via @alien_poeme on instagram
...
“Street Song”
By a mad miracle I go intact
Among the common rout
Thronging sidewalk, street,
And bickering shops;
Nobody blinks a lid, gapes,
Or cries that this raw flesh
Reeks of the butcher’s cleaver,
Its heart and guts hung hooked
And bloodied as a cow’s split frame
Parceled out by white-jacketed assassins.
Oh no, for I strut it clever
As a greenly escaped idiot,
Buying wine, bread,
Yellow-casqued chrysanthemums -
Arming myself with the most reasonable items
To ward off, at all cost, suspicions
Roused by thorned hands, feet, head,
And that great wound
Squandering red
From the flayed side.
Even as my each mangled nerve-end
Trills its hurt out
Above pitch of pedestrian ear,
So, perhaps I, knelled dumb by your absence,
Alone can hear
Sun’s parched scream,
Every downfall and crash
Of gutted star,
And, more daft than any goose,
This cracked world’s incessant gabble and hiss.
--Sylvia Plath, 1956
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Now Odysseus getting inked is one of the most random and in a way cute headcannons ever! 😆
Like:
Agamemnon: Hey, Menelaus. Where is Odysseus? Cannot find him anywhere
Menalaus: Probably by the ships. It was resupply day today.
Agamemnon: But that was hours ago. What on earth is he doing?
Menelaus: Yeah you are probably right let's go and check it out
*They find Odysseus on the beach sitting on a rock while a Scythian probably covered in tattoos of his people is tattooing his upper arm*
Agamemnon: Odysseus, what in the gods' names are you doing?
Odysseus: Oh, can't you see? I am getting a tattoo from this man. He is very good actually.
Agamemnon: Seriously?! We are at war and this is a military camp!
Odysseus: Don't worry, he's cool. I checked.
Menelaus: But weren't you wounded a couple of days ago? Surely shouldn't you be taking it easy? I know they call you "equal to gods" but you ain't immortal
Odysseus: No worries. I am accustomed to pain. This is nothing.
Agamemnon: Even so! That is not a king's behavior. What is wrong with you?!
Odysseus: Why not? Besides look!
*shows his half-done olive branch tattoo*
Odysseus: Olive for my homeland, flowers for my wife and the bittersweet fruit is my dear Telemachus. I want my family with me. I might die tomorrow and my body will not be buried to my land. I want my family with me to the funeral pyre...
Menelaus: *sniffing loudly* You know, brother, you have to admit that is the most fucking adorable thing ever!
Agamemnon: Humph! Whatever! *turns around to hide a manly tear*
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Even better imagine the funny and adorable interaction with Penelope! Hahahahaha like:
Penelope: *sees the tat when she prepares Odysseus for bed* Darling...what is this exactly?
Odysseus: *innocently looking for he had forgotten he had it* Oh, this? I got it at war...
Penelope: But but...this isn't exactly the most...noble behavior isn't it?
Odysseus: Well...it wasn't very "noble" where I was, Penelope but still look here...
*touching the branch*
Odysseus: Olive branch for our homeland...our bed and palace...
*tracing the tiny flowers*
Odysseus: Flowers for my beautiful wife, whom I longed for, for years
*pointing the olives*
Odysseus: the sweet fruit of my dear Telemachus whom I never saw growing and this...
*touching a tiny detail that looks like the silhouette of a bird*
Odysseus: The bird, the swallow coming home is me. I swore to come back to you no matter what I would need to do. Back to our land and our sweet Telemachus
*Penelope smiling now touched and embraces his neck*
Penelope: I still am not sure that I like this idea but it looks good because it is you who has it...
Sorry guys hahahaha 😆 random cheesy brainstorming. Blame my dialog with @aaronofithaca05 for it hahahaha 😆
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HAPPY 94th BIRTHDAY Anne Sexton! RIP!
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
...
The Fury of Rain Storms
The rain drums down like red ants,
each bouncing off my window.
The ants are in great pain
and they cry out as they hit,
as if their little legs were only
stitched on and their heads pasted.
And oh they bring to mind the grave,
so humble, so willing to be beat upon
with its awful lettering and
the body lying underneath
without an umbrella.
Depression is boring, I think,
and I would do better to make
some soup and light up the cave.
– From “The Furies”, in The Death Notebooks, 1974
...
Image source: Ina Saltz, Body Type 2: More Typographic Tattoos, 2010
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one day i’ll find somebody to build a home with, one with no explosive rage in slammed cabinets or quiet anger in the walls that leaves a lingering pain. our kids will fake disgust when they see us kissing and laughing in the kitchen while making breakfast but when they’re 17 and experiencing a love that looks less than ours, they’ll know when to leave.
n.g. // i didn’t see this type of love growing up and as a result i let a man ruin me
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join me in heaven so we can fight like hell, for everything that was ever promised to us, inked and memorialised in our young and vital blood.
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