#the poetry tho

[fandomrantsandtwittertakes]

[obsob]

to be loved is to be held!!! print

[alexanderpearce]

ship ask game 😁1 Who would be first to to bite down anc consume the flesh of the other, euphoric in the taste and the heft and the slide of the blood 2. who is the ant and who is the ophiocordyceps fungus? 3. who is the dog and who is the master? 4 when the roles are blurred or reversed who would be first to die and how? would it be by bulletwound? the phallic blade? strangulation? 5. Cocaine or Heroin? 6. who licks up the other’s cigarette ash? 7 who is julius caesar and who is brutus? 8. who is jesus and who is judas? 9. did jesus want it? did julius caesar know it was coming? are the betrayed ever proud? 10. who is irrumatus and who is irrumans? who is pedicatus and who is pedicans? 11. did they ever kiss and why not? 12 if they are two sides of the same coin who is heads and who is tails? 13. and if the coin was the holey dollar? 14. And if the dog bit back? 15 and if the dog bit back? 16 and if the dog bit back? 17 and if the dog bit back? 18 and if the dog bit back? 19 and if the dog bit back? 20. Who buys the other flowers?🥰

[razz-matazz143]

"oh what inspired that work?" "what inspired that poem?" "An old relationship? someone you like?" No actually it's two doomed yaoi characters sorry :(

[bobosbillionsknives]

Plot of trigun (1998)

[m4nc4v3-2000]

It's not so lonely out there.

[slowrotburiedinthepark]

[literally-irreverent]

"There are only seven types of stories" -Nick Miller (New Girl)

image sources: x . x . x . x . x . x . x . x . x

[fairydrowning]

Since it's the last day of the year, and many people will be sharing their achievements or fulfilled goals but this post is a reminder that it's completely alright if the only thing you did this year was survive and be alive.

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[betaruga]

Hey Arnold 2024 Shortaki Week! Day 3- "Trapped" lyrics by genesis

[haikuandmore]

From Thich Nhat Hanh’s poem ”This Body is not Me”

[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.

[blackjackkent]

The stories say to touch her is to feel Yourself consumed by flame upon her skin.  They say her blood is made of molten steel Charged with infernal fire from within.  They call her many things, those fucking pricks: The Devil's Advocate, the Demonsbane,  Archdevil's Torch, the Terror of the Styx,  Attack dog of Avernus, child of pain.  So many monstrous names… and then the truth-- A loyal soul who was not made for war,  Betrayed and mutilated, robbed of youth,  And forced to live untouched and soaked in gore.  Ten years she fought and struggled not to die…  Till hope came in a ship that split the sky. 

[poetryincostume]

On October 3rd, Elric asked me what day it was.

I said, ‘How dare you to talk to me, you coward.’

Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong

Traditionally tailored uniform, 2019

Japanese twill, canvas, grosgrain, leather, gilt braid

[amateur-scribbler]

I am an artist, or I guess something of the such, I write and paint and read and devour art with a longing lust.

But lately I am messy, maybe I always have been; I can’t count how many times I’ve been caught with flecks of paint buried under my nails or charcoal smudged on my skin.

Even when messy, I know what I want to do. I want the mess I create to be something beautiful; art asks for us to take tragedy and transform it into something the masses can relate to.

So, I’m smashing perfect tiles to create some new mosaic but, it all is just starting to look eerily similar to the normal messes I make.

The shards of ceramic are askew and won’t sit how they should, so now I’ve got this frown on my face tugging down and taking with it everything that makes art feel good.

But, I see it in the shards and shapes, right there is a trail of every single idiotic mess I have made.

It’s all the drunk kisses that leave my lips bruised, or the weeping tears to be a version of myself whose ribs protrude.

It’s ugly and never looks how it should; it’s throwing daggers with my tongue at those I love to see if they come back, even if they’re staggering from their wounds.

I am an artist. I create all the time but, it’s not always pretty pastels or delicate little words spoken with a small smile. It’s messy and cruel, which are two traits that stick to me like tar.

Because I am an artist, and I have mastered the art of fucking up as well as the stars have mastered dancing in the dark.

the artist - t.k.o