#poetry mention as always

[nearlymello]

Lawlight headcannons

Oddly enough, I am fairly uhm, isolated from tumblr sadly. It's shocking how this platform is one that's very alike with my interests and fun and I cannot find the courage to come on here.

But here are some gayass headcannons:

1)

L unironically reads poetry just to piss Light off. They'll be sleeping and L will have the lamp on and reciting poems from poets like Paul Verlaine while whispering almost, and Light would be furious.

L: "Before your light quite fail,

Already paling star,

The quail

Sings in the thym-"

Light: "Ryuzaki."

L: "Yes Light?"

Light: "May you please shut it."

Nightly occurrence, 100%.

2)

L has asked Light multiple times what his favourite cake is. Light assumes that it's some plot to find out if he is Kira, but in reality L just wants to know what Lights favourite cake is to assess their similarities.

3)

They used to share the same bed but then they realised that they would fight too much over blankets, pillows, which side to sleep, and more so they just gave up. (Light sleeps on the bed, L sleeps on a chair close to the bed if he even sleeps that night.)

4)

Oddly enough, Light before the death note disliked Dostovesky and then when he became a suspect for the Kira case and was chained to L he was obsessed with Dostovesky. But on the other side L hated Osamu Dazai until the Kira case. This happens as they both influenced each other to read each writers books.

This only happened due to L constantly quoting Dostovesky and Light reading No Longer Human before he sleeps which in L's eyes is "Odd."

////

I'm too sleepy for more. Night, night.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[words-and-coffee]

Kupu rere kē My friend was advised to italicise all the foreign words in her poems. This advice came from a well-meaning woman with NZ poetry on her business card and an English accent in her mouth. I have been thinking about this advice. The convention of italicising words from other languages clarifies that some words are imported: it ensures readers can tell the difference between a foreign language and the language of home. I have been thinking about this advice. Marking the foreign words is also a kindness: every potential reader is reassured that although you’re expected to understand the rest of the text, it’s fine to consult a dictionary or native speaker for help with the italics. I have been thinking about this advice. Because I am a contrary person, at first I was outraged — but after a while I could see she had a point: when the foreign words are camouflaged in plain type you can forget how they came to be there, out of place, in the first place. I have been thinking about this advice and I have decided to follow it. Now all of my readers will be able to remember which words truly belong in Aotearoa and which do not.

Alice Te Punga Somerville, Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised - Kupu rere kē

[hells-plaid-angel]

Dean Winchester: Reading Recommendations

Because I headcannon Dean as a reader, here is a list of books that I think he would like. Some are directly referenced in the show, others are odes to America and a life on the road complete with horror, satire or complicated family issues. And, of course, some books manage to meet at the twist of the mobius strip where toxic masculinity and homoeroticism collide.

Books of Blood - Clive Barker 

Imajica - Clive Barker 

The Complete Poems - Hart Crane 

Hard Rain Falling - Don Carpenter 

Our Share of Night - Mariana Enriquez 

Catch-22 - Joseph Heller 

Iliad - Homer 

Jesus’ Son - Denis Johnson 

East of Eden - John Steinbeck

My Heart Is a Chainsaw - Stephen Graham Jones 

On the Road - Jack Kerouac 

Christine - Stephen King 

The Road - Cormac McCarthy

The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

Survivor - Chuck Palahniuk 

The Moviegoer - Walker Percy

The Devil All the Time - Donald Ray Pollock

A Season in Hell - Arthur Rimbaud

Crush - Richard Siken

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson

Cat’s Cradle - Kurt Vonnegut 

Slaughterhouse Five - Kurt Vonnegut

Time is a Mother - Ocean Vuong

Leaves of Grass - Walt Whitman 

Butcher’s Crossing - John Williams 

[vesper-leroy]

ETERNALLY YOURS

Tell me,

Do you believe in infinity?

The fake blue sky full of animosity

Staring down with it's endless eyes

Swallowing us up with blind desire

Our love is eternal

The bounds of reality

Hold no ties to me

With you by my side

These unforgiving nights

Flaring up with unwavering light

Believe me,

We are two bodies but share one soul,

Existence tied to a pretence of hope

Even under their loathsome eyes

Ones foreseeing our faithful demise

Under their blinding lights

My angel in black with pride

With me by your side

In our matching beats

Your life is guaranteed

For our love is eternal

Our love is eternal

Our love is eternal

Our love is-

Our love was eternal.

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

gods im such a stereotypical apollo worshipper

[onebloodsoakedlion]

My Fire Emblem Fates Incorrect Quotes Episode 2

Here's another 25 incorrect quotes because I just can't stop making them!

WARNING: This post contains spoilers!

Ah, there's Ryoma's trauma! He remembers what happened to him in the Conquest route!

...I'm pretty sure that's gotta be traumatic. After all, committing seppuku must be a painful way to die. That's probably going to leave a mark on anyone's minds, even someone like Ryoma.

[mayashesfly]

Honestly, I really love how poetry and wordplay is such an integral part of Yuma and Makoto's character. How they use such words to reflect on themselves and the world around them.

It truly shows that despite their logical side, despite being dubbed as the "greastest mind of the world", they're still human in essence. Because they can still view the world through colored lenses and the ambiguity of imagination. Of emotions and ideals that are not actually completely rooted in hard cold logic.

The clash of the ideals Yuma and Makoto shares and the creed forced upon them by the WDO meld into a fascinating multi-faceted character. Whose multiple sides we can see and share due to their odd coexistence via strange circumstances. It also somewhat makes it hard to talk about one of them without mentioning the other when they're so interwined together.

I really do love it.

[milkyspine]

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! oh my goodness. i am SO sorry i didn’t say anything earlier. i did read everything a couple days ago, and i Have been chewing on it, rotating it in my mind, etc etc…..and the graphic has been my phone lockscreen since i first read it!!!!!

frankly i am obsessed and have also been a little frazzled this month lol. saw your post late because of the general whirlwind that is december and then couldn’t quite get my thoughts into sufficient words n got worried “oh no would it be weird to say something now…..” which is incredibly silly in retrospect, so sorry for that. 

i’m relatively new to hockey fandom and the Narratives don’t always quite click for me (yet, at least :)) because i don’t know all of the lore for a lot of the popular pairings haha, so it means a lot that you’ve taken time out of your day to break things down for me and share your own thoughts <3 tysm. again, super sorry for the delayed response. i’m very sorry if you felt as though you’d wasted your time or something along those lines :’) just wanted to let you know that i really appreciate you and the time it took you to get everything down and make the graphic!!!! and like i can’t overstate how much your tags both over here and on your other blog have helped me to Get It since the start of this season, so thank you.

but now the house is quiet, the in-laws are gone, and no new work stuff until january :) so i can finally get some stuff down. every point you brought up hits in it own way but gosh you are very incredibly right the mcstrome of it all…..that’s sort of the lens i’ve been listening to the song through since you mentioned it.

the golden boy and the “draft bust” and the ever present notion of “isn’t it all about old friends? like everything? all of it?”.  like idk looking back on a bestfriendship from when you were a teenager that was Super intense and the lines were blurred and maybe realizing (if you hadn’t had the words or the “guts” or awareness or wtv to put a name to it at that point in your life) that y’all were a smidge more than just friends. 

best friends forever until you just aren’t! growing up and growing apart. it’s just the way things go but it can and will ache for a damn long time! you think you’re over it until their birthday or the holidays roll around and you wonder in a distant sort of way who they’re spending it with. what you would’ve hypothetically gotten them as a present if you still spoke. what do they even like nowadays, anyway?

maybe having the friendship end subtly. going from playing and traveling together and living in one another’s pockets to 2,080 miles of distance? (i may have my timeline/details confused here so sorry in advance) texting as much as you can at first but he’s a phenom he’s mcjesus he’s the next in line he’s expected to win the cup with his new team and end the drought for Canada. and they have him now but he was yours first, wasn’t he? but it’s fine. because you’re busy too. you’re captaining the team now. you’re gonna get the memorial cup that he couldn’t. it’s fine. you’re fine. you don’t even have time to worry about it anyway. 

one conversation a week turns to one a month turns to once in a blue moon turns to stale words until it goes cold. these days you can’t quite seem to remember who ended things, but does it really matter all that much now?

or maybe it doesn’t end like that at all. maybe it ends in a flurry of angry words and digs in some or other of the endless hotel rooms you’ve shared together over the years. who knows!

and that’s not even getting into the rest of the 2015 draft class. or the ld19 of it all! ooh hoo hoo. you grew up with him but he’s not your waiting room. he grew up with you but he’ll grow “old” (end his career) with someone else. and isn’t that just something! 

i don’t think it’s totally them, but sort of the sentiment of “I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I never hear a word about it.” I want one ticket off of your carousel!!!! merry christmas, please don’t call!!!!!!!

dylan being sent up and down and traded around until finally landing in washington, a place where he is clearly at home and LOVED for the guy and player he is!!!!!!!! watching a game and seeing all the strome jerseys in the crowd……..wagh.

all that said. some other songs that are mcstrome to me in various ways: hot & heavy by lucy dacus (lol kinda the whole song). before the world was big by girlpool (“i just miss how it felt standing next to you wearing matching [jerseys? sweaters?] before the world was big”). happiness by Taylor swift (“i guess it’s the price i pay for seven years in heaven”), cut your bangs by radiator hospital (maybe? possibly? unsure. i like the whole dog thing there). i’m so glad i feel this way about you by insignificant other (!!!!!). there are so many THEM lyrics in there……..waough.

anyway. other things off the top of my head: 2015 connor specifically saying something like “hey let’s wait a minute so we can see this” to stand by the stage when dylan was getting drafted after him. MAN. you reminded me of the fact that they couldn’t even make eye contact at the handshake line!!!!!!!!! they didn’t go to each other’s weddings!!!!!!!!!! (do you think once upon a time they ever thought they’d being each other’s best man?). just a couple months ago dylan liking the tweet of connor getting that goal during the playoffs!!!!!!!! makes you wonder if he texted him………..

lol this was all over the place and i was probably wrong on some things and there’s SO much more that someone else could say way more eloquently, but i digress. i dunno everything about them is so nuts to me!!!!! needless to say i will be incredibly sat for the game january 21 🙂‍↕️

thank you again for your time :) hope you have a good one and a happy rest of the holiday season! <3333333

what a lovely message to receive 🥰😭🥹 i had to break it up into chunks because i couldn't sit down to read all of it at once without just. bouncing right back up and shrieking. i am also at heart terribly shy so i understand the struggle but it is never too late to say something <3 you are always welcome here

first!!! i love sharing!! i think most of hockey tumblr loves to see people finding out the Lore for the first time and the wonderful thing about hockey is that. it keeps going on. so there's years and years and generations and generations and always something new to learn about. i've learned to just not be afraid to ask!!! between different teams and players i'm always discovering new narratives (learning about the sharks old man yaoi rn... cbj rarepairs...)

no... to my heart's despair... you have the timeline right. i think in the best most tragic sense there's a mcstrome narrative where it is truly that nothing went wrong. the love was there. we couldn't do enough to save it because we didn't see it slipping away. i didn't notice when you didn't call until you never did. i don't know you now but i still remember when i did, do you?

HE'S NOT YOUR WAITING ROOM?? passing out. i do see "i hope you get everything you ever wanted and i hope i never hear a word about it" as them because!! they didn't go to each other's weddings!!! i don't wish you harm but i'm not going to put myself through that!! i hope you're happy and i'm never going to look on purpose.

i love dylan strome so much and the best part is that they all love him so much too. he wore a cool vintage ovechkin jacket!! and got slapped in the face with a tortilla!! he loves to gently rag on the rookies!! it just takes some time, everything'll be just fine. you're only on the middle of the ride.

OKAY WHEN I READ THIS PART I SCREAMED BECAUSE I DO HAVE A MCSTROME PLAYLIST AND!!!! HOT & HEAVY BY LUCY DACUS IS IN FACT ON IT!!! SO IS CUT YOUR BANGS (BUT BY GIRLPOOL SO DOUBLE JINX)!!!! i have dorothea by taylor swift on there but i don't know happiness so i'll have to give all the other songs a listen. mostly i just shrieked because i was like NO YOU GOT THE VIBES EXACTLY

🧠〰️🧠 truly the mind meld happening here. the handshake line. the mutual wedding non-invitations. i won't block your number or your name on twitter i just hope i don't see it come up on screen!! i do think that we got confirmation the last time they played each other that dylan did text him to say congrats on a milestone but i would have to check the archives

p.s. i think you said it perfectly eloquently :) what matters is that you said it at all and i was delighted to read it 💕

[nearlymello]

My year long rant on gay French poets from the 1800s.

In 1871 Arthur Rimbaud at age seventeen decided to meet a poet he truly adored,

Rimbaud was only recognised for his poetry by a small audience after he won a poetry competition for writing a poem in Laitin. Therefore he won a poetry competition for Latin verse. After this he was talking to an office worker and that worker advised him to contact Paul Verlaine, that office worker was Charles Auguste Bretagne.

After this Rimbaud sent a fanboy letter to Verlaine praising his poetry and asking for Verlaine to read his own poetry, so along-side that fanboy letter he sent several of his newly written poems to Verlaine in hopes that a poet will finally recognise him. Rimbaud has written letters to other poets asking for recognition.

After Verlaine read Rimbaud's letter he was flattered and amazed by Rimbaud's talent, the only lie Rimbaud did in that letter was his age, in which he said he was twenty-one but in reality in the time he sent that letter he was almost seventeen.

After Verlaine got over the shock of Rimbaud's beautiful poems he sent him a one way ticket to Paris to come stay with Verlaine and his wife. Paul Verlaine at this time was 27 and almost 28 and Verlaines wife was the same age as Rimbaud.

Rimbaud, ecstatic to abandon his mother, decided to take off and meet Verlaine, he said goodbye to his sister Isabella and took off to meet a old man who frankly looks like a dried up sausage.

He met Verlaine at Verlaines home that was in fact owned by his wife's mother and father who was also staying there, as their daughter was only a child going through a pregnancy as she was fully prepared to do her “womanly right” and birth a child for this ugly old man.

Rimbaud and Verlaine hit it off almost instantly, Rimbaud’s want to shock the unshockable, and explore the unexplorable with Verlaines love for those kinds of people it grew into a romantic and rather sexual relationship based on drinking, drugs and unprotected sex.

Verlaine quickly was amazed by Rimbaud and fell in love much faster and harder than Rimbaud, Rimbaud did love him shockingly but not as much as Verlaine loved him.

Very quickly Verlaines wife had asked Rimbaud to leave, first he was kicked out of the household and then Mathilde Mauté who was Verlaines wife begged for Rimbaud to leave and offered to pay for him to go and go back to his home away from them as she was growing suspicious of her husbands and his relationship and as he made Verlaine become a alcoholic and abusive.

Verlaine once choked Mathilde over her not giving him money, this brought the swooning Mathilde to blame Rimbaud for her husband's own actions even if Rimbaud was also being groomed by him.

Only a few weeks later Rimbaud came back and took him and Verlaine to England, without Mathildes knowledge, this caused Mathilde to grow sad and in a rage she burnt Verlaine and Rimbaud’s letters and filed for divorce.

Verlaine and Rimbaud lived in England for almost two years without major incident other than Rimbaud's chaotic and angsty lifestyle but that was regular for them even before going to England.

But shockingly they got into a larger argument which resulted with: Verlaine leaving their shared home, coming back with oil or wine and a fish, Rimbaud saying that Verlaine looked like a “cunt” with that fish, and ended with Verlaine slapping Rimbaud with a fish and fleaing with Rimbaud following behind him and Verlaine leaving on a boat as Rimbaud cries for him not to abandon him.

Verlaine sent Rimbaud a letter only a few days after his abandonment apologising for his stingyness for taking what’s left of their money to leave, and stating that he would commit suicide if his wife wasn’t by his side and asking Rimbaud to kiss him as he dies, Rimbaud responded initially by saying that he’s sorry for the argument that it wasn’t real and that he was sorry and that he loved Verlaine but then scrapped it and told Verlaine the harsh truth that his wife wouldn’t come for him ever, that he should just return home to him.

After this Rimbaud was growing thin on money and then he shockingly got a telegram from Verlaine to come to brussels and see him, Rimbaud being the man he rushed there and saw Verlaine and Verlaine’s mother.

Only a few days later Rimbaud missed Paris and asked Verlaine to leave with him there, Verlaine disagreed and said no. Rimbaud wanting to see the place he loved packed to leave Verlaine seeing this brought a gun that morning and drank his large head off arrived back to Rimbaud and then got into a argument with Rimbaud that resulted in Verlaine firing two shoots at the now nineteen year old man, one bullet landed in the floor and one hit Rimbaud's wrist.

Rimbaud fled and refused to go to the hospital and grabbed his bags and went to the train station where Verlaine and his mother followed him to, as soon as Rimbaud and Verlaine saw each other they argued and got semi-physical, Rimbaud saw the gun on Verlaines person and ran to a officer near by and told him that Verlaine was going to kill him.

Verlaine to short it up was arrested and put into prison for over 500 days, after shooting Rimbaud after showing that he was in fact gay and having sex with men but no proof that Rimbaud was that man so Rimbaud even after pleading that Verlaine didn’t intend to kill him nor that it was premeditated Rimbaud wasn’t punished.

After Verlaines arrest they broke up, Rimbaud and Verlaine turned to religion but Rimbaud wasn’t really a believer but that’s still debated on.

After this they died within 7 years of each other, Rimbaud first of cancer and Verlaine second of pulmonary congestion. Before Verlaines death he was dubbed as a prince of poets when Rimbaud was a far better poet than he was but since Rimbaud was an asshole and gave up poetry after five years of writing he never got a title as such.

Enfant terrible, is what Rimbaud was called and Verlaine was called a prince of poets and I'll never forget that.

[araneitela]

I was going to talk about emotional engagement, and all of those complexities, but then I saw an ad on YT for clothing, and all I could think about was how Kafka is absolutely the type to wear light-colored, high waist trousers, and it'd be perfect. One doesn't just wear high waist things, especially not light-colored because that can highlight all the wrong things, but for her, it highlights all the right things. An utterly refined woman she is, with a good sense of style. And yet, it shouldn't be confused with an inherent craving for deep luxury of any kind.

[smallblueandloud]

if you think about something for long enough i'm pretty sure it gets built into your thought patterns. i'm not in love with her most of the time but when i think of my future i want her in it. it's been seven years of wishing she was there to talk to me while i made breakfast and still throughout it all she is still around, asking me how my week is going and telling me about her terrible anime. i'm not in love with her most of the time but she's part of my idea of a bright future. i don't do romantic love very well but she's someone i still want in my life, forever, in whatever forms we become and whoever we turn into. it's been seven years and people look at me concerned when i say that, but, hey. there are worse things to be. there are worse things to do than loving a friend so much that you want her around all the time. there are worse things than my brain visualizing a sunlit kitchen and including her presence as easily as it does the flowers

[lohstandfound]

1 4 11?

1. favourite place in your country?

I haven't been to a lot of places in my country. But I love the beaches!!

Paraparaumu and Waikanae are pretty nice, probably because of the beaches. I've got to Paraparaumu beach a few times and a couple of years ago I went to this camp at Waikanae- it happened twice and both times on that camp we took a late night walk down to the beach. Sure, maybe we had to climb over some fences by torchlight but it was fun.

Manakau is nostalgic (not to be confused with Manukau), I used to visit a lot as a kid.

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

I love a good pavlova

11. favourite native writer/poet?

Oh oh oh oh oh I have so many writers and poets I love from Aotearoa I would gladly give recommendations. I've made a post on it before and, understandably, it didn't get any attention. (I'm going to find and reblog it)

I love Chris Tse (current poet laureate, I believe), Tayi Tibble, and essa may ranapiri

I haven't read a lot of fiction by kiwi authors. I. S. Belle is on my radar (Zombabe was I think her first novel? And I recently bought Honeyblood which is sapphic vampires so).

Then there's Thorn Boy/Ship of Horrors/Playful Anarchy/The Cure for Gravity/Scathing/Starborough which are anthologies written by my friends plus Spores is published in Ship of Horrors but that is completely biased for me to say

I'm still going slightly off topic but Out Here: an anthology of Takatāpui and LGBTQIA+ writers from Aotearoa is one of my favourite anthologies, and Overcom/Overcommunicate and Bad Apple are my favourite magazines.

Also, me /j

[nerdyqueerr]

Really upsetting to me that i don't realistically have time in my life to be a successful poet and rugby player and society for creative anachronism member and ttrpg maker/gm/player and rock climber

[lonelyplanetfag]

💌 & 5, 6, 8, 42, 45

HI I WAS RLY HOPING U WOULD SWND ONE OF THESE i love ur opinions on shit i think u talk abt things rly well n i love ur taste in music holy shit i get so excited when u send me songs n i do my best 2 check out the spotify links u post cuz theyre always good as fuck

5. what is something you’re proud of?

the rca shirt i made over summer !!!! the wings on the back of that turned out so fucking good n i did Not expect them to

6. name three books that changed your life.

idk man i don't rly read a whole lot n i havent rly read anything that's been life-changing levels of significant yk? ive read some good shit but i woukdnt say any of it was all that

8. what three songs can you not get enough of right now?

anastasia, pretty tied up, n some lie for love but ive been listening2 unhealthy amounts of johnny thunders too

42. favorite film genre? 

i don't think i've seen enough movies 2 have a favorite genre i just like shit that's vaguely weird n uncomfortable n a little gay

45. is there a cover song that you like better than the original?

yeah theres lots like mcr's cover of desolation row n faster pussycat's cover of ur so vain n franks cover of wild horses but dont tell him i said that ok