well
lets see where this goes.
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Peter Solarz
No title available
Claire Keane
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Sade Olutola
trying on a metaphor
occasionally subtle

Janaina Medeiros

if i look back, i am lost

shark vs the universe
taylor price

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast
Sweet Seals For You, Always

JBB: An Artblog!
noise dept.
NASA
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo

seen from Malaysia
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@blaqueerjourney
well
lets see where this goes.
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✊🏽✊🏽✊🏽✊🏽
i’m not even sexually frustrated i’m romantically frustrated like i just wanna fukn hold ur hand and cuddle n shit but like AGGRESSIVELY
@sexual-texts (via sexual-texts)
Terence Crutcher Another one was killed today. Keith Lamont Scott. He was shot dead sitting in his car by a Charlotte Mecklenburg officer while reading a book. So many black lives have been killed, you’d think you were watching the end of a movie. This list is too long.
THIS is what really matters. THIS should go viral.
#BlackLivesMatter
You are a Cosmos, but no meteorites need land here.
Follow more at www.blaqueerflow.com
BlaQueerFlow turned 6 today!
why do white people breathe so hard like haven’t you stolen enough
Still He Resisted: Black Boy Beaten In DC
Still He Resisted: Black Boy Beaten In DC
Even now, even here, even under blow and gun we resist. Still he resisted when they stopped him without cause. Still, he resisted when they snatched him from his dog. Still, he resisted, arms folded behind his back. Still, he resisted, eyes burnt bright with pepper. Still he resisted, punch to the front of his head. Still he resisted, as support only came in word and eye. Still he…
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Wake Up Baby: A Call To Re-member You You can do this. You must do this. You will do this. There are no ifs. You are the master of your destiny.
Moonlight: A Necessary Re-Sighting
Moonlight: A Necessary Re-Sighting
Photo: Tabias Olajuaown, By Billy Malloy
Moonlight was not on my radar, at first, but perhaps this is what happens when moon’s approach each other. Perhaps they are blinded to the presence of another orbital being. Perhaps the siting is so queer, so rare, that it seems mundane; a simple reflection of oneself in the circular nature of life. I had heard the title, perhaps seen the preview, but it…
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Sister, Don't Die
Sister, Don’t Die
She struck me, standing there in her full beauty. Simply dressed, hair pulled back but loose and free, a feat only black hair can do without chemical castration. She struck me, deep, standing there on the corner; the lights of the library and ongoing traffic reflecting off her blue-black skin and eyes. It was as if all creation was finding proof of its existence in her being, in her presence, in…
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They All Must Die: The Ones I Leave Behind
They All Must Die: The Ones I Leave Behind
Death is the cool of winter unraveling roots and leaves of beings who have outlived their welcome, but done their duty none-the-less. Death is the threshing floor; it clears and it sweeps. However, death does not discard. It remembers. It recalls. It tills all that was, into what will, and must be. Death is a reunion, a homecoming. There are pieces of me held by the dying, that cannot be…
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The Horn (a poem)
The Horn (a poem)
by Jordan Barnes
how many horns must I withstand before I can hear Louis? fret not I sit, thankful in silent respect, but still waiting – waiting for the horn to remember its place, its wondrous place! a setting adorned with the souls of children and babes disguised as men with unheld hands, course over brass buttons, stinking of cigarettes and reefer – it forgot it belonged on Earth. The horn…
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Writing Lies.
What good do your words do If they can’t understand you Don’t go talkin’ that shit Badu, Badu
On & On, Erykah Badu
Writing is a practice of breaking, becoming and believing. Sometimes I run from it. Sometimes I hide under my blankets in passive rebellion. Other times I sit at my screen blankly or reject it for my journal and, instead of writing, I scribble. I scribble things that I have to do.…
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Stream of Loving Consciousness
Stream of Loving Consciousness
I loved him in a secret place. It wasn’t hiding. It was somewhere, some where, some place I couldn’t put my tongue to but I knew it existed. I didn’t know where it was but I knew it was. I knew because it was a soul-truth. Not one of those truths where your tongue just does a few tricks and flips and clicks and some sort of phrase comes out that sounds good enough. Not that. Not that type of…
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