#poetry by theses

[hearts-of-the-innocent]

I want to sway in your ebbs and flows, around and around and around I’ll go.

I want to dance in your under toes,

tip toe with my bare feet-it’s your spirit I’ve come to know.

I want to be the salt in your hair, on your lips.

The light that navigates when you come and when you go.

It’s your spirit I’ve come to know

Don’t forget your way back home.

[the-joyfriend]

i deeply apologize if im liking your ancient posts (not rlly) im just re-entering my tomtord hyper fixation and yr art is scrumptious

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! could I request Argenti, Boothill and Jing Yuan when someone tries to flirt with their s/o? I absolutely adore your writing btw!! Hope you're doing good!!

Boothill

Has a bullet with their name written on it and it was in times like theses where he wishes his shit hadn’t been tampered with, just so he could curse the bastard out for merely brushing shoulders either you.

Words such as:

Mother fudger

Heck

And Gosh darn it

Weren’t exactly going to scare the person flirting with you off with their tail between their legs but threatening to shot them would. However after the person had scampered off, Boothill would be subjected to you scolding him about threatening people for simply flirting with you, when there were other ways to do so without the inclusion of unnecessary violence.

Boothill can’t help it! He hates it when people flirt with his darling and he isn’t one for sharing you either, he’d much rather hog all of your time and attention for himself! You were his partner! Not everyone else’s!

‘Boothill.’ You said warningly.

‘What?’ He said as he tugged you into his side, keeping his arm at your waist possessively. ‘He was getting a little too cosy and I had to remind that fudging idiot to keep his hands to himself.’ He adds with a smirk, stealing a kiss from your lips.

His jealously stems from his own hatred towards his metal body, you could find someone else who could feel you in your entirety beyond from their face and head, unlike him.

‘I get that and I thank you for running them off, but you know you don’t have to worry about me looking at anyone else.’ You reassured him as you held his face in your hands and watched as his smile falters and his featured relaxed into your touch. ‘You’re all I want, you’re all i’ll ever need regardless of your inability to physically feel.’ You then pressed your forehead against his, feeling him push himself further against you in a selfish need to feel you. ‘You’re my handsome, handsome cowboy.’ You whispered.

‘I am your handsome, handsome cowboy.’ He muttered under his breath.

Argenti

He’s not jealous in the slightest.

He’s the most trusting in the strength of your relationship and you to even allow for an ounce of doubt to permeate his thoughts.

If anything he’d agree with everything the person was saying about you while adding onto it, making the person feel as though their attempts at flirting with you were useless, especially when the cherry haired knight beside you was casually waxing poetry on your ethereal beauty.

‘Indeed they are a beauty to behold indeed.’ He’d say as he knelt before you and held your hands in his all the while making sure his eyes remained glued on you as he spoke. ‘I’d kneel before their alter for the rest of eternity if it meant achieving the impossible and catching their gaze, they truly are my reason for breathing, the reason I see beauty whenever I travel, as they are the true beauty I have been seeking for my whole life.’ He finishes by kissing the back of your hands softly, his thumbs caressing the skin there as though they were porcelain.

The person who was flirting with you left not long after because how could they compare with that?!

All they said was that you were cute and Argenti took that and made you come across as though you were a deity lost to time, finally having been found after so long.

They knew they couldn’t win and left for easier people to pull their mediocre pick up lines on.

Argenti is your Gomez, you are his Morticia. There was no one getting between you two because the love you had was stronger than most.

Jealousy doesn’t exist when you actually trust someone whom you claim is half of your own soul.

Jing yuan

He finds the face they make upon realising who’s s/o they’ve been flirting with particularly funny to be even remotely jealous.

Not to say that he doesn’t get jealous, he does but it’s not nearly as evident. He’s self assured in his relationship with you that he didn’t even think of the person flirting with you as a threat even in the slightest.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt your riveting conversation but I’d like my partner back now.’ He’d say as he stood behind the person flirting with you.

‘Look buddy I found them,’ the person looked behind them, and upon realising who was behind them, the words of annoyance were quickly discarded as they could only stare at a smiling Jing Yuan, ‘first…’

Jing yuan raised his brows as the Cheshire smile on his lips only grew at the evident regret across their face. ‘Hmmm? Cat got your tongue? You seem a bit pale, maybe you should go sit down and rest.’ He suggested and watched in amusement as the person didn’t fight back, but instead wordlessly followed his instruction and walked away for you both to go somewhere else.

‘You’re having too much fun with this.’ You’d tell Jing Yuan as he placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the establishment.

‘What can I say, their expressions may be the same every time but that doesn’t stop them from being more humorous than the last.’ He replies with a chuckle as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. ‘However I cannot blame them for finding you as appealing as I do if they’re so desperate as to flirt for your attention.’ He adds and you huff and crossed your arms. ‘As if you were any different.’

Jing yuan raised his brows, silently telling you to continue.

‘When you wanted my attention, you would sit next to me and rest your head on my shoulder before falling asleep.’ You added and Jing yuan chuckles. ‘I didn’t-‘

‘All. The. Time.’ You cut him off, emphasising each word that left your mouth. ‘Yangqing told me that you only did that to me, no one else got that special treatment from the all mighty general.’ You smirked at Jing Yuan who muttered a soft ‘Yangqing.’ under his breath as you held onto his side. ‘It doesn’t matter now because I thought it was extremely cute.’ You reassured him with a kiss to the cheek as you both walked home, tucked closely against one another, the events that happened prior having completely been forgotten as you reminisced the past.

[bittersweetresilience]

Félix reflects on fathers, and on monsters, and on dying.

eight hundred words of experimental prose poetry inspired by anne carson's nox, plato's phaedo, homer's iliad, rené descartes's meditations on first philosophy, jeffrey jerome cohen's monster culture seven theses, the ship of theseus, the fable of the scorpion and the frog, famous last words, the homestuck epilogues, and omori <3

written for @thefelixzine which you can find here

[bansheebeez]

On my way home from work,

Driving through the farming fields.

After the restaurant closes,

My mind is filled with poetry.

These nights driving back

I compose ballads about the sky

That I’m afraid to write down.

I’m afraid they’ll die with me.

I drive past landmarks

I wonder

“Will this be the last time I see the leaves of theses trees as curtains

Shielding the dark roads?”

I reach streets I once travelled down

I hope

“This is the last time I see those power lines in the distance.”

But these are poems too scary to keep on paper

Leaves, like curtains

Over a window to other worlds

And odes to an unblinking moon

-Brianna Fay, Ode

[hugemilkshake]

Broooo your insect cookies are SOOOO CUTE AND AWESOME!!!

Can I ask for Y/N x all of them (preferably romantic [poly if that’s allowed], but if platonic is better that’s fine-) and Y/N just cannot stop praising them and looking at their features? Just Y/N admiring them and cooing them like I, ME a person would to other insects.

(I must know more about them. I’m obsessed with them and I’m not ashamed to admit this-)

Enjoy the milkshake! I am excluding three cookies from the main group, these cookies are blushing snail bc they aren’t interested in romance and cinnamon spider and minty snail because they don’t live in the same area-

Bug pile!

-romantic for everyone except Blushing Snail-

Pink Mantis, Emperor Caterpillar, Peach Novius & Leaf Sheep Slug

This batch of cookies are very… interesting

Now they are nice and affectionate but very different from one another

For example Pink Mantis is the most affectionate out of the bunch

The most common thing to do with them is to walk on the beach but it and always to send a letter to the cookie over on beast yeasts shores

And that causes problems because Pink Mantis never gets a response and they don’t understand that they won’t ever get a response

Emperor Caterpillar is vastly different from Pink Mantis

Emperor Caterpillar will get you anything and everything that you ask

But he will flaunt you around and that can be a little annoying

But Peach Novius is more reserved

Peach Novius will attempt to read you romantic poetry but will fail because she struggles to read

And it honestly quite cute because of how embarrassed she gets (don’t make fun of her she’s trying)

Now if you do show some discomfort with something the others did then she will advocate for you but is usually unheard due to her quiet nature

But Leaf Sheep Slug is less quiet than Peach Novius.

Leaf Sheep Slug might be rude and brash but is actually pretty chill when you get to know him

He is the one you can rant to for hours and not be interrupted

Cinnamon Spider

Now to be with this bounty hunter you have to be okay with him being gone for days on end

Now Cinnamon Spider doesn’t enjoy leaving but has too because of work

But when the two of you are together he is such a sweet and caring partner

Blankets, cuddles and some hot chocolate (or cold since it’s the dessert-) are musts haves

Now Cinnamon Spider can’t cook but he will do his best for you

Minty Snail

Minty Snail is a nerd. Need I say less?

Minty Snail will definitely get you anything you need for your hobby

Now they aren’t very cuddly but they are very sweet and thoughtful when it comes to gifts

But he will cry if you give him a gift

Blushing Snail (platonic)

Blushing Snail is a very good friend

Might be clumsy but they are doing their best

They know the best spots to chill at

And they are actually very talkative even though they look very shy

Now Blushing Snail is quite adventurous and curious, wanting to actually travel into beast yeast and see where all of Pink Mantis’s letters actually go to

You have to convince them to not do that.

But the one common thing among theses cookies that that you make sure to tell them that they are beautiful because they dont necessarily look like other cookies

[varlaisvea]

You said it was OK to send you asks about eso npcs so...

There's an archivist in Summerset, Meredil at the Illumination Academy. He essentially gets possessed by the collective spirit of all the trashy romance novels he reads, but after the spell wears off he's terribly embarrassed of how forward he was with the Vestige.

Would you consider writing something where the Vestige visits him again afterwards? :3

Ah, thank you for the request! I had to go back and re-play that quest, so thank you for that too :)

I should warn you: unless requested otherwise, I think it's fun to write the Vestige as The Vestige, ie the race-less, genderless PC, the person with no memories who asks questions like what does a high king do, exactly? And for the record I don't mind writing ~spicy things, but I usually keep anon asks on the lighter side unless requested otherwise.

So, this is cheesy enough for [i am shot to prevent sheogorath jokes]. I HIGHLY doubt this is what you had in mind, but... enjoy?

Thank you so much for the request, anon! Anyone reading this should feel free to submit more, if the spirit moves you.

(2k words, PG-rated, allusions to sex)

----------

We check up on all the students and faculty as we’re leaving the Illumination Academy. A lot of them are embarrassed after being transformed into book characters, but Bastian and I had a great time here. For me, it was because I got to mess with people a little bit, which I rarely get to do when I’m Serving The People Of Tamriel. For Bastian, it was because we took the time to stand around and read dozens of musty books. I mean, the ones I read were interesting, but he was reading things with titles like The Quarandil Theses and Perspectives on First Era Pastoralist Poetry. I love the guy, but how would I even know if one of those books suddenly possessed him and became his personality, like happened to the students today? At least I learned a lot from everything I read.

I get distracted by the fish pond near the gate, and soon someone appears next to me—Meredil, the archivist I spoke to in the school.

“I'm glad I caught you—I really must apologize again for my forward behavior earlier,” he says, laughing a bit nervously. "This is not the first mishap we've had with the Library of Shrieking Terror."

“Oh,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t care at all. Your version of the curse actually seemed kind of fun.”

His laugh gets more nervous. “Well I’d never deny that, though ironically what remains of it gets less fun by the moment... Anyway, look, I realize this is quite awkward, given what I’ve just said about my… current state of affairs, but let that only serve to underscore the fervor of my curiosity.” He swallows uncomfortably, and looks away for a moment. “I must ask you: how is it that your armor is glowing like that?”

I’m not sure what I’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. “You know, I don’t know? I guess I assumed it was enchantments?”

He looks astonished. “You can’t possibly tell me no one has asked you before, in your line of work.”

I shrug. “I don’t really know what my line of work is. Lots of people call me ‘adventurer’—do you not see many adventurers in these parts?”

“Oh, goodness; I am only a hundred fifteen years old, but I have seen a fair number of adventurers in these parts.” His eyes go wide. “Oh, don’t listen to me,” he says playfully. “Since the Queen’s decree, we do see travelers and wayfarers of many sorts, but, well… I can’t say too many of them go into the depths of the archives.” He sighs. “Stars, I need to get out more.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I’ve certainly seen some fancy adventuring gear but that…” He looks at my outfit in admiration. “Well-designed, well-fitting, and glowing! I’ve never seen a glow enchantment quite like that—I spent several long moments trying to calculate how one might go about amplifying an enchantment for such purposes before my curiosity got the better of me, and I hoofed it out here to see if I could find you to ask about it.”

“Ha, I really hadn’t thought about it much,” I say, now keenly aware of how brightly my gear is glowing, even in the late morning sunlight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better answer.”

“Oh, don’t apologize at all,” he says. “Really, I had to know if it was something simple I hadn’t thought of, and otherwise, I couldn’t miss my chance to talk with someone with access to something like that. I don’t mean to be off-putting, but I imagine you must be a wildly interesting person.”

“Ah, well…” For some reason I’m more honest with this mer than I usually am when people say stuff like that to me. “Actually, I don’t think I’m all that interesting, as a person. When that guy’s bored of you?” I gesture to Bastian, who’s behind me staring up at the sky in abject boredom. He doesn’t even hear me. “That’s dull. At first when I got here, I was trying the same boring tactics to un-curse people as the mer who cursed everyone to begin with, whom everyone only-semi-affectionately described as boring.” I turn around. “Hey B, sorry for taking so long bud, you can take five if y—” Bastian’s gone before I can finish the sentence. “See?”

Meredil huffs. “If you’ve managed to obtain adventuring gear like that, you automatically have at least one interesting story, no? Likely many more than one."

“Oh, yeah. I have a ton of ‘em.”

“Then, I am interested to know how one could live an objectively interesting life and not be an objectively interesting person.”

“Well, I don’t remember most of my life—long story—but I could tell you a few tales about fighting dragons, or rescuing royalty?”

“Wait!” Meredil laughs. “You’re not just some adventurer, are you! You’re the Vestige of Coldharbour!” He grins wide. “Am I right?”

“Lots of adventurers fight dragons and rescue royalty. Right?” You’d think this conversation would get easier.

“Handfuls of people, but yes. But most of them have songs sung about them—you know them when you see them.” He makes a thinking face with his hand to his chin. “You stopped the Planemeld.”

I nod.

He stares at me for a few moments. “I’d assumed that when you won your soul back from Molag Bal, you’d gotten your memories back too… But, your memory begins when you became a hero?”

“Pretty much,” I say, smiling as I do when I’m reminded that strangers know details about my life from bard songs and rumors. Several moments of uncomfortable silence pass.

“So, those dragon-slaying and royalty-rescuing stories are the only ones you’ve got,” he says, meeting my eyes.

“Uh, yeah…” I sit down beside the fish pond. “And now I have a pretty good one about this place.” We share a pleasant laugh. “So… what do you think is interesting? I’ve got vampire lords, risky assassinations, multiple giant crabs… One time the ghost of a pirate turned me into a skeleton for a little while.”

He shakes his head. “I may spend my days in a place that could be mistaken for a mausoleum, cerum, but this tomb has books in it—I’ve read and catalogued all sorts of monster stories and political plots. Of course it is my honor to do so, but that has been much of my exposure to the world.” He sits down next to me. “But a perspective like yours, I don’t think I’d find in a book. Stumbling into an extraordinary life with no memory of an ordinary one. Learning about the world by saving it. Learning about people while constantly seeing them at their worst.” He smiles expectantly.

I just stare at him. “Ah, well…” No one says stuff like that to me. “I’ll be honest, I still don’t know what’s going on a lot of the time.”

“How would you? There are little children older than the length of your memory.”

Why have I never thought of that? “Most people ask about the ancient temples and Daedric demi-planes I’ve seen—or if they’re drunk, they ask how many famous people I’ve slept with.”

“Oh, I hate when I’m asked that question,” Meredil says dryly.

“People ask me about stuff they’ve heard I’ve done. I guess I’ve just always figured that means I’m not very interesting as a person? But honestly, it doesn’t bother me—I don’t have any memories to compare it to. And I can’t really blame people for asking about my adventures instead of asking about me—today was a fairly slow day for me, if that tells you anything.”

Meredil stares at me with a sad sort of look I can’t decipher.

“Um. I actually read a lot of books." Why am I lying to this mer? “Well, I skim some of them. But, uh… they’re a surprising amount of my exposure to the world, too.”

“You’re learning about statecraft and magic at the same time you’re learning, er… how to… socialize, make friends!" Meredil smiles at me, amused. "You’ve had to figure out the plots of Princes while you figure out how to navigate small talk.”

I nod slowly. “I have to ask a lot of stupid questions, but I’m learning.”

Meredil laughs. “Cerum, that is far more interesting than slaying dragons! And you wear armor fit for Auri-El himself!”

“Thank you,” I say, not knowing what else to say. “People don’t usually…” I trail off as I meet his eyes.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you," he says excitedly. "If not for that curse, I’d never have hit on the Vestige of Coldharbour, eh? Imagine! Ha! I can’t wait to write Mother. It is an honor to have flirted with you,” he says, bowing his head.

“Ha, I don’t know about that,” I say. “Flirting is one of those things I’ve had to learn along with slaying undead and such. I’m way better at re-killing liches. I mean, sorry, you were great at it, in my opinion—you’ve definitely read the books."

“I’m flattered that you appreciated my technique, ceruval. Those steamy books certainly increased my skill and potency, though; I could feel it. And the confidence they gave me…” He looks at me with a seductive grin. “Oh, imagine if you’d come upon me after I’d had a chance to read a bit more? I might be asking you a thousand fascinated personal questions with far fewer clothes, and from the comfort of a warm feather bed.” He looks away with faux innocence. “That offer is still good, of course.”

People say things like that to me all the time. I usually laugh and change the subject, but I find myself just staring at Meredil, trying to think of something funny to say. Why am I trying to think of something funny?

Meredil notices my lack of response, and hastily clears his throat. “Sorry,” he says, “the curse has been broken, but the downside of my particular variant is that its effects still very much remain, with no magic necessary.” He laughs nervously. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see to the situation.” He doesn’t move. “Uh, but… I can’t quite stand up just yet. You’ll need to walk away first, I’m afraid.”

I don’t move. “I realized something... interesting,” I say, after what feels like a very long pause. “I need to learn more about flirting and, uh, you know, all of that. I remember you saying you know where each and every one of those steamy books is filed. Don’t you?”

He stares at me in utter fear for just a moment, then says, quietly, “It would be my deep pleasure to guide your hand to them, of course. But I am in no state to assume I have taken your full meaning correctly, cerum. Tell me, am I being propositioned by the Vestige of Coldharbour?”

I panic a little—I wanted to read the steamy books; I wasn’t propositioning him. Was I? He was uncommonly kind to me… Was I? Guess I really don’t know anything about flirting. But… come to think of it, I do have several friends who can flirt their way into a bank vault or chieftain’s tent. What would they do? Razum-dar would instantly think of some wordplay that is simultaneously threatening, solicitous, and clever—I try to do that. First I shoot Meredil my best Jakarn eye-twinkle. “Hm, even if you are being propositioned by the Vestige of Coldharbour,” I say, with sultry Naryu nonchalance, “do you really think anyone would believe a story like that?” This marks the first time I have ever propositioned someone using that title, or any of my many titles. Feels slimy. Probably won’t try it again.

Luckily, Meredil is not put off. “Why assume I’m in it for the story?” he says. “Perhaps you’ll be the one telling the tale. Tales, preferably—especially after that curse, what I have to share could fill volumes, Vestige.”

We only get through one book, but it takes the rest of the day and evening. Meredil's feeling much better now, and he says I am welcome to return to Illumination Academy anytime I need more study. And it seems I’ve misjudged my dear friend Bastian Hallix: it turns out, Perspectives on First-Era Pastoralist Poetry is graphically sexually explicit and, in places, lyrically erotic. Interesting.

[thethyri]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐈❟ 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 & 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

STICKY NOTE *𖧧₊‧ All the originals Gods are mine, which are Belyx, Melyx, Narrax, Valyx, Torghos, Tyxes, Verraxes and Vormion. Please be respectful and do not steal these names, as it took me a lot of time to find and create theses names (with the help of this Reddit post)

THE SERIE MENU. + French Ver. + Archive Of Our Own. + THE GUILD OF DRAGONLINGS SERVER. + Playlist. ₊‧ 

𝐈.𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒. ⊰‧₊˚･ the primary deities of the valyrian pantheon.

𖦹. VORMION❟ God of Consolation, of Protection and Honesty. Husband of Shrykos. 𖦹. BALERION❟ God of Death, of Doom and Gardien of the Souls. Brother of Morghul. 𖦹. CARAXES❟ God of Envy, of Chaos, of Misfortune and of Vengeance. Brother of Meraxes. 𖦹. VERMAX❟ God of Health, of Youth, of Glory and of Abundance. Son of Syrax. 𖦹. ARRAX❟ God of Hope, of Charity, of Luck and of the Sun. Son of Syrax. Husband of Belys. 𖦹. MORGHUL❟ God of Judgment, of Justice, of Honor and Winter, brother of Balerion. 𖦹. MERAXES❟ Goddess of Mercy, of Loyalty and of Triumph. Sister of Caraxes. 𖦹. BELYS❟ Goddess of Miracles, of the Stars and the Moon. One of the Three Wielders Of Fate. Weaver of The Yesterdays. Servant of Tessarion. Wife of Arrax. 𖦹. TESSARION❟ Goddess of Oracles, of Prophecies and of Destiny. 𖦹. NARRAX❟ God of Prosperity, of Blessings and Fortune. One of the Three Wielders Of Fate. Weaver of The Todays. Servant of Tessarion. Husband of Terrax. Father of Verraxes. 𖦹. VERMITHOR❟ God of Thunder, of Storms and of Heavens. Son of Vhagar. 𖦹. SYRAX❟ Goddess of Virtues, of Matrimony, of Fertility and of Love. Mother of Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes. 𖦹. VHAGAR❟ Goddess of War, of Valor, of Strategy and of Victory. Mother of Vermithor. 𖦹. MELYX❟ Goddess of Wisdom, of Mercy and Clairvoyance. One of the Three Wielders Of Fate. Weaver of The Tomorrows. Servant of Tessarion. Twin of Valyx. 𝐈.𝐈𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒. ⊰‧₊˚･ a few of the lesser deities of the pantheon.

𖦹. VERRAXES❟ God of Chivalry, of Bravery and of Summer. Son of Terrax and Narrax. 𖦹. SHRYKOS❟ Goddess of Harvest, of Hunt and Dawn, wife of Vormion. 𖦹. TERRAX❟ Goddess of Mead, of Pleasure, of Peace and of Autumn. Sister of Urrax. Wife of Narrax. Mother of Verraxes. 𖦹. TYRAXES❟ God of Mountains, of Valleys, of Meadows, of Fields, of Forests, of Winds and of Dusk. Son of Syrax. 𖦹. VALYX❟ Goddess of Poetry, of Chants, of Riddles and of Music. Twin of Melyx. 𖦹. TORGHOS❟ God of Resurrection, of Funerals, of Death, of Hells, Judge of the Souls and Gardien of The Fourteen Flames. Servant of Balerion. 𖦹. TYXES❟ God of Rituals, of Prayers, of Offerings and of Sacrifices. Servant of Balerion. 𖦹. MELEYS❟ Goddess of Rivers, of Oceans, of Rains and of Spring. 𖦹. URRAX❟ God of Volcanoes, of Fire, of Magma, of the Hearth, of Warmth and of Growth. Brother of Terrax.

©TheThyri. All rights content belong to @thethyri. Do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works in any way or on any other platform without my permission. Gifs rightfully belongs to @daenerys-stormborn​. 

[wishing-stones]

would they ever try to write something? some short stories, poems, love letters… hell, maybe even a book? maybe even something more silly just to pass the time?

Killer is garbage at words and doesn't even do his own written debriefing. He usually pays someone else off to write it. Dust has scraps of poetry hanging around, but he hates them all. He doesn't have any patience for it and is hyper-critical of his own work Axe writes okay, but nothing creative. He might be your love letter guy. Sometimes he does other's mission reports, but that's about it. Cross winds up doing the bulk of Killer's debriefings and mission reports. He's good at practical stuff, but... not so great at creative writing. He'll definitely leave love letters though. Baggs is skilled at writing because he has to be. Most of what he does is observations, hypotheses, theses, and other such clinical documentation. He has a couple essays he's written hanging around, as well as lessons and speeches, since he does occasionally hold lectures at Hotland University. He dabbles a little in creative writing, but no one ever gets to see it. (it's horrible human bodice-ripper-level romance, and it will never see the light of day, which I recall being mentioned by his creator jokingly(?) but I'm stealing it in absolute seriousness) Nightmare is your author. He writes enough to have his own system of bureaucracy regarding missions, debriefings, the works. On his spare time, he is a rather gifted poet and does write some prose every now and again. There's a couple books written by him floating around the castle, although if he hasn't told you, you'd never know, because he uses a different pen name every single time. He also writes love letters because he is a massive tryhard showboater romantic who enjoys that sort of thing.

[mildew-dread-mold]

struck with a sudden violent fantasy to spend a summer in a house one of the small-ish towns on the island near my city with some friends while doing graduate school and we can write our theses on the beach and go biking and apple picking and make dinner and play music and watch mamma mia! and do karaoke and go to bookstores and bakeries and go on picnics and make cookies and read poetry and hike and

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

Late diet of wormsposting 🐛🍝 bc i was fighting for my life now ft bad poetry. Full poem below the cut 💀 cw religious trauma and the usual suspects

"Plus Ultra"

Pariah but raised Protestant I learnt to read the moniker at face value Raised to place Luther Revolutionary against institution On a pedestal By my fire-and-brimstone preacher

Denouncing the foundations of my being Draped in priestly black He is big and brash and bullying Has a cult following Bellowing across the pulpit Whilst I try to block it out

This rebel accused Is not eloquent or commanding Like the one I thought I was 500 years ago Called to defend myself on the stand.

How the tables have turned against us. Too messy to be 'Holy' Too obscure to be 'Roman' Always being told to close my mouth Hanging open like I have something to say but no words come out I am the Emperor A newly licensed adult Skin and bone in feathered hat and flamboyant fur I look so small.

The enemy in every retelling Ugly as sin Only too easy to cast as boogeyman Too easy to distance from and turn against Lord knows what happens to those who sit with the transgressors Lest this unsightliness might be contagious.

But Charles the Fifth is not the villain in his own story And this is not how I will go down in my history.

You will nail your theses, but I'll throw them out my door No portrait can make this identity palatable but I no longer wish to be painted out I will push further, beyond I have fought to keep my crown You will not take away my legitimacy This intersectional birthright is my God-given blessing And this empire I have built from ground up is holy

So I'm done weighing all the doubts I do myself justice And sentence you heretic on my promised land.

[geryone]

hi i hope it's okay to ask you this!

i love how poetry makes me feel, but i've never really built up that love. i read blurbs on tumblr and i have a couple of poetry books by specific writers, but i want to be exposed to much more. my question is, basically, how do i do that? i've gone to poetry sites and just started clicking through works, but there's so many different styles and time periods. i usually get frustrated because i don't enjoy what i've randomly clicked on the first ten or so times.

i know i would probably enjoy modern (like 1960s on) poetry and i have an interest in queer poetry too

That’s definitely a start! I mostly read contemporary poetry & the way I’ve found some recent favorites has been through tumblr (seeing quotes I’ve enjoyed & checking them out) & Instagram! I recommend using resources like your local library to check out different poets & subjects & styles which will save you some money while you’re narrowing down what you enjoy. Personally I prefer to read collections about death & grief and so I know to be on the look out for new collections that reference that in the blurb.

A couple collections by contemporary poets about queerness:

Dispatch: Poems by Cameron Awkward-Rich

Wound from the Mouth of a Wound by torrin a. greathouse

Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Díaz

Don't Call Us Dead by Danez Smith

Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong

day/break by Gwen Benaway

This Wound Is a World by Billy-Ray Belcourt

When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities by Chen Chen

If you enjoy what I post & want to read similar things theses are some of my personal favorites:

Kingdom Animalia by Aracelis Girmay

Deluge by Leila Chatti

Sanctificum by Chris Abani

Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod by Traci Brimhall

I Will Tell this Story to the Sun Until You Remember that You are the Sun by Erin Slaughter

Headless John the Baptist Hitchhiking by C. T. Salazar

Calling a Wolf a Wolf by Kaveh Akbar

This is getting kind of long but I wanted to mention that the first two collections that got me into poetry and that I love to this day are:

Crush by Richard Siken

Averno by Louise Glück

[mysticmsmatrix]

please not again 🎭

these feelings I’ve been struggling to release are starting to strangle me

I am afraid if I let out this beast of pain I won’t return back to the same me

I won’t be able to stop the tears that I’m so anxious to let rain upon me

I believe I was better mentally , that things didn’t haunt me

I was wrong & now again I beg myself, please not again , a new season has arrived

I don’t want to fall so far down I forget how high I once was & why I am here

I don’t want to be consumed by theses self eating thoughts that tell me I’ll never be understood anyone on this planet called earth

I don’t want to believe again that my gullible heart is my biggest curse

im sorry , I apologize

sometimes I don’t realize how I’ve lost my mind

I always loose it in silence

silent cries , silent screams , quiet signs

why scream to the world that I am not alright

asking for help feels like I am extending my burdens

asking for help shows that the girl they see spreading light is actually feeling dark inside & is hurting

I’m not used to crying on shoulders & being hugged tight until I beg for closure

so i refuse most of the time , stupidly, pridefully & hypocritically

all the advice in the world that I’ve given & still I can’t take mines

I’ve ran so many circles around my mind

I am dizzy , exhausted & over trying

most days I want to melt into springs of my bed with sad tunes playing in my head

when I am stricken down by the weight of my flaws it feels like I am dying

yet I am always trying , I’ve always tried

daily trying my best to not be engulfed once again

to not loose myself completely in my mess

my grief , my trauma & self reflections

tears fill my eyes when I look in the mirror sometimes

terror runs through my veins when I speak aloud what I’m feeling inside

the paper I write my poetry on is my safest place

yet then people still don’t truly understand the meaning behind my lines

I got this i tell myself , I pray, holding onto faith

as my entirety is pleading , please not again

hoping I can listen to myself

that maybe I’ll heal properly this time & not so all over the place

as currently i am scattered within with my soul , heart & mind.

-themysticmatrix

[humanconditionpoetry]

Money, the Defination

Hello Everyone, I hope that today is going well for you! If your day just started, I hope you are alright and things will go well today. If any of you remember, I did a poll yesterday to determine which poem shall be posted next. The overwhelming majority choose Money, the Definition. Well, here it is and I hope you all liked it!

That said, as always I appreciate feedback and constructive criticism on my poems as I hope to one day publish theses poems. If you are going to provide feedback, please do so in a kind and respectful matter.

As Always, please check out the blog if you can as I have other poetry on there as well!

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

HumanConditionPoetry

[bluiex]

A WHOLE TAG?? FOR ME?? FOR MY LITTLE AU??? AAAA!!! /POS

So. Watcher Royal Hierarchy, and courtship etiquette, go!

First off, The Hierarchy. It’s split into six groups: The Seen, The Workers, The Guards, The Servants, The Council, And The Ruler. But, the society can still run with only five of the six present. (This will be important later ;]).

The Seen are basically the Peasants, and they can be anyone from a prisoner, to a Worker or Guard’s child, or someone who simply lives there, typically for some sort of fee. They don’t get any special treatment, and, despite not technically being workers, they can work mundane daily jobs, or create art and writings, or just not work at all. They are typically not permitted to leave the premises of the caverns

The Workers are exactly what they sound like. They are paid usually large sums of diamonds, and any peasant, if not a prisoner or currently a child, can be moved up to a Workers position within a month or two. They are permitted to leave the Caverns on designated days, and typically only for work related reasons.

The Guards are also exactly what they sound like. Typically, they are born into their position, or train extensively for their spot. The Guards both guard outside the Caverns, and inside, typically keeping the Seen and Workers from escaping. They also are allowed to leave the caverns, as long as they promise to return with either prisoners, or some new people. If they don’t return, they are typically hunted down and thrown in the dungeons, or simply killed on the spot.

The Servants Are the highest level that any ordinary watcher can be appointed to. They work within the castle, usually close with the Ruler. They are all promised a room in the castle, and comfy living for their whole families. Servants who work closely with the ruler tend to be the favorites, usually very close with them, and a few always tend to hover around them. Typically, they are fluent in both english and the local watcher language.

The Council. This is the odd one. Being on the Watcher’s royal council is just about the highest honor the royals could give you. These are typically made up of lovers, best friends, enemies, and close family. Now, a Ruler can technically rule without a council. As Grian had no surviving family, close friends, enemies, or lovers, who were available to serve on the council.

The Ruler. The top of the food chain. The most powerful, adored and feared member of the watchers. Typically, if you ask anyone about the watchers, they’ll have a picture of the ruler, or past rulers, in mind.

Now, for Courtship Etiquette. Typically, Watchers will create things for their mates in hopes of catching their attention. Poetry and Sculptures have been common courting gifts in the past. Gifts of vines and plants for the home are seen as romantic as well, handing over a gift of life to your lover. Typically, Watchers who are also hybrids with something else, will have their own species courting rituals as well. Grian is no exception, though his species of bird is unknown. Offers of intimacy and affection, for example, sharing a bed or hugs, are seen as extremely romantic, as watchers tend to keep to their own personal space. Along with jewelry for proposals, they will also give poetry, sometimes sharing things they’ve observed about the other. It’s also a common tradition to go out and do something completely new when trying to court someone, or as an engagement date. [Skydiving, People watching, river tubing, horse racing, etc]. Yeah so, Grian offering for Scar and Mumbo to share the bed with him was 100% flirting, which is why he sent the remaining servants off to bed. :] -bird

OMMMGGG I LOVE THESES

Ough okay imagine they're all in bed, Grian in the middle of the two cuddling him. Grian starts to quietly recite his favorite poetry, or stuff he made himself.. Scar an Mumbo are so in raptured with it-

Ofc they're clueless as to what all the means (as of right now) and they're just like "wow.. That was so beautiful Grian." And praise him deeply. Grian is so flushed and squirming cuz that's a really high praise of a complement from those he's courting

[litcest]

Heya! I've been wondering, so you know any poems about incest? Either explicitly describing love between family members, or like love poems from incestuous couples, anything like that

Hi, sorry for taking so long to answer. I didn't have any recs because I'm not much a poetry girly (unless it's sapphic poetry - I mean Emily Dickinson); but I did some quick searches and I found two papers talking about this subject and right now I don't have the time to go over them, but I'll soon.

If you want to check out yourself, here they are:

Glass, Loren. “Blood and Affection: The Poetics of Incest in ‘Manfred’ and ‘Parisina.’” Studies in Romanticism, vol. 34, no. 2, 1995, pp. 211–26. https://doi.org/10.2307/25601113.

Richardson, Alan. “The Dangers of Sympathy: Sibling Incest in English Romantic Poetry.” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900, vol. 25, no. 4, 1985, pp. 737–54. https://doi.org/10.2307/450672.

If you don't have a subscription to theses academic libraries, please DO not use scihub to freely unlock and read the papers. * wink wink *

Also, there's the Song of Solomon (or Song of Songs) which is not incestuous in the context it was written, but taking literally, it can be considered so nowadays.

"Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices! Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon. A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed."

From the King James Version of the Bible