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lotrmusical · 3 months

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never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

#was calling beckett and scouring the works of eliza cook looking for lesbianism #good amounts of lesbianism in evidence but unfortunately very little in the way of good poetry #APART from this worm one which DOES NOT MISS #eliza cook #is there a thriving eliza cook tag on tumblr. somehow i doubt it #the hand of the giant and the heart of the brave / must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave!#not an original theme ofc but GOD the treatment is delightful. so fresh so gleeful some rlly nice use of sound. rlly solidly constructed #words #gay belligerence

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thedudewho · 4 days

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The sun, the moon and the stars only meet once every 360 years.

I hope I get the chance to know you in all of them…

#love letters #poetry from the heart

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thesun-isinlovewith-themoon · 9 months

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A comfortable sin. Is how you see me within. A lover lost, I gave my all. But you, my dear, will not win.

#poetry #canadian poetry #poem #poetry from the heart #original poem #original poetry #free verse

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firstfullmoon · 8 months

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Fady Joudah, “Remove”

+ his essay “My Palestinian Poem That “The New Yorker” Wouldn’t Publish”

#I HAVE A HEART THAT ROTS RESISTS AND HOPES..........#w #poetry #fady joudah #all beautiful poetry is an act of resistance #from the river to the sea

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teddybeartoji · 4 months

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it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.

it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.

so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?

or is it the fingers in his hair?

he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.

you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.

he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.

his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.

as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.

a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.

he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.

even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.

your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.

his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.

he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.

he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.

and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.

you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.

he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?

no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.

it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.

he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.

turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—

a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.

seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.

his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.

his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.

you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.

don't stop.

+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right

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soracities · 4 months

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Najwan Darwish, "Rising From Her Love", Nothing More to Lose: Selected Poems (trans. Kareem James Abu-Zeid) [ID'd]

#q #lit #quotes #poetry #typography #poems #najwan darwish #rising from her love #nothing more to lose #id included #palestinian lit #a heart is a heavy burden #reading #m #x

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juan-francisco-palencia · 9 months

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A flower on the road.

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tendermimi · 1 year

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richard siken “driving, not washing” / benjamin 2018 / ilya kaminsky “while the child sleeps, sonya undresses”

#my heart…#ilya kaminsky #richard siken #crush #poetry #poem #writings #excerpts #words #benjamin 2018 #film #film stills #parallels #web weaving #was going to add that one scene from gods own country but i didn’t like the way it looked welp #on love #tenderness #heart full of tenderness

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thedudewho · 4 months

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In the end we’d go days without having a meaningful conversation

And I used to miss you soooo much when that happened

But it never seemed like you missed me

#poetry from the heart #grieving over someone I never had

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thesun-isinlovewith-themoon · 9 months

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Patchwork Problems

Loose seams, we fall apart, button eyes only half stitched on. Yet you see me and I see you. Torn fabric hearts hardly holding on to the fibres of our true selves. Patches of red over blue, stitches of black across white. Our scars are clear as daylight. Our wrongs glow in the night. Yet you see me and I see you. Peace of mind is a luxury, one we've never known. Clinging to our stitches our seams are wearing out. Yet you see me and I see you. I see you are your patchwork problems. I see them and slowly, darling, we are learning to sew.

#poetry #canadian poetry #poet #original poem #poetry from the heart #poems

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firstfullmoon · 7 months

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Mahmoud Darwish, “Defiance,” trans. Naseer Aruri and Edmund Ghareeb, in Enemy of the Sun: Poetry of Palestinian Resistance

#POETRY WILL FEED MY HEART / I HAVE A MILLION NIGHTINGALES ON THE BRANCHES OF MY HEART SINGING THE SONG OF LIBERATION #w #poetry #mahmoud darwish #all beautiful poetry is an act of resistance #from the river to the sea

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cinemaocd · 1 month

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Every Protest Has

Outside provocateurs starting property damage, and violence.

Hardened activists/Professional protestors that are out to get strategically arrested. Usually <10 people.

The groups with almost no connection with the cause being protested who try to make it about themselves.

The cops starting shit. Escalating to militarized police response.

Street theater.

Privileged people starting shit with the cops putting marginalized folks in even more danger.

Surveillance.

Private Security

FBI informants

Counter protestors not in a formal protest group but scattered around the margins, making themselves visible to the media but also on or near public transport so that they can intimidate people coming/going to the protest

"Non-lethal" crowd control methods.

People with bullhorns who should not have them. Ever.

and finally but probably most importantly:

Every protest has

been mischaracterized, often wildly so, by the media.

#I've been going to protests since the 80s and I've seen it every time #the methods change #the street theater changes (glad we're out of the era of slam poetry with all my heart)#the side causes change #the weapons the cops bring get a lot scarier #the surveillance is now coming from all sides and directions #but this shit is universal #be safe #look at who is organizing and their affiliations #for god sake don't take your babies and children they literally do not care I've seen it #seriously be smart

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itspileofgoodthings · 10 months

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one time my mom was talking about something, I don’t remember what, and she said “have you ever known the poverty of having nothing to say?” and when I say nothing has ever punctured my heart quite like that statement

#I don’t even fully know why. also I don’t think she even meant it how I took it #but there is just some part of me that does believe that that is the greatest poverty #when there are no words in your mind or heart. no phrases—nothing to rely on or fall back on #and you just have to struggle with the human condition and be able to express none of it #and I know that not everyone uses words like I do or relies on them that way but people need some words. they need something #this is why a) I never make fun of those Instagram accounts that are all cheesy inspirational quotes or whatever because people are trying #they are REACHING #also b) that’s why villains who are wordlessly violently destructive make me cry #because it’s just like—-yeah I can understand turning to violence if I didn’t have expression #if I couldn’t get anything out #also also this is not related but I watched some movie or tv show the other day (and I cannot for the life of me remember which one it was)#but there was this couple on a date and the girl asks him to complete all these proverbs after she gives him the first half #because ‘a man who knows his proverbs can’t be all bad’ and it shook. Me. To. My. CORE.#also also!! this is why I teach! it’s the heart of it for me!! And why I make them memorize poetry. like.#and put quotes on the board every day. like. You will have words and images in your mind and your heart from my class if I have anything #to say about it #anyway sometimes my mom says things and casually devastates me #and I think (I think) she was just talking about the poverty of having no news because nothing is going on #and so you have nothing to share with someone. and she was talking about my Grandma and how sometimes she was just so sullen and quiet #but it’s just because there was nothing to say #anyway anyway anyway that is also why the one time on the phone my grandma said who has known the mind of the Lord —shook me so much #because she never really said anything. words were not her thing and she never quoted anything #and suddenly her saying this line of scripture that said more than any words I’d ever said —one of the defining moments of my life #tbh. anyway this is very long I’m sorry. I have woken up this morning crying about this. idk.

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soracities · 1 year

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You let your heart go a bit / Like a dog that you call back when he wanders off.

Jean-Michel Maulpoix, from “From all over, she flows...”, A Matter of Blue: Poems (trans. Dawn M. Cornelio)

#q #lit #quotes #poetry #jean michel maulpoix #from all over she flows #a matter of blue #foul rag and bone shop of the heart #herzlicht #reading #french lit #m #x

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juan-francisco-palencia · 7 months

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A flower on the road.

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slime-hoe · 4 months

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I know it's early but I need lesbian huskerdust content.

Clarification I'm a baby dyke not some weird fetishy dude. Also I love the guys as they are I just am excited by the realization that they would make a cute butch/femme couple

Just idk something about imagining husk as a handsome woman makes me very flustered.

#I need to get better at art quick.#I used lesbian as shorthand for wlw here Husk would still 100% be pan #we dont invalidate bi and pan individuals in this household #I thought of this listening to a poem by Ivan coyote about the beauty of femmes and it made something in my brain go #this is the way husk loves Angel. My brain then went old timey butch/femme couple dancing to Loser baby and I started crying again #because i was already crying my heart out because the poem made me reflect on why ive been in the closet so long and #avoiding poetry on purpose as a way to keep myself from analyzing my own emotions around my sexuality and gender #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #husker x angel dust #huskerdust

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