#perhaps the world ends here
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Joy Harjo “Perhaps the World Ends Here”
#possibly my favorite poem ever#poetry#joy harjo#perhaps the world ends here#follow me on instagram @orangeblossom
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food as a love language...
what to cook right now, sam sifton // お仕事, @tomokohara // oranges, gary soto // rusty love from post partum portraits, tammy rae carland // @jacebeleren // iftar (breaking fast) (2020), dir. mike mosallam // @hakkiofficial // perhaps the world ends here, @diabolicjoy // @naomigoesferaldotcom // in the kitchen - helena janecic
#parallel#web weaving#nyt#food#love#excerpts#quotes#art#painting#oranges#gary soto#kitchen#tammy rae carland#jaceberelen#iftar#mike mosallam#perhaps the world ends here#pottery#parallels#etc
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This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
— Joy Harjo, from "Perhaps the World Ends Here," Weaving Sundown in a Scarlet Light
#quote#joy harjo#poetry#weaving sundown in a scarlet light#out of my collection#Perhaps the World Ends Here
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supernatural // perhaps the world ends here [redux]
“perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.”
poem // music
#supernatural#spn amvs#kellyscabinamv#spnamvarchive#Poetrynatural#poetry#perhaps the world ends here#wanted to update this for SO long!!!!!#better quality voice over!!!#subtitles!!!!#better colouring!!!!!
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Perhaps the World Ends Here
By Joy Harjo // Supernatural
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that
on what it means to be human.
At this table we gossip,
as they put their arms around our children.
They laugh with us
has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
We have given birth on this table,
At this table we sing with joy,
We pray of suffering and remorse.
These are just snippets of the entire poem that I made for @deangloriam, @danger-and-diatribes, and @pinkmarshmelo which you can read here!
Full poem below
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
#supernatural#love is stored in the kitchen#happy birthday dean#spn web weaving#dean#january 24#im 44 dude#or im 46 dude if thats how you roll#poemnatural#dean winchester#joy harjo#perhaps the world ends here
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In honor of the good memories, quiet and riotous memories, heartbreaking memories; all memories centered around the powerful kitchen table, I share with you one of my favorite poems.
May your Thanksgiving be exactly what you need it to be. May your table be “a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.”
xo
****
Perhaps the World Ends Here
BY JOY HARJO
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
.
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The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
- Perhaps the World Ends Here, Joy Harjo
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Perhaps the World Ends Here
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human.
We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children.
They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
— Joy Harjo
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"Perhaps the World Ends Here" by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
[src]
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Perhaps the World Ends Here
Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
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for the amount of time i spend thinking about erika ishii, i do not post about them NEARLY enough
everything i've ever seen them in, they have been fully dialed in. they understand the genre, they understand the character they're playing, and they NEVER. FUCKING. MISS
my current dnd character is actually based on multiple characters of erika's that i enjoy. my character is a witch (like ame of worlds beyond number fame [thank you to the witch class playtest]) but she is also a brewer who grows weed and shrooms, and deals them, and does them (and her personality is very much modeled off of danielle barkstock in dimension 20's the seven)
i feel that many of my favorite moments from erika are often focused on other characters. but many of those character moments would not have been possible without erika's incredible roleplay and sense for storytelling
and when the moment IS focused on erika's character? spellbinding. groundbreaking. from ame talking to orima in the overgrown shrine to danielle getting a nat 20 at the masquerade ball, i always fall into the scene and feel it so deeply due to erika's skill and poise and commitment to the story being told
tldr i think erika ishii is incredibly talented and wonderful
#didn't mention ava burrow's end here BUT I HAVE WRITTEN POSTS ABOUT HER#SHE ALSO MAKES ME INSANE#k tanaka as well#erika simply has a gift#also they're SO. FUCKING. HOT!!!!!!!!!!!#but mostly all the other stuff#the fact that my witch character is based on characters they have played is. perhaps not surprising#but i should talk about it more#bc it is so true and very obvious to people who have listened to wbn and watched the seven#they're amazing and that's the point of this post#erika ishii#worlds beyond number#wbn pod#wbn spoilers#wbn: www#the wizard the witch and the wild one#wwwo#wwwo spoilers#ame wbn#ame the witch#dimension 20#d20#d20 the seven#danielle barkstock
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Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
Joy Harjo, Perhaps the World Ends Here
#Perhaps the World Ends Here#Joy Harjo#quote#quotes#perhaps#world#kitchen#laughing#crying#eating#last#sweet
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I love space SO much. And it absolutely terrifies me too. If I wasn't terrified of space, and I was good at math, I'd be working at NASA. But even then I won't ever get to explore the galaxy in my lifetime, because we are nowhere near travel that equals the speed of light, and even then, lightspeed is still painfully slow on the cosmic scale.
Did you know that, no matter where we are in humanity, our sun will begin to die billions of years from now? We may all be dead and gone, or we may have evolved into something unrecognizable, or we may still be around. But one day, the Earth will be engulfed by the sun. Or it'll be thrown out of orbit. It'll be the end for Earth. We may have figured out how to go beyond the speed of light by then. We could have discovered that the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory - wormholes - is real, and we could have used that to bend spacetime to our will and find somewhere new to call home, potentially even new universes.
But we don't know. Earth will likely become uninhabitable before the natural lifespan of our sun can engulf it, as a result of our very human mistakes and actions and impacts.
And... this is just a longwinded way of me saying, that's what Starfield is about.
It's about being human in the face of the divine, in the face of being so so so small in the universe. It's about conflict, the tragedy of it, how it can so easily destroy our humanity before time itself has the chance to. It's about looking at the petty wars between the UC and the Collective and going, "what are they doing? There is plenty of space for us all. This is only our galaxy, what about beyond?" It's about humanity pushing forward for answers about the universe and how they will always resort to the same petty violence over those answers. It's about how you can decide what you do with those answers. It's about looking in the eye of sure destruction that will certainly come one day, and say, "I will live and love in spite of it."
You can certainly become like the Hunter. You can continuously perpetuate the cycle of very human violence because that is all that is left to you, because you have embraced the uselessness of it all. Or you can become like the Pilgrim. You can settle down and bring love and kindness to others, and bring them knowledge, despite the fact that everything is pointless.
We are just starstuff. We come from the stars, and back to the stars we will eventually go, one way or another. And it's up to you to decide if you will embrace that as the only meaning in the universe, or if you will reject the simplicity of that, and embrace humanity, embrace love, embrace compassion, embrace meaning in spite of it all.
That is what Starfield is about. That's what it is about to me. And I love it.
#starfield spoilers#starfield#stfu cloud#starfield has made me go back to those SEA videos that i linked in the post#and i just. yeah. i have a lot of feelings about this game#ive immersed myself in the worlds bethesda has made#i have dived into the deep end of the elder scrolls lore#i have written fanfics for fallout and i've studied the themes and their reflections of our world#and yet starfield is just... something so special.#i mean they are all very special don't get me wrong#but i just. i think starfield came out at the perfect time in my life and perhaps that's the same for many others#here i am trying to get my life together after the pandemic#convinced that the world is too harsh for me to function as an adult within it#and then starfield comes out and it's such a comfort to me#i am right where i need to be. and i have the ability to live and love and move forward despite the world's harshness#i love this game. so much.
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“sanctuary, 1967” — a poem about the impala (+ Dean) for today’s “americana/life on the road prompt”
fun fact: i spent literally over an hour arranging each of the stanzas to be in the shape of a car, and then decided i hated it and scrapped it ✌️good times
taglist below (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)
@spnpoetryrenaissance @aturnoftheearth @friendshapedcas @pinoruno @gracekisses @soupernatural @evenupsidedownbeautifulsomehow @magdaclaire @cinderellarhea @horrorgay @heartshapedcas @breo-rose @raytoroinmybackpack @gilmorenatural @leafblogger @supersapphical @notreallyaroad
#ivy.txt#ivy’s writing#poetry#spnpoetryrenaissance#following the trend of the rest of my poems so far#in that i intended this to be a very different poem and then it politely smacked me and said no <3#i was gonna take a lot of inspiration from joy harjo’s ‘perhaps the world ends here’#because i’m OBSESSED with that poem and the spn impala edit to it#but uh! in the end not so much lol#i like it anyway though :)
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