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#em's poetry
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Poetry on Palestine
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okay but nessie was given the scientific name nessiteras rhombopteryx so she’d be included in the conservation of wild creatures and wild plants act of ‘75.
it’s a felony to shoot bigfoot in washington state.
the human race has sent out messages to the stars, hoping that any extraterrestrials who hear will accept our offer of friendship.
ghost hunters extend their sympathy to the souls of murder victims and bring along items that the spirits loved in life.
I think there’s something very human about the desire to believe in the paranormal. we don’t know if any of these things truly exist, but we make the offer of friendship and protection anyway. I just think it’s really lovely in its own ridiculous way.
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happyheidi · 2 months
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𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑣𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑠 ⋆ ✬. ✩
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mournfulroses · 9 days
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Gertrud Kolmar, from Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems; "Lassan,"
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newvision · 2 months
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E.M. Forster, from Maurice
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Euripides
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Herakles - Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson)
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marketfreshfics · 2 days
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Poem request just for Ominis? No MC, no other characters, just him? Idlove something melancholy.
A burden rests upon a soul wrought and weary, the weight of history bearing down. Endured in quiet agony, a profound legacy is left behind, and my hands are pried open to reclaim.
The significance of it all…
It is where webbed truths remain veiled in shadows, catching stray hopes, preying on promises.
And with the familial bond bared, I am an oversight, deemed over sight, haze so profound, so permanent.
This reality is rooted firmly in tragedy and all that it has toiled.
Thoughts dwell in the depths, where whispers long to linger, embracing my deepest fears with a tender touch that unveils vulnerability amidst villains.
Dark inheritance mars the days past and present, with future on the cusp;
I grapple with the foreshadowing, the black clouds, the miasma that threatens to engulf, encroaching.
But it is overcast; caught in limbo of what was, what is, what could be. Freedom eludes me. Liberation, lies. Escape, forbids.
These shadows entwine, tendrils delicately woven through my veins.
A stagnant inheritance of sorrow. Gold with the tarnish of ash. A kingdom’s throne of thorns.
Enveloped in contemplation, I delve to uncharted territories of my being.
These lungs crave a mere respite of radiance, capable of piercing the unwavering void.
And in isolation, a fragile flicker moves within, celebrating defiance of the oppressive darkness.
To escape this prison constructed by kin, to let my blood, to wash it clean, such filth in purity;
The irony is not lost on me. I beg, sanctuary. I remain, all-seeing.
I have seen… enough.
Track cover: @starrysallow
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anapdsbb · 1 month
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Não fique esperando por
uma pessoa que
não dá a mínima pra você...
Se ela realmente quiser algo,
ela vai fazer, ela vai estar presente.
Não se entregue facilmente a alguém
que não está disposto a te priorizar
e te amar.
- às 4:47 da madrugada
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hinata-boke · 1 year
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karuta!!
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the book of the lover and the beloved (c. 1300) - ramon llull
“my beloved: medieval babies” (talking about the guy below)
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becodapoeta · 6 months
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Se me pegar olhando para um ponto fixo, por favor não me tire dali.
- Beco da Poeta
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passarodesol · 4 months
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E o gato se apaixonou e negociou suas sete vidas, por apenas uma ao lado dela.
Sabia que seria um prazer: crescer, errar, melhorar, ter somente uma vida para amar e ser amado. E ela era o todo, ela era a vitalidade necessária, a forma viva do sublime.
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victusinveritas · 3 months
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ullybug · 7 days
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fire with fire by aliceband
(x, x, x, x, x, x, x)
woah my thirtieth edit....
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newvision · 2 months
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E.M. Forster, from Maurice
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marketfreshfics · 13 days
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Em! If you're still taking poem requests, can I please ask for a female MC confessing their feelings for one of the boys? I love them all 🥰💖
Well, thank you for the dealer's choice. Truth be told, I wrote this a while ago for @ask-ominis, however, I cannot for the life of me recall if I sent it or not? Fantastic short-term memory on this one. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this so I'd love to share it here as well PS: audio cover photo by the lovely @dvinaamesca
Ominis,
It was always your patience for me.
Not your charm, though I suppose the two collaborate. You might have imagined your subtle dry remarks would be what caught my focus, your clever wit pulling grins. 
Or perhaps the wisdom you share when least expected, catching me unprepared, but always eager to listen.
No, instead it’s the time you spend simply waiting. 
For me to find a page in a textbook, sharing yours when I forget mine.  For me to finish breakfast when I’m teased for eating slowly.  For my tears to dry when I receive terrible news.
And I’ll keep with the theme of honest confessions. There are moments I steal a glance or two because your eyes, despite their drawn curtains, command a blend of awe and attention. 
I imagine someone gathered all the constellations they could carry and threw them to the wind,  landing in your irises,  caught in your lashes. 
Time is rendered priceless; easy to spend with you, and your sweetness lingers long after your presence, 
like fingers perfumed citrus after a clementine is peeled,  or heavy honey dredged up from the bottom of a tea gone cold.
But for all the kindness you offer, I notice now how empty the well you draw from becomes.
You hesitate to admit struggling, but I see the tells; bleary eyes framed by dark recesses, chapped lips bitten bloody,  chewed fingernails catching on your sleeves. 
The pain manifests in a controlled consumption from a voracious maw of your very blood.
All standards and expectations and daunts of Gaunts before you,  a decorum and propriety for archaic institutions, a plot you cease to play, and no love lost for those loved ones.
It seems this lifetime was never patient with you. And yet, you deserve all the patience of a lifetime.
This feeling, I confess, fascinates just as much as it terrifies; it’s no meager blossom in my chest but a tower collapsing in on itself, 
all massive  and loud  and chaotic. 
Still I hesitate, wary of the naivety in my chest and the musings of dreams, influential as they may be. 
So I send this, eager to know how your heart beats near me, wrapped in the taut cream and roses of your skin. 
And I wonder, quietly, innocently, if I may feel it.
I never thought I’d find myself content with waiting. So virtuous that patience is, after all.
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OH LEMME TELL YOU BOUT THE SAD MAN
SHUT UP AND LEMME SEE YOUR JAZZ HANDS
REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE A MADMAN?
THOUGHT YOU WAS BATMAN
AND HIT THE PARTY WITH A GAS CAN
KISS ME YOU ANIMAL
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