#my poetry

[definitelynotshouting]

saw this post assigning devastating quotes to each life series members, got incredibly inspired, and decided to try my own hand at it but specifically with snippets of the poetry ive personally written throughout the years :] thoughts and musings on several of my choices will be under the cut if you're interested in that sorta thing!! Enjoy<3

Bdubs: "it's all so blue. so blue, so wet, so cold, but you've got a fire in your heart like a hundred rockets. you aren't hungry, but you could eat the dead, / cut your teeth on a rotting corpse."

BigB: "SOMETHING HAS FRACTURED HERE AND IT WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. EACH DAY YOU WILL CHASE THE FAULT LINES LOOKING FOR A BRIDGE ONLY TO FIND IT ALREADY BURNT."

Etho: "I am above myself, hovering, pressing pale fingers into the dull bruise of yesterday to test its lingering ache. Is this all that's left?"

Gem: "what are gods if not the mothers of our own inventions. we are the avatars of violence and love and hope and fear in equal measure."

Scar: "I think I want to live. I know one day, I must die. In the cosmic wheel of fortune, I am a gamble in the making, gentle breath washing a little luck over the dice."

Grian: "Within the shape of my clawed fingers are knives: scrabbled dirt; scarlet lines; the escape route / Between a fence and / Tall grasses."

Impulse: "Life's bitter, stilted offering / Is that every person we meet / Will one day become a perfect stranger."

Martyn: "Dangerous beasts must earn / Their survival. / You are no different than a knife / In the hands of murderers."

Lizzie: "When I think of the egg-tooth, / I revel in purple glass; the lightning; the shatter; the knife-slip between / Death, and a wake."

Mumbo: "This is your life now, / Found in the cracks and crevices, scraps pried between laughter and reckless abandon."

Pearl: "I am begging, raw in the face of absolution— do not hate me. Please, keep watering me in your garden, / Despite how closely my heart resembles a weed."

Ren: "— and sometimes hearts are forged in violence /— and sometimes blood cannot form scabs / — and sometimes wounds carry half-hearted sutures / — and we are all but living fragments / —"

Skizz: "Just a little longer. Please. / There is light pooling at the bottom of the flower vase."

Scott: "I can only hope that with the rising of the dawn / I will pass through darkness and return to day, / Where I am a solar ray blinding— teeth and claws sharpened, the stretch of my skin carrying gold / Above the dull, dug out earth"

Joel: "Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; / Yes, there is a loss."

Jimmy: "for year after bloody year, i clung to life with aching fingernails, grasped at every straw, took every scrap of double-barrelled hope and shot myself in the chest with it."

Tango: "every time you claw yourself from the ashes you insist it will never happen again. every time you reach the breaking point, it happens a little bit faster."

Cleo: "It's about catharsis, not letting go. / Because a part of me wants to hold this, / A swelling hurt deeper than tides, / Hotter than stars. The kind of rage / A mother might raise against her own child."

I dont share my poetry on here very often, partially because it tends to end up coming from a very personal part of me, but since this was actually a lot of fun maybe i'll start posting my poems more often here :]] i think what i found most interesting about this exercise was that as i scrolled my notes app and cherry-picked quotes for each character, it felt like the ones i chose naturally became part of a larger conversation-- as if the characters were speaking to me through my own words about their lowest points, about their ultimate views on the games filtered through the lens of a red life.

It felt enlightening; i dont often feel like im speaking to characters or being informed about their plots/preferences, etc. the way many other writers discuss in workshops or casually online, but by the end of this exercise i felt like i just... understood them, better than i had before. There's something inexplicable about reading your own words and consciously finding ways to apply them in a way that encapsulates them down to a character's core that just... truly highlights the specific qualities that resonate most with you. And i think stumbling upon that organically was a very vivid and incredible experience for me

Admittedly, i did struggle on Scott, Ren, and Etho a lot-- im not as familiar with them as characters, and for a while i couldn't quite pinpoint what exact themes they tend to carry with them throughout all their life seasons. But when i started to really look at everyone's quotes as a whole, i realized they felt like a story, like the response to a question-- as if i was being TOLD what they felt and how, and that that was how i needed to frame the rest of my selections. So Scott's ended up being about control, and the desperate hanging onto of it; Ren's is about the acceptance and bitterness of what he cannot change; Etho's is a quiet resignation rounded out with softer disbelief. The more i looked at these choices, the more they felt correct to me-- and while i still think i have a ways to go before i fully understand these characters, i feel like this has helped me a lot with that ultimate goal :]

Of all these poetry snippets, though, i think Scar, Skizz, and Joel's are my absolute favorites. Skizz's poem is actually the whole poem in its entirety (as is Cleo's, funnily enough)-- it's a short, very simple poem that is incredibly close to my heart for many reasons, but the main one being because it was written at one of my lowest points a few years back. Its about clawing for hope when there isnt any, and finding even the smallest of beautiful things to hold onto, and begging yourself to keep holding onto that at any cost. The pure, clean beauty of watching light refract through a vase of flowers, and knowing that sometimes, that's all there is to live for-- I felt like that really spoke to Skizz's life series character as a whole: finding the beauty in every tiny thing, no matter how small, and scrabbling for more time to appreciate it.

Scar's snippet comes from a much longer poem of mine about the difficulty of reconciling the idea of a future when you havent had to think of one before (incidentally, Etho's snippet comes from this poem as well). I think out of everyone, this quote encapsulates him the best; i like how it subtly references that inner well of vivacity he draws from that many other characters struggle to find, and how that in turn ties in with the lore that he never died a final death during Secret Life. And i love how it simultaneously manages to encompass the way he utilizes the social game in each season as well-- Scar's an incredibly intelligent social player, and i think the imagery of a gambler breathing their luck over the dice as they cast it, and as he casts himself at others for alliances and enemies, truly does fit him.

As for Joel, the full poem his quote comes from is one im particularly proud of, especially for its final lines. I think, quite honestly, i can let this poem stand for itself in its entirety:

They say transformation is letting the light in, But in my mind it's a violence. A coarseness, a fracturing, the bloody vowels between a scream And a howl. How do you transform without killing yourself? When I am a lion, my hands and feet Grow claws; my teeth sharpen. No longer do I spark— I ignite. Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; Yes, there is a loss. To transform is to leave behind a body And eat its still-breathing corpse.

I find myself referencing this poem a lot even in my daily life-- as longterm readers of mine already know, one of my favorite themes is that of replacing yourself and permanent transformation. This poem really is just about how changing, in any shape or form, alters you forever; how you can look back on yourself from even just a few months ago and feel like a completely different person despite remaining the same. Connecting it with Joel's character, and how he acts during his red lives in each season, was a natural and intuitive progression once i really sat and thought about it.

Alright thats enough yapping from me 😂😂😂 im not used to writing meta nor delving into my poetry on here, so this was a bit of an experimental post for me. If youve read up until this point, i both applaud your patience and really hope you enjoyed this window into my personal works and thoughts on them :]] cheers, and thanks to @/chipperchemical the op of the original post for inspiring me!!!❤️❤️❤️

[sanddollarpoems]

Redundancies

Isn't it redundant

how we are born,

age,

and die?

Isn't it redundant

how we look more and more

like our parents,

who look like their parents did

at their age?

Isn't it redundant

how we sing the songs

that our parents taught us,

while teaching our children

the songs of our youth?

Isn't it redundant

how the past repeats itself

and yet the lessons learned

are wasted on the old?

Are we not redundant

if nothing ever changes?

[amphipolitan]

Star Wars gifset I made from a poem I wrote. Highlighting some aspects & parallels of Ezra and Luke that I like.

Winds May Blow

The north wind comes to blow and blow, Disturbing ghosts from long ago; I watch the desolation grow; I hold them tight, these things I know: Though winds may come to mourn and blow, Defiance still will grow and grow, Fed by a voice from long ago And hope will bloom in winter snow. Be not afraid, when winds may blow; They rose in secret, long ago; What binds our hearts, they cannot know; Be still, and let the shadow show The formless plains of ash and snow Where hope once bloomed, an age ago; Apprentice, rise, and only know The force which binds the high and low, Acceptance for the change we sow, The strength to stand when winds may blow, The warmth which wards the fox in snow, The calm that lets the sapling grow.

[slouchingwriter]

One of the sweetest things I've come across is when people are religious on your behalf. I'm an atheist, I don't believe in God, but I believe that you believe and there's something uniquely special about that. I'd prefer to have someone's hand than the mysterious, invisible hand of God.

Anyway, I wrote a poem about it:

An atheist and a believer walk into a bar

I'll pray for you. Your words humble me, crowd out the hate I'd been nursing, slowly burning. Here's a champion, I thought, pleading with god on my behalf, throwing rope into blistered hands. For a moment, I try to hold on, so wooed by your devotion. But that brief sip of faith wasn't enough. The fire took me. You kneel, angel fingernails, digging through burnt wood. My dear, how you tried to save the cinders of me. We drink in silence after you've given up, and I say: I still don't believe in god, Champion, but pray for me, anyway.

he was so insane for this actually

[fluffyydumplings]

IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD

If the world was ending right now

I’d hug you until I crush your bones

Because if my life flashes before my eyes

I would have liked to know that I still managed to engrave flowers of my love onto the dying flesh of your soul

It’s selfish

But once I’m gone

I’m nothing better than the fish swimming endlessly in a swirl of muddy puddles with nowhere to go

Aimlessly looking for a way to live even when life is no more

I’m nothing but the desires of my flesh and the sins that my soul has left my body with

And what better way to live even when I’m dead

But with the traces of my heart on your bones

To mark the reminder of our love

Or mine?

You could crush my bones too…

The world is ending darling..

Nothing matters anymore…

That’s kind of morbid

I’m hearing it now

But isn’t the world ending.. just the same damn thing

If the world was ending

I’d want to talk to you once last time

I wouldn’t talk about how much love I have for you

Or how all the stars in the skies are placed directly in the crevices of your heart

I would talk to you about how to make cupcakes

And how you still haven’t returned that food container I lent you last December

I would talk to you about the most mundane things that a being can talk about

Because if you think about it flowers are just particles that we happen to see

Yet they manage to hold stories of a million words

Stepped on by a man who was in a hurry on his way to work

Ignored

Plucked by a lady who hasn’t been visited by her children for years

Adored

Torn apart by the hands of a child who has just failed his test

Wasted

Think of it my darling

If the world were to end right now

What good is me telling you I love you

When my love lies in knowing how you’ve missed the bus today

When my love lies in knowing how the food at work was too salty for you today

My love for you is like a bookmark that sits between the pages of a book

Sometimes trapped between two boring pages

Sometimes trapped between the ending of a chapter

Sometimes trapped in the climax of a story

Sometimes wedged between simple words ‘like’ the or ‘nice’

Sometimes wedged between words like ‘love’ and ‘joy.’

You can’t say the moments that we have spent wasting our lives together in simply talking about the shape of the clouds

Is any less than the moments that we have celebrated

Whether it be our love or our triumphs

Because the little moments of joy that we look over are paper cranes in a glass jar

A single moment of joy is just a single crane that stands small in the horizon

But when pilled up

A colourful mess is everything

Our colourful mess is everything

A beautiful sky is made up of thousands of colours

Even a murky brown or simple beige plays a part in curating magnificence

So.. if the world was ending right now

Let’s not focus on the glass jar

Let us fold a single crane

And make it a pretty one

Because

If the world was ending right now

I would wish for nothing but a few more minutes for me to complain about doing laundry with you

I would wish for nothing but to be able to count all the freckles on your face

I would wish for nothing but to be able to steal the blanket from you as you push me off the bed

Because darling.. what if tomorrow we’re just a memory that no one remembers anymore

Because darling love is nothing special

Isn’t that love?

Familiar

Precious

Worth thinking about the end of the world for?

[mairon-goth-minion]

rosekiller

[thepeelingrenoir]

-An homage to Rae Armantrout

[sanders1665]

Two Old Farts

sixty's sneaking up on me—

like a thief in the night,

or a pulled muscle

after a hot shower.

just drying off,

nothing heroic,

no grand gesture,

and now I’m shuffling around

like a drunk crab,

huffing, puffing,

with this cushion

wedged behind my spine.

I laugh,

not because it’s funny,

but because what else

is there to do?

I see that kid,

barefoot and bulletproof,

running wild through fields,

climbing trees,

chasing girls with

sticky fingers and

a devil-may-care grin.

he’d double over now

if he saw me,

all creaks and groans,

cradled in this old recliner

like a king

whose kingdom

has turned on him.

but hell,

I’m not doing too bad.

look at the guys at work—

half my age

but twice my weight,

pockets rattling

with pill bottles.

me? just this back,

this nagging little bastard

that flares up,

then goes away,

like a bad friend

you can’t quite kick out.

the boy I was

laughs at the man I am.

the man I am

laughs right back.

because we’re both still here,

sharing space

in this weathered body,

watching life go by

and taking notes.

two old farts,

one young,

one older,

both thinking

they’ve got it all figured out.

[andileighwrites]

Desperate Rain

...

I will not heed the laughing rain

As it bankrupts the solid ground Beneath my shadow.

I can write in my mind that I am Autonomous

And able to sling from my boots The mud It's attempting to entomb me in.

The chortles are nothing more Than a sickly breath.

I am done listening to complaints As it attempts to dissolve me.

I will not heed the desperate rain.

...

Andi Leigh

[bronzetomatoes]

[opened-up]

your subtle projects you don’t finish 

cause you picture someone out there reading your mind

i’m watching the world through a window

i’m watching the world through your eye

white dimensions you make up

small soft spaces you construct 

giving up your palms to me 

one day it’ll come back 

as the most strange and real memory 

[echoesoftheinfinite]

But, you see, this is me, a beautiful mess. At times, I still lose myself, in my own vastness.

— Echoes of the Infinite

[foxbirdy]

A short comic I made about my experiences as a seasonal worker, and the way places change you.

Prints & PDF

[candiedspit]

my only goal of the day was to write a singular paragraph

[mumblesplash]

i say if you’re gonna have the mysterious entities speak in rhyme you might as well commit (EDIT: part 2!)

(posting an unprecedented Part 1 of At Least 3 bc i actually have the entire script and most of the storyboarding for this done already)