the thing with feathers

Hey, I'm Liz! I'm 30, genderfluid, bi and this is my poetry blog. You can find other poems of mine at effervescentlyincandescently.tumblr.com :) (also, all the poems here with a link back to this blog, I wrote and are mine) I follow back via thelancer

[lengthofropes]

ok duffers, a question here

[incandescent-irreverence]

Why he look at him like this hello

[sufferingfrommoodpoisoning]

At this point, I wouldn't mind if the emotions Mike's been suppressing burst out like this:

Source

[incandescent-irreverence]

Which Emotion

I'm curious as to which emotion God wants me to feel right now

is it the deep rage, incredulous fury at the capturing of Latino men

is it sorrowful heartbreak over trans men and women being denied rights

being told they are mentally ill

killed every day over and over

is it peace in my heart for the soul in each of us; do they truly not know what they do

is it horror at the stark contrast today's news displays or

is it knowledgeable for seeing there was so much I wasn't seeing

in the pits of this I have seen the true thoughts of my fellow person

how they hate, how they burn with it

well I'm sure that torture on their skin is what they're reflecting

does God want me to weep more to pray more to hope more to quiet more

I feel my voice rising to my throat more

I can't keep silent in all this violence

the painful thought that others did and so we're here; stepping further into our enlightenment

we demand for the truth so it will be heard

we yearn for a future so it must be paved

our lives have been fighting so we'd know how to fight

our minds have been opened so we'll do what is right

I could never deny the rights of my fellow human being

I beg to know why so many think they can

as I hold tight to every shred of integrity I can muster

I will see the sun rise again, feel it on my face and accept it

is it acceptance - could we ever know what he wants us to feel

could I ever ask him, her, they, them, she, it, listen:

we are what is inside, our hearts beating wildly, our fingers drumming that song

the one we march to, that one we heard inside before the telling

the bravery that lives in the presence of that moment, how it grew us and fed us, whichever way it was received

is it power, to know who I am, to love it in spite of every bigot spitting in the face of our progress

we cannot let it happen, the washing away, the erasure, the pulling into a man-made current

we will stand against that tidal wave, keep change, stay brave

and learn the power of a brick again

is it stillness; to bask in the beauty that exists anyways, to delight in the rain anyways, to take it in because where I am, it's been offered

is it to love, so fully and with everything I ever intended to do lined up like a reminder, with gratitude, living is the most beautiful and important rebellion of all

I can hear God's call, I'll shine my light and fight our fight and feel blessed

kept, held in faith for that brighter morning day

[madlori]

people think they shouldn't vote as a protest or whatever because they've been raised on boycotts. which do sometimes work.

boycotts deprive the target of money.

not voting does not deprive the government of money.

it does, however, deprive you of power.

it's not like a boycott.

[incandescent-irreverence]

VOTE FOR KAMALA HARRIS

[incandescent-irreverence]

Big Picture

Picture the big picture - on a stage, in a frame, cascaded with light; on and off

Then on, some brimming thing breathing life in the orchestra pit; her name a reverberation

I see her, as clear as day under green leaves, golden by the sun, speckled in shadow

And her smile finds a way to remind me of important things, the words to say

The finger to press against her lips and how to make good the day; the colors changing

[incandescent-irreverence]

Essence of Spring

I delight in the essence of spring slipping through the cracks of shut windows

she peers through blinds and envelops me in white blossoms on trees remembering how to give

their clusters beautiful and just awakening, like laughter bubbling up in a newly concious chest

the warm weather always some welcome surprise, how it keeps me looking forward to more days of it

where the sun sets later and later till summer and the shortest of nights graces us with love and with light

[effervescentlyincandescently]

Time's Rest

The minute before the sun Is restored to the sky that’s Waiting, time lies down to rest  Dreams the flowers grow instead Allows distance to slow and like A rapid, rushing river, weaves Bridges between us upon the Quiet of dawn, when the golden Light softens on the bottom of Your sleeping visage and I can Do nothing but trace patterns Among the stars scattered there  The constellations on your face  Time’s rest is my place where I get to sit and wait for you to Open your eyes, for your bright To catch mine, the sun blocking Your sight, til you squint past Its bite, see it’s me and smile

[effervescentlyincandescently]

Undone

I saw orange clouds Lit like fireflies never out Burning embers on a Setting sun, the day Undone in a moment Pink bleeding on to Frames of fluff, bursting Out on other ones And as I watched the Sky changing I knew Within the make of me That I was okay then And would be so again Hour by hour, minute By minute, like a sunrise Or sunset, altering Constantly, impossibly Beautiful and hard to Predict changes in Blinking lights that go Off and on, off and on

[effervescentlyincandescently]

Height of Me

I hope my dreams get louder Let them shout from the height of me Let me breathe free and not quietly I hope my love grows taller Let it grow wildly till the storm on the horizon Is mixed in with its brand of fun Let me be done, let my arms uncross And open to those that need them Let me keep it out, the dark din

[effervescentlyincandescently]

To Persevere

When you reach that Hill in the distance it’s Going to look so easy To climb but as you go Higher you will realize you Are not climbing a hill You are climbing a really Tall mountain and it’s  Hard because you don’t Climb mountains on a  Daily basis, if at all So when you reach that Hill (mountain) in the distance and It seems so simple but Mid-way will make you want To die as your lungs catch On ice and fire with the air Remember that despite  The sufferings you are literally  About to endure, for more  Than just a few small minutes It’s always nice to reach the top It’s always nice to know  You did not stop

[incandescent-irreverence]

Palm Lines

You ever noticed you were aging in your hands? Saw how life had been on them, stretching them and working them

Have you ever really looked at the lines on your palm, how there's a story there

One of life and love - have you ever thought about how life can be a synonym for multiple feelings?

One pain, one euphoria, one apathy

How we circle up and down so many things; How our ebbs and flows can become anything and we rarely know which way the river is turning

I want to trace my hands across the valley of your face and body forever

And as they get older, I will see the love

Emanating from them and pulsing into you

Like stars twinkling in a midnight sky I will glisten above you and inside you as time goes by

And when we clasp our hands together and I feel your bones press against mine

I will think on how divine it is to feel it

To hold your love in the palm of my hand; To be held in yours and smiling

[amargedom]

““You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.””

—

[heartofmuse]

I feel you, even when you are not here, and I smile with this Sun that shines in my chest so full of your love. You may be busy with a thousand things, I know, but even just imagining you makes me smile. There are forever pieces of you in me, and this magic between us allows us to, in silence, feel us and say a thousand things to each other. I hear your song spring from my heart, and it is so beautiful, my love. I love you, every instant, every second of each and every day. Never forget it and keep this knowledge in your heart, my love, always.

e.v.e.

[shuwuji]

do me a favor and rb this with your sun/moon and the last time you cried in the tags

[micdotcom]

Watch: Poet Porsha Olayiwola heartbreakingly reminds us all that black women’s lives matter too. 

[russula-nongrata]

“Men and boys are seen as the primary target of racial injustice,” AAPF associate director Rachel Gilmer told TakePart in May. “This has led to the idea that women and girls of color are not doing as bad, or that we’re not at risk at all.”

But studies show otherwise: Black women are killed and sexually assaulted by the police, and incarcerated at almost three times the rate of their white female counterparts. Yet news coverage of these cases are focused largely on the relationship between law enforcement and black men.

From the linked article above. None of this diminishes the importance of any Black Lives Matter protests or the lives of black men.

[swedepea]

Reblogged for the important infographic

[incandescent-irreverence]

I also reblogged for the poignant spoken word gifs

[funnytwittertweets]

[volchitsa-of-winterfell]

especially re: eating up savings:

"The less you eat, drink and read books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public-house; the less you think, love, theorize, paint, sing, fence, etc., the more you save—the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor dust will devour—your capital.  The less you are, the more you have; the less you express your own life, the greater is your alienated life—the greater is the store of your estranged being.

Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844

[incandescent-irreverence]

I read this quote in the george Clooney as fantastic mr fox's voice

[djklmnx]