breezesummers

[breezesummers]

it piled like gravedirt; news and news and news and news until my ear was pressed against the floorboards of a bad future

for a long time, a ringing has been playing in my spine: wake up? for what? for another day like this? go to school? go to work? plan ahead?  for what? for what? for what? what is money to a drowned earth?  here is my hand, though, and how it opens and closes and when the birds get hungry in winter i build a little house full of seeds here is my hand though, and this moment not-future-yet, where i love the color of the leaves here is my hand though, turning off the lights around me one by one by one in a prayer

here is the new hopeful: a generation of children saying:

i do not picture the future without shivering but i am in love with the present  as much as i can be

#inkskinned #poetry

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fuck your lecture on craft, my people are dying - noor hindi

#Palestine #poetry #gaza #free gaza #free Palestine

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We Lived Happily During the War

by Ilya Kaminsky

And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house– I took a chair outside and watched the sun. In the sixth month of a disastrous reign in the house of money in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money, our great country of money, we (forgive us) lived happily during the war.

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What a pretty color palette for a pretty girl.

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Protect Trans Kids 🕷️🏳️‍⚧️💞

Whether it’s actually canon or not that Gwen is trans, I truly loved her character arc and the little bit of trans rep that we did get in this amazing movie! Please go watch Spider-Man if you haven’t yet, it’s truly a love letter to all animation fans!!

#queer #!!!!

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WELCOME!!!!!! BACK!!!!! BITCH!!!!!

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one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

#queer #cw homophobia #cw transphobia #inkskinned

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Logging back onto tumblr after years is so bizarre. it’s like I’m forgetting what year it is…

#Everyone I loved following is still here #But I feel so apart #Also who is breezesummers?? Idk her…

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reblog for something t4t to happen to you this summer.

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adverse reactions are common when facing the unfamiliar but I must take this tenderness into myself and let the bruise of it spread until my body can recognize it as a warm thing

click for better quality

#art #visual poetry

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omg some ppl are so good w words.. the best i can do is ough ough awooga i think

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(ID: A “square poem”, written so that it reads the same both vertically and horizontally. The text reads:

“I wear tights patterned with tire tracks

where your car blooms across this skin-

tight scar. You scattered your guilty love,

patterned blooms scattered from Mother’s dress, tangled

with a cross, your mother’s, on my neck. Re-

tire this guilty dress, my fragile regret.

Tracks// Skin// Love// Tangled neck// Regret in red”

End ID)

#poetry #visual poetry

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songbird, fleetwood mac // letters to véra, vladimir nabokov

#singing I love you I love you I love you #poetry #<3

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I think I may be attracted to arrows, whose trajectory doesn’t end in my body. 

We’re loose and flying, in the same direction. 

#Art #visual poetry

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haha yeah socializing only started getting difficult after cohveed hit yeah i wasn’t always like this /s

ig | webtoons

#comic #visual poetry

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What do you do when God puts his hands on the table, / pink-red palms / asking for forgiveness?

What happens to forgiveness when God is your father / and you discover he’s just a man with two hands—

B: William Bearhart, from At The Dinner Table With God And My Father

#poetry #religion

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routine love. written for @writeblrcafe‘s prompt: “There was a certain comfort to be found in predictability”. Text ID under cut.

Keep reading

#poetry #<3