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whatareyoureallyafraidof · 3 days

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#Ukraine #Russia #invasion #war #Putin #Putin's war #aid #military #Poland #Germany #Europe #The Mad Sonneteer #Bud Koenemund #Koenemund

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cyarskaren52 · 3 months

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Even MAGA knows that 💩isn’t happening!

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themadsonneteer · 4 months

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A Warrior Poet's Soul

By Bud Koenemund (Written: December 2023) For Christina Alvarado My mind cries out, profaning the universe; Mourning, o’er and o’er, this tragedy – An assault on existence – while cursing A suppos’d caring god’s perfidy. I wish I could hold you in my arms now; Embracing gently; a reassuring Touch to defy despair and doubt; somehow Granting peace – a balm easing suffering. But, I know the strength you possess: spirit, Resolve, stubbornness, and tenacity; With a warrior poet’s soul. Sans fear, You’ll tilt ‘gainst fate for immortality. I have and will always love you, my Friend; Sentiment which shall endure ‘til time’s end.

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kvothes · 1 year

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for the fourth day of 🌷national poetry month🌷 here is a form called a tanka:

these are two tankas by japanese poet tada chimako, both titled “a spray of water.” similar to a haiku, the first three lines follow a 5-7-5 syllable count; however, a tanka then has two additional lines, each with 7 syllables.

(the syllable count isn’t exact in these two poems, bc they were translated from the japanese)

two more things: a tanka is supposed to be one sentence spread across these five lines. second, it needs to have a turn in it—a moment when the poem shifts focus or brings in a new idea. in this first tanka here, you can see that the poem starts by simply describing water in a kettle, but then broadens to be about anger and abandonment.

#a turn is also called a volta—commonly found in sonnets #if anyone wanted to write a tanka in my inbox i would not be mad…..#national poetry month #mine

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nikxierocks · 2 days

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Tdbk quirkless college au where Shouto is an aimless student who’s floating on his dad’s cash while Bakugou is working his ASS off on an engineering scholarship. Of course, they just happen to be roommates and happen to share the same basic classes.

I can only imagine how frustrated Bakugou would get by Todoroki simply existing near him— not only does he have the gall to be uselessly wasting thousands of dollars — he’s pretty while doing it!

After a whole semester of Shouto going on a journey of self-discovery and dicking around, he realizes what he wants to do. Bakugou finally calms down and is eager to hear what Shouto’s put his mind to—

—Only for it to be an entirely impractical major like poetry or some shit.

#Bakugou would be so mad #like leave him alone #he’s just a little guy #let him write his silly sonnets or whatever his dad is rich #stan tdbk #tdbktd #tdbk #bktd #todobaku #bakutodo #my hero acedamia #boku no hero acedamia #mha #bnha #todoroki shouto #shoto torodoki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki

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salmonberrypj · 6 days

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Escapril Day 12 - Oh, The Light!

Untitled Warboy Sonnet

The flames eat up the car, eat up the Wheel, Eat up the eyes for lookout, hands for fight, Eat up the perfect holy Chrome and steel, The last thing you can think is o, the light!

The last thing you can think is how you'd Tell, The Boys who wanna go out now and fast, How bright it is now, Witnessing yourself, There's no one there to Witness you, dumbass.

Your body wasn't good for much at all, Your brain was good for targeting, you guess, And now combustion deities have called, There's nothin' you can tell them back but yes.

You don't wish for more time, you're still a fighter. But you sorta wished you'd go out even brighter.

-PJ

#Escapril #Poetry #Poem a Day #Creative Writing #Writing #Sonnet #Mad Max #Fury Road #Warboys #Who's ready for the Furiosa movie I am so ready for the Furiosa movie #This one was originally about Slit's death but it could probably be applicable for plenty of warboys you can think of #I am having Fun with Capitalization

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gretchensinister · 2 years

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See what’s on the slab sonnet hours. Text of image under cut.

16. Scientist

It’s dirty business, in your clean white coat,

But you’ve long since ceased to care. It’s too late

To stop. You’re in a castle with a moat,

For fuck’s sake. In the tower you await

The final lightning strike. It was only

A question needing an answer, and now?

I understand. It’s hard to be lonely

And once you’ve cleared the crooked path to how—

Strap on your goggles. Flip all the switches.

Spark up the Jacob’s ladders, Tesla coils,

All the weird machines that scratch your itches—

And go on, laugh, as clouds above do roil

For you, I want two hearts to beat tonight

I confess, though it’s still so far from right.

#mad scientist #poetry #sonnet #october sonnets #'but the book' what book this is about the pop culture trope

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gennsoup · 1 year

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Shuttered in hot light and oil-seared stars, you alone carry the weight of planetary anxieties.

Sally Wen Mao, Sonnets for Kudryavka

#Sally Wen Mao #Mad Honey Symposium #Sonnets for Kudryavka #light #stars #planets #anxiety #Chinese literature #Chinese poetry #American literature #American poetry #poetry #poetry quotes #quotes #quotes blog #literary quotes #literature quotes #literature #book quotes

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poetasterwaster · 7 months

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Sonnet 21

XII. (prose of Mad) A solitude: it’s loved me, so have I. A feeling: never did it reach to you. The sin: to hide my mind that time wi’ a lie. The punishment razed all things I pursue. The grief: so cruel at the same and beauteous. Regret: the fluid, not flowing any more. The darkness: my constituents e’er duteous. And you: the butterfly I got, what for? A waste: not do I want to think so, though; It, many words, unsparing times I gave. A life: the same love as a death; a woe, Unable to obtain the thing I crave. E’en now you’ve never known my __oken heart. And yet, why not? I chart your parts in art.

#poetry #original poem #rhyme #sonnet #original poetry #verse #mad series #past despair #Why is sadness more beautiful than gladness?

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mediumgayitalian · 24 days

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Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.

He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.

“Errand done?”

“Yep.”

“Lord Hades pleased?”

“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.

“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”

“…I do not shed.”

Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”

“Are they.”

Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.

“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”

“You’re very picky.”

Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”

He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.

“Is that so.”

“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”

“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”

The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.

“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.

“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”

There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.

Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.

“Open it.”

“What is it?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”

“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“So?”

“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”

“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”

“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.

He gasps.

“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”

Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.

“You like?”

“It’s gorgeous!”

He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.

“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?

“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”

“Possessive, much.”

“You’re literally going red.”

“Shut up.”

And he does, but only because Will makes him.

Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.

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whatareyoureallyafraidof · 10 months

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Among other things...

#vote #vote blue #Democrat #Democrats #Democracy #women #women's rights #LGBT #LGBTQ #LGBTQIA #SAGA #rights #voting #Social Security #Medicare #protect #protection #The Mad Sonneteer #Bud Koenemund

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cyarskaren52 · 1 month

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What’s the sense of putting Black people in power in his administration, if he’s going to block their moves. It screams “Token” for me!

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themadsonneteer · 7 months

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From Dust to Dust

By Bud Koenemund (Written: September 2023) Why would I fear something I have wished for, Even tempted, nigh on 25 years? What suffering exists beyond abhorred Death’s veil that could eclipse pain endured here? I should welcome an end to this torment – The unceasing agony called life – which Has left both intellect and body rent; Bereft in spirit; with a soul of pitch. Unafraid, I hold surrender not a sin; I’ll embrace the darkness; finally Set free from worldly struggles; whole again, Someplace where these griefs no longer bind me. From dust, to dust, and thus a debt is paid When I, at last, am by the Reaper bade.

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metamorphesque · 1 year

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💌 some of my favorite poems for World Poetry Day 💌

A Cloud in Trousers by Vladimir Mayakovsky

Don’t leave the room by Joseph Brodsky (the original)

Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke

The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

You, Darkness by Rainer Maria Rilke

I Am Offering this Poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca

a splinter of my imagination by Halina Poswiatowska

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel

Wait For Me by Konstantin Simonov (tr. by Mike Munford)

Before You Came by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado by Emily Palermo

Miss you. Would like to take a walk with you. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

I Want to Write Something So Simply by Mary Oliver

What's Not to Love by Brendan Constantine

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath

Dear [ ] by Nick Lantz

Dogfish by Mary Oliver

Persephone the Wanderer by Louise Glück

Scheherazade by Richard Siken

The End of Poetry by Ada Limón

A Myth of Devotion by Louise Glück

Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva

I Loved You by Alexander Pushkin

Poems for Blok by Marina Tsvetaeva

I’m Glad Your Sickness by Marina Tsvetaeva

Wait for her by Mahmoud Darwish

The Guest by Anna Akhmatova

Listen! by Vladimir Mayakovsky

Carousel by Vahan Teryan

Landscape with a Blur of Conquerors by Richard Siken

Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light by Richard Siken

Notebook Fragments by Ocean Vuong

Headfirst by Ocean Vuong

Advice from Dionysus by Shinji Moon

#poetry recs #poems #literature #translated literature #classic literature #poetry

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todorokies · 8 months

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could you write some boyfriend headcanons for megumi? sfw

boyfriend!megumi headcanons

a/n: i hope i delivered to your liking <3

☆ . . . dating megumi would feel like the crisp october air whirling throughout your lungs. soon you hear the chilled wind singing a tune as the red, yellow, and orange leaves join in; you feel at peace like a warm knitted quilt rest upon your shoulders.

☆ . . . you would have to confess first, he’s aware theres some unspoken tension that lingers whenever you two are in the same vicinity but he doesn’t exactly know how to approach you on the subject without feeling like a complete fool.

☆ . . . once he gets comfortable with you though he’s totally a cheeky little bastard.

☆ . . . for the first few months of the relationship megumi would prefer to be secretive and sneak around with you … the closest thing you’ll get affection-wise in public is linking pinkies or him drawing patterns on your thigh under a table when nobody is looking.

☆ . . . around the fourth or fifth month he’ll feel ready to go public (tell yuji and nobara) he’ll ask like a hundred times if you were ready as well and if you weren’t he’d have no problem with waiting.

☆ . . . i could see him with a partner who he shares the same vaules and philosophies with. he wouldn’t go out of his way to personally seek an extroverted s/o but he can find himself gravitating towards people with bubbly/outgoing personalities.

☆ . . . megumi is a quiet lover, choosing to express his affections through gestures rather than words.

☆ . . . spotify/apple music playlists are his go-to !!! i hc that he’s super into poetry so the playlist name would be a shorten quote of a sonnet or poem that reminds him of you.

☆ . . . once a month you guys pick out books for each other to read and annotate (his idea.) he gives you a nonfiction or thriller book while you always give him a romance book.

☆ . . . his annotations will either vary from vague one liners like “nice” and “cool quote” or two to three lines of why the protagonist shouldn’t have forgiven the love interest so quickly.

☆ . . . you know that movie trope where someone says “i’m definitely not gonna do that thing” and the scene immediately cuts to them doing that exact thing? yeah that’s megumi when it comes to doing facemasks.

☆ . . . he’ll be sooo reluctant but as soon as you smear the watermelon cucumber clay mask on his face he practically purrs like a kitten. he’s relaxed and happy to have a lil pampering day with you.

☆ . . . he’s more of a listener than a talker, whenever you’re reciting your day to him or rambling about a new show his gaze is so intense and stern you’d think he’s mad at you or not paying attention.

☆ . . . he assures that he was listening and that he’s always listening to you regardless of what you talk about.

☆ . . . he loves to hold you and be held !! it took him some time to ease into the physical aspect of a relationship like cuddles and kisses but he grew accustomed soon with some reassurance.

☆ . . . his favourite cuddle position is where your head rest on his chest with his arms securely wrapped around your waist as your legs are all tangled up together.

☆ . . . all in all, dating megumi is overall a tranquil and lovely experience, you’ll feel loved and cherished everyday you’re with him, even if his actions aren’t explicit he tries his very best to make you happy with the little things.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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blingblong55 · 8 months

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Until I found you-König

GN!Reader, angst, fluff

Oh, let me hold you I'll never let you go again like I did

Your relationship with König was more than amazing, he always looked forward to coming home to you. But as the missions started to pile up for him, the more he saw himself losing hope to come home safe or alive. He couldn't and wouldn't be the reason why you were sad if he were to die, so he thought that maybe if he broke up with you before one of the toughest missions he's been on, surely you'd be able to move on without him in the world.

The day that he broke up with you was nothing but painful, you were sad but also mad at him. His reasoning was not clear and all you could think about was that maybe there was someone else for him and he just didn't want you to know that. Were you not enough? Was there something wrong with the way you loved him? He definitely knew you loved him with every fibre of your being but you didn't think he was fully aware of how much love you have for him. There was a deeper reason for this, not just because he thought I'd be mean of him to leave you alone and in despair.

Two months ago he was closer to death than ever before. A bullet passed through his shoulder, it was by pure luck he never got hit. That was when reality set in for him. He can't just leave you like that. Stupid excuse for such a valid reason. And now, as he walks into the flat you two called home, your stuff is gone and the home feels colder. The colours and comfort the place brought him once, are now gone with you.

Reality set in. He let the one good thing he had in this miserable world go. If only he was as smart in love as he is on the field. What a shame. König now sits on the sofa that you two once cuddled in after he came home. What a fool was he to think he'd have you for years to come. He used to think he was at risk of getting hurt only to be the one who brought such pain to a wonderful and kind person. Couldn't he be more kind to your heart and feelings? Memories flush through, the night he got news his Oma died, you were there. Holding him close he silently cried for her. You were there the day his mum was in the hospital, calming him down, making tea and visiting his mum every week after the incident. You made sure to clean her face after every meal, made him feel comfort when he felt it was wrong to be weak and you were the one who was there the night he had the worst panic attack due to his PTSD.

Why is he such a fool?

He saw you at the park, reading a book under your favourite tree. He smiles, knowing that at least that part of you has never changed. If he is such a tough and ruthless soldier then why hasn't he gone to you and started to talk? Because he is a coward at love, not war. You laid back, jumper on your back to make the tree bark more comfortable to rest on. He used to be the one you rested on as you read. It was the one thing he loved to do in public. He was Shakespeare and you his Anne. The muse to his love and sonnets.

"Liebe?" he softly says as he finally has the courage to talk and approach you. "König." you sounded surprised. Oh, how he longed to hear your voice and the sweet sound you made when you said his name. Sweet angel, his sweet sweet angel.

Now, four years since he and you rekindled your love, you two now chase your dog around the park because the dog can't let go of the dog bone a little kid threw by accident. You are now his spouse, the one and only for a man like him. Never did he know he could feel so much for one person, yet he is there, loving, protecting and caring for you.

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