#this wasn't meant to be a poem

[syaraan]

The Nameless Things

The Nameless Things of Tolkien's world,

What are they? What are they? Where do they hide?

deep in the caverns, beyond balrogs in mines

hidden deep in the waters, surpassing all's ability to find

old as the world, younger than song

unspoken by angels, yet known by gods?

but are they known? these Nameless Things

found past all trace of light and sound

'found' I say, yet never found

even Evil has a name,

even The Eye needs something to see

What are these? What are these? The Nameless things

#tolkien #nameless things #this wasn't meant to be a poem #peom #lord of the rings #lotr #silmarillion #tolkien inspired #middle earth #eldrich horror #syaraan #sy saga #sy speaks

[brisketrotater]

GOD I love machines. I love you hydraulic press, injection press, and printing press. I love you excavators, elevators, typewriters, and calculators. Flying machines, submarines, the things that bind our magazines. Aircraft carriers, catapults, flood barriers, and stem bolts.

I want to make out with them sloppy style

#this wasn't originally meant to be a poem but fuck it #brisket's writing #machines

[the-timony-souler]

questions to ask yourself when you are tired of running in circles

do you have someone to call at 3am - when it feels like your whole world is falling apart?

when the silence is too loud and opening your eyes doesn’t end the nightmares when there are too many unanswered questions and thinking out loud is the only way to untangle memories that stained your teeth because you thought swallowing them would somehow stop the bleeding only now every time you try to smile nothing but the hurt shines through and all you learned is that you’re only beautiful when you’re covered in scars because the world needs everything to be imperfect to condone caring about it

will you actually call them?

and when you do will you dance around the secrets that gnaw at your insides trying to escape into the light – where maybe they won’t seem quite as monstrous as they feel when they’re locked up inside you – and maybe a problem shared becomes a solution when you let someone else shine a light on it but you never really learned how to put words to it and the weight of the burden you’re breaking under is far too heavy for somebody else’s shoulders and you’ve always been too proud to accept the hands that have offered to help bear the load but maybe leaving pieces of it buried behind you under the glass you crawled over to get here will let the broken bones heal and maybe you’ll figure out how to do that someday

when you think of love does it feel like healing or hurt?

you always say nothing is ever easy and nothing is ever free and the stitches that wind their way through your heart are proof enough of that – so why bother to think about love when all it’s ever been is hurt but remind yourself that for every one that broke you there was another there to help patch you up with golden needle and spider-web silk marking your heart with soft glows instead of hard blows because fists and cigarette burns leave nothing but cold and you never knew how to keep yourself warm without someone else setting you on fire first

are you happy – right now, in this moment, in this exact version of yourself?

Knowing the answer to that question is next to impossible but you are not who you used to think you are – who you thought you were supposed to be but what is happiness anyway and how are you supposed to decide if this is it if smiles are only used to mask the pain and laughter hides all the things you can’t say out loud but maybe that’s just what happiness looks like

is there a single thing you would change about who you are right now?

you let someone else dictate who and what you should be and you never questioned why you let their standards erase your own- and now you’ve gone and exhausted yourself chasing the myth of ‘enough’ without ever stopping to look in the mirror and realising that you have always been enough- because when you stand still your soul shines bright on kindnesses you planted in soil everyone said would never nourish but you'll keep running never looking back and you'll never run far enough – see they lied when they told you that stopping is failing and you tied those words around your neck never wondering why you chose to wear the noose

do you know how to?

there's never been a single thing you couldn't do when you put your mind to it – except being soft and kind to yourself- and you can't remember a time when it wasn't you against the world alone and lost and hopeless and helpless so you learned the only thing darkness and demons can ever teach: to build impenetrable walls that only ever locked you in to arm yourself for battles that you will on ever fight against yourself to hurt them before they tear open old wounds and new and through all of this you will snuff out anything that could begin to resemble hope but there’s always that one stubborn star that refuses to stop glowing even after it has long been pronounced dead and dust – and it will name itself chance- the chance to surrender your defences, the chance to throw down your weapons the chance to remove the armour that only ever bound and suffocated – and chance will become hope and become dream and become love and faith and trust and you will learn that you can be soft and you can be kind when you stop seeing what you expect and start looking for something you’ve never known before

but do you actually want to?

you will start tomorrow – because it’s a ‘new day, new you’ kind of moment and you will make promises the same way you make up lies to decorate the home you never got to build- and tomorrow will come to hear you say “i am too tired now, i’ll start tomorrow, after i’ve gotten some rest” – but you do not know how to stop running away from the ghosts that live inside your ribcage – beating a rhythm that never lets you think of something that could be more than this and every tomorrow will be just like today and so will the lies you keep telling yourself

#poetry #spilled ink #poem #i think this was meant to be hopeful #but i lost hope in the peron i might have accidentally written it for #and i'm pretty sure they'll never find the way out #but i hope the rest of us do #anyway it wasn't good enough for the lit festival so i can share it with the world now

[thicc-astronaut]

The great outdoors is where I long to go

The tree canopy above and fertile soil below

Adam and Eve left the garden forever to roam

but once in a while it’s nice to visit home

Science says our ancestors lived in the trees

I believe it because in the forest I’m at ease

To have the leaves and twigs turn under my feet

Why did we ever settle for jungles of concrete?

#a poem by me #my writing #I have a camping trip coming up soon that I'm excited for #i wrote this while doing the dishes #the outdoors #song lyrics #It's meant to be read as a sort of singsong way #OH JEEPERS it reads to the Green Acres theme song that wasn't supposed to happen

[writingonesdreams]

I spilled my soul

In words to you

You turned away

When you had enough

I felt rejected

Naturally

But maybe

It wasn't that I failed

To reach you

But that you weren't

The right person

From the beginning

---

Cause the right one

Would have seen my soul

And treasured it

#writeblr #my writing #poetry #poem #this realization just felt very comforting all of sudden #it wasn't my fault #we just weren't meant to be #I guess you just have to read the signs earlier instead of trying to push your way in #just because you feel a connection

[nilisntgreat]

#look i get it #the feeling of being replaced #but nothing turns out how someone wants it to #the point of life is going on despite what has happened. #i don't get the point of showing me images i already saw. #i sent an ask #i am will to be her friend. #you were so desperate for me to leave #i ran from merc to someone i knew and when she left me. #told me good-bye #i left. #i take poems very seriously #i meant it #i am not going to lie in a poem #poems come straight from the heart for me. #i can't keep going and hurting myself for you guys. #roxy left #i wasn't replacing her or making her mercs #i choose someone i knew before merc. #i was scared but i choose her before him #but she left #she was the final straw. #the final person i would be dating in that mess. #i want a serious relationship not that.. not me being expendable #i choose her i ran to her because i held onto whatever hope i had left that someone would stay #what do you want me to do? #Vent

[moonsickwolf]

I'm taught I'm not allowed to hope, because every time I do I am rewarded with tragedy. I cannot even hope silently, expecting no real results, because to life all hope is the same whether you act on it or not.

#my rot #poetry #poem #extremely short one #i had two cats pass recently #right in between i had one day i felt like a normal person #which is my only desire. it was the best day of my life #but every time before and after that day i hoped things would get better. like that day #but it's only ever got worse #i believe it's a sign i wasn't meant to hope

[chaotic-symphony]

i hate being in love

it brings out the worst in me

all my flaws come right the surface

how i cling to all the serotonin and positives for just alittle too long

how the static echos in my head at other times

it reminds me of who i was 2 years ago

has nothing changed?

is this who i'll always be?

i wish i didn't yearn to hear his voice again. i wish i could see him. but he's so far away.

i wish for certainty. i feel like im pulling petals of a daisy does he love me? does he not? does he love me does he not?

is this fear holding my tongue or has hanazaki taken hold.

will my next cough be paired with rose petals?

or will the static just disappear.

and give me peace

#poetry #rantings #wasn't originally meant to be a poem

[off-brand-orpheus]

"Things Aren't Bad"

I'm not happy I don't think I'm happy But I feel content(?) Like there's nothing bad happening I'm not falling asleep I'm in a class with a teacher I like (Ripley) With people I'm friendly with (Macey, Malia, ...?) And a subject that's interesting (1972 olympics)

My mind can't focus And I'm fidgeting more than usual But it's because I'm excited I'm excited because there are hardly moments in my life

Where things aren't bad I'm not happy But things aren't bad

#title: #Things Aren't That Bad #original poem #poems and poetry #positive vent #I found this in my little black book...which wasn't meant to be a poem but I thought it took an interesting poetic tone #so here we are #I changed the names for privacy reasons by the way

[counterturn]

It's still hard not to think in terms of numbers. As if some combination or calculation could tell me what the hell it is I'm doing.

Eleven weeks since your brown eyes looked at me They still look at me when I close mine Four hours stuck in traffic You wouldn't do that for just any idiot Six beers that wanted to be ten and fifteen and twenty As we unravel a thousand mysteries between us Twelve messages, sent over two weeks Finally read at 3:36 AM One long moment Forever caught between our lips

And zero Zero regrets Zero chance I've learned my lesson Zero desire for anyone else

#writing #poetry #it wasn't really meant to be a poem #I just wanted you to know how I was feeling #sorry #I'm feeling sorry

[inkskinned]

i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.

my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.

but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.

oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.

you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.

when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.

oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.

#spilled ink #warm up #wlw #writeblr

[bpdamandayoung]

ooooh i get it now, the curse starts with me

#i've been reading about bpd from sources i got from my therapist and there's a lot of talk about how if someone in your family has/had bpd #you might inherit it etc etc but like. no one in my family/environment matches the description #so. the curse starts with me. and i might pass it on and that would be my biggest contribution to this family #it doesn't put me in a great mood ngl #reminds me of a little poem my bestie wrote me in a birthday card when i was a kid about how she's wishing me to be 'not first but chosen' #i hope that wasn't what she meant but still funny #anyways i'm gonna get back to being delusional alone in my room byeeeee #depression and stuff #bpd is a fucking curse

[hedgehog-moss]

Look at the delicious sushi for llamas I made today:

It's courgette stuffed with deworming paste and thanks to Poldine my plan went swimmingly. Pampelune is sometimes distrustful on deworming day, but when they saw Poldine get a treat then try to steal the other treats which were obviously meant for them, the other animals hurried to claim their own medicinal courgette as well.

Except Pampe. (How many times have I written these words.) She looked at her sushi, looked at me, sniffed every side of the courgette, decided it smelled like deceit, and walked away.

I felt daft for not going the muesli route straight away. Like all great tricksters Pampérigouste is suspicious by nature but she can't resist muesli. So I un-stuffed the courgette and used the sticky deworming paste to fashion a little muesli ball.

It was gooey and not very appetising but it's muesli, right? I camouflaged the muesli ball in a dish of innocent muesli and offered it to Pampe, but unfortunately she was now very aware that I was up to something. Instead of mindlessly vacuuming the contents of the muesli dish as she usually does, she examined the strange slimy little ball, pushed it away with her nose with obvious contempt, then ate the normal muesli. I tried (with increasing insistence and frustration) to convince her to eat the damn muesli ball, but no.

New idea: I went to the kitchen to get some pumpkin rinds, and squished the muesli ball between two small pieces of pumpkin skin like a Choco BN (if you're from the US, picture an orange worm-killing Oreo). Pampe likes pumpkin skin! I tried to explain to her that she would be punishing only herself if she refused the (admittedly deceitful) offering out of principle.

Somehow she managed to eat the outside 'biscuits' and spit out the stuffing.

At this point I had to shame her. (I told her to look ashamed for this photo; not sure she understood the assignment)

I had exhausted my creativity and had nothing left but the mean method. I got Pampe in llama jail, aka the school room where I spent many hours trying to teach her to wear a halter and be a good docile llama when she was little, while she spent many hours trying to escape by any conceivable means—high jumps, bribery, tunnels, you name it.

(In the background behind Poldine you can see the bag of hay that I used to get the llamas to follow me into the corral. Pampe naively thought I had given up on trying to make her eat gross slimy things and was about to give her a normal meal)

She tried a strange kind of escape this time around, which honestly might have worked if she were a swift salmon returning to her natal river to spawn, slicing against the current in a series of graceful, forward-arching curves. But she's a llama. It's like she forgot she wasn't all neck and also had a body that needed to clear this obstacle.

I sang her a little song to soothe her, and scritched her face, and managed to get a llama kiss which is more affection than I've ever received from a currently-jailed Pampe—her daughter really is a good influence on her!

So of course I took advantage of this moment of calm and trust to stick my hidden secret syringe in the corner of her mouth and push 2cm of deworming paste onto her tongue.

She was VEXED and WROTH.

We were talking about learning poetry by heart the other day; well, if Pampérigouste did that, "I am rowing (a hex poem)" is the poem she would have invoked in that moment.

After I left, all the other animals hurried into the corral to eat the hay I had used to get Pampe in, while Pampe turned her back on the meal and walked away a strategic distance, far enough to show me that she felt betrayed and would never eat any food I bring her ever again, not so far that she couldn't go back in and fight the donkey for what was left of the hay as soon as I stopped looking.

#crawling along

[wanderingline]

I don’t think I’ve posted the whole page here yet, but here it is

#poem series #yeah it wasn't meant to be displayed as a whole hence the varying orientations #but I think it looks good as a whole #watercolours #illustration #poetry

[neil-gaiman]

I got to see you tonight, you, little you all the way up, from the penultimate row of the circle section of seats. Row W seat 45. In the opera house that is, and when I left I looked back to marvel at it at 11 pm at night.

It was illuminated by the city, a bat flew above I could make out as well as I made you out down on stage, glowing in light, and I like to believe the bat sang; perhaps of umbrellas.

I have wanted to message you. I have spent hours studying your tumbler reblogs and likes (I google you♪) and QnAs and don't dare ask about good omens. You've heard it enough and if you don't know that it will end in a garden just like it began then what do I know. I've never had enough of an excuse before...

Before tonight; so here I am in your inbox to say I really adored your poem written on the 26th of January, 2011 did you say? It really moved me and made something felt heard that I long to hear screamed from all.

You wouldn't of seen me crying, and I kept it as quiet as possible in hopes no one around me heard either. My heart couldn't hold all the vibrations, the beautiful and elegant yet wild Fourplay, and the song the bat in your chest sang that I got to hear was all too full and heavy and light and joyful for me. Little me in the back, with no date, with Shaun tans older work (the arrival) in ink on my flesh, with a copy of equal rites in my bag that if for some random chance I bumped into you, British you in my city, I would bother and beg you to sign it, plagiarizing Terry's signature. And maybe even ask you , if it wasn't too much trouble, to hug it for me.

I forgot the exact phrase but was it the fight of flesh? Something about flesh that meant something similar to pickling and tickling. I really quite liked that bit too. I enjoyed almost all of it, and wanted to apologise for how dead the packed house was. I was too nervous to stand for your final applause; I can only assume everyone being in THE Sydney Opera house in front of THE Neil Gaiman and THE fourplay quartett was, and was saddened to see not many pick up on your hints to beg you all for more. It was a sad walk back to the mic I must say. Not on your shoulders mind you, your wordcraft made the evening a magical memory I will not forget it. Thank you very kindly Neil ♡

You are so sweet. Thank you. (Don't worry. We didn't have anything left for another encore, and we had a curfew so had to be off the stage.)

I'll check on the lyric and let you know in a reblog.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

#im on my dick grayson wingman arc idk why #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #batboys #batfam #jason todd hot #jason todd headcanon #jason todd flirting #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfic #dick grayson flirting #dc headcanon #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd jealous #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batboys x reader