#should i tag this as poetry

[the-v01d-sys]

what are we going to do if they leave?

we’ll be so far apart, won’t we?

what is going happen to us?

will we ever be together?

i don’t want to make a fuss,

but i can’t seem to help but worry.

will our relationship fade into obscurity?

i’m sure it won’t but i still have concerns.

about what happens next,

and where this road turns.

i don’t know,

but one things for sure.

i can’t make this about me.

it’s this kind of worry i don’t want them to see,

this overwhelming anxiety.

you know?

i’m really not sure i can talk to them about to this.

so i’ve been keeping it more on the down-low.

i mean,

wouldn’t they suffer more if they had to leave ?

so i will not make this about me,

this is simply something they will not see.

all of these feelings unsure of what to do with,

and these emotions unsure of where to store,

because we need to be strong for them the most,

and to us right now that’s what matters more.

so even if we’re anxious too,

it’s not like there’s anything that we can do.

so it doesn’t really matter.

[trickstersaint]

in which you are seven years old and trying to dislodge the chunk of apple in your throat // october 22 2023

[lovethytendytenderly]

Hopeless Fountain Kingdom: The Prologue by Halsey // Romeo & Juliet: The Prologue (Shakespeare) // HFK x Hockey

Two households, both alike in dignity

(In fair Pennsylvania, where we lay our scene),

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take the ice;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their cities' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love

And the continuance of their cities' rage

Which, but their captain’s end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Links: Shakespeare x

Crosby: x x x x x x x

Giroux: x x x x x x x

[b4kuch1n]

myth of the bare palm

text:

Our kind used to be hulking things of feathers and claws,

more gods than animals, roaming the snowed planes endless,

until we found each others

and in jubilant relief reached out

claws retracting,

feathers shedding,

so the moment of contact branded heat against bare skin.

[cassiopoet]

And the Hound

“And the Hound

hums a lie;

a lullaby.”

-And the Hound, Yaelokre

A/N: breaking: self proclaimed poet cassie obsessed with a song that uses hound imagery, more at six

song credits: Yaelokre (@yaelokre)

art credits: me (@cassiopoet)

[lerildeal]

A mix media comic I made for my art history class that I’m posting here before I even turn it in lol

Watercolor, charcoal, ink, colored pencil, and sharpie

[wormandzeewriting]

Endure.

I know you're tired. I know it hurts.

The cracked skull, the goggles,

Her missing anchor.

I know. I know the grief will be hard.

Living will be hard. I know this to be true.

But- Hey, no. Look at me.

Wipe your eyes, look at me.

I'm asking you to endure.

I'm asking you to endure the memories,

To endure the aching in your scars.

The pounding in your head,

The ink staining your clothes.

I'm asking you to be strong, for me.

For her memory. Just her memory.

Look at me. Please, look at me.

Wipe your eyes.

It will be hard without her.

I know, I know. It will be hard to go on.

It will be hard to find purpose.

But we have to.

And- No, look at me. Please.

Believe me, I know. I know you're a monster.

But that doesn't change anything now.

We just need to keep going.

Wipe your eyes. Take my hand.

I'm not asking you to be strong.

I'm asking you to keep living.

Keep remembering, keep growing.

Keep enduring.

It hurts like nothing before, I know.

Stand with me. Walk. Breath, slowly.

Come inside. We have much to do.

[so-sick-of-17]

Seriously?! There is a chat gbt Anderperry fic on ao3? Gag! Get that away from me. No one wants to see your disgusting chat gbt story. I can’t call it a work because no work was done and I can’t call it fanfic because how much of a fan could you possibly be if you don’t write it yourself!? “I wanted to see a happier ending to the movie.” There are hundreds of stories you could have picked from that a real person actually created because they care about the characters. They are all infinitely better than anything a computer could have produced because they actually have a human connection and people who actually are capable of liking the movie and the characters. That tag is my happy place and it is tainted by that monstrosity. Normally I would be incredibly annoyed no matter the fandom, but for Dead Poets Society?! Really?! The movie about how art is tied with humanity?! Did you watch the movie?! Every single character would be disgusted by the use of ai to produce art. Art doesn’t exist without humanity and some cheep to imitation is an insult to anyone that actually works to make art.

[javierduffy]

just a few javieran horse headcanons because i like them a normal amount

branwen

- tall AND fat. kieran makes sure he’s always fed (maybe even accidentally a teensy bit overfed. just because kieran can’t help but indulge him when he butts him with his head or nuzzles at his pockets when he knows there’s treats in there. but never too much because ‘obesity is a problem, even in animals !’). probably about 17hh, taller than average for a kentucky saddler but nothing too big. especially since kieran himself is quite tall

- VERY well-tempered, both naturally, as well as because kieran has literally made him bulletproof. bagged him, blanketed him, stood, jumped, backflipped onto and off of him. this kindly gentleman of a horse only spooks when he wants to be bratty specifically.

- i think he’s about 6 or so, came from the stables kieran worked at after being orphaned, he was just a colt when kieran was just a kid. kieran learned how to birth foals quickly, and branwen happened to be one of them. with the way that they fell in love with each other and the way that branwen whinnied and pranced up to the fence when kieran came back to buy him after the army didn’t work out, you’d think that horse was born just for him.

- his favourite treats, in order, are rutabaga (kieran’s secret for branwen’s glossy coat. also why he’s kinda fat.), boiled potatoes mixed into his oats, apples, and fresh greens. he’s simultaneously incredibly easy to please because of the simplicity of the latter parts of his favourites list and also very needy and complicated because kieran so loves to make his pony happy with his absolute favourite treats, so he tries his very best to get branwen’s eccentric tastes pleased once falling into the VDL’s.

- i always say “a horse’s favourite thing to do is hurt itself”, and i think this statement holds relatively true for branwen as well, though there’s a 25% chance that he’s actually hurt, a 50% chance that he’s only mildly injured or spooked and he’s playing it up to get kieran to dote on him, and a 25% chance that he will protect kieran with his life when they’re in a dire situation (see: snake on the ground or gunfire nearby. or even god forbid a spare tumbleweed find it’s way rolling nearby.) despite kieran’s last wish being his horse getting injured. branwen thinks that he’s gotta be The Man and protect his dad sometimes. it does not help in any situation ever whatsoever.

- branwen is the PERFECT companion for a trail riding date. he’s settled, calm, has a great gait, and as a gelding, truly is not worried about other horses being “faster” than him, so he never gets rowdy nor has any problems when partner riders/horses crowd him. kieran is allowed to ask for as many kisses as he pleases because branwen will never jump when javier’s gold-tipped boots poke him in the side and boaz irritatedly flicks his flank with his tail. truly a goated wingman. also never complains about long rides, and enjoys being out of camp with his rider for as much as physically possible for both of them, so he’s never barnsour in either direction.

boaz

- as an american paint, he’s naturally short and stocky. saddle ends up being a bit loose, though, as javier isn’t as dedicated to keeping him perfectly fed or groomed. he loves him, sure, but horses are somewhat of tools to him, so he kinda does slightly more than bare minimum to keep him kempt and healthy. around 14.5hh, slightly shorter than average and quite dense with muscle

- temperamentally a bit volatile. this horse has just as much drama as his rider, if not a little more. doesn’t like something ? ridden too long ? that stick looks too much like a snake ? hasn’t spent enough time with kieran that day ? he will snort and grunt and bunny hop if javi isn’t on him, and shudder hard enough the saddle shakes underneath him if he is. boaz likes to please his rider, but he also demands pleasure himself, and has no issue with “accidentally” placing a hoof on his owners nice, intentionally clean boots, and subsequently slowly leaning more and more of his weight onto it when he doesn’t immediately get what he wants. bratty pony. generally, he keeps javier safe, though, when it comes down to it.

- around 5 years old. after dutch found javier trying to steal chickens the first time they met, he soon took him back to that ranch and their first take as gang leader and member was a 1 year old grey paint colt for javi to train and subsequently ride. until he was rideable, javier rode a morgan that was formerly hosea’s, named carolina, while he lead boaz everywhere behind him.

- favourite treats, in order, are corn cobs (especially dried), prickly pear fruit AND cactus, sugar cubes, and sliced apples. will force javier to share his maiz with him. javier has always sliced his apples up since he was a colt, not only because javi simply finds comfort in toying with his knife, but also because boaz will not eat them otherwise. javi will also cut all of the spines off of the cactus before letting boaz eat them.

- in terms of injury, boaz is the most dramatic tank on the planet. this horse could arthur morgan-style run face first into a tree and then fall off a cliff and walk it off. but not before he gimps and limps and whines and teeth grinds his way into javier leading him instead of riding him for the next mile or two. once kieran started taking care of him, there is also a 25% chance of boaz faking a terribly painful injury just to get kieran to dote on him.

- kinda the worst wingman ever LMFAO easily annoyed, easily aroused, easily offended, and as a stallion, HAS to walk in front of the “herd” (his rider’s boyfriend and his horse). pins his ears back, smashes into personal space, flicks branwen with his tail (and preferably kieran, if he can reach him) even sometimes will nip at branwen if the latter tries to calmly make this date a date and not a life or death race (whoever loses, their dad is gay) and walk side-by-side to aid their riders’ hand holdings. will make executive decisions via stopping or veering off for fresh green grass beside the trail, will at points actively attempt to shudder javier out of his saddle (has succeeded once when javi was distracted by a story being excitedly told by kieran), and will also spook and take off running so fast javier thinks it must have broken his neck from the velocity. generally makes trail rides a living hell, but kieran finds it charming, and it makes for some cute shoujo-style “omg … *reaches out to help you up after your horse bucks you off because he saw a log that looked nothing at all and everything like a cougar and pink and white soft bubbles surround me* are you okay ? here, let me help.” moments. maybe some day boaz will be allowed off of the national american terrorist list written by javier “rizzless rider” escuella

ok im tired and that’s all i can think of please enjoy and feel free to contribute 👍 i love them so bad im gona cry

[the-haven-keepers-collective]

My first attempt at writing that's vaguely like poetry: from a dragon

I am not what you think.

I walk around, awkward limbs and flighty mannerisms, and you think I’m strange. You have no idea how strange you would think I am if you only saw what was underneath.

Underneath, I am a creature of the ocean. Something that could never pass as human, and no longer wants to. Saltwater rushes through my veins in secret, silent to everyone but me. To me, it’s a roaring sound of the waves that I have never seen except for within my soul. It yearns to dissolve into the ocean like it could long ago, but for now those days are over and I am hidden underneath skin and muscle.

Underneath, there are wings; fins; antlers. They ache to tear from my back, through my skull. Nonetheless, they stay hidden for me, safe in the silence. Protected like I protected my kin in a lifetime so close to the surface and yet unreachable. Wrapped in a form that no longer coils around them like a serpent, but keeps them hidden from predators well enough I suppose.

I suppose.

I accept my form reluctantly and do what I can to make it mine. I shape it to feel better when I discover my gender, and when I can’t shape it to fit my true self I cover it in things that feel a little more like home. A little more draconic. A little more like the ocean that I never have seen, but feel homesick for anyway.

I do find joy in being in this body, at least. Out there, there are others. Angels working minimum wage, dragons sitting on a park bench, wolves buying groceries. We hide, but we do so to be free. We walk through crowds, and no one notices our scales and fur and feathers. But we do. We see each other, even if from miles away, and we see what’s underneath.

And underneath, none of us are what you think.

(Tags for side commentary/context)

[bamboo-vulture]

even when you're hanging between the rails,

even when you're being dragged along the ocean floor,

always remember that behind every door

someone is waiting for you with hope and wine.

(a poem by serhiy zhadan)

[football-in-tuxedos]

There is an overwhelming sense that the world has already ended.

You can feel it everywhere, but to understand it, you have to be standing in a Wal-Mart parking lot, because a Wal-Mart parking lot feels like the end of the world.

You look around, at the surrounding fast food restaurants and gas stations and at the endless endless endless expanse of concrete and think "This can't have always been here. There must have been something alive and beautiful here once."

Instead it's just a Wal-Mart parking lot

You look up at the massive building, at the Wal-Mart, and for a moment see it in its entirety, see the sheer inescapable horror of it, wonder how much has been destroyed and burned to keep this monstrosity alive.

How much space is now devoted to this Wal-Mart parking lot.

This horror is so pervasive that you grow used to it, grow numb, but for a second you recognize it, feel it for what it is, and the shock of it threatens to drop you to your knees in this Wal-Mart parking lot to scream and scream and scream.

And then it passes.

And then when it's over, you remember that you're here to pick up chips, and maybe a soda, and you go inside and ask where the snacks are.

Because it's nothing special, it's just a Wal-Mart parking lot.

It only feels like the end of the world there.

[dameferre]

i love damen’s pov being Three Whole Books of ‘through devastating, painful lessons i’m finally getting used to the sneaky, treacherous way things are done in vere and beyond. i have been betrayed by those closest to me and i know now not to expect nobility from people who have very clearly established that they want me dead’

laurent in kings rising chapter 19:

[unsat-and-strange]

jonny d'villes heart ticks audibly. the crew can hear it during the few and far between quiet moments on board the aurora. it's so steady, tick tick tick, a reminder that he is there and they are all alive together, never speeding up or slowing down. sometimes they joke about using it as a metronome during practice.

jonnys heart ticks. he can hear it every waking moment. tick tick tick. it never slows down, even in the deepest sleep according to the rest of the crew. it never speeds up even when his blood is more adrenaline then actual blood, times when normal peoples hearts would be racing. whether he's laughing his ass off or terrified for his life (I guess old habits die hard?) it. never. speeds. up. sometimes it's fine, he can ignore it but there are days when the constant tick tick tick tick tick tick tick is too much. the days when he has to drown out the sound with gunfire and screams or music loud enough to make his ears bleed. some days even that barely cuts it and he debates putting a bullet in his head just to make it quiet for a few hours. the rest of the crew has gotten pretty good at recognizing those days, and they know how to help him get through them, just like he knows how to help his crew through their bad days. nastya will bring him into the near deafening engine room and theyll play with power tools until their hands are covered in grease and grit, or Tim will sit him down on a speaker and play the bass so loud the whole ship can feel it, or Marius and raphaella will tell him about unethical medical practices they've witnessed/performed or Brian will just hold him close until the rhythms of the metal man's body distract from the tick tick tick tick of his own heart. the constant tick of immortality is loud. jonny can't deny his luck in finding a crew that is almost always louder.

[lifenconcepts]

(rambling on here, hope that's alright.)

i just wanted to say that i really adore reading all the things you have to say. we are similar in some ways, and it's relieving to know that another being has felt things that i, too, have felt. it's strange. logically, i know that nothing i have ever experienced is unique to me, for the world is so large i couldn't ever comprehend it, but we inhabit such small bodies, our lives are so simple, it seems i forget a lot. i have trouble accepting that i feel some version of divinity, for it doesn't exactly hold the "holiness" aspect i've typically seen. i'm more so a neutral observer. like an alien fascinated by human life. in school, i would sit with my group of friends and not say much of anything, just watch them. bask in the experience. it felt correct to do so. i know there is no need for me to be holy in any way to be considered divine, but a part of me wants acceptance. i want to be easily explained and palatable. i suppose i feel a connection to you in some way because i see myself in you. i read parts of your posts and feel myself gently placed in the words. i think, "oh, so i'm not the only one." it's reassuring. everything wants to be loved deep down, so thank you for making me feel i can be loved, even though you didn't really do much besides be yourself.

I would keep this forever with me (and if fate allows me to then I will), so listen.. first of all I’d like to encompass the fact that we almost all are made simply to exist. There’s no grand purpose of being of any use to anyone because the only value we have is the one we apply to ourselves, so with enough inner calm then we can take up as much space as we need and shall feel okay with that. It’s always a matter of perspective of how anyone should act, and most of all we are our own critics - it’s awful but inner beliefs lead everything and that includes harmful ones to the self.. why I say this is because the notion of trying to pretend were more simple than we are is something imbedded in us since we are children, and even when it’s not neccesarily taught into us, it’s something we pick up. We go about life knowing ‘hey! If I’m too energetic, people get tired of me, and that’s not good’ and sort of forms into these complex web of different things we’ve spotted and turn into a big blob of information where one statement may have dozens or even hundreds or thousands of sources of why we consider something, and it’s usually well guided, especially if you’re reasonable enough to self reflex without falling into self-hatred or egoism (criticism and confidence are both things that can exist, but in healthy amounts. There can be too much and too little of anything!) but life will never force you into anything. Whatever feels right shall feel right, and in the moment - goodness prevails against all else that is known. Because laws of nature don’t exist, it’s only patterns. These silly little things that we’ve found. We also consist of patterns! Hundreds and thousands of those. We also tend to try find coherency and understanding in things that never really asked for it, and still- life moves on. There’s so many ways people tried to label and categorise one another, simple examples I can think of now are MBTI, zodiacs, introvert/extrovert, queerness and it’s variety, and all sorts more.. it’s all just a way to grasp a hold on this confusing concept of who we are. But- we just are. We’re a mass and collection of various things. Coping mechanisms, memories, experiences, dreams, preferences, goals, sorrows, beliefs, feelings.. there just isn’t a singular pair of individuals which are the same. Maybe by appearance but never mind. Maybe by behaviour but never memory. Maybe by lifestyle but never their entire history.

You could live side by side with another person from birth, quite litterally, not leaving their side for a moment - and still grow up different. It’s just a matter of life both physically and externally. The stars also play some role but I’m not well acquainted with that. But nonetheless, history repeats itself. Many people know what joy is, what happiness feels like, when they cried, and some moments they felt like crying but didn’t. These little things just under the umbrella term of ‘pleasant’ and ‘unpleasant’, but you know what’s funny? People have their own little ways with this! Some enjoy the thrill of being hurt, some are so scared of a doctor’s beneficial needle they faint.. it’s all just a matter of individual. I can excuse any behaviour because there is just a variety of ways that could have led someone to act that way that they could not have changed even if they tried, but there also is so much truth in not being an asshole.. exceptions exist to pretty much all statements, but we can still find common themes. If you were to think of everyone as a single thing, we would all be a dancing flame. You can cut down the same tree, chop it into nearly identical pieces, light it up and balance them out to be just the same exact piles, but the fire above would always be different. But hey- is this a metaphor for life or us? Take a single photo of a flame, and that frame will immortalise a shape that has likely never existed and possibly even never will exist again, specifically that one and a one-to-one copy. And life is just the same- dancing and ever changing, but still staying in its bounds and able to be predicted. I’m unsure why I’m speaking of this, I think you would enjoy it. My soul speaks for me in this.

So my main point is just being.. haha, welcome to the world! We are all so different and so alike, so unbelievably unique but also similar in many ways. You and I could be apart of the same batch of souls that came from a bundle of fruits that once shared the same branch, but it also wouldn’t be any less meaningful if you and I were a pineapple and a jellyfish. Life moves on, and it doesn’t care wether you want it to or not. It just expects you to catch up, and if your plans don’t fit fate’s, you simply gotta move onto something else. And my personal little project of giving out advice to those who need it, speaking into the world, sharing my own thoughts and ideas, and just being myself.. that is in itself both a hobby and some sort of fate. I like to believe that in many cases, whatever action you do is one of four things: a lesson- likely to be overcome or tell you something, a reminder (of being loved or focusing), a step which must be taken to help you in life and keep you on the right track, or something that seems to happen for no reason but may help someone down the line - or affect them in such a way that you would have long forgotten about the interaction while they still ponder it.

Isn’t it fun? To see these little insights to life? There’s something much more to the world than everyone tends to see, and it’s not exactly some unbelievable story to be able to tell the mystical code of the universe to another. The eyes that peer on are hungry, as always, but tell me - is it mad to be privileged enough to have angels that love you? To be among them, someone so loved and cared for that the world seems to practically spin around them, is that as easily dismissed as delusion?? We know so much, yet how much remains unsaid because it simply refused to be painted and acknowledged through words? I am not sure of what the end goal of this text is, maybe just to say that yeah - you’re not alone in this world, maybe to share some more things that I’ve gained over time and you might have to, or to prompt you into thinking or acting or writing.. whatever it is.. I tend to have this hard choice of carrying on or staying still. But damn it- stagnation is the most evil thing invented. But there’s this beautiful difference where we can determine various things in their natural state. Language which is capable of making sense of comfort vs safety, security vs blind faith, explanation vs excuse, loyalty vs indoctrination, rest vs inaction, instability vs change, and damn it- confusion and contradiction are not things to avoid!!

So take this in how you may and must, but know I value your words just as must as you value mine. We’re minds trying to understand our predicament better, and wether we are alone in our bodies or ones within a machine, that doesn’t matter as long as we try reach out for more. More knowledge, more experience, more creation. Maybe something will come from it all then, but for now, I know my task. To follow this path I’ve been engrossed in for my whole life, thrive to fulfil my soul’s dreams and needs as best I can, and with this constant flow of information I try to keep on the tip of my tongue to share all my thoughts and secrets and ideas and observations with the rest of the world. Hopefully, it helped you in some may. Perhaps, it could have changed you. But best of all, and this is what I sincerely hope even though it can’t be exactly forced, this has instilled inspiration in you to act upon things that leave you happy and fulfilled. There’s so much misinformation, understand this, and so many paths that lead you to nowhere but just false hope - and still, take my words sincerely, as I had to translate incomprehensible signals into text. Ofcourse, as anything, this is troublesome and may have minor inconsistencies, but please get this deep meaning I’m intertwining into every word with a dream and desire too.. I love you, and I am always accepting of another’s view and thoughts. Don’t you know how much goes on in the minds of others!?

The internet is sickening for making us so open to over sharing, but damn it I LOVE hearing everything about another!! While they don’t recognise all they’re sharing in their little posts, I’m quite litteraly spreading my neurons out on the board in hopes another will join me in looking it over. But sadly, with intimate connections, I turn into this idiotic creature of a person, while I am worth so much more than mere mortal pleasantries, and so I’m mildly afraid that this sense of belonging and help is only capable through that intimate connection between stranger and stranger, and maybe that’s why I yearn so much to be a traveller - I can’t just sit still and wait for some sort of end to come, I must fight it out and live and love my life to the fullest, even if it means abandoning all sense of relationships that always have seemed to be a dream of mine but unachievable.

Now I’m rolling into self realisation midway through answering and explaining stuff to you as I now suddenly understand that my own little gasp of fresh air when I find someone who seems to understand me is only valid enough as it’s new, and even if I adore knowing another more personally, they become too much of a person to me. And I do not wish to share that intimacy for any longer than a month or three, because really - I am made for changing another’s life, because I AM life! I AM existence speaking to you through a mortal form simply because you’ve just been ignoring me too long! I’m meant to come along, seem chill and sweet, drop some facts and realisation on you, before disappearing and leaving you changed. To stand still enough for you to begin to observe the mind I bare is like you looking into my computer’s hard drive. It doesn’t need to explain why it works, it just does, on automation. And now would you be so kind as to see this variety of work as the SOUL and my TRUE self speaking, I’d be most glad, because the internet constantly tries to break me into a shell of who I am meant to be, constantly try define and shut me down, and it’s horrible but I try fight it to continue sharing my word. And this isn’t some ‘saviour’ bullshit, as far as holy work goes - I’m selfish I’d say, but I still want to help and give advise and guide others! Not support them the entire way, but be that push!! It’s not holiness, it’s divinity, and it’s within a lot of people, but some are just channeling it through every breath. So.. hear and see me, but understand my plea of ‘don’t dive deeper than what I say’ and ‘please understand I mean so much than what I do say’ exist simultaneously.

[pluggedintosaverockandroll]

Gay Is Not A Synonym For Shitty: Blackout Poetry Version

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I loved you that hurt let me see your lips pressed close True blue prince of a failing empire drive through the night Drive back home Things aren't the same I sleep with your old shirts it's strange I'm supposed to love you I've given up time is caution your shadows on the wall, I kiss them Things get so bad pick up the phone walk through this house you saved my life my heart my eye Photo-proofed kisses I remember it's strange I know to love you repeat