#crow writes poetry

[crows-talking-place]

we crawl from the waves still lifeless, unformed we watch the sky burn

our bodies get stronger we move on the land we watch the sky burn

our neurons start firing we have our first thought we watch the sky burn

strike flint upon rock cause sparks, light the fire we watch the sky burn

we talk to each other we settle our difference we watch the sky burn

and then there's society science, technology watch the sky burn

we dance in the sunlight we hide from the shadows we watch the sky burn

we talk over wavelenths real boolean connections our laughter infectious we watch the sky burn

we share out our hope in our dimly-lit corners the dark may come soon but we'll watch the sky burn

the sky may remember our beings as formless but we will move foward the sky will burn on

sunrise/sunset poem inspired by This Post by @hellsite-hall-of-fame. I haven't written poetry in a hot minute so it's probably pretty damn bad, but that post really inspired me so i thought I'd let myself write something just for fun. might delete later tho we'll see in like an hour lol (also no pressure to rb btw, i wrote this cos i wanted to for me)

[crows-talking-place]

(tw depressing writing - not directly abt anything bad but could be interpreted in cetain ways - avoid if not in a good headspace, stay safe)

the darkness enshrouds me, warm like a blanket, and it is welcome to me for it's all i remember.

it is so familiar and it is too known, though it may not be home, it's all i can afford.

they'd look down upon me, and turn up their nose if they could. but they can't.

and they'd tell me i've failed, and i know i have failed, but they can not tell me so i try to forget,

but when i hit the water it is all i remember so i do not fight it.

i open my arms wide embracing the darkness for the darkness was there when all else was not

and when nothing remained all there was left was darkness so if this time i'm drowning-

at least now i'm warm

the legacy of the black rose is vast enough to drown in.

[mournfulroses]

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "The Crows," featured in New & Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

[red-denarts]

"A Void" (new & improved legible edition!)

________

There’s a void

In the trees

Calling in

the early morning

---

A black mark

against the sky

A piece of night

flying in the daylight

---

Shooting down

like stars

To take life

into its space

---

It’ll die as all does

And briefly leave a trace

---

It’s mouth

a sword

Speaking words

of the grave

~ “Be safe” ~

________

[httpschrys]

“Even the idea of being this near someone should have set his skin crawling. Instead he thought, What happens if I move closer?

“I don’t want your prayers,” he said.

“What do you want, then?”

The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.”

[phantombre]

Dude, I swear. This Slay the Princess game has tainted my view on literally everything.

So, I recently got back into Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion (Highly recommend, btw. The HD renovation is getting a massive graphics update in the fall), and I decided to restart by playing through the story mode (Basically, the main game where you run through 1000 rooms getting chased by monsters and cardboard and whatnot).

Along the way, you can read these notes written by people who entered the mansion and didn't make it. The first collection of notes is by a guy who can only describe things as "romantic":

I can hear Smitten saying all of this in my head.

It must be that floaty, poetic style of writing, but still...

[crow-aeris]

star gazing

Tim kicked his legs up, taking in a deep breath as the stars glimmered above him. It was a rare for gotham to have clear skies, and rarer still for it to be dark enough that stars appear. Usually, with a view like this, he'd have his camera in hand to record the memories forever... but that wasn't the case- at least not for tonight, that is.

He'd been benched due to an injury a few days ago that still left his bones and muscles alike aching.

"What's a birdie like you doin' all alone?" a rough voice rumbled above him.

Despite the gravel digging into his back, Tim leaned forward to see Red Hood approach.

"Hey, Jason," he greeted with a subdued tone, "shouldn't you be on patrol?"

"Shouldnt you be at home?" the older huffed, disengaging his helmets safety before taking a seat beside him.

"Mm," Tim hummed disinterestedly, the night quiet and still.

"Okay, what crawled up your ass and died?"

He rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes fixed on Altair, the star glittering peacefully from its perch as Aquilla's eyes, "It's nothing, okay? Just leave it. If I go back to the manor, will you finally leave me alone?"

"Whatever," Jason scoffed, but the two lapsed into an easy silence.

Eventually, dawn creeps in on little cat feet, and Tim is reminded of a poem.

""Fog creeps comes on little cat feet-""

"Fog, by Sandburg," Jason replies instantaneously, twisting his head to pin Tim with his turquoise eyes tinged with intrigue, "never took you to be a poetry buff, birdie."

"Never took you to be such an annoying asshole, Hood," he huffed back, though his words lacked any substantial heat, "but no, I'm not a poetry buff, or whatever. I just remember snippets from what my mom used to read me, but never the entire thing."

"..."It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches, and then moves on"."

"...What?"

"It's the rest of the poem," Jason keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the skyline, both the buildings and sky alike were steadily being repainted with the gentle apricots and peachy hues of the rising sun. Both knew that the sun wouldn't make it past a few more hours, and will soon be once more obscured by gotham's near-perpetual smog.

"If you want help finding the names of those poems, you already break into my safehouses anyway, so how about we make your visits productive, hm?"

Tim allowed the silence to fill the air once more, both mournful of the vanishing sun yet appreciative that he could witness Gotham painted as the beauty it was. After a few seconds, he replies, "Since I already do it, might as well."

So when on nights where the nightmares seemed a little too real, and the terrors seemed a little closer than they were, Tim would scurry to Jason's place under the guise of a little poetry lesson.

And bathed in the warm glow of Jason's lamp, listening as his childhood hero gently read from the well worn pages of "The Tale of Beowulf", Tim could not help but to be delivered to sleep.

[not-really-all-that-human]

Wolves and crows follow eachother and lead eachother to food making sure the other survives but a wolf could still catch a crow in its jaws and a crow could still feed from the remains of a wolf and they say "even in death I keep you alive for that is what love is."

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

She'd laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

[fawnblooded]

[light-cornflower-blue]

This photo reminds me of a modern au where the two are in a cafe, studying and drinking coffee together.

[kaylabrookee]

---They were two people who desired each other. Who needed each other.

And yet they couldn't bear the closeness of eachother.

It was too much.

The touch of warm skin, felt like a cool shudder.

The tickle of a breath, that felt like suffocation.

They needed eachother, desperately.

But their past would not release them yet.

There were still battles to fight, Demons to slay.

They would fight alongside eachother but at an untouchable distance. ---

This was something I wrote after watching 'Shadow and Bone' season 2. I love Kanej sm 😭💜💜

[inksplit]

[lollytea]

I really love hope is a thing with feathers and I also really LOVE the hope as a sewer rat poem too but I wish it was not explicity written as "well actually" against Dickinson asgvsjnk. The imagery is SO GOOD but this whole vibe of "my metaphor is better than your metaphor" kinda sours it for me

[rotinmycore]

“𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.”

[httpschrys]