#30 poems

[coloradomcpoeticslave]

History Lessons (Poem #18, NaPoWriMo 2024)

By Daniel Paiz There are history lessons surrounding us in every kind of interest you and I have and often we don’t pay attention to it. Sometimes it’s the tunes floating about our ears as one absentmindedly works their way through a day. Other times it’s something a bit more intentional, often tied to a holiday or time of year. If you haven’t noticed yet, this writer during NaPoWriMo (and…

View On WordPress

#30 days #30 poems #ALL CAPS #Music #NaPoWriMo #Poetry #soldadas #trotsky #writing

[coolnonsenseworld]

When Keith says he'd break the world in half to protect him, Lance says he'd put it back together for him.

Out of all the Universes they got to know, the other is still closest to home.

Prints on pre-order -> linktr.ee/mezzy

#klance #laith #lance voltron #keith voltron #voltron legendary defender #DO YOU Know how many notes i have on my phone that sound like halfassed love poems about how they exist #too many #though my currently fav one was not about them #but the series about 30 things Lance loves about Keith from Lances POV comes pretty close #ugh i feel them so intensely sometimes that if emotions could cut id gordian knot fix the world #no cap #the power of projection in fictional worlds is wild

[whaliiwatching]

finally my obsession with zoot suits becomes useful

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT ZOOT SUITS #they’re fascinating the history is just. ouujhghghghhh i love it #not to mention the silhouette??? the chain???? fuck yeah #plus… green carnation… wink wink #green carnations as a subtle queer symbol also fell out of use round the 20s i think but i like it so #also zoot suits are technically a late 30s/40s thing if i remember right but leT ME HAVE THIS #theyre going on a date to a langston hughes reading <333 #yknow how every spidey seems to have a borough?? like miles has brooklyn and gwen has chelsea #well. noir has harlem #IMAGINE IT. NOIR RIGHT IN THE THICK OF THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE #I NEED IT TO BE REAL #im so happy i get to incorporate my interest in the roarin 20s #into this magnificent ship. fucking fantastic for me #poem on hobie is love again blues by literally guess

[fuckingwhateverdude]

10.3.23

#i only like 30% of this poem #but whatever #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #spilled ink #guilt #on guilt #dog motif #rabies #mental illness #bipolar disorder #vent writing #self hatred

[pencap]

GREEN

i am green green green down to my breath and blood and bones.

green with envy for all the beautiful things in the world that i cannot hold in my hands or press against my lips or swallow down whole.

green with sick all festering hurts i don't know how to heal and spreading poison i don't know the antidote for and hand-me-down aches i don't know the names of.

green with greed, the yawning void deep in my belly that wants and wants and wants and wants and wants from the day i was born screaming with want.

green with permission: yes please, come here, do as you please. i never did learn how to say no and mean it.

green like plants, like spring growth and summer leaves like basil and mint on kitchen counter tops like haworthia and pothos and monstera.

i am green green green down to my breath and blood and bones—

but maybe someday i will learn to hold the whole rainbow in my body.

- by sylvie (j.p.)

#spilled ink #poets on tumblr #original poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #writeblr #poetics #green #i am having complicated emotions about selfhood #and contradictory emotions and the parts of you that you chose to identify with #can you tell??? #this felt like an outpouring to write #from idea to first draft was less than 30 minutes #honestly probably less than 15 #it's rough around the edges but i think it's meant to be that way #just a little bit

[angelboybreakdowns]

dean, adam, and self-sacrifice

man you’re wrong - demob happy // gun. - mcr // spn script // unknown // spn // mary - the death riders // too many times - the growlers // little brother - john dickson

#first ever attempt at a webweave i think it came out ok. idk #its 2:30 am but the whole chromebook thing stressed me out i gotta create if im gonna sleep #might revisit that like transness & divinity & blinding poem i’ve been picking away at #fuckkkkkkkk im gonna be so tired in school tomorrow #rambling #spn #web weaving

[lavndvrr]

I did The House of Hades for my school book project and one part of the project was to write a poem about a scene from your book so I wrote a poem about percabeth falling into Taurtaurus and idk if I want to post it or not

#pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #the house of hades #percy jackson #anabeth chase #percabeth #poem #im nervous #it’s not very good #but good enough for me to get a 29 out of 30 #I’m too indecisive

[secretmellowblog]

When I say "Victor Hugo's depiction of Jean Valjean's grief over losing Cosette is a reflection of Hugo's own grief at the death of his daughter" I'm not just theorizing-- some lines from Les Mis are basically just ripped word-for-word from Hugo's poems about the death of his daughter. Here are a few of them. Leopoldine drowned horribly with her husband only a few months after they were married; she was only nineteen. Jean Valjean's paralyzing fear of Cosette's marriage, his misguided useless rage at her husband, and his violent grief over losing her and never being able to see her again, is heavily influenced by Hugo's own grief. I have trouble finding good English translations of some of Hugo’s Leopoldine poems online, and would appreciate better links to English translations if anyone has them. But In A Villequier, one of Hugo's poems addressing God with furious grief over the death of Leopoldine, he writes:

Consider again how I have, since dawn, Worked, fought, thought, walked, struggled, Explaining Nature to Man who knew nothing of it, Lighting everything with your clarity; That, facing hate and anger, I have done my task here below, That I could not expect this wage, That I could not Foresee that you too, on my yielding head, Would let fall heavily your triumphant arm, And that you who saw how little joy I have, Would take my child away so quickly!

Which is almost word for word just Jean Valjean's:

I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul....

And this from the same poem:

I keep seeing that moment in my life when I saw her open her wings and fly off! I will see that instant until I die, the instant, no tears needed! where I cried: the child I had a minute ago— What? I don’t have her any more?

Is a similar sentiment to this angelic description of Cosette “taking flight” away from Jean Valjean:

Cosette, as she took her flight, winged and transfigured, left behind her on the earth her hideous and empty chrysalis, Jean Valjean.

And the moment when Jean Valjean realizes she’s in love with Marius, and has been “lost” to him without him realizing it:

The unprecedented and heart-rending thing about it was that he had fallen without perceiving it. All the light of his life had departed, while he still fancied that he beheld the sun.

This from the poem Demain dès l'aube, where Victor Hugo describes visiting Leopoldine's grave:

I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, Without seeing anything outside, without hearing any noise, Alone, unknown, back bent, hands crossed, Sad, and the day for me will be like night.

And Jean Valjean walking to Cosette's house, but never able to enter or speak to her:

There [Jean Valjean] walked at a slow pace, with his head strained forward, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, his eye immovably fixed on a point which seemed to be a star to him

This bit where Hugo talks about his faith weakening/cursing God in vain after Leopoldine’s death:

Consider how one doubts, O God! when one suffers, how the eye that weeps too much is blinded, how a being plunged by grief into the blackest pit, seeing you no more, cannot contemplate you.

Is similar to Jean Valjean’s spirtual self weakening and his consience “taking flight” at the idea of losing Cosette:

Any one who had beheld his spiritual self would have been obliged to concede that it weakened at that moment. (...) Grief, when it attains this shape, is a headlong flight of all the forces of the conscience. These are fatal crises. Few among us emerge from them still like ourselves and firm in duty.

Victor Hugo agonizing over his dreams of growing old with his daughter in A Villequier:

You make loneliness return always around all his footsteps.(...) As soon as he owns something, fate takes it away. Nothing is given to him, in his speedy days, for him to make a home and say: Here is my house, my field and my loved ones!

Jean Valjean:

“As one family! No. I belong to no family. I do not belong to yours. I do not belong to any family of men. In houses where people are among themselves, I am superfluous. There are families, but there is nothing of the sort for me. I am an unlucky wretch; I am left outside.

Victor Hugo's poetry in A Villequier again:

in the midst of cares, hardships, miseries, and of the shadow our fate casts over us, how a child appears, a dear sacred head, a small joyful creature, so beautiful one thinks a door to heaven has opened when it arrives; when for sixteen years one has watched this other self grow in loveable grace and sweet reason, when one has realized that this child one loves makes daylight in our soul and in our home,

Jean Valjean:

this man, who had passed through all manner of distresses, who was still all bleeding from the bruises of fate, (...) merely asked of Providence, of man, of the law, of society, of nature, of the world, one thing, that Cosette might love him! That Cosette might continue to love him! That God would not prevent the heart of the child from coming to him, and from remaining with him! Beloved by Cosette, he felt that he was healed, rested, appeased, loaded with benefits, recompensed, crowned. Beloved by Cosette, it was well with him! He asked nothing more! Had any one said to him: “Do you want anything better?” he would have answered: “No.” God might have said to him: “Do you desire heaven?” and he would have replied: “I should lose by it.”

Victor Hugo begging God to talk to his daughter again:

Let me lean over this cold stone and say to my child: Do you feel that I am here? Let me speak to her, bent over her remains, in the evening when all is still, as if, reopening her celestial eyes in her night, this angel could hear me!

Jean Valjean thanking God for letting him speak to Cosette one more time:

The good God says: “‘You fancy that you are about to be abandoned, stupid! No. No, things will not go so. Come, there is a good man yonder who is in need of an angel.’

I think the ending of Les Mis never made complete sense to me until I realized that Jean Valjean isn't grieving like a parent who has watched their child grow up; he is grieving like a parent who has just watched their child die.

#lm 5.9.1 #les mis #les mis letters #i was originally going to make a joke like #men will literally spend 30 years writing les miserables instead of going to therapy #but also reading Hugo's Leopoldine poems even when the translations might be imperfect is just. agh. :_; #and also has radically shifted my entire perspective on the novel and Jean Valjean

[sfsolstice]

exurb1a, from "Inventory" in Poems for the Lost Because I'm Lost Too

#lit #literature #typo #typography #fragments #light academia #dark academia #oops typo! #exurb1a #love #poetry #poem #quotes #aesthetic #i didn't have this one dog-eared for some reason but i still had these two lines underlined #something was pulling on me to look for this poem (bc truthfully i forgot that i even underlined this part lol) #im so glad i went back to look for this poem though #bc now i'm crying at 10:30 am :') #maybe we'll meet again under better circumstances #that's what i hope at least if you're reading this #240304

[butchniqabi]

over mountains

over rocks and rivers and ravines

through it all i shall carry

you

you who shares my

father's blood

and the water of my mother's womb

who could gaze into the

eyes of death and

still move forward

you who

with blood upon your hands

were still a righteous man

who had killed

but never murdered

who had slain beasts

but never kin

you

my brother

(are you still my brother?)

who smiled instead of

weeping when you graced the earth

whose blood i cannot

wash from beneath my nails

whose serenity when

facing my wrath

haunts me

whose body upon my

back weighs heavy

rotting and foul

for you are the first careless

death

your bones will not

become tools

your dark hair shall not

be woven into cloth

it will not adorn our home

nor decorate

our bodies

i must commit you to the earth

as i would a seed

for a crow has shown me

what must be done to the wasted dead

as it tears through the

earth to create a space

for its own slain kin

and i can only hope, brother

(are you my brother?)

that something shall come

from what i have sown

that something

anything

graces this overturned earth

where you now lay

-Qabil Reflects Upon the Death of Habil by Amatullah Bourdon

#my writing #a cain and abel poem? at 11:30 at night? yes <3 #im feeling a lil crazy bc ive been wanting to get something out there abt them for a minute #i like the first half much better but anyways! woe! islamic poetry be upon thee!

[dropthedemiurge]

and if i’m too hot to handle, let me drown in the ice cold water float down to the bottom of the darkness like a heavy burden that i am

// Ray – Only Friends (Episode 4)

[My other OF fanarts]

#tw suicidal thoughts #only friends #only friends the series #ofts #poem #ofts ray #thai drama #dropthefanart #my works #art #dropthefanart ofts #i said myself oh let's do some warmups before big drawings #then i blink and uuuuhhh something a bit dark happened xD #i'm just mesmerized of all the heavy metaphors and symbols and lines that Ray's arc has so far #tbh i thought of this caption in like 30 seconds 1 minute max so #can it even be considered a poem xD #well i drew this sketch in 1-2 hours too so #i wish i had lots of time to do serious fanarts but recently i don't have it .__.

[coloradomcpoeticslave]

Feathery Daggers (Poem #17, NaPoWriMo 2024)

By Daniel Paiz Feathery Daggers is another installment of nature-related stuff that this writer has found interesting. NaPoWriMo is a time for reflection and pause, but it’s also a great time to learn something new, something you might’ve had no intention of learning about initially. Nature routinely has lessons for our far removed from outside selves to learn, as well as warnings for those of…

View On WordPress

#30 days #30 poems #caracara #crowned eagle #daggers #honey buzzard #NaPoWriMo #Poetry #sea eagle #secretary bird #snail kite #writing

[fandomestuff]

WHAT IN THE CRITICAL ROLE JUST HAPPENED TO ME

I'm watching cr2 for the first time and I'm at episode 98

And Veth is talking with Yeza about maybe settling down in Nicodranas... And he just asked her to be careful and not put herself in too much danger

And after what happened this past monday ((we are all still crying)) Matthew Mercer from early 2020 hits me with a line directed at early 2020 Sam Riegel

"There are a lot of tales of heroic sacrifices"

...........

I'M SORRY???

RIGHT AFTER FCG'S HEROIC SACRIFICE???

WHAT IS HAPPENING

#if anyone says “proof that it's all scripted” imma block you #that was such an out of body experience fr #i was just knitting and listening in the background #and then matthew mercer hits me with that line #what the fuck #AND THEN YEZA SAYS “I WANT A WIFE. NOT A POEM” #I LOVE THAT MAN #gimme a yeza pls #critical role spoilers #cr3 spoilers #cr2 spoilers #critical role #mighty nein #bells hells #veth brenatto #yeza brenatto #fcg #fresh cut grass #rip fcg #still crying #it's around 1:29:30 if anyone wants to check #edit: and then they fucked right after this talk #typical mighty nein interaction #this is about veth and yeza not sam and matt btw #although who knows #/j

[whaliiwatching]

Hey, my cat is getting put to sleep tomorrow and your noirpunk fic has been helping me process this and is very comforting so thank you a million times for it, I hope you have a fantastic week

fuck, dude, i’m so sorry. i lost my cat a while ago too. it’s awful and i still miss her.

i’m glad my writing could help a little. couldn’t finish this today, but here’s a sketch based on a fic idea i’ve been cooking for a bit. i hope it makes you smile. take care of yourself <3

#inbox love #spider man: into the spiderverse #spider noir #we don’t deserve cats #i wrote five poems about my cat just to cope with her death. it doesn’t hurt less but it hurts less often #please take the time to just. process. feel your feelings. remember to eat #if you want happier things to read: #noir has a soft spot for black cats #he has an army of strays in harlem that he feeds #i mentioned in the fic that hobie’s docks have strays too. they love noir dearly #the 30s harlem and 70s london/old york communities both care for the cats like giant families #the cats are happy and loved and at rest #<3

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

The Angel locked away in a broom closet inside my brain

s14 dean poem for when michael is stuck in his brain and fighting to get out. but it's also about a sickness that stays with you. and it's about wanting to get better. so it's a s14 dean x chronic illness poem

transcript under cut:

i've got an Angel locked away in a broom closet inside my brain. It tried to possess me. i didn't like what It was doing and we decided better in than out so now It's staying in there. Staying put. i can hear It rattling to get out now and It's so loud. There's a foreign body in my brain and my whole being is fighting against It. Something alien inside of me and It wants to hurt me but i don't know how to get It out. Don't think It can ever come out. i went to the doctor about It and he told me It was anxiety. i think It's going to kill me. The Angel locked away in a broom closet inside my brain makes everything hard. Too loud for sleeping too stiff for eating too tired for running. i walk everywhere now. i lay down a lot. Pray to god to come get his bitch. Answer machine only and the Angel just laughs. i want to get coffee with my lover and the Angel is saying no. Some days i weigh up the pros and cons. Sometimes i think the coffee is worth it. These are the times before the Angel possesses me again and the times when there are no consequences. When there are consequences and the Angel possesses me it is not worth it. i am starting to learn it is never worth it. i wish it was. i want to live life on the edge. i remember the edge i lived on before the Angel. I listened to my body and it was quiet and mine and I swam in the sea whenever I wanted. Now i just drown. i think It's going to keep killing me. i want the Angel gone. i wish the Angel had decided to possess someone else. But It possessed me. But today i decided it was worth it and went out to coffee with my lover and nothing bad happened. Sometimes i remember what being alive feels like and today was one of those days. i hope tomorrow is too. Every day the Angel locked away in a broom closet inside my brain hurts me. And i tell myself to get the coffee with my lover anyway, even though it is never worth it.

#this happened at 1:30 last night and i think it holds up #shoutout to isaac's michael dean poem from their old blog which employed a similar technique with sentence structure #can't quite remember it but it inspired this one. the full stops. the struggle to get the words out around It #it was fun ! #dean winchester #michael #s14 #spn poetry #ola writes

[aridante]

alright well mr. siken just gave me a reason to live to see fall 2024 i mean 77 new prose poems? is he for fucking real i’m going to be catatonic there’s absolutely no coming back from that for me

#that's almost 30 more poems than crush and foxes combined #he's trying to kill me specifically #and in less than a month #we're learning the full truth behind the story of crush? hello? #richard siken #text #leila.txt