead we’ll swap clothes,

swap tips,

swap spit if you like,

stop building altars for them to bleed us on, 

start buying spikes,

throw away our silencers and get ourselves a bullhorn.

— r.a.b.

[trans-writes]

spring is here and we are surviving

annasinthewalls / "two on a bridge (2nd edition)", igor krapar / comfortfrogblog / "the green trio", salman toor / anonymous & b0nkcreat / sunsbleeding / satans-poptarts / "light V", autoneurotic / buzzkillgirls / david hettinger / kristina100000 / jennifer pochinski / hopepunk-humanity

[trans-writes]

The Mountain Goats, “Heel Turn 2” // Topaz Winters, “battlefield” // Lilith Kerr (me) // The Mountain Goats, “This Year” // e.e. cummings // Tumblr user @girlroach // Angus & Julia Stone, “Make it Out Alive” // Gang of Youths, “Achilles Come Down” // Gloria Gaynor, “I Will Survive” // Mary Oliver // Dylan Thomas, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” // Richard Siken, “Snow and Dirty Rain” // Lilith Kerr (me) // Lilith Kerr (me), “rebirth” from unloving the knife (2023) // Gwendolyn Brooks, “To the Young Who Want to Die” // Lilith Kerr (me again; sorry, I was running out of material lmao) // Tumblr user @daisies-on-a-cup // The Mountain Goats, “Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1”

[trans-writes]

Hello dear. I am Faisal. I support a campaign for the people of Palestine with the help of our friend Sahar to provide clean water for drinking, food and medicine. Gaza is a disaster area where there is no life. The people of Gaza were helping everyone before the war. It is our humanity’s duty to help them by providing even a small part of the means of life. Your financial support or sharing with others makes them have great hope. The amount donated to the campaign was sold and it was clean water for drinking. Help them because they deserve life. We will document every amount due on the special page.

.

[trans-writes]

Today, thanks to you, the first shipment of clean water was donated to these displaced people. I hope that you will respond to these appeals from their sad hearts. You are our only hope and you deserve thanks from the bottom of our hearts. Thank you, my beloved, for your support for us. I hope that you will donate even a little so that we can continue to donate to them or share this post.

🍉🍉🇵🇸🇵🇸🌹🌹

[trans-writes]

My name is Nuha Riyad Murad, and I am married. I am a mother of two boys and a little girl. Abdulrahman is 15 years old, Amr is 13 years old, and Jana is 7 years old.

And this is our story:

We lived in Gaza and worked and studied hard to provide a decent life for ourselves and our young children.

However, during this journey, we experienced difficult wars starting from the Second Intifada in 2000, followed by four severe wars in 2008, 2012, 2014, and 2021.

But we overcame these wars with our determination to continue living with love and hope. We are a family that loves life, joy, and seeks happiness.

Then came this destructive war on Gaza, which has been ongoing for over six months, leaving us with nothing but destruction, loss, and pain.

The city of Gaza was bombed, including buildings, schools, hospitals, and shops, even the infrastructure.

We faced many hardships during this war, starting from the destruction of our house.

And car, which cost us over $15,000, and the destruction of my husband's workplace, as well as the bombing of my children's schools.

In Gaza, since the beginning of the war, there has been no stable or regular electricity, clean drinking water, reliable internet, or sufficient medical treatment, or the bare minimum of nutrition and food.

Of course, schools have been closed since the first day of the war.

Therefore, my small family and I have decided to leave Gaza in search of a better future for us and our young children.

We will start a new journey to build a good life in another country.

In order for us to leave Gaza through the only border crossing (Rafah), we will need $5,000 per person, approximately $20,000 for the family. We also need another amount to start our own business to provide the essentials of life for ourselves and our young children, approximately $40,000.

Therefore, any support from you will contribute to rebuilding a good life for my family.

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #157 )

@communist-hatsunemiku @marvel @schoolhater @nabulsi27 @el-shab-hussein @aria-ashryver @aces-and-anime @90-ghost @appsa @apollinaresart @notalk-justthought @northgazaupdates2 @palestine @palms-upturned @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @vakarians-babe @vakarian-shepard @sayruq @tamaspapp1996 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @commissions4aid-international @ghost-in-the-corner @4ft11inchofgeekiness @flower-tea-fairies @tamamita @turtlet @thatdiabolicalfeminist @fiishboowl @tooquirkytolose @sabertoothwalrus @decolonize-eyez @kropotkindersurprise @xinakwans @xxgrimmreaperxx2 @charlesoberonn @vague-humanoid @mysharona1987 @memewhore @mens-rights-activia @paper-mario-wiki @tooquirkytolose @workersolidarity @queenangella74 @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @palipunk-blog @soon-palestine @heritageposts @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog

[trans-writes]

Today october 28 ,2024 - the campaign is 😭

295$/55,000$

Hello dear! Iam Nuha from Gaza-Palestine. Thank you for looking at us with compassion and I ask you to support my campaign to help me achieve my goal. I am in dire need of your support now to help my family survive and be safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place both in terms of living and life. I need your financial support to enable me to get the basic needs for my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help a family survive through 🙏🌹

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #157 )

.

[trans-writes]

As a poet, I rarely find contemporary poetry appealing. It often strikes me as either silly or pretentious, or both. Now I've come across yours and I hope that, in the future, others will come across them as well—in school textbooks.

Holy shit. Genuinely I might cry. This is so kind, and I'm so glad you've enjoyed my work!! Thank you so much for taking the time to send this, it's made my week at the absolute least, and it will definitely be bringing a smile whenever I think of it for a long time to come

[trans-writes]

don't actually remember when i wrote this one. I found it in my drawing board doc when I was looking for ideas to build on lol

transcript under the cut

Trans Anti-Tragedy:

the narrative fucking hates us, babe,

but that’s alright. we’ll break

out, make 

a new one

burn the pages to ash. 

our stars aren’t just crossed they’re

tied up in badge-worthy knots.

fine, if that’s the way they wanna play it.

they always told us to reach for the stars so I will

and i’ll reach until I yank those bastards down.

the fault is in ourselves only in that

we took to believing in the stars. 

c’mon, get up, dust off

nurse your wounds, clean your scrapes,

cool your burns or let me do it for you.

no dying today, darlin’,

that’s the stuff of forever-tomorrow.

now’s the time for walking the train tracks and

for the whole world in your hands and a whole coconut cream pie 

in your backseat at midnight in the parking lot

pale and sweet as the moon.

fate’s a fucking coward and

I’ll tell you a secret—

she’s counting on us to do the dirty work.

self-fulfilling prophecy kinda scheme. 

it depends on us being tragic little fools with martyr complexes.

the thing about fate?

she may be a coward 

but she’s a damn good gambler.

but fuck that, y’know?

you always said you ran on spite so lets put that to the test.

there never was any sword over your head but your own, so cut it down and pick it up.

shake off the puppet strings, doll,

they were only ever cobwebs and complacency.

lets see what you do with all those gangly limbs.

no more service to the story that wants to kill us,

no more dragging ourselves raw and bloody across the pavement

crawling towards a future i’ve decided is evitable

instead we’ll swap clothes,

swap tips,

swap spit if you like,

stop building altars for them to bleed us on, 

start buying spikes,

throw away our silencers and get ourselves a bullhorn.

— r.a.b.

[trans-writes]

28-09-2024

transcript under the cut

I only believe in fate when my dad calls

the robot lady says hello, you are receiving a call from [          ], an incarcerated individual at [          ], a kentucky correctional institute.

& look, / i’m not saying i’m a believer in narrative, / but i am saying every road out of town leads back to the empty lot at the end of south main / & this town doesn’t bother with light, / just leads with teeth, / & that too can be a lure.

my father’s voice rattles tinny down the line. / he’s saying something about “people like us” /

& i split apart at that. / i miss whatever he says next, busy trying to shove / the kid in the back, giddy with pride & / the teenager in the passenger seat, shuddering with relief & / the guy behind the wheel with a dread-heavy lead foot / all back into my skin.

the robot lady comes back & says your time is almost up / & i say god don’t i know it. / she says your time is almost up / & i say don’t remind me. / she says your time is almost up / & i say it’s something in the blood, i think. / it’s gotta be in the blood.

the robot lady says your time is almost up & my dad says goodbye, / 

& as always he sounds like a carrion bird, / cock-sure & circling high above. /

i don’t believe in fate, but if i did, i think it would sound like him. 

—r.a.b. // 28-09-2024

[trans-writes]

Hi! I hope you see this and it’s not really a question but just wanted to let you know that I love your poetry and that I read every word.

I turned 17 this year and I’ve been reading your words since I was 13. Often, I revisit some of your poems for comfort. I repeat them like hymns in my head. Sometimes they are sung out loud.

It’s difficult to pronounce you mean to me but I often think about you and when I see that you’ve posted it brings me sweet joy.

I hope you’re doing well and if not that your tomorrow is better than today. Please don’t stop being a dreamer and a lover -from a dreamer and a lover.

I. Genuinely don't know what to say. Thank you so much for sending this. This is one of those messages that's going to live in my head forever.

I'm so so glad that the things I write have meant something to you, and even more glad that they've been a source of comfort. I think that's the kind of thing every writer hopes for— it's certainly something I always hoped I could achieve one day.

It's been a pleasure to see your url in my notes every time I post over these last few years. It's kind of amazing to think that I've had any kind of presence in someones life like that just through my poems.

Congrats on the birthday (however long ago it was). Keep dreaming, and keep loving <3

[trans-writes]

Hi,this is a short lifesaving call.I am desperately in need of help. I am Sakina Abdalla a 32 year old woman living in a tent in Gaza with my two children. I urgently need insulin and medical attention for my type 2 diabetes, especially since I am pregnant and I need a proper insulin sugar balance for the health of my unborn baby.Please help by donating to my fundraising appeal for medical needs.I might have sent this ask to you more than once but kindly take it positive it is my situation that has led me here😭.Any amount will make difference. Click my Donation Link on my pinned post to donate and share with friends❤️.

.

[trans-writes]

02-09-2024

(everyone please bind safely!)

september 

opens itself like a doorway & i don’t step forward but it moves backward & there i am, already past the threshold

it creaks like the swingset where i sat with my brother 

back in the days when the world was empty

& watched my edges turn to smoke,

toeing at the mulch & looking past the chain link

out into the silent fishbowl of the street

september soft & shaking, darting eyes, a knowing look,

like a co-conspirator, or like the pile of pilfered quarters on the dollar store counter & the

holy grail i trade them for, the bundled roll of bandages secreted away,

beautiful beige, transcendent taupe, holding me tight,

crushing my ribs into a shape that i recognize

september larger than life, 

than me

& so full of possibility i’m sick with it

but never of it as i stumble forth on spindly legs forward,

forward, out towards the world

— r. a. b. // 02-09-2024

[trans-writes]

r.a.b. // 15-08-2024

I loved him in August— in the warmth, in the ending. In the mourning before death, in the days thick and slow and golden.

August sickly sweet and tragic // August sticky with nostalgia // August holding its breath // August lying down to die.

I loved him under the late summer sun with joined hands.

I loved him in slow motion,

Loved him with a vintage filter,

Loved him like a faded film reel under the late summer trees where we mourned the leaves before they fell.

I loved him like goodbye.

I loved him like dipping our toes in the cool babbling creek and like the blisters kissed into my hands by the tire swing's weather-beaten rope,

With the rain and dirt baked into it by the same distant sun that beat those stagnant afternoons into my warm, raw skin.

August aching // August muted // August muffled through the water of the pool where we sunk to the bottom and stayed there. We didn't kiss, but we held our faces close. The bubbles streaming from our mouths collided between us and floated up as one.

August looking up to the surface // August breathless // August weightless and warm.

August like the sliver of burnt orange sunset reaching down through the chlorine to pull us, leaden and listless, onto the concrete. 

[trans-writes]

Some new old blackout poetry I did way back in ten seconds ago, also in The Fountainhead // 03-08-2024

Transcript:

Naked at the edge—

Far below, a frozen explosion burst over motionless water,

Immovable stone,

The stillness of battle,

The pause more dynamic than motion.

The lake cut in half.

The rocks unchanged.

The world suspended in nothing, anchored to the cliff.

The sky a body of angles, each curve broken into rigid blades.

The weight of blood.

The wind in the hollow of the sky.

The color of the thing which had happened and the things which now lay ahead.

The days difficult.

The questions faced and action prepared.

Think about it.

Everything was clear because the plan had been set long ago.

Laugh.

Consider it.

Look at the granite.

Laugh.

Stop.

[trans-writes]

Some old blackout poetry I did with a page of The Fountainhead

Transcript:

"Worship" means self-abasement in the degrading realm of emotions.

Man is meaning and intention, life dramatized.

Man-worship is an experience in rare sparks that flash and die,

Lives extinguish.

"Man-worship" attempts to emancipate reason,

To preserve man's identity,

That reality ruled by miracles and whims—

Man's "society"

[trans-writes]

--- r.a.b. // 18-07-2024

Transcript under the cut

“...the idea of losing control is one that fascinates controlled people such as ourselves more than anything.” — donna tartt

I love nothing more than the current—

Though i have no love for the rocks below 

I worship the water pushing me to the edge.

And I curse the shore and the bank and the beach,

The solid ground beneath my feet,

The still air looking to me for direction,

But I worship the wind as a leaf in a hurricane.

I worship the hand as a sword in battle,

Drawn and gripped and swung and sheathed, 

An extension of the one who wields it,

Though I have no love for the blood or the cause,

I worship the arc and the slice and the cry.

And as a horse I worship the bit and the reigns,

As a dog, the collar and leash,

The hand that holds it,

The guiding tug,

The only question and the only answer:

Obey.

— r.a.b. // 18-07-2024