poetry-birdie - Tumblr blog

[poetry-birdie]

i'm literally the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb because i am so docile and sweet and i hold very still when they put the rope around my neck and i trot along so happily while they lead me to the altar and they do not even have to tie me down because i lie so very still and only bleat once or twice in my lovely lamb voice and when the knife comes down it cuts through me like butter and i offer no resistance and i bleed so prettily all over my new white wool and my guts all unspool like the most beautiful shining yarn and my eyes are animal and dumb and hold no accusation and every time i die i come right back as another little lamb because the priest loves me so so much and he always chooses me for the sacrifice every time and he always places one hand on my small and twitching nose to calm me while he lifts the knife and he doesn't do it for the other lambs only me because i'm his favorite

[poetry-birdie]

Ellas Endrion & Isilmë Endrion & Antheia Dúlinnel || "You were my daughter last time."

[poetry-birdie]

Original poem by myself

anachronisticpoetry on Instagram

Mwah

[poetry-birdie]

to carry your grief on my back would be an honor by parrish h.

[poetry-birdie]

so that was what love led to. to wound and be wounded.

brute: poems - emily skaja, belovéd - yves olade, lie from peripety (2008) - jen mazza, we are hard - margaret atwood, tumblr user @heavensghost, olivia (1949) - dorothy bussy (née strachey).

[poetry-birdie]

on self-sabotage

the bomb, florence + the machine// appointments, julien baker// abject permanence, larissa pham// never wanted to dance, mindless self indulgence// king, florence + the machine// quote: lauren e. bowman// in the woods, tana french// does the universe fight for souls to be together?, jamie varon// olivia laing on loneliness, marrying the poet ian patterson and the challenge of intimacy// left alone, fiona apple// @mjalti //renegade, taylor swift// a burning hill, mitski// ICU, phoebe bridgers// legit tattoo gun, the front bottoms// just, radiohead

[poetry-birdie]

A conversation shortly before death:

Patroclus, my friend, are you ready to march?

I don the armour of Achilles and yet you would address me as Patroclus?

Perhaps King Meneleaus and his ilk are easily fooled, but Achilles and yourself are not so much twinlike in your mannerisms as you are in your affections.

A true enough statement. I had hoped to go about this unchallenged.

And unchallenged you shall remain.

Even though I am not the prophesied warrior?

You are a worthy warrior unto yourself, Patroclus, I fear you may have forgotten your own merits under the weight of Achilles' shadow.

I do not protest to my place by his side.

I would not expect you to. Though you are but children your love is one I have not seen since my own union with Penelope.

We are but children and yet we fight in a war for another man's unhappy bride.

It is an unfortunate fate-

One you yourself helped bring about. Do not wash your hands of this Odysseus. Should Achilles or I fall in this aimless slaughter our blood shall stain your skin as bright as any Trojans who bear the final blow.

I will make peace with my role.

That will not spare you Achilles' wrath.

You do not expect to survive this.

I do not.

And yet you fight in his place.

I love him.

You love him enough to die over a petty quarrel?

These men you would have us follow have done Achilles an injustice. They claim his victories for their own, they do not show him respect nor dignity when it is by his sword alone we have kept ourselves afloat. Even now they ridicule him for not partaking in a battle that should have never been ours to fight. Perhaps the bloodshed has blinded you, Odysseus but these men, these Kings act more like pigs than men of honour. He is a hero, a warrior whom the poets will speak of long after our bones have turned to dust.

We are all heroes here.

Men who rely on children to win wars are no heroes.

It is as the fates intended, Patroclus.

The fates are cruel. They care not for mortal pleasures, for mortal lives nor mortal love. When the time comes that the fates decide you would be the next Hero all the smarts of Greece will do naught to save you.

Is that a threat, Patroclus?

It is a lived experience. One you would do well to heed.

I-

I am young, Odysseus. Yet, I am wise beyond my years and I am tired. My love for Achilles, my very devotion to him, in body and spirit and soul fuels me onwards. If I must give my life to spare him more hurt then so be it. That is the burden of love.

I do not wish to see you die for love Patroclus.

When my blood spills out across these unforgiving sands, do not weep for me. Weep for Achilles. For the love he has lost under your sage guidance. For the man he could have become with myself by his side.

I shall.

Then I suppose we must march onwards, old friend.

Patroclus?

Yes, Odysseus?

I won't let your love be forgotten.

[poetry-birdie]

neil hilborn, numbered days

[poetry-birdie]

Take my hand, come with me,

There’s a place I’d like us to be

A field of green meets the blue sky

Under a tree, there’s you and I

Wind in our hair and songs to hum

Two’s company, laughter and then some

You can share your favourite memories

Describe in detail all your fantasies

I’ll peel them apart and savour every wedge

To cherish all our moments, I do so pledge

[poetry-birdie]

fatima aamer bilal, from weeping flesh above the ground.

[text id: the design of this universe is so damned, // i got to hold your limp body before i got to hold your hand.]

[poetry-birdie]

chronicles of the self-fulfilling prophecy by judas h.

[poetry-birdie]

Return to the earth with me, my love. Death cannot do us part.

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë | Bronze Age Couple | the Hasanlu Lovers | 'Strangeness and Charm' - Florence + the Machine | The Addams Family (1991) | tumblr post by @hopefulnerd25 | William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (1996) | The Amber Spyglass, Philip Pullman | Enemies, a Love Story (1989) | 'In A Week' - Hozier | the Lovers of Valdaro | the Lovers of Modena | The Castle, Franz Kafka

[poetry-birdie]

Mary Oliver

[poetry-birdie]

fatima aamer bilal, from days where my whole world is my bed.

[text id: 5. MY MOTHER ALWAYS TOLD ME TO NEVER PLAY WITH KNIVES. I BET SHE NEVER SAW ME BECOMING ONE. / 6. I SHARPEN MY TEETH ON MY SKIN.]

[poetry-birdie]

and i love you so much, i’m going to let you kill me.

nicole dollanganger / micah nemerever / yves olade / hannibal / tvtropes / florence and the machine / ada limón / richard siken / phoebe bridgers / euphoria / ethel cain

[poetry-birdie]

on tragedy, fate, and inevitability.

oresteia, robert icke // theatre of the oppressed, augusto boal // song of achilles, madeline miller // the book thief, markus zusak // antigone, jean anouilh // revisiting mockingjay ahead of the hunger games prequel, entertainment weekly // romeo and juliet, shakespeare // h of h playbook, anne carson // war of the foxes, richard siken // the road to hell (reprise), hadestown // planet of love, richard siken // they both die at the end, adam silvera

[poetry-birdie]

There was love. Someone still left.

(NOT BASED OFF ANY CURRENT EXPERIENCES)

Jeanette Winterson / Ashe Vernon / Clementine von Radics, "In a Dream You Saw a Way to Survive" / P.D, "there is no absolution for the fallen, only dying" / Sky Ferreia, "Sad Dreams" / ? / Lidia Yuknavitch, "The Chronology of Water: a Memoir" / ?