stardust & stories

jl song. poetry sideblog. // our bodies are made of stardust; our souls are made of stories.

[farmgf]

IT’S SPRINGTIME YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. PASS THE INSTRUCTIONS ON NOT GIVING UP BY ADA LIMÓN

[farmgf]

IT’S THE GREENING OF THE TREES THAT REALLY GETS TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!

[wovi]

[florallychaotic]

Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor

[snowonthebeachmp3]

trans actual uk - trans led and run advocacy, education and empowerment organisation

fiveforfive - collective fund for trans women and girls and transfem causes

gendered intelligence - trans led advocacy org

mermaids - supports trans youth

akt - lgbtq youth homelessness charity

loving me - domestic abuse service for trans people in england

not a phase - for trans adults

[metamorphesque]

this is what it means to be human

Everything, Mary Oliver

The Breathing, Denise Levertov

A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)

Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara

Eating Together by Li-Young Lee

The Orange by Wendy Cope

The Quiet Machine, Ada Limón

To Go Mad, Paruyr Sevak

Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro

Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Peace XVIII, Khalil Gibran

Your Unripe Love, Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")

Here and Now by Peter Balakian

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

The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

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

Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva

You Are Tired (I Think) by E. E. Cummings

Living With the News by W.S.Merwin

What the Living Do by Marie Howe

[weltenwellen]

Ocean Vuong, The Weight of Our Living: On Hope, Fire Escapes, and Visible Desperation

[nativenews]

[nativenews]

[silverquillsideas]

translation in bengali

translation in hindi

translation in japapnese

translation in Filipino

translation in greek

translation in korean

translation in tamil

translation in bahasa malaysia

translation in nepali

translation in somali

link to the original tweet.

[nashira]

"The Philippines is the 169th country with the highest suicide rate, with 2.2 suicides per 100,000 people."

[nashira]

fireflies by owl city / @.petfurniture / read my full poem here

[lifeinpoetry]

Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians don’t see the moon from jail cells and prisons. It’s so beautiful, the moon. They’re so beautiful, the flowers.

— Noor Hindi, from “Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying,” DEAR GOD. DEAR BONES. DEAR YELLOW.

[hussyknee]

Her final tweet on October 8 reads:

“Gaza’s night is dark apart from the glow of rockets, quiet apart from the sound of the bombs, terrifying apart from the comfort of prayer, black apart from the light of the martyrs. Good night, Gaza.”

[gothhabiba]

The poem in the original Arabic:

(1) أعيذُكِ

في الفروضِ

والاستخارة

وأرقي كلَّ مأذنةٍ

وحارة

مِنَ الصاروخِ لحظةَ

كانَ أمرًا

مِنَ الجينرالِ

حتّى صارَ غارة

أعيذُكِ، والصغارُ

قبيلَ يهوي

تغيّرُ بابتسامتِها

مسارَه (2)

أعيذُكِ، والصغارُ هنا

نيامٌ

كما نامَ الفراخُ بحضنِ

عشِّ

ولا يمشونَ للأحلامِ ليلًا

لأنَّ الموتَ

نحوَ البيتِ

يمشي

ودمعُ الأمّهاتِ غدا يمامًا

ليتبعَهُمْ بِهِ

في كلِّ نعشِ

(3)

أعيذُ أبَ الصغارِ وبعدَ قصفٍ

يشدُّ البرجَ حتّى لا يميلا

يقولُ: للحظِة الموتِ

اِرْحَميني

"فماذا لو تأخّرتِ

قليلا؟"

يقولُ: "لأجلِهِمْ أحببتُ

عمري،

هبيهِمْ مثلَهُمْ

موتًا جميلا".

(4)

أعيذُكِ أنْ تصابي

أو تموتي

بعزِّ حصارِنا

وببطنِ حوتِ

شوارعُنا تسبّحُ كلَّ

قصفٍ

وتدعو للمساجدِ

والبيوتِ

فحينَ القصفُ يبدأُ

مِنْ شمالٍ

ستبدأً مِنْ جنوبٍ

بالقنوتِ

(5)

أعيذُكِ أنْ تصابي

أو تعاني

فقدْ حوّطتُ بالسبعِ

المثاني

مِنَ الفسفورِ طعمَ البرتقالِ

وألوانَ السحابِ

مِنَ الدخانِ

أعيذُكِ

إنَّ مَنْ عَشِقا وماتا

سينقشعُ الغبارُ

ويضحكانِ

Her last tweet reads:

معتمٌ ليل المدينة إلا من وهجِ الصواريخ، صامتٌ إلا من صوت القصف، مخيف إلا من طمأنينة الدعاء، أسود إلا من نور الشهداء. تصبحي على خير يا #غزة. #طوفان_الأقصى

[girlfictions]

Hiba Abu Nada, from I Grant You Refuge (trans. Huda Fakhreddine)

Hiba Abu Nada was a novelist, poet, and educator. She wrote this poem on Oct. 10th, 2023. She died a martyr, killed in her home in south Gaza by an Israeli raid on Oct. 20th, 2023. She was 32 years old.

[firstfullmoon]

I know it’s not much in the face of everything but I have been finding hope & resilience in palestinian poetry these past few weeks and I created a google drive file of poetry collections by palestinian poets that I will keep updating as I keep on reading. I also recommend checking out @fiercynn’s palestinian poets series for more poets + poetry available online

[firstfullmoon]

I’m unable to share it because I bought the kindle version but HIGHLY recommend maya abu al-hayyat’s collection you can be the last leaf translated by fady joudah. some poems were published here and here

[havingapoemwithyou]

Poems from Palestine | The Baffler

A series of poems from Palestine, curated by the poet and translators Fady Joudah and Lena Tuffaha.

A series of poems from Palestine, curated by the poet and translators Fady Joudah and Lena Tuffaha.

[girlfictions]

"Who Remembers the Armenians?" by Palestinian poet Najwan Darwish / "Who Remembers the Palestinians?" by Armenian writer Sophia Armen

[haykhighland]

By Najwan Darwish, Palestinian Poet

[nashira]

i am not table talk. my body is not a conversation

for anyone other than myself.      there is nothing

you have to share that i haven’t already thought

about or wanted.        i don’t need your “what if”

because no one wishes more than i do. no one

wants more than i do.     no one has thought of

what i want for me more than i do.       my body

is not a damn bee hive or a plate for any of you

to be swarming around and taking from until

there’s nothing left.    my body is not a crime

scene or an accident.             i don’t need any crowd

telling me what moves to make with my life because

i am the only one who has to live with it.

instagram / twitter

[havingapoemwithyou]

fuck your lecture on craft, my people are dying by Noor Hindi