#this much i do remember poem
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Reading While Eating: Seven Favorite Books Discovered in 2023
Just in time, before we say goodbye to 2023, I didn’t want the year to leave without posting the annual recommended book list that has become a favorite here on the blog. This year’s selections center around nature, literary figures, artists, the art of collecting, and the curation of home in all the ways that make it personal and unique. As is the way every year, these books were randomly…
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#ann napolitano#barbra streisand design#ben shattuck#billy collins poetry#book lists#book recommendations#books#Ernest Hemingway#falnnery o connor#favorite books of 2023#featured#frida kahlo#henry david thoreau#long island gold coat mansions#moniac randall#reading while eating 2023#this much i do remember poem
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You have 90 minutes to complete. (original poem: r.a.)
In participation of the MCYT Recursive Exchange 2024 hosted by @mcytrecursive!
Inspired by know that all my love will be your breath (i will save you when your lights go out)
[text under cut]
1. Have you ever been in love? (Please circle your answer.) a. It's me and him b. Our hearts beat in sync c. Our lives intertwined
2. Do you understand what you’ve done? (Please circle your answer.) a. I couldn't do anything b. I lost my balance c. I doomed us both
3. It's been god knows how long since you felt phantom hands on your neck and there is no one in sight. If you were soul-bound to him and both of you died at the same time then why are you still waiting in the void? Please answer clearly, in full sentences. (Not a correct answer:I just wanted to see him one more time).
4. Define two (2): Fate | The feeling of his forehead against yours Curse | The moment you realise he isn't linked to you anymore
5. True or False: i. It was your fault. ii. You wish you had met him under different circumstances. iii. You can’t regret a single moment that you had him. iv. You would do it all over again if you could. v. It ended long before either of you said anything.
thumbnails:
sketch cover thing for imgur link:
#team ranchers#team rancher#rancher duo#jimmy solidarity#tangotek#trafficshipping#mcyt recursive exchange#events#fic fanart#my art#“canary has butterfly-shaped wings it cant do a dramatic spread like that” watch me. (draws dramatic wings) (sorry)#“you have 90 minutes” have been rattling in my brain for so long ever since i suddenly remembering a web weave using it (yes the beeduo one#very glad i can release it (using it in art) from its confines (my mind)#hm i suppose the title would be more in theme if its abt limited life ranchers#← havnt watched limlife yet#but! happy with what i come up with. lil bit proud even#had so much trouble with the panelling and layers in p2 cause it looks too busy (explodes)#also punching the floor bc i only noticed the “yes-no” pair(?) in the original poem when im already half-done w/ the comic#me when making silly comic makes you do poem analysis#i dont even go there ← does not have enough poetic braincells
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🇵🇸 May We Be Free, Together. One genocided peoples to another. We stand with Palestine, now and forever. 🇦🇲
Care for Gaza (Direct Paypal)
E-Sims for Gaza (Showing Where/How to give them)
Palestine Children Relief Fund
Medical Aid for Palestinians
Daily Click For Palestine (Help by at least clicking this daily, it may not be much but it counts for something at least.)
BDS's website, remember to follow the boycott.
#free palestine. never stop talking about it. do everything you can. something is better than nothing.#cannot put neatly into words how much i feel for palestine. how much is influenced by being armenian as well.#and what ive learnt. both from online and from my mother. its a lot. its a lot.#i will never get over the poem Who remembers the armenians by a Palestinian author.#we remember you . we do too. you remember us. we remember you. ah...#my art#i dont.. try making art of my feelings. often. rarely. but. i try now. i try.
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A SIMPLE STORY
This story is as simple as can be. You were here and then you were not.
And all that happened in between was a secret for only you and me and now that you are no there it is a secret just for me and me alone.
And someday when I too am not here it will be a secret for the winds and the stars and the dust that became of our bones and nobody else.
- by sylvie (j.p.)
#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#poetry#poems on tumblr#original poem#poetics#a simple story#god i remembered how much i don't do titles wow#anyway this was an Afternoon Thought a few weeks ago#i've been sitting on it for a bit but i think it's where it needs to be
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and someone will probably love you for who you are ... But for now, you have friends, who are not going anywhere. Please stay here.
― Prayer for Werewolves, Stephanie Burt
Hockey Poetry Post 50/?
(Photo credit: Sean M. Haffey, Debora Robinson, link, link, Derek Cain, Debora Robinson, link, Sean M. Haffey, Debora Robinson, Melissa Tamez, Tim Nwachukwu, Len Redkoles, Rich Graessle, Melissa Tamez, Sean M. Haffey, Debora Robinson, Emilee Chinn, Randy Litzinger)
#FIFTY POEMS#THAT IS INSANE#IMAGINE IF ID SPENT ANY OF THAT TIME DOING ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE#jokes on me I would never#thank you internet friends for continuing to indulge & encourage me to keep this up#I love you all very much#and appreciate the kind tags & asks#im also glad this poem is the 50th poem#bless this little guy for remembering that hockey is Not That Serious#here for a good time AND for a long time#ok tags:#trevor zegras#anaheim ducks#hockey poetry posts
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#not to get pretentious about minecraft of all things#and not to ascribe too much importance to what is at the end of the day a very heavy handed poem that name drops a nazi#but the tone difference between this and that trailer... woof!#a minecraft movie#minecraft#minecraft movie#cricket chirps#i do not think kids will go crazy for this movie. kids are smarter than you think#and i remember being embarrassed and frustrated by movies of this tone about things i like#even when i was like 9#but maybe i'm wrong and i was weird for that who knows
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good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.
y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.
I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.
I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?
when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?
that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:
what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?
it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.
and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.
there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.
#the glorious 25th of may#night watch#gnu terry pratchett#discworld#I cannot express how much I love that our lilacs bloom at the same time as they do in the books#also I dearly wanted to include this little fact in my accidental monologue but it didn't fit. so in the tags it goes:#GNU Terry Pratchett is ALSO a Minecraft splash text#which is just. aaaaaaaaaaah of course a game with something like the End Poem would do that but aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah#I have many feelings on this and a decent summary of a lot of them is about the beauty of how humanity remembers and loves our dead#and also just... the love. the love that can be held for someone you never met#but whose writing and words can pierce your heart in the best of ways#and the love for characters--for the best of them are these little shards of the writer's soul that they decided to share#because that's really the nature of writing. baring your soul and your self to others in those persons you breathe to life on the page#and then sharing it with others just in hopes that it might ring true and inspire them#give them insight#help them in ways no one else could because only YOU could write that character and share that part of yourself#and by gods if Pratchett isn't among the best at that then I don't know who is#anyway. I have feelings and I accidentally turned them into a monologue whoo#have a good evening all
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procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally
#on my friends living room floor they love together but one of them has been london for weeks or maybe months#to be with her love. im on a foam mattress from one of their beds next to a glass bottle of water opened by one of them#in a mug given to me by another. the weather felt like my childhood today and it also felt like 2 years ago.#(put space in the heavens Einstein's idea and hes your friend too so nothing to fear) around the table they drank and laughed and i thought#i hope you keep growing so full with the love you receive . i hope your appetite becomes insatiable from how used to it you are#and i know youre all leaving soon but i hope one day you miss this and that youll be happy you miss it#its worth missing i think#i thought he didnt care but he said after exams hes going walk around this area over and over#(this is near where he lived and where we visited almost daily for a year)#(hed come across the bridge on a lake)#we went where she used to live and at the entrance a fox sat calmly. it just yawned and stared.#it felt important somehow. i think maybe their impressions of me will never be close to how i feel inside but i think#i love them enough for that not to matter. i dont think theyll ever know this. i dont think if they did it would change much.#and seeing them smile makes my heart glow anyway. today i tried their malaysian tea the ginger burned my throat#they warmed my heart. hes going to canada soon and hes going to the US soon and shes going everywhere soon ill never understand#how were supposed to live with memories and with seperation and with the past but we do it anyway so i think it doesnt matter much#i wanted to write a poem for the lab rats with the fibre optic wires lit with blue forcing them to turn around and around#something about how im sorry that the two photon arrays burned the inside of your brain. im sorry about the sharp points of multielectrode#arrayes. im sorry about everything we do to you. she asked to see me tomorrow. im trying to have self control but i miss her so awfully#last night my friend talked to me and i updated on everything that happened with love and the lack of it and she just started laughing#and she told me about the same thing from her side. and she told me about how she loved london because she would walk the streets#and she felt like the people were her. and her eyes would go over the people and the bag of bagels and the construction men they probably#have a kid at home maybe shes a daughter. this kid is crying for her mother and the building you just walked past caused#blisters and pain and people died in it and very likely people were born in it. we talked for hours and i felt like#i was holding her hand just like that time she held mine watching a horror film. i love her so much#my friend is a genius and i remember her picking up the charms of my phone and staring at the leaf hanging from them. shes side stepping to#music drinking dangerous cider and cocktails from a movie and chit chatting with billionaires and undergrads#i love her dearly. his head covered in electrodes. she tells me about a syrian guy shes in love with and she says#what you feel and what i feel is like cocaine. ive tried a lot of fucking cocaine.#she says ive reminded her of what living actually feels like and to never put energy into someone who doesnt see me this way.
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Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".
They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)
I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅
Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂
#I wrote this last night. I'll do the asks I got later. don't worry! :D#I am the cheese god remember?😅#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses#“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY#And yes. “I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt” stupidity >:D#I plan for Odysseus as a beggar to ask why she waits so long. As he's been gone a longer amount of time than the time they had together#(Simply asking as reassurance. He knows his answer. Calypso asked him. but what about Penelope?) but she gets mad at the#“Beggar” and pities him as he must be telling the truth about having a miserable life if he never got the chance to know such devotion#How what they have could never be sullied by#something as trivial as distance and years. How the years with him were the best in her life. Only made better by their son.#'My dear Joy made songs and poems about love a reality as that was simply the life we shared. Even separated our 'song' will always echo#no matter how long it's been. I'LL make sure it always does. And I know he's doing the same... That strange man used to say that#even if he died his corpse would drag itself back to us before he'd ever give up.'#...I'm not one for 'odyssey zombie au' but when I first heard it yeah. :'D Came up with this back then#“His eyes as hard as flint or horn-” Bullshit! The sad lil fuck is hiding sobs with coughs and telling her to keep away for fear of her#catching whatever “illness” he has. The nice thing about being disguised as old means sickly old man works.#...#I'm noticing that Odysseus has a lot of silly oneliners while I write Penelope with a shit ton of set up :'D#They are so silly and I love them so much#...I wrote a lot :'D#Mad rambles#shot by odysseus#my headcanons#odypen#yahoo!!!#sometimes I wonder if I should tag this with more things but I don't want to taint the regular tags with my bullshit :'D I KNOW I'm insane
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maybe we'll try again next time.
#pikart#projmoon#(LONG TAGS..) i talk a lot about that latter part of poems of a machine but the first chorus never fails to break my heart too#i can never remember what ive talked about and what i havent so ill do it again anyway.#specifically the line 'so here i lie; reading you my poetic stupid rhymes.' especially in conjunction with the very first lyric.#all this built up... mess and madness; concepts of impossible scope and importance for just a few words.#its the desire to express a truth outside of your reach. to tentatively try to identify; to speak; and only managing so much.#clumsy; basic; small; but it still holds a piece of your heart anyway. its not enough; but its real; its tangible; and thus important.#am i making sense? its the first steps into writing poetry / into self expression / into self acceptance / into healing and growing.#and the implication these words are being shared; despite all of this; despite all of Her. augh.#i really do think a lot about th stark difference btwn her Knowledge and her Experience. how she feels she Should function vs how she Does.#knowing how something should be vs how it Is. yknow.#anyway Oops ! Lyric Rambling In The Tags Again ! <33
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starshine, a poem about my girlfriend @legalespeon
to cait: you're my favorite. to everyone else: hope you enjoy.
transcript under the cut or in the alt text image descriptions.
signed,
m a morton
i told her once that meeting her was like turning the lights on
and i don't know if there's any better way to describe it
how else can i say that it feels like she reached into me and pulled every good thing about me back into the light
reminded me that there's more to this house than the shadows and the gloom
the creaking staircases and drafty windows
that she spilled color back into the world
or maybe she just reminded me to look for it
she opened the front door and the handle didn't even stick
didn't even catch on the swollen door frame
storm damaged in more ways than one
nobody's ever done it like her
people have shouldered through the door and they've climbed through windows
they've left the first time they were denied entry,
mistaken the hesitance for occupancy,
it didn't even hesitate for her
like the door was made for her to walk through.
meeting her was flicking on a gas stove
tick, tick, tick, catch,
the potential was always there,
stored energy waiting to be sparked into a flame,
i've cooked more in the months since i met her than i had in the previous two years.
every day, we do the connections together
that new york times game, something i would have never gotten into without her
i only like doing wordle with her
i get bored otherwise,
too caught up in my head to even stay focused on a game you only get six tries to get right
so why do i feel so perfectionist about it anyway
but that's not the point.
the point is that things are more fun when i can hear the sound of her laugh
i've always hated looking at menus but it's fun when she's telling me all the things she wants to try
when she's looking at restaurants in my hometown and curious about the brussel sprout salad
(which, of course, i order)
we looked through the attraction pages of three zoos together
we've contemplated dates in my hometown
the place she used to live
the place she's moved to now
the city where i stay when i'm with my brother
every place i am, i want her to be
i wanna see my comfortable places through her bright eyes
see how my girl sheds starlight, pixie dust from her fingertips
her delighted laughter, her open excitement,
i want to take her to every nook and cranny of childhood i have left in this world
let her know the creature consigned to this body
how it has come to heel beneath her gaze
how deeply and embarrassingly and ardently she's been needed for longer than i've known her.
she worries she doesn't help me as much as i help her
as if that worry in itself isn't more care than any partner has ever treated me with
like there isn't care in every look she regards me with
as if i haven't slept better since meeting her than i have in years.
and it can be said,
hey man you met her in the same time as getting on some new meds, maybe correlation isn't causation?
the new antidepressant is called auvelity and it started working before i ever knew her name
gave me energy again and the ability to cry and i started cooking again
day by day wasn't a slog for the first time in years and i hadn't felt that good since high school
(as fucking terrible as high school was).
the whole world still dim like milky twilight, damp with humidity
the frogs and the crickets so loud (or maybe the walls so thin) that you can hear them standing in the center of the house.
the lights didn't turn on without her.
she wraps joy around me like a borrowed coat, sits me down in the living room and tells me about the future,
and for the first time, i can picture one with me in it
for the longest time that idea was so vague to me
the abstraction from self it took to imagine survival past day by day by unforgiving day
with her, i can imagine turning 25
26, 31, 45
if she's there, i want to be there too
and that's a lot to put on someone's shoulders
and i cannot be one more burden in her Atlas sky hands.
she'd tell me that i am not burdening her but stepping shoulder to shoulder with her, bearing the weight together
or she would tell me that i'm one of the reasons that all this tension is worth carrying
or she'd tell me that she's tired,
that she'd like to let go of the world and lay down with me,
and i would grab her hand and smile,
say fuck the world, come home with me
and in this imagining within an imagining
i picture how carefully she would set down the sky,
like placing a child back onto their feet
and how this is how she does everything,
with so much care it makes your chest ache
makes your eyes hurt
starlight girl supernova bright in my mind's eye,
my heartbeat catching on the lines of her smile.
sometimes, she and i sit looking at each other through cameras and phones and hundreds of miles
and i feel closer to her than any lover to ever touch my skin
there was an ocean between us and still that was true
four hours time difference we still found a way
i don't know what to do with a partner that actually thinks i'm worth the effort.
pushed out to sea by every moment i'm not with her,
pulled back in by the tide of her breathing,
my starlight girl moon in the sky,
and i the wrong kind of cosmonaut but enamored anyway,
there's not a way i can imagine this where i don't want to follow where she goes.
she's got one of those gaming computers with lights where lights truly do not have to be
it's colorful and whimsical and i'm sure that there's functional purpose
i want to build her the world with my own two hands but i imagine a computer like that might be easier
circuits and wires and logic and programming and ducks, from what i hear
i've never been for going about things the easy way anyway.
that's the scariest thing sometimes,
how easy things are with her
i'm used to loving folks like pulling teeth from my own mouth
service comes easy to me, gifts i can make,
but expressing love aloud has never been easier than when i'm pushing it past her lips
pouring love into her with lip and teeth and tongue
whisper her my love affair fire with smoke passed between our mouths
she breathes me in and i am taken in,
perfect and peaceful.
i'll never stop wondering why
she chose me but i'll choose her back every day if she'll let me
my sunshine, my north star
everything i need.
once, i told her that talking to her helps,
but I think I'll miss her til I have her in my hands, and every time she's not after that too
she says to me you say the most romantic shit sometimes,
asks me if she's supposed to be normal about it,
as if making her feel that way isn't the goal of my every sentence;
letting her know how special she is through words alone is impossible
but sometimes I get close.
sometimes i think she can feel just how badly I need her,
split seconds of oh, you love me flash of recognition on her face
as if loving her wasn't what I was made for,
as if the sound of her laugh isn't music to me,
as if I don't hang off her every story time run-on sentence,
her unique ability to circumnavigate her point so much that it's like she's telling ten stories at once,
I love that about her.
I love the way she needs me to know every single detail and every single reason and how she knows him and how they know them,
how she invites me into the house of her soul just as easily as the door opened to her,
I love how much she trusts me.
I love trusting her just as much.
my good morning texts to her always start the same way
good morning, starshine! the sun says hello!
a bastardization misremembrance of something my mother quoted to me as a child that tastes like home on my tongue,
the home I provide to her will always live more on love than anything else,
and as well as I can, I won't let her be lonely in the home we share.
I was a lonely kid, in a way
in the textbook for the psychology class I took the semester before I met her
there was a small definition of what autism is, which began with
autism is a disorder characterized by extreme aloneness,
the goal here to be able to communicate exactly how much people like me live in our heads more than our homes,
open door and song birds singing,
and i don't think i've ever looked into a two way mirror and saw myself so profoundly as in that simple sentence,
that deep well of loneliness bubbling within me so suddenly.
i've never liked learning new things in public
it takes me time to adjust to information, to incorporate things
i can play a good game when it comes to the gambit of conversation
adapt as quickly as i can and keep quiet while things slide into place in my mind
i've never met someone more understanding of the oddities in me than she is
never been able to ask for the space she gives me naturally
slow but not far
an arms length intimacy that we close the distance of when we're both ready,
i wonder if she loves figuring me out as much as i love the vice versa,
standing in that push and pull of learning every single thing about her,
letting the ocean tide bite at my ankles just for the pleasure of standing in the sea spray,
i've always loved the water but never like this.
my love for her ocean vast and trench deep,
i have no idea how to end a poem about her
i'll spend the rest of my life with her
and i still don't think i'll ever be able to properly form the words,
tell her exactly how much she means,
how much i need her.
so instead, i'll prop the door open
write her poem after poem after poem of hello i love you,
good morning, i love you
how did you sleep, i love you
did you get something to eat, i love you
drink some more water, i love you
let me take care of you, i love you,
and i will take her hand and i will give her the keys, say
this house is yours now
i know you'll treat it well.
#💞#poetry#poem#my poetry#as you can tell i do not remember my poetry tag but did y'all know that i love my girlfriend. now you do.#i love her so much <3#mine
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i cant believe hollywood fumbled troy so badly lmfao they will never spend the money on a project like that again so we only had that one chance at an epic iliad movie and fucked it with homophobia and “realism” with no gods come on. if I could go back in time and change one event it would be to line up the producers of that film and shoot them myself
#the way this was my introduction as a teenager to iliad too it’s disgusting#god#even then I knew something wasn’t fucking right#no gods omg who’s fucking idea was it to do that????#I hate that movie#I mean I have seen it twenty times as a teenager i can remember the beats#but I hate it#reading the poem in my adulthood i think back to what we could’ve had in a movie and it makes me wanna kill#god I’ve been posting so fuckin much today that’s what it’s like when your brain is fried from work and then you have a kid that has#recently discovered the joys of Speaking but doesn’t know she can also…. be quiet sometimes…….#the iliad
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Seeing Roxas gradually shows more and more anger for xion sake . . From talk back against his superiors , to call someone jerk , to rush towards his death . I am sobbing
#— ❛ Out of self#she means so much to him#they are in love sir i can even write a poem#while he remembered her he’d do anything#now imagine protective roxas after all this ?#rokushi
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#[ phia shenanigans (:3」 ∠) ]#poetry#poem#poetic#idk if anyone is keeping tabs on my account since i don't post much here anymore#BUT!!!#i do appreciate if you remember me :D#i'm gonna start posting my poems and short stories like i said before#how is everyone ?!?!?
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every once in a while someone who only knows me & my poetry via tumblr osmosis and/or my more recent works instead of the 2014 stucky days discovers that it is not actually an accident that many of my poems from that era are so stucky coded
and it always brings me a lot of delight
#sylvie speaks#most of it is slanted and deliberately vague to varying degrees#and. to be crystal clear. i do not need people to recognize it as stucky coded#i am honestly and genuinely delighted whenever and however people find meaning from my poetry#stucky or not. blorbo or non-blorbo#but it feels like a little bit of a whimsical spiderman pointing meme moment#same hat!!!#here is what i held in my heart as i wrote#and you recognized it!!#this post brought to you by a tag journey i saw in my notes today#that gave me a big old smile#a while ago someone else discovered that one of my most popular poems#(either you love him or please let him be soft i can't actually remember which)#was also stucky coded from the start#much joy in the discovery
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My high school did a yearly poetry recitation contest (Poetry Out Loud), so Oh Boy do I know some poems. My favorites are Ozymandias and "the world is about to end and my grandparents are in love," by Kara Jackson. Also in 8th grade we had a Poe unit and had a class contest to make the best music video of the Raven, so I still know a good chunk of that.
i hadn't heard of the kara jackson one! just read through it and enjoyed it, particularly these lines > 'grandma returns to her love like a hymn, marks it with a color. // when the world ends will it suck the earth of all its love? /will i go taking somebody’s hand, / my skin becoming their skin?'
#taking this as a challenge to see how much of ozymandias and the raven i can remember. no i'm not bored at work what gives you that idea#i bet ive got most of ozymandias. the raven may be a lost cause#i met a traveller from an antique land / who said: two vast and trunkless legs of stone / stand in the desert. near them on the sand /#half-sunk a shatter'd visage lies whose frown / and wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command / tell that its sculptor well those passions read#...something or other i do not recall / the heart that mocked them and the heart that fed / and on the pedestal these words appear /#my name is ozymandias king of kings / look on my works ye mighty and despair /#nothing beside remains. round the decay / of that colossal wreck . something or other#the lone and level sands stretch far away#decay of that colossal wreck indeed (my memory for this poem)#oh well.#once upon a midnight dreary as i pondered weak and weary / over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore /#while i nodded nearly napping suddenly there came a rapping / as of someone gently tapping tapping at my chamber door /#tis some visitor i muttered tapping at my chamber door / only this and nothing more#?? (it's downhill from here)#ah distinctly i remember it was in the bleak december / and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor /#something?ly i sought the morrow / vainly had i sought to borrow / from my books surcease of sorrow / sorrow for the lost lenore /#for the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels .name lenore / lost to me forevermore#(then there is another stanza; bird-infested word bonanza / which i used to know at some point but do not know anymore /)#something something something door. darkness there and nothing more#oh it's the 'silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain / thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never known before' bit#anyway. deep into that darkness peering something stood i hoping fearing / doubting?? dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before#but the silence was unbroken and the stillness gave no token / and the only word there spoken was the whispered word lenore#(more missing chunks)#oh i remember 'surely said i surely that is / something at my window lattice' because it's such a stupid rhyme#bird time bust time idk#ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore / tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's plutonian shore /#a billion more stanzas i dont remember. except for 'prophet!' said i 'thing of evil! prophet still if bird or devil!#whether tempter sent or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore /' etc. wait you can only add 30 tags to posts now?? i had more raven chunks#ask#anon
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