EXILED: Crooked Rose Woods

Posted to Instagram on 07.04.24:

https://www.instagram.com/p/C9A0wUjSOfg/


"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep..."

The poem is a Robert Frost poem

Something irrelevant… there was a choir song bt Eric Whitacre called “Sleep”, the lyrics were originally supposed to be from the poem but Whitacre had to change the lyrics.

I know the poem is probably the important part of this, but the guy stuck in the tree stump is really freaking me out lol near fear unlocked I guess

The original poem here, Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” initially reads like a relaxing scene - a man stops for a moment on his journey to take in the snowfall near a cabin in the woods. On a deeper level it’s a discussion on the inevitability of death and the pull one can feel towards it. “Sleep” in the final lines is usually interpreted as a synonym for death, endless sleep.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

Or similarly…

“Survival isn’t guaranteed — nor is it the point.”

In my search on tree stumps, I found a poem by a man named Hugh Sykes Davies titled "‘In the stump of the old tree...’" which is pretty spooky. seems unrelated, but I liked it so I want to share!

In the stump of the old tree, where the heart has rotted out, there is a hole the length of a man’s arm, and a dank pool at the bottom of it where the rain gathers, and the old leaves turn into lacy skeletons. But do not put your hand down to see, because

in the stumps of old trees, where the hearts have rotted out, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and dank pools at the bottom where the rain gathers and old leaves turn to lace, and the beak of a dead bird gapes like a trap. But do not put your hand down to see, because

in the stumps of old trees with rotten hearts, where the rain gathers and the laced leaves and the dead bird like a trap, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and in every crevice of the rotten wood grow weasel’s eyes like molluscs, their lids open and shut with the tide. But do not put your hand down to see, because

in the stumps of old trees where the rain gathers and the trapped leaves and the beak and the laced weasel’s eyes, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and at the bottom a sodden bible written in the language of rooks. But do not put your hand down to see, because

in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are holes the length of a man’s arm where the weasels are trapped and the letters of the rook language are laced on the sodden leaves, and at the bottom there is a man’s arm. But do not put your hand down to see, because

in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are deep holes and dank pools where the rain gathers, and if you ever put your hand down to see, you can wipe it in the sharp grass till it bleeds, but you’ll never want to eat with it again.

As always, just throwing things into the void in case it sparks anything for anyone: Robert Frost had a poem titled "The Rose Family" which caught my eye due to "Crooked Rose" and the family who lives in the woods.

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose,
And the pear is, and so’s
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose –
But were always a rose.

Interesting that Darren has posted the same picture but his caption is:
“Kansas City… @exiledkc… this Halloween, we ain’t playing.”

https://www.instagram.com/p/C9BD8i8yeXb ... ZiZjQ0eg==

haleywilde wrote: ↑Thu Jul 04, 2024 3:01 pm I know the poem is probably the important part of this, but the guy stuck in the tree stump is really freaking me out lol

Not armless clown girl?! Like… no thank you