From 2764ce38ff89667fc4073fb66cdd634caaffd613 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2015 13:01:16 -0700 Subject: Fix #9 - ekphrastisize some poems For ekphrastic articles, add `ekphrastic` node to YAML metadata. This node includes subnodes `image`, `title`, `alt`, `link`, and `class`. `image` provides a link to the local image--just include the file name with the extension, not the folder (all images should be in /img/.) `title` provides the title of the image, and the alt-text, if there is no `alt` node. `alt`, if it exists, provides the alt text for the image. `link`, if present, wraps the image in an `` tag--it should point to the source web page of the ekphrastic image. `class`, if present, sets the class(es) for the image, for styling. In this commit, I've set `ekphrastic` on the four articles that have them so far: 'The Death Zone,' 'AMBER alert,' 'The moon is gone,' and 'Man.' I've also updated .template.html with the changes, and updated README.md to reflect the changes in YAML structure. --- last-bastion.html | 9 ++++----- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 5 deletions(-) (limited to 'last-bastion.html') diff --git a/last-bastion.html b/last-bastion.html index 01cceec..38e7aa4 100644 --- a/last-bastion.html +++ b/last-bastion.html @@ -37,11 +37,10 @@ -
-

Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle
down the cold and darkened highways of the heart.
They are the last personality left. They are the meek
who inherited the heart, what was left of it.
Without food to cook in new or exciting ways
nor audience to gasp and cackle, the chefs
of the heart quietly waste away while staring
doe-eyed into now-empty Safeway windows
checking under the dusty produce shelves
for something they pray the rats haven’t found yet.

-

Years ago, the economy of the heart boomed
and there was food everywhere. Produce
piled high in pyramids of devotion, meat in
gilded glass cases opulent under fluorescence,
dairy which ran like the mythical river toward
cereals hot and cold. Under it all, thrumming
like great stone wheels on sand under a hot sun
near a river where reeds sang in the wind
the heart produced and gave reward for hard labor.

-

No one knows when it all ended. No one can say
if it was the heart that dried up or the heart’s supply.
Either way, food of the heart became scarcer and scarcer.
People began dying, not of starvation
but of a certain facial expression that could only
be described as desperation. Now
all that are left are the celebrity chefs, last bastion
of a once mighty empire of the heart
are reduced to husks blown dry by wind.

-
+ +

Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle
down the cold and darkened highways of the heart.
They are the last personality left. They are the meek
who inherited the heart, what was left of it.
Without food to cook in new or exciting ways
nor audience to gasp and cackle, the chefs
of the heart quietly waste away while staring
doe-eyed into now-empty Safeway windows
checking under the dusty produce shelves
for something they pray the rats haven’t found yet.

+

Years ago, the economy of the heart boomed
and there was food everywhere. Produce
piled high in pyramids of devotion, meat in
gilded glass cases opulent under fluorescence,
dairy which ran like the mythical river toward
cereals hot and cold. Under it all, thrumming
like great stone wheels on sand under a hot sun
near a river where reeds sang in the wind
the heart produced and gave reward for hard labor.

+

No one knows when it all ended. No one can say
if it was the heart that dried up or the heart’s supply.
Either way, food of the heart became scarcer and scarcer.
People began dying, not of starvation
but of a certain facial expression that could only
be described as desperation. Now
all that are left are the celebrity chefs, last bastion
of a once mighty empire of the heart
are reduced to husks blown dry by wind.