#soldier poetry

[troyandabedsnewapartment]

YOU LIE AND I STAY, AGAIN AND AGAIN.

1. letters of sylvia plath | 2. i know im not the only one, sam smith | 3. cut, caitlyn siehl | 4. ask polly: help, im the loneliest person in the world!, heather havrilesky | 5. cool about it, boygenius | 6. driving east (2002), helen frankenthaler | 7. motion sickness, phoebe bridgers | 8. wishbone, richard siken | 9. bicho 87/9 (1987), gego | 10. gilded lily, cults

[piratetheon]

- Amrita Chakraborty

[havingapoemwithyou]

obligations 2 by Layli Long Soldier

[imjustapoorwayfaringgeek]

📸📸📸

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

I am far far far to attracted to the shivering soldier…

[between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place]

10 daily poems for the 10 year anniversary of CA: TWS

Thank you @catws-anniversary for putting this event together. Here is my small contribution.

March 26 | On Your Left | Prompt: First Meetings

Lights on. Are we rolling?

There’s a man longing for another city

The pool reflects the same sky

It says

I’m sorry everyone you loved are dead and the world is still burning

But third time’s the charm and

On your left makes a friendship

Trouble Man, troubled men

By too-soft sleep and bloodied hands.

Hi, it’s the future calling. Do you have a moment to talk about the wonders of modern medicine and space exploration. And the internet—so helpful, right?

Hello, are you there?

[theworldofwars]

Lieut. Arthur Rhys-Davids (1897-1917) Rhys-Davids had earned a reputation as a "fighter", and famed British ace as he often pursued enemy aircraft wherever and whenever he spotted them. On 27 October 1917, he pursued a group of German aircraft over Roeselare, Belgium. He was never seen or heard from again, and his remains were never recovered.

[luckycl0ve]

drink up baby, stay up all night

the things you could do, you won't but you might

[theiaevangelineashwell]

I took a test online once

To see if I was the Soldier

The Poet

Or the King

It told me I was the King

I always thought I’d be the poet

I think all kings long to be poets

In the same way that all eldest daughters long to just be children

Why bury your pain for the sake of others when you can turn it into art

Why raise children you didn’t make

But just like the test said

“The sword is at your side”

“It bore your name long before you did”

I never asked it to bear my name

I want to be free of it

But we all want what we are not meant to be

“You are tired of being steady. You dream of feeling alive. Not that you aren't, but, sometimes, it's hard to remember that there is a heart between your ribs.” -@atlanticsea

[icvrusxx]

Dad knew who you really were. Good soldier, nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?

let dead dogs lie, silas denver melvin // i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth, sciencedfiction // spn 1x16, shadow // chapter viii, chen chen // hannibal 2x12, tome-wan // the hour of the star, clarice lispector // spn 3x10, dream a little dream of me // i don’t smoke, mitski // i’m your man, mitski // spn 2x22, all hell breaks loose pt 2 // mary, the death riders

[dontforgetukraine]

I'd return to Earth a grasshopper, As I used to hop on my loyal horse. Like a tiny bead in the hay is lost, I will be the one with the greenery, Then, the final thunder of stomping hooves Will catch up with me, and I cease to be.

—Artem Dovhopolyi, fallen Ukrainian defender of the 58th Mechanized Brigade

Source: nedopysani

[vostok3-ka]

The Dole of a Death of Self

They press you by the shoulders, Back flush against a tilted chair, And how electricity howls in pain Whistling through the octaves in Screams sung by vocal chords Strung across an exposed throat, Laid bare, nailed fingers plucking The strings like a laughing violinist.   Tomorrow you shape a century, And today your hands tremble, Knees kissing soiled floor tiles, Their hands knotted in your  Hair, roughly– you spit up rose, Rubied petals spraying across Their boots, and your nose Pours with dirtied water,  Bloodied– take a deep breath And they shove you under again; Concrete blocks press into your back and you Read verse with tired eyes, tired minds, poetry Etching their way into your soul, you rather think You want to scratch the words into your arms, To keep them forever, yours. You have nothing. You have nothing and the wind croons Over bridges, playing with your hair, Gentle, kind in a way you do not know. They harness you to them, buckling holsters And you let them mold your face into smiles Tugging your mouth upwards with calloused  Hands, and they curl their hands, digging into Your face, warning signs at the end of times. Stay loyal like a panting hound, Until the chains rust, and you Sob into thin pillows, curled up On the hard floor of your apartment– Cry! Cry for that which you’ve lost, Cry for the robbery of a heart: The dole of a death of self.

by Aisha for @catws-anniversary March 26th, loose interpretation of "PTSD"

[theycallmeinterstellar]

[mylastmoleculeofserotonin]

Wait! How did I not realize this earlier: the first and last thing that Omega does in the show with the Batch is escape a prison using maintenance crawlspaces. Both prison breaks started with Omega using a crawlspace to get everyone out of the cell, ended with a stand-off/shoot-out featuring Omega and Crosshair and getting help from one of the facility’s top scientists. Also, I cannot believe that it was a coincidence that there was a storm on Wayland for their escape and that it wasn’t a deliberate callback to Kamino.

[indigeko]

The soldier wanted the king's power, the king wanted the poet's freedom, and the poet wanted the soldier's strength.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Lost at sea ⛵️