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eldestdaughterburner · 4 months

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i visit home

dishes are stacking, windows are smudged, the fridge exhales a pungent aroma upon opening.

it’s not my house, but it costs me something to pretend not to see The Mess.

so my fingers grow pruny from the dampness of the rag and my nostrils burn from the bleach fumes—

it’s all i can offer in place of my aching love.

#eldest daughter #family dynamics #immigrant daughter #oldest daughter #poor poetry??

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saltair-and-webweaves · 2 months

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i get mean when i’m nervous like a bad dog

Unknown/@papayajuan2019/a hero of our time - mikhail lermontov/poor things (2023)/ @sarakleijn/venetta octavia/ @papayajuan2019/@ https.c0rps3 on instagram/cop car - mitski

#Lilly’s weaves #web weaving #web weave #parallels #poetry #poetry parallels #book quotes #quotes #poor things #Mitski #cop car #feminine rage #girlblogging #this is what makes us girls #anger issues #cruelty #bad dog aesthetic #that should be a thing tbh #i’m a bad person

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garden-of-thoughts-fruit-of-lips · 23 days

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" Out of Line"

It's the person who's "out of line" who is always told to, "Get back in line!"

I'm "out of line," and the students tell me to, "Get back in line!" But I say, "No, " and I saw a smaller line, and they all seemed happy and stood out as different. They were dressed in school uniform. So I started making my way over there. And the teacher of the line I left came and asked me to, "Get back in line" and when I replied, "No", immediately that teacher took it to the principal and now the principal and teachers from my original class started threatening me in front of the students. Who were trying to scare me to get back in place. When I started to break down and cry, my original classmates and other students of that class said, "If you would have stayed in line, this wouldn't have happened to you!" Even with that being done, I kept making my way to the other line. Now, the teachers became furious, and bullies from that school approach me, telling me to turn around. Once again, I refused, so the principal gave a "signal" to the bullies, and they said, "Fine, you could go." As I turned and walked a couple steps further, they added by yelling, "This school dressed you! So we're taking your clothes from off your back!" They started ripping the clothes off of me in front of my classmates and other students. "Hahahaha," they would all laugh as I became naked. Once, I was stripped, and the students of that class noticed the scars and bruises on my naked body. The bullies moved aside so all could see, and I saw pointing, I heard whispering and laughing, and from the laughing crowd, words came out, "How long you had that there!" followed by more laughter. I even heard the ones that had pitty for me say, "If he would have only stayed." At that exact time, I got up from off the ground and turned my back against them

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spirk-trek · 3 months

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Poem and calligraphy by Ingrid Cross Drawing by Merle Decker Sun & Shadow Fanzine, 1980

The Vulcan Kind of Love

So often I feel his presence, warming my days like a fire. He commands; I follow...

From time immemorial it was so; Illogically, I find I would not wish it to be otherwise.

His love flows freely, takes form in human gestures: a smile, a touch, a tear.

I take it all so easily, never knowing how to thank him without giving offense.

My ancestral prison holds me back, my heritage and cursed pride allow no forbidden gestures.

Still, I find I need to answer him, for love not repaid becomes empty. Yet he makes no demands.

So my outlet is to offer comfort of the Vulcan form and style. I am always there for him: protecting, guarding, shielding.

The Vulcan Kind of Love.

#i literally read this in his voice #it's so good #spockums :( poor thing #i promise he loves you!!!#spirk #star trek #spock #star trek tos #star trek the original series #fan art #poetry #vintage #captain kirk #art #tos #fanzines #fandom #love

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ineffablelunatic · 9 months

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Good Omens + Hanif Kureishi, Intimacy

#good omens 2 #good omens #gos2 spoilers #sorry for poor image quality #poetry

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tendermimi · 7 months

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excerpt from the last poem ‘I grant you refuge’ by Palestinian poet Hiba Abu Nada before she was martyred by an israeli air strike on the twentieth of october, translated by Huda Fakhreddine

#hiba abu nada #poor angel #palestine #palestinian poet #arabic poetry #poetry #poem #writings #excerpts #words #quotes

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lesbiancassius · 2 months

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a teenager online wrote cliche poetry? should we call ts eliot? should we resurrect emily dickenson because someone committed the crime of making art that's kind of lame and posting it?

#june.txt #my god some of you are so mean and for what. did you emerge from the womb a fully formed artiste?#obviously in poor taste or offensive poetry is different but like. everyone writes bad poetry at some point

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lonlylook · 5 months

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Dead poets society (1989)

"i'm trapped"

#neil perry #dps #dps fandom #dead poets society #sad movies #dark academia #poetry #movies #this dude is gay #homosexual #fuck Neil's dad #sad little boy #sad little gay #my poor baby #he deserved better #he deserves the world

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sylenth-l · 4 days

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Did someone order a horrendously down bad poem from Felwinter's pov? No? Yes you did :))) I think you may need to sit down for this one

(also I am currently reading The Tale of Genji, which has many a beautiful love poem in it—and I couldn't resist adding a line from my favourite in here <3)

the softened edge

Snow drives down and settles, soft

On the sharp mountain stone

But remember, when sent on a knife-wind

these jaunty, fluttering flakes

may cut you to the bone.

One ought to see:

how these melting flurries die

how they wax and wane

how they will return to the sea

and the bitter winter sky.

I'll now put aside my pen, love.

Ah, how boundless, how clear is the air

that surrounds us at the top of the world?

All that drifts through it are whisps of cloud and birds.

I put aside my pen to share, and make sense of,

Your burning boundlessness of mind

The clearness of your eye,

Because I cannot capture you in rhythmic verse alone.

Your soul abounds. It spreads its wings and soars.

Each feather of that bird must be but a multitude of thoughts in your clever head

Each cry from that beak a mere whisper from your eternal mouth

And those whisps of vapour, surely, that must be me.

I cannot put aside my pen until I have you written in the stars, love.

I sit, I watch you,

Holding my book for cover,

And you do not notice, engrossed in your mind as you are.

I keep my pen in my hand, distraction,

twilight glinting off its metal nib through the window

And you hold your own, filled with twilight ink,

your fingers stained with it,

your own book smudged with it.

I hold my book as cover for my brazen eyes

and yet I see you there, reclining:

The fullness of your shoulders, the slope of your back,

you lay in the bed, the thinker, perfect.

The heart-stained sheets around your waist.

The orange pillow behind you, sagging slowly.

All I can see is the burnished sun setting beyond the snow-capped peaks.

There is not enough oxygen up here for me.

I cannot set aside my pen until the star charts show your form in constellation, but I am running out of ink.

I used it all to paint the fathomless depths of your eyes.

And while I was distracted you came close

and tried to warn of danger

But, perhaps, I think you are the true danger:

your hands are near.

Your fingers sink into fur

do you think it is snow?

Or do you somehow seek warmth?

You are so rash. You are the sun-bird.

I have little warmth to give, yet you persist,

and you are more dangerous than a snow bridge.

You are here, and proud of it, and I cannot set aside my pen.

We have spoken much. Recited ancient history,

performed ancient literature.

I should not know poetry.

And yet, I see a verse, and I am struck, when you are gone—

how I wish to see the little boat she of Ise rows

as you fly beyond the mountains without me.

I cannot bear not knowing when I shall see you again.

But back you paddle,

radiant, rising,

and I should not know poetry.

But you have given me a pen.

But, I suppose

the most human thing of all

is the attempt to write the knowledge

of seeing another's soul.

Aaaaaahh you actually did it!!! Yes, it was my order and I... indeed need to sit down... or better lay down actually...

Thank you so much for sharing, that's beautiful! 😭💙 Maybe there's something wrong with me, but to me it doesn't sound down or sad, quite heartfelt, wholesome and full of love actually?? (says the person found curled on the floor in the pool of tears)

#ask #destiny #poetry #felwinter #osiris #i guess it's safe to tag as #felris #also i'm very sorry for taking so long to post this ask!!#i've been totally braindead recently #i still am but a little less already!#“i have little warmth to give yet you persist” stuck in my head somehow #very on point #like in the general scale of their relationship i think #felwinter isn't sure what is it osiris wants from him so desperately #and if he even has that to give #and asking doesn't help because osiris himself isn't sure what he wants either #everything but more???#poor fellas struggling with their 0.5 emotional intellect stat

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dougielombax · 11 days

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Caine was going to arrange a poetry contest between the digital circus residents.

But then he had to cut it short when Kinger EXPLODED as he was about to read his poem.

Kinger: *shaking nervously* I….uh…I wrote this…poem…*an ominous ticking starts* oh dear….

Zooble: Oh no….

Kinger: *lifts up writing paper* It reads as follows. When-*KINGER ABRUPTLY EXPLODES VIOLENTLY, SHOWERING THE OTHERS AND THE SURROUNDING AREA WITH HIS BURNING SHRAPNEL FRAGMENTS*

Zooble: FUCK!!!!!! I should’ve known that was gonna happen!

Everybody begins to panic and run away.

Caine: Okay everybody! There’s no need to panic! It’s just a glitch! Kinger is perfectly fine! He’s going to be okay!

Zooble: Don’t just stand there you idiot! Help me put him back together!

Caine: Why does this keep HAPPENING????!!!!!

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derangedrhythms · 1 year

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A poor – torn heart – a tattered heart –

Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, from ‘A poor torn heart a tattered heart'

#emily dickinson #the complete poems of emily dickinson #a poor torn heart a tattered heart #poetry #excerpts #heart

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motheyesofnight · 1 year

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(from "An Artist")

An artist is not who's beautiful.

An artist is who makes a mess.

I have a poor mind and always struggled with grasping causality.

Instead of writing, made a mess.

Instead of an artist, became a pathetic fool.

#poetry #artist #artwork #writing #pathetic fool #causality #poor mind #the past #humans are sad beings

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babylon-crashing · 19 days

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numskull

To suck. To feed. To gnaw on a deranged teat. It's been years since I've felt that panic. Oh dear. I guess it can't be helped. How strange just how consent comes in comics. Graphic grubby, voracious and somehow safe. No matter the kink. No matter the hunger. Pity poor passions, the one door I know that the gods speak through. I still remember all their voices. What else will dementia grind down until I'm ravenous? roughshod? stripped of bliss? A hungry ghost that nothing will fill? Desires numskulled by trauma? Numb. Skull. Panic. The urge to be gnawed to the bone. The urge to do the gnawing.

#numskull #sonnet #poem #poetry #spilled ink #ars poetica #gnawing hunger #poor passions

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icvrusxx · 2 months

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Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already...dead.

spn 1x01, pilot // why this world, benjamin moser // where to begin?, sue zhao // reaper, clairo // spn 1x11, scarecrow // the metamorphosis, franz kafka // cut, catherine lacy // spn 15x09, the trap // the gods show up, michael kinnucan // calling a wolf a wolf, kaveh akbar

#dean winchester #sam winchester #repression #poor baby needs to feel his feelings..#spn #supernatural #web weaving #collage #poetry #spn 1x01 #spn pilot #spn 1x11 #spn scarecrow #spn 15x09 #spn the trap

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jadewing-realms · 10 months

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So there i was: playing bg3 last night, streaming for my sibling who's just starting to play their own run. Thought I'd show off some higher level shenanigans with my party of Naven/Tav, Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel.

Spot 3 goblins having a private drinking party and go okay, ill just have Naven as the warlock with ranged spells and Astarion with sneak attack creep close and pick them off real quick. Tell my sibling to watch cause sniping baddies is fun.

Wrong.

Suddenly, my high dex characters decide they can't hide for shit. Combat begins, and takes like 12 rounds because ig i severely underestimated these 3 goblins. 5 rounds in, both Naven and Astarion are down, next round Naven is dead.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel swoop in like the queens they are and save the boys' stupid asses, roasty toasty goblins, and combat ends with Astarion down for a 2nd time and not a single successful hide despite the camp being cluttered with cover.

After one scroll of revivify, the party is back on the road and I'm cackling imagining these men trying to brush that unequivocal failure of a stealth attack off like nothing happened. Naven takes the lead again.

And I proceed to accidentally walk through a tunnel full of landmines (with the conveniently delayed passive perception warnings from the boys coming only after everyone has taken damage), Naven goes down again, and then we attempt to escape over a tree bridge, off of which both men plummet immediately.

I love these goons. I love this game.

#at this point i headcanon shadowheart as the honorary big sister of the group #she is constantly exasperated #astarion is already an instigator #but now they enable each other #and then they need to be rescued #from the consequences of their own poor foresight #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #naven x astarion #tav x astarion #drow warlock #astarion #shadowheart #lae'zel #party shenanigans #poetry in motion

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trinalwilliams · 2 months

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The source keeps giving you an opportunity to grow, POOR thing… You keep choosing the dark side. Let go of your past and start a new..

Tlw

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