#I'm not really a poet or anything
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Light Pollution
I don't recognize the stars anymore.
Terrestrial life is one of changes
It rises, it falls, it expands, it shrinks
And while the stars are not immutable
Their span is on a much longer scale
These lights above me are not the ones
So constant and familiar
That my two and four-legged ancestors both
Could navigate their way back home by them
These lights are not the twinkling diamonds
Born from the exhale of a warm sigh
That captured the minds and hearts
Of scientists and artisans for centuries
Their sparkle is cold, lifeless metal
And impersonal binary.
Yet these are not the capsules of my grandparents
Crafted with hope and fear and passion
In a time when that vast black above
Was not prime real estate to be simply colonized
But a terrifying unknown to be respected
As well as a new frontier to explore
These are cheap trinkets, baubles
Manufactured en masse then left to rot
A passing whim of a creator
Who thinks himself a god of men
But who has already grown bored
Of his own toys like a child
They form a dirty choker around a blue wife's neck
She has always been faithful to him
Even while their heirs slowly poison her
While he looks longingly at the mistress
Dressed in her tempting shade of blood
Waiting down a long and dangerous cosmic hallway
A new star attempts to rise and join its siblings
Forced upwards by man's sheer will
It rumbles, it roars, it streaks across the sky
Searing red as something goes wrong
The chemical smell of fuel instead of wormwood.
Two hundred, five hundred
A thousand years ago
This would have been regarded as an omen
A sign of the coming end of days.
But the true prophets have been blinded
Their clear skies clouded by these false stars
Placed by a false prophet, a man playing god
A father of lies and broken promises of innovation
And so no one listens and heeds the warnings
Until his stars come falling down
A hundred thousand heralds burning bright
Like the stars they pretended to be
Revelations that are realized
One minute too late
…I don't recognize the stars anymore.
#writing#poetry#Elon Musk#Space X#froggy writes#croak.txt#look I haven't used my writing tag in forever#but tonight I looked up at the sky while taking out trash and didn't recognize the constellations#and this is right after Musk shot off another one of his fucking rockets to boot#so I had a small crisis and ended up feeling some type of way#and writing a poem where I compare Musk to the antichrist is the result#I'm not really a poet or anything#I do not know how professional poets write things#so this may be like...terrible from a technical standpoint#but sometimes words gotta happen#especially when you live 20 minutes away from a billionaire's stupid fucking playground
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témoin, or: guidance for a martyr
and in the morning, when the men come with their pitchforks and flaming torches,
to drag you across the village square and to your violent end,
let it be known that you did not resist.
you have always known this was going to happen.
you have always prayed for this to happen.
to be a woman in this world is to be an open wound.
to have a body like yours is to have a target painted on your back.
you tried to purify your body, turn it into a temple,
but it was never clean enough for that,
so you had to make it a sacrifice instead.
the lamb, after all, is always innocent.
when they strip the skin off your naked body,
when they burn the flesh clean off your bones,
when they cut off your breasts and leave you androgynous as an angel,
you must not scream.
your lips must not make a single sound that is not prayer.
remember that your torment is the divine weapon you wield,
not just another act of senseless violence.
remember that you are a torchbearer, a blaze of righteous truth,
not just another beautiful corpse.
remember that your flesh was rotten from the start.
remember that your body is only holy when it bleeds.
when they rip your still-beating heart from the desecrated ruin of your body,
will they hold one last fragile piece of god in their hands?
will your suffering have been worth it?
you have to believe that. whatever happens, you must have faith.
faith that the sun will rise for you once more.
faith that you will leave your fleshly prison far behind
and ascend to a kingdom of pure light,
where the rivers run golden and the trees bear the sweetest fruit,
where your wounds will be healed and your blood turned to honey,
where pain is but a distant memory.
you must believe.
if you don't, all of this will have been for nothing.
if you don't, your blood will just be blood, soaking into vulgar soil.
even when there is nothing left to hold onto,
no more holiness to claw from your broken bones,
you must believe.
fix your eyes upon the light.
trust that there is a god above
who has seen something to love in your shattered soul
and will not let you fall.
don't lose sight of that light.
maybe every scar you bear
has been a sign from god. maybe you were never a victim,
always a saint. the most tragic thing in the world
is pain without a purpose.
#poetry#spilled ink#poets on tumblr#my writing#martyrs#martyrdom#sacrifice#i'm not religious but the catholic church kinda went off with the concept of martyrdom ngl#anyway i wrote this like half a year ago and i dont really remember what inspired it but i dont *completely* hate it so ig i'll post it#death tw#violence tw#religious abuse tw#gore ment tw#just in case. lmk if you need anything else tagged#sneaky little reference to martyrs (2008) in the title lol
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turning the vague idea of a roman à clef about Todd very, very lightly inspired by the life of Arthur Rimbaud around in the mind
#this isn't really the product of anything other than i've been reading some rimbaud for the first time#and well i don't have a head for poetry but it's really something. i don't love it immediately. but i keep going back and looking for more#obviously in my head there's a fully formed version of this fic and it's called enfant terrible and it is a LITTLE reminiscent#of that Bob Dylan biopic - I'm Not There - because Ben Whishaw is in that playing Rimbaud as well#but realistically this will never happen. ah. a guy can dream#dead poets society#todd anderson#dead poets society fanfic#would Neil be a Verlaine-esque character? i... really don't know????
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Looking for Progress
When I'm home alone,
you'll hear my whistle echoing along the white-washed walls.
Or in the garden, handrake turning soil
singing along to songs invented in my head.
A poem can be a song if only one
sings along instead.
My sister used to want to be a singer,
we’d twirl back and forth together,
making up what we thought were melodies,
but our brother, he’d hear us and scream:
"You sound like you’re skinning cats alive!"
Quick stab to the gut, good twist of the knife,
scarred with stale blood still roiling beneath.
He’d call it a joke but we’d call it a wound,
That’s three against one!
We danced and sang for our amusement,
for his, he cannibalized our dreams.
-Lane Aconite
December 29, 2023
#poetry#my work#lane archives#most of my poems do come to me in song fashion now#so in my head there's always an extended edition where I keep singing#for a sprinkling of personal lore: that's because after my major seizure episodes last yr I had cognitive deficits for months after#most heavily in that my auditory processing issues were way worse & my ability to focus was hugely reduced#before I was a 3 things at once in order to focus person but after my sound sensitivity from migraine was so bad it took 2 months to#even be able to listen to music again#and I found that I couldn't listen to music and do anything else like text or read so I just laid and listened and analyzed songs as poetry#from that I very slowwwly worked up to being able to listen and do tasks so now I'm back to a soundtrack most of the time to focus person#sometimes analyzing songs still distracts me but I used to not even hear the lyrics#Those months recovering alone were a kinda dark time but I really thank them for giving me the time to become a better poet#I think it's definitely notable in the work I wrote before my seizures and afterward like this one
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I have to translate five poems for my portfolio and I picked Nina Mingya Powles because I really vibe with the way she talks about home and heritage and language but I'm also neither from Aotearoa nor Malaysian-Chinese so there's just a lot of research involved in this translation but I also really just want to get the feeling right.
#Most translators don't translate literature and it's totally normal to not really care about what you're translating#As long as you do a good job#And I even heard from some professional lit translators that they don't necessarily care about the work#But I think with poetry translation the connection has to be there#I don't think you have to be a poet to translate poetry but you need some connection to poetry#And like when it comes to heritage I think anyone can translate anything informally#But if this was a published translation the author should get a say in the matter#I don't know Nina Mingya Powles but if someone tried to get the rights for the German Market#And she said she wanted a Chinese German translator that would be her right as the poet I think#But I also know there are plenty of authors who don't care as long as the translator is good and respectful#Anyway I think the ethics of this are fine because it's just for a portfolio#But I'm trying to be really respectful to her heritage because it's an important part of the work#And I have my own different connection to heritage that I explore while translating her work
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uuuuugggggggh, I really want this fic to be ALREADY finished at the same level of quality that I produced for the opening bit
(which i guess expecting it to be done and easy discredits how much work went into the opening bit but still....it’s so so far from being done and i wish it was already done because i want to find someone who is also in love with this idea and analysis and talk to them about it)
#look it's a crossover so it's going to be doomed to obscurity#and the fact that i'm trying to ape danged sir terry pratchett does not make this any easier#BUT NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO WRITE THIS IDEA SO GUESS I'M STUCK WITH WRITING IT#i've got about four fics total...#i've only got about four fics total...but only one is conceivably close to completion#and two are frankly above my skill level (this is one of them)#but...i get the feeling that these things are so niche that i am the only one who's gonna properly speak them into existence#(not necessarily niche as in no one will enjoy them but i also zero expect to find someone else writing them the way i want)#if only i had more energy more often to do anything other than army-drag myself once a week to working on any one of them#rose-ten cyborg dystopia thing that combines my favorite fandom-specific tropes has a monster plot#and i've been avoiding it for over a year because i can't bring myself to write this dang next scene#martha character analysis piece is super dang hard because i'm laser focused on every line (i swear i'm gonna have to be a poet or somthng#because i don't think i'm cut out for novel-ing with the amount of scrutiny that each line gets)#and also the martha piece involves Sensitive Subjects and Heavy Things that require respectful research and so. much. thought#susan character study/science-fangirling piece's end is literally in sight but i keep not writing it because i have to do describing#(i hate describing. it's so hard. stupid plot and things that happened are way harder than conversations or thoughts)#and also the remaining scene and ending involves writing about some kinda heavy stuff#then this crossover piece! which combines all of the problems! except i guess objective length#it's supposed to be only 4 chapters max but it's 4 plotted chapters of distilled prose with heavy subject matter and satire#and it needs aforementioned Plot which i don't care much about inventing but really is necessary for the story to work right#people who say fanfiction is easy are wrong actually
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Love your lil writing pieces in twst! But I'm kinda curious where you get all your writing prompts? Or do you make them up on your own?
hiyaaaa and thank you!!! i'm glad you like them (°◡°♡).:｡
as for your question - yes, i do make them on my own! prompts on my 3sens + drabbles are all mine unless i made disclaimers..... on occasion though, i reblog some stuff that looks interesting to work with, but admittedly i don't get around to using them either lmaooooo (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)
the qs from my q&a series tho i got from the nosebleed club!!!!!! very inspirational.... there's a ton of gorgeous writings being reblogged/posted over there, too! (‘∀’●)♡
#synthezizeher#askdfghjl#i'd shoutout to nosebleedclub but they're mostly a gathering of original works aha....#not that i'm ashamed of writing fics or anything but... yeah!!!! do check them out! i do so often just to ogle at the poetry#i don't do poetry but MAN the poets there??? chef's kiss#plus the i have questions tag gets me going thus the q&a series#i don't really do well with one-liner prompts or straightforward ones tbh..... not like i prefer thinking deep or anything but#vague prompts actually fit better with me
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on a scale of 1-1000 how pretentious is it of me to start my hero academia fanfiction with charles bukowski poetry
#was this how you thought your poetry would be used you misogynistic old shit?!#hope you're rolling over in your grave right now#(affectionate)#look i love his work and he's probably one of the most impactful poets in MY life#but also he's kind of an alcoholic dickweed whose fame got to his head#ANYWAY#if anyone for any reason is reading this....#the reason i'm saying its a flop is because it has WAY less hits than any of my other fanfictions#even those that i wrote for practically nonexistant fandoms (like cxgf and mlqc)#much less anything i've written for mha#it doesnt REALLY matter because i'm writing it for myself not for recognition or praise or whatever#BUUUUTTTTTT also kinda hurts because i think this is some of my better writing#maybe i'm becoming annoying and pretentious like bukowski#in two months i will have been writing for bkdk for three slutty slutty years
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1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...
🧔🏻♂️ queerqueg Follow
the franklin expedition is dead as hell
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan
10,558 notes
👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all
#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh
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🎨 asherbrowndurand
Just painted this
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ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927
RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed
🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow
HERITAGE POST
📝 shakespearesforehead Follow
How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol
82,170 notes
🌄 loyalromantic Follow
poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/
#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect
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🎀 thefopdiaries Follow
I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling
📜 bartlebi-thescrivener
i think i hauve consumption
112 notes
🐋 whaler4life
They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME
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🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow
I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense
#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo
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🤵🏻♂️ byronicherotournament Follow
🙈 butchbronte Follow
Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep
🙈 butchbronte Follow
I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily
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👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon
#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting
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👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH
#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....
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⭐️ newamerican
Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol
#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure
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Hey, I was wondering if you could do a really fluffy Mattheo Riddle always cuddling and touching you (especially late nights in the slytherin common room), I love all your posts, especially the Mattheo riddle content
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───
Pairing: touchy!Mattheo riddle x reader
Warnings: Mattheo whining about you not being glued to him, a mention of Y/N
Word count: 853
Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!
Disclaimer 2: Made this by listening to the smiths
"2:35 AM". :☆｡ﾟ. ───
You love quiet moments like this. The whole group was just sitting around, everyone doing their own thing in each other's company. Pansy is coloring her nails while sitting on the floor, Theo is reading Dead poets society in the big armchair across from you, Enzo is laying on the floor in front of the couch you're sitting on, twirling his wand and staring at the ceiling, Blaise is making a mixtape next to the fireplace, Draco is studying for potions at the small table your feet are laid on, Tom is scheming about how to ruin some poor souls life and Mattheo is turning a feather into all sorts of things (currently a pigeon) whilst annoying draco. You are just watching your friends and humming along to the earworm in your head, while trying not to fall asleep.
Your heavy eyes fixate on Mattheo and the way he pokes his tongue into his cheek in focus. A singular curl falls into his face and you have the urge to stand up, walk over and move it away as if he couldn't do it himself. He doesn't seem to notice you're staring at him. Pansy does.
"God, Y/N this is disgusting. We get it you have a boyfriend," she says while fake gagging. You startle out of your staring and instead fumble with an answer that won't get more annoyed groans from the boys around you. "I wasn't even doing anything!"
Draco perks up from the corner to give his just lovely input "Just making love eyes at our local idiot over there." You roll your eyes. "Shut up and study"
And if this wasn't already uncomfortable of course Mattheo has something to say too "Why so embarrassed, love? I don't mind" He smirks and swiftly gets hit in the head with Theo's book causing you to snort out a laugh and the others to join in while Mattheo's staring daggers at a smirking Theo. "You know what, for that i'm going to flirt even harder."
Pansy laughs at theo's misery when suddenly she realizes she's going to have to witness you two being all lovey dovey, "What have we gotten ourselfs into"
You watch Mattheo stand up, step over Enzo on the ground and settle down next to you. You smile and let out a small giggle as he kisses you. As your lips connect a warm and fuzzy feeling washes over your body. It's comfortable and familiar. You can hear enzo gag and for some reason that is the funniest thing you've heard all day. You break the kiss by breaking into a fit of giggles that only get stronger when you see Mattheo's amused look.
Chuckling, he pulls you into his lap while you keep laughing. "Love, are you high?" You look up in shock, "No!"
"Then what is happening right now?"
You shrug and hide your face in his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body. Your limps start to relax and you let yourself melt into him. Humming in comfort when he gives you a little kiss on the crown of your head you let yourself fall asleep.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───
When you open your eyes again, they're a bit tacky and you have to blink a few times to realize where you are. Mattheo has apparently carried you up to his dorm and is now cuddling you in his bed. Your whole body feels mushy as you stretch and turn in Mattheo's arms making him grumble in his sleep. You look at the cherry red, heart-shaped clock on his bedside table. You bought it for him at a little market in your hometown, seeing as red's his favorite color and the clock was just too cute not to buy. You were kinda scared to give it to him, thinking it was too 'girly' but he was so happy that you even thought of him over the holidays that he (in his words) was forced to kiss the living shit out of you. It's currently reading at 2:35 AM.
You try to wiggle out of his arms to get your wand to charm yourself some water into the empty glass next to the clock. But Mattheo's strong arms only grip your waist tighter when he realizes you're trying to get out. He kisses your neck and whispers "Stay, love," into your skin. "Téo, darling, I need some water." He whines and pulls you impossibly closer. "You can get water in the morning." He keeps leaving light kisses all over your neck and shoulder to try and coax you into staying and any other day it would've worked but your mouth is feeling more disgusting by the second. "Where's my wand?"
"Left it downstairs," he mumbles, his breath tickling your neck and making you giggle lightly. "Watcha laughing 'bout?" You squirm in his hold as his hands start traveling up your sides, knowing how ticklish you are. "Téo! Téo, stop it, you're tickling me." You breathe out between laughs. He kisses your neck, "That's kinda the point."
You end up forgetting about the water.
#fluff#headcanon#writing#slytherin boys#slytherin#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo x you#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle
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the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.
i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.
this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."
your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.
what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).
i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"
i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?
i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.
but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.
anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.
google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."
yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.
orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -
the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.
the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.
#spilled ink#ty nat#ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')
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The Riddle of the Sphinx
“A ‘Monster,’ you call me? A monster am I!
A lion that riddles and soars through the sky,
A creature removed from the land of its birth,
And set like a plague, now to ravage the earth.
O Hero, you see here the Monster you seek,
A terror upon the unwise and the weak!
So now, by my claw-tip or else by my voice:
The Hero can make, in his death, his own choice.
You come for a riddle—an interesting quest:
A riddle’s a mirror that’s also a test.
It weighs out your wisdom, and seeks for your skill
It holds you against my own Monstrous, cruel will.
Turn away now, and you’ll live a safe life
Free from your fate filled with ruin and strife.
To cross wits with me? Is to fail and to die—
And here you shall perish, or else here shall I.
The answer’s a monster, or else it’s a name—
Though not one that’s yet been promoted to fame—
I’ll tell you its story, and then you must say
What creature it is that thus lives in its day.
In the morning, on four legs, it crawls on the ground
And only survives if the monster is found
By those who will help it and free it from chains,
And teach it to manage and nurture its pains.
Yet when the sun watches from noontime on high,
The monster, on two legs, walks under the sky
O—Witness its power! Its glory! Its woe!—
It can strike down its father or strike down a foe.
In the evening, however, the creature goes blind:
It feeds its own eyes to its fracturing mind,
The monster on three feeble legs greets the night—
With barely a remnant of its former might.
Yet over the world stands this monster astride—
As feared for its power as loathed for its pride!
So, answer me, Wanderer—if you now can!
O, what is this monster?”
#ben's poetry#I'm pretty happy with this right now tbh#like I'm never gonna be a professional poet or anything#but this is a decent little piece of work#I think at least#I considered another ending which I think I prefer but which is maybe 'nonstandard' in some ways#the last two lines would be#'So answer me wanderer---Speak now and see!//O what is this monster?"#the next time I put this somewhere I'll use that one#I'm just not brave enough to use it right now lmao#the meter of this was such a pain#it's like a semi-anapestic tetrameter and that is really not the natural beat of English#but also I think that feeling is necessary for what I want to evoke here#man I could write another three paragraphs of author's notes here
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so i'm in the middle of a dead poets society breakdown/spiral/hyperfixation/etc, and something I really love about the movie is how nothing changes, if that makes sense. it's a story about a system, and it says, "this is the system. this is who it hurts. the end." there's no happy ending. there's no fix. the characters are left broken by the corruption around them, and by the time someone stands up for what's right, it's too late, the damage has been done, the people have been hurt, and nothing can undo it.
i think that's what i find so fascinating about it. in a lot of modern movies and tv shows, when confronting conformity and the systems that perpetuate it, they tear it down somehow. they make history, if that makes sense. dead poets society isn't history. nothing astronomical happened, truly—it's just a blip in time, a sequence of short events that really weren't important to anyone or anything. it won't be in any history books. no one will remember it fifty, sixty years down the line.
but it happened. and it mattered. and now that you know, now that you've been warned, it's time for you to make history:)
#anderperry#todd anderson#neil perry#dead poets society#dps boys#dps fandom#dps headcanons#dead poets#dead poets fandom#dead poets headcanons
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It’s really sad that, with the way everyone's acting leading up to its release, I genuinely don’t think the tortured poets department is gonna be spoken about outside the context of Joe. Every conversation about the album will probably revolve around him and what he supposedly did or didn’t do, with minimal talk about Taylor’s artistry or anything remotely important and inspired. and i'm not limiting this to the fandom bubble, which is disheartening enough, but professional reviews will also probably mention it. that's depressing.
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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 ( 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 !! )
𝟭. improve your writing skills ( ✒️ )
i feel that not everyone has the perception of how important it is to know how to write. you don't have to be a poet, nor the new emily brontë, but fluid, conscious, rich writing makes the difference. really. you could write a page without saying anything at all, but if that damn page is written good and smoothly, then you can be sure that you will get extra points. take the time to improve your writing skills, the best advice i have for doing so is reading. read as much as you can. read novels (non-fiction in this case doesn't help because the content is preferred rather than the form), read contemporary authors – you don't necessarily have to read sophocles' tragedies, but read quality stuff. expand your vocabulary, your knowledge of syntax, learn to use punctuation! and then write, tell stories, write love letters, write reviews of films, books, cultural festivals, open a blog on tumblr and write to practice, reread what you write ad nauseam, until it is perfect, until the form of your essay is pulitzer prize worthy.
bonus some of my favourite authors (tell me in the comments about yours!): ian mcewan, banana yoshimoto, haruki murakami, george orwell, josé saramago, albert camus, khaled hosseini, hanya yanagihara
𝟮. develop critical thinking ( 💭 )
if you have always studied passively by absorbing information and vomiting it onto a test sheet then you have wasted your time. taking on information is not enough, you need to know how to rework it and develop your own idea about it. especially in the arts and literature one may disagree with certain information provided by a textbook. developing critical thinking is not easy, especially due to the school system that teaches us to standardize thinking. always consult all available sources on a given topic, compare them, analyze contradictions. it might be difficult and tiring – our brain spends more energy processing two conflicting pieces of information than processing two pieces of information that agree – but it will be worth it. by practicing critical thinking and improving your argumentation skills, you will not only be able to improve in your studies, becoming able to present complex topics and make interdisciplinary connections, but also in daily life, you will become much less influenced and manipulated by external information.
𝟯. find yourself an interest ( 🌷 )
it could be anything, but find an interest that excites you and you enjoy and do research about it. watch videos, documentaries, read articles. it doesn't have to be school-related, it must be an external topic that you are passionate about and that allows you to rediscover the joy of studying and learning every time school seems to suffocate it. sometimes i'm not in the mood to study for exams, so i dedicate myself to my personal research and finally find my spark, my seek for knowledge. for example, my interest is true crime, it has always fascinated me since i was little, but yours could be wild animals, makeup, comics, ships, planes, ocean flora, literally anything. there is no constraint.
𝟰. analyze your mistakes and recognize your wrongs ( 🫒 )
there is no shame in making mistakes. everyone makes mistakes, we are human, but the real sin is getting bogged down in mistakes, refusing to acknowledge them, and continuing to make them again and again. we should be continually growing, continually discovering ourselves, both intellectually and emotionally. how many of you were the "gifted kid" when you were little and then grew up into burned out high school / uni students desperately seeking academic validation? there comes a time when talent isn't enough, you have to put in the effort, and this doesn't make you less intelligent or gifted, in fact, quite the opposite. dedicating time and attention to your personal and intellectual growth also means having to ruminate on your mistakes. it's scary, but it's the most effective way if you really want to improve. take a notebook and at the end of the day reflect on the highlights and the wrongs, what you could have done better, where you would like to push forward tomorrow, what you achieved today. did you make a mistake? first ask yourself why and then look for a way to solve the problem, make every bad moment a lesson, a brick on which to build the version of you you wanto to become tomorrow.
𝟱. don't be afraid of doing researches ( 🧃 )
the amount of fake news and misinformation online is appalling. opening any app like tiktok or instagram we are inundated with information that is often (not always, but not so rarely) inaccurate. don't be afraid to conduct your own research, if you have time to mindlessly scroll through tiktok you will also have five minutes to read an article regarding that information provided. don't know the meaning of a word? look it up before using it. not sure about a piece of information? check it before using it in your argumentation. in the age of immediate access to data we have no excuse to be superficial.
𝟲. master communication ( ♟️ )
mastering communication is essential in both personal and professional realms. it's the cornerstone of building meaningful relationships, whether it's conveying ideas effectively in academia or fostering connections in the workplace. developing strong communication skills not only enhances your ability to articulate thoughts but also empowers you to listen actively, empathize with others, and resolve conflicts constructively. ultimately, honing these skills cultivates confidence, credibility, and success in all aspects of life.
𝟳. push yourself out of your comfort zone ( 🧸 )
build your confidence. confidence is uncomfortable. don't be afraid of it. you are young, this is the right time to experiment, take risks, discover who you really are. this is the best time for you to do those things that you would otherwise never do, you don't want to regret later in life that you didn't accept that scholarship, that trip abroad, that job opportunity, because you didn't feel comfortable enough. do things that take you out of your comfort zone until everything becomes your comfort zone. go on solo dates, be a social butterfly, tell the girl at the bookstore you love her t-shirt, go to the theater alone, eat at a restaurant alone, take that trip. if it goes badly, you'll only have one funny story to tell.
𝟴. stay informed about the news (but not too much!) ( 🌍 )
this might be controversial, but: stay informed about the news, just don't overdo it. personally, i am an easily influenced person and i realized that being constantly exposed to the bad things happening in the world had drained me and made me terribly depressed. don't get me wrong, you need to be informed about what's happening in the world and in your country, just being constantly surrounded by horrible news repeated ad nauseam on TV programs is of no use. be aware.
#college#education#school#academia#note taking#student#study aesthetic#study blog#study inspiration#study motivation#academic validation#chaotic academia#light academia#dark academia#university student#architecture student#i should study#study tips#student life#study notes#studyblr#studyinspo#studyspo#uni student#university life#uni life#university#smart#be smart#become smarter
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Just spent a couple hours digging into this book. I'm not even sure what has worse environmental impacts, the paper the book is made of or the opinions printed within.
Is "post-colonial" literary theory a joke? It's distressing that a book printed in 2021 by a reputable academic press can be so painfully Eurocentric, and I mean PAINFULLY. The philosophical and literary frameworks drawn upon in most chapters are like what some British guy in 1802 would come up with. In most of the chapters, every framework, terminology, and example is inseparably fused to Latin, Greek, and/or Christian philosophers, myths and texts, even down to the specific turns of phrase. You would think only Europeans had history or ideas until the 20th century.
Don't get me wrong, non-european and even specifically anti-colonial sources are used, and I don't think all the writers are white people, but...that's what's so weird and off-putting about it, most of the book as a whole utterly fails to absorb anything from non-European and in particular anti-colonial points of view. The chapters will quote those points of view but not incorporate them or really give their ideas the time of day, just go right back to acting like Plato and Aristotle and Romantic poets are the gold standard for defining what it means to be human.
In brief, the book is trying to examine how literature can shed light on the climate crisis, which is funny because it completely fails to demonstrate that literature is good or helpful for the climate crisis. Like that is for sure one major issue with it, it shows that people *have* written stuff about climate change, but it sure doesn't convince you that this stuff is good.
Most of the works quoted are rather doomerist, and a lot of the narrative works specifically are apocalypse tales where most of Earth's population dies. The most coherent function the authors can propose that literature fulfills is to essentially help people understand how bad things are. One of the essays even argues that poetry and other creative work that simply appreciates nature is basically outdated, because:
“One could no longer imagine wandering lonely as a cloud, because clouds now jostle in our imaginations with an awareness of atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide and other atmospheric pollutants” (Mandy Bloomfield, pg. 72)
Skill issue, Mandy.
The menace of doomerism in fiction and poetry is addressed, by Byron Caminero-Santangelo, on page 127 when he references,
the literary non-fiction of a growing number of authors who explicitly assert, some might even say embrace, the equation between fatalistic apocalyptic narrative and enlightenment…they are authoritative in their rejection of any hope and in their representation of mitigatory action as the cliched moving of deckchairs on a sinking ship
He quotes an essay “Elegy for a country’s seasons” by Zadie Smith, who says: “The fatalists have the luxury of focusing on an eschatological apocalyptic narrative and on the nostalgia of elegy, as well as of escape from uncertainty and responsibility to act." Which is spot-on and accurate, but these observations aren't recognized as a menace to positive action, nor is the parallel to Christian thought that eagerly looks forward to Earth's destruction as a cathartic release from its pain made fully explicit and analyzed. Most of the creative works referenced and quoted in the book ARE this exact type of fatalistic, elegiac performance of mourning.
I basically quit reading after Chapter 11, "Animals," by Eileen Crist, which begins:
The humanization of the world began unfolding when agricultural humans separated themselves from wild nature, and started to tame landscapes, subjugate and domesticate animals and plants, treat wild animals as enemies of flocks and fields, engineer freshwater ecologies, and open their psyches to the meme of the ‘the human’ as world conquerer, ruler and owner.
This is what I'm talking about when I say it's dripping Eurocentrism; these ideas are NOT universal, and it's adding nothing to the world to write them because they fall perfectly in line with what the European colonizing culture already believes, complete with the lingering ghost of a reference to the Fall of Man and banishment from the Garden of Eden. It keeps going:
“Over time, the new human elaborated a view of the animal that ruptured from the totemic, shamanic and relational past.”
Okay so now she's introducing the idea of progression from shamanic nature-worshipping religions of our primitive past...hmm I'm sure this isn't going anywhere bad
“While humanity has largely rejected the colonizing project with respect to fellow humans, the occupation of non-human nature constitutes civilization’s last bastion of ‘normal’ colonialism. A new humanity is bound sooner or later to recognize and overthrow a colonialism of ‘nature,’ embracing a universal norm of interspecies justice.” (pg. 206)
OKAY????
Not only denying that colonialism still exists, but also saying that humans' relationship with nature constitutes colonialism??
Embracing limitations means scaling down the human presence on demographic and economic fronts…(pg.207)
ope, there's the "we have to reduce the human population"
Embracing limitations further mandates pulling back from vast expanses of the natural world, thus letting the lavishness of wild (free) nature rule Earth again” (pg. 207)
aaaaaaand there's the "we have to remove humans from wild nature so it can be freeeeeee"
don't get me wrong like I am a random white person with no particular expertise in anti-colonialist thought but I think this is an easy one. I'm pretty sure if your view of nature is that colonialism involving subjugating humans doesn't exist any more and actually humans existing in and altering nature is the real colonialism so we should remove humans from vast tracts of earth, your opinion is just bad.
Anyways y'all know I have an axe to grind against doomerism so it was probably obvious where this was going but good grief.
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