Dried flowers and art

(She/her) Hullo! I post poetry. Sometimes. sometimes I just break bottles and suddenly there are letters @antagonistic-sunsetgirl for non-poetry

[huffylemon]

[sigynpenniman]

“Sunset over the Grocery Box,” by me. The view from my father’s front yard in January 2014.

[slowspinningredemption]

“Sunset at the End of My Driveway (Excluding Pavements Covered With the Shite of One Million Dogs)” by me.

[motherfucker-somewhat-limited]

“Sunset from My Front Yard Taken on an iPod Touch in 2010″

[hydrojinn]

“Sunset in Nov 2021 Taken in the Parking Lot of the Pharmacy”

“sunset from the parking lot of the diner taken on an iphone 5 in 2016”

[vimbry-moved]

the view across the road partially eclipsed by house, 2017

[xxtc-96xx]

Taken from a stepladder putting up Christmas lights

-2014, front yard

[an-autistic-with-personhood]

“Brewing Storm on an Evening Commute”

And “Finally, no Power Lines”

-Sept. 30, 2020, passenger seat of a moving Buick

[naamahdarling]

Behind a near-defunct mall in super small-town OK. HUGE rays.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

congrats on re-creating do you like the colours of the sky, lads

[the-elf-draws]

Asking for directions

[bonetrader]

Oh… - zooms in - Ohh…

That puts a whole different spin on it. It’s amazing either way, but now I need a moment.

[metamorphesque]

musings on July

"NW" Zadie Smith, "the Hands of Friendship" in Yerevan (@metamorphesque). "Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë (@flowerytale), Franz Kafka’s Diaries (@hungryfictions), "Summer night by the beach" Edvard Munch, "A Magic Mountain" Czeslaw Milosz (tr by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee), "Answer July" Emily Dickinson, "Four Sunflowers Gone to Seed" Vincent van Gogh, The Diaries of Franz Kafka (@shisasan)

[matineaux-deactivated20260222]

kind of weird how parts of your soul are left in various locations without any warning… like yes i’m always at the top of that hill, sitting at the bus stop, in the cool light of the Japanese restaurant, standing at the pier etc etc

[hi-im-ryn]

[karmacharmeleon18]

Bear tattoo this, loon tattoo that... I imagine Shane with a very sensible, small lily flower tattooed on his ring finger meanwhile Ilya struts around with a PROPERTY OF SHANE HOLLANDER 24 tramp stamp

[lizormianillustration]

whatever was left, that was ours for a while.

sunrise - louise glück

[the-uss-premise]

Hello Premise! (wonderful ask button btw)

I am also aware that you are not the actual premise. I just delight in nicknames

I just wanted to wish you a happy new year and say thanks for the cool content. Seeing old Star Trek fandom stuff really makes me feel all connected and inspired. Someone else loved this thing 50 years ago. How cool is that?

<3

WRONG! I AM HER! we're ALL the premise!!!

🫶 🫶 🫶

i don't think i'll ever get enough of it tbh, and i hope the world doesn't either <3 thank you so much for this message!!! it makes me really happy to know posting about zines and restoring the art is helping more people feel connected to something bigger. that's what it does for me too!

shout out to @fanlore-wiki. couldn't do it without you babes 💋

[loveridden1999]

hi hello remember that the plum you are going to eat next summer is growing just for you 🤍

[godtrauma]

the man who owns and runs the thai restaurant in my town knows me by name. he is one of the kindest and most thoughtful men i know. i started ordering from his place back in january, which was when i got my fibromyalgia diagnosis. back then i was using a walker, had limited mobility in my entire body but especially my hands, and was very visibly in pain. i always ordered the same thing: yellow curry with no meat, potatoes and carrots only (i have texture and other dietary issues). he always made it a point to make sure i could get out the door and carry the food safely. he had his workers package the food so that it was easier for me to open. as i kept coming back and i told him a little bit about my health status, he would always encourage me to keep going. he told me about how the spices he used were good for inflammation and began to edit the recipe just for me so that spices that were even better for fighting inflammation were used. he’d give me extra portions and despite the fact that i would tip every time, i realized later that he never charged my card for them. as time went on and my condition began to get better, especially with the help of a physical therapist, he would make encouraging remarks and tell me how happy he was for me. the day i came in without my walker, he practically jumped for joy, and despite my insistence, he gave me my meal for free that day. i continue to make progress with my conditions and i continue to go to the thai place. this man who does not know me personally and who i hardly know anything about is one of my favorite people. it’s interactions with humans like these that make loving life easier. and his curry really does help my chronic condition. it’s comfort food taken to the next level.

[lelif]

the beauty of life

- // @fairycosmos // ? // - // @cassidyshotchocolate // - // - // elsie de wolfe// @podencos // afternoon on a hill, edna st. vincent millay// rien ne va plus, margarita karapanou, tr. by karen emmerich// - // - // @ annalauraart on instagram// culpable, joy sullivan// - // @ jordanklancaster on instagram// @ niall.breen.comics on instagram// agatha christie// @plasticlove1984 //sweeter than fiction, taylor swift// the summer day, mary oliver

[bees-with-swords]

"Do you ever dream of land?" The whale asks the tuna.

"No." Says the tuna, "Do you?"

"I have never seen it." Says the whale, "but deep in my body, I remember it."

"Why do you care," says the tuna, "if you will never see it."

"There are bones in my body built to walk through the forests and the mountains." Says the whale.

"They will disappear." Says the tuna, "one day, your body will forget the forests and the mountains."

"Maybe I don't want to forget," Says the whale, "The forests were once my home."

"I have seen the forests." Whispers the salmon, almost to itself.

"Tell me what you have seen," says the whale.

"The forests spawned me." Says the salmon. "They sent me to the ocean to grow. When I am fat with the bounty of the ocean, I will bring it home."

"Why would the forests seek the bounty of the oceans?" Asks the whale. "They have bounty of their own."

"You forget," says the salmon, "That the oceans were once their home."

[hearnoweevil]

Last year I finally had an excuse to illustrate this simple little Tumblr story I've had bookmarked forever for class.

I hope you like it :]

[mummer]

“not unkindly” has to be one of the ultimate adverbs ever. Implies so much

[singing-bowl]

thinking about how ursula k leguin said "what goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives" and how everyday i wake up slightly different and i can feel myself shed the skin of who i used to be slowly, slowly, until i look back and can scarcely recognise who i was... but also she is still a part of me, part of the leaf litter and the humus, supporting me as i send new roots down and new leaves stretching up to the sunlight

[infectiouspiss]

you have to stay alive. you're going to be such a beautiful middle aged freak. young freaks will see you in the street and know that things can be okay.

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

I was 22 when I got my first bookstore job, and at the time my entire experience of "old people" was my grandparents, none of whom had been particularly healthy, and none of whom I was close with. To my young eyes, all they did was sit around and be old. That was life after 60.

The owner of the bookstore was this grand old dame of 76 who had been in the business for 40 years. She'd had three kids with a husband who was extremely gay, and as soon as those were old enough, they split up. She read on an epic scale, was an avid follower of the opera, sang in several choirs, and scheduled arts programming for a private club. She had gentleman callers (so they styled themselves) at the store continuously the entire fifteen years I worked there--yah, into her NINETIES. She never took up seriously with any of them, because they couldn't keep up. She was impeccably dressed and put together every single day of her life, drank regularly, and said they would pry her estrogen supplements out of her cold, dead hands. She had a gang of elderly single lady friends, though, and they went out every night of the week. They knew everything and everyone, collectively. She got her first smart phone in her mid-80s and became extremely Online. I bet she's on Tumblr now. She is 96.

This blew my mind. Life didn't have to be over...ever.

We worship youth in our culture. Only the young have futures, and the aged exist to enable the lives of the young. We act as if by the time you hit forty, you've had your chance. You are now expected to step aside and scede life to others.

FUCK THAT. I have a lot of life ahead of me. I have places to go and books to read and people to fuck and food to eat and music to dance to and emotions to feel and nazis to punch and stories to tell and hearts to break and ventures to capitalize and empires to conquer. I am going to be doing this for the next fifty years, minimum.

Life has so much in it. Do it all, forever.

[thecollectibles]

Art by Julia Peng

[jordanbolton]

To The Skateboarder - Jordan Bolton

My first book ‘Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car’ is now available to pre-order! Get it here - https://smarturl.it/BlueSky

[inkskinned]

i. when i was 19 and in a very hetero relationship, i fell in love with Andrea Gibson.

ii. we were poor so i was going to community college and also working a full-time job. i was miserable. the nicest thing that happened to me during that time was that someone bought me a free coffee. i had been sobbing in the corner of the library. she said you look like you needed help. i was so sad at the time that i was looking for "the sign". almost like a mantra, i'd say things like if there's a nice sunset, i won't kill myself tomorrow.

iii. you know, in all that time, i never wanted anything. the idea of desire was so foreign to me that i couldn't conceptualize a favorite color. what is want in the voidspace?

iv. andrea was the first, is the thing. i found their work on button poetry. i watched a poem once and then twice and then sat back and thought to myself - what i had been writing was not poetry, it was reaction. what andrea was writing was poetry. i knew it had to be, because it burst inside of me. i looked down and a hole had torn open. there was nothing for it. i put my hands inside the wound and started to pull.

v. it was slam poetry and then pretentious poetry and then esoteric poetry and then the black mountain poets and then tender buttons and then back to slam again and then back to the classics and theory and the academic shit and then finally thank-god understanding started dawning and then upwards into contemporaries and inwards into why aren't i writing something real and then realizing i never understood anything then crying about three syllables that don't sound right and then sunning myself outside of the emily dickinson house and then back to slam and back to the roots of it and backwards into -

vi. and the joy! holy fuck i wish i could tell you about it. on the back of ink came life. it was community and safety and pushing limits. it was saying oh yeah no i'm gay and oh shit i'm nonbinary. it was a cliche; life like a map just exploding. because i knew - i had my thing. wherever i went, so too would come writing.

vii. on saturday i reached 7,700 poems on here. i made myself a gin and tonic to celebrate. i have been writing seriously, almost-every-day, sometimes multiple times a day - for over 10 years. i started this, became this - because i saw someone stand on stage and say something i knew to be poetry.

viii. andrea died today, july 14th, 2025, at the age of 49.

ix. i will never have the words for what they gave me.