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What was unseen in the assassin’s silhouette was not mere stealth,
but the supreme ability of unresolved trauma
to project its unowned shadow.
Jung described this as the scapegoat phenomenon:
the psyche, unable to face its own contents,
casts them outward onto a mirror.
Those who reflect most faithfully..
who reveal what others most fear to acknowledge..
become the chosen targets.

And yet, the silhouette was there, in plain sight.
Had anyone looked up, or turned back,
the rooftop figure would have been exposed
before the finality of the killshot.
But blindness is often willful.
It is easier to condemn the mirror
than to confront the shadow.

This is participation mystique inverted:
a collective possession that feeds on denial,
mistaking projection for enlightenment.
In such a state, the more accurate the reflection,
the more violent the rejection.

Hello Poetry,  through the  writings
and behaviors of the inaccurately self-named “enlightened ones,”
has become a digitized Lord of the Flies novel.
Here the shadow unowned within
makes its supreme projections
onto those who mirror back the very truths most refused.
And in this inverted theater,
those who dare to stand in the light know the risk:
to be mocked, scapegoated, or silenced.

Only weeks before his assassination,
Charlie gave voice to this risk with startling clarity.
In an interview, almost casually,
he foresaw the violence to come.
The cowboy-hatted host.. deeply respectful
but unable to hide his nervous chuckle..
couldn’t contain the humanity of the moment.
But what sounded like a jarring aside was prophetic.
His own death proved how perilous it is
to mirror back to the world what it most refuses to face.

https://youtube.com/shorts/cn1Hlmepjzs?si=xBF_9hv6r0H3O0sw


With an etching tool of contempt,
he scribbled his verse upon the brass..
the 30-06 casing itself becoming his page.
Chambered into the Mauser, set high above the herd,
it was not lead that truly flew, but shadow.
The round carried a darker payload:
cowardice, projection, envy, and fear..
all the unowned unknown within,
hurled outward and named as strength.
What struck was not flesh alone, but the mirror..
for every shot fired in hatred is nothing
but the poet of death inscribing
his refusal to face the truth of himself.

Thus Hello Poetry becomes a parable of the age:
where verse can be weapon or witness,
where the coward cloaks his projection in the pretense of light,
and where the mirror itself is targeted..
because it reflects what they cannot bear to see.

And so the seduction grows. Their “poetry” is not art but incantation,
a counterfeit enchantment meant to draw others into orbit.
They parade it as “consensual,”
as if their words carried some hidden power of dark magic,
when in truth it is only the glamour of unhealed shadow.
For those who resist, their verse twists further,
becoming ritual.. not of beauty, but of control.
They posture as sages, yet their chants are little more
than incoherent babble mistaken for wisdom.
The herd expands not by illumination,
but by spellbound imitation of the blind.

And so it stands: Hello Poetry is not an isolated tragedy,
but a small stage upon which the greater play unfolds..
a digitized echo of the world itself,
where the unowned shadow writes its violence in verse,
and the battle between projection and truth continues without cease.

Elliott no longer owns the site;
it is now ruled by those who wield the same contempt
rising in the world itself..
the cowardice, the fear, the deep envy
of those who dare to hold the mirror clearly.

A true family man... kind-hearted and well-meaning..
poor Elliot has over time just become their puppet;
and his one-time long-ago beautiful creation
unwillingly has become just another poorly inscribed casing.

Pray for that good man,
that he either gathers the strength to shutter this place
or to cleanse it of its parasites.
For as it stands, his once-beautiful creation has been seized,
turned into another casing scrawled with the graffiti of the cowardly..
fired endlessly at the mirrors of truth.

I love you too much to force you to life.

We are creatures of constant awe, curious at beauty, at leaf and blossom, at grief and pleasure, sun and shadow," U.S. poet laureate Ada Limón writes in her new poem that will fly to Jupiter's moon Europa aboard NASA's Europa Clipper mission.

"And it is not darkness that unites us, not the cold distance of space, but the offering of water, each drop of rain."
The poem, unveiled at an event tonight at the Library of Congress, is going to be engraved in Limón's handwriting and affixed to the spacecraft, expected to launch in October 2024, Miriam writes.
The big picture: The Europa Clipper mission follows in the tradition of others — like NASA's Voyagers — that have sent pieces of art representing humanity into the cosmos.

The poem uses water as a thread that binds Earth — and all of its humans — to Europa, a moon with an ocean beneath its icy shell.
For Limón, writing this poem was a very human endeavor.

"The thing I think that makes me the most beautifully overwhelmed is the idea of all the humans that are going to read it," she tells Axios.
The poem, called "In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa," is featured on a NASA webpage where people can sign up to send their names to Europa with the spacecraft.
"I think to have it feel collective is really, really extraordinary to me, because it does feel like it's not my poem," Limón says. "It does feel like a collective poem. And as soon as I wrote it, it felt like oh, this belongs to Earth. This is our poem for Earth."
Between the lines: Sending this poem to Europa is an "evolution" of NASA's Golden Record, which is flying through space aboard the Voyager spacecraft, Robert Pappalardo, Europa Clipper project scientist, tells Axios.

Those records contain sounds from Earth — including music, laughter and animal noises — as well as a map of where we are in the galaxy. They are now billions of miles away, flying through interstellar space.
"This is an outgrowth in that we're not going to the stars," Pappalardo says. "There's no message to aliens here. This is purely a message to ourselves and a symbolic message to Europa."

Written to Anna Von Hausswolf's song of the same title.

this one is about a low point in my sobriety journey.

nope nope nope, i know where this is going, and it needs to stop,