One Nice Bug Per Day
will byers stan first human second
$LAYYYTER
Love Begins
ojovivo
Andulka
No title available
No title available
PR's Tumblrdome
noise dept.
macklin celebrini has autism
★
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
YOU ARE THE REASON
Cosmic Funnies
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
No title available
Three Goblin Art
DEAR READER
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from Venezuela
seen from Argentina
seen from Brazil
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Honduras
seen from Türkiye
seen from Portugal
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
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seen from Slovenia
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@poeticalexploits
Exercise one
That’s deep
I said, looking into the hole in my heart
You aren’t fourteen,
I replied to myself- wondering if I was truly as good at this as I hoped.
Words began to fall like rain
Black ink of fear overflowing
Muck covering my boots.
Repetition
Repetition
Overflowing
Hurricanes
Money
Heart
Head
Home
Family
Repetition
Every step overflowing,
Sticky sweet ink- my dictionary of fear
A never-ending tome of copy+paste
Delay and haste
17년 7월 15일 퀴어문화축제 퍼레이드 참가 Participating in the Korea Queer Culture Festival and its Parade
대한민국의 가장 큰 성소수자 행사인 서울 퀴어문화축제 퍼레이드에 참가했습니다. 한국사회는 성소수자를 표적수사하는 군대도 있고, 퀴어라는 단어는 방송에 나오지도 않아 가시화도 되지 않는 ‘헬조선’입니다. 이런 사회를 향해 한 목소리로 퀴어 인권보호를 외쳤고, 퀴어와 연대하는 페미니스트의 존재를 알렸습니다.
For D.Va participated in Korea’s largest queer event, the Korea Queer Culture Festival and its parade. Korea is a “Hell-Chosun” for queers, with an army that targets sexual minorities for their investigations, and the word ‘Queer’ does not even come out in the news. At the Queer Festival, we shouted out loud to our society that queer rights must be protected, and that there are feminists that band with queers.
custom game servers were a mistake
I think you mean gift.
Typist
The click clack of the keys
as you type on a clean
sheet of newly made
bits and bytes is
a welcome respite
The day was loud-
people too much and
places too many
a world resounding
around me replete
with attacks from
friendly fire
But here- here
we meditate,
you with your
click clack keys
and me with my
mish mash of
drawing/writing/sewing/cooking
my what-to-do-today?
You, my shield,
my roots,
my home,
my love.
Even on days like this
your silence is my sweet repose.
some of my favourite absolutely SICK facts about the trappist-1 exoplanets: - theyre all very close to one another and to their star, so the length of a year on them varies from 1 to 20 DAYS - since they’re so close, the star appears a lot bigger than our sun from earth, and from one planet you could easily see the rest, some would even appear bigger than the moon from earth. you could literally see the surface of another planet with a naked eye!!! - they’re tidally locked to their star like our moon is locked to earth, meaning only one side of a planet ever faces the star, and on the other side it’s always night. the sun never sets or rises on any of the planets - the star is red, so the sunlight is red/orange, meaning if, for example, plants were to grow there, they could be black and that’s just what we know now, imagine how much cool stuff we have yet to discover about the trappist-1 system
Am I supposed to share my life with my followers? I'm not good at this social media thing.... What's up other humans ?
Anxiety I
Earthquakes rack my body-
constant tsunamis
of self-doubt surface
smashing against my
self-consciousness.
The tectonic plates
of my muscles
crash together
rumbling right through
my rhythm-
A daily disruption.
My emergency responders
are mantras and prayers
My Red Cross a Worn Book
A rescue team of crinkled papers,
plastic toys and small rituals
Repeated.
In tornado alley
when asked what
they would do,
after a storm had
ruined everything
the man on TV said
“rebuild”.
And so I do,
every day building walls
and supports,
building small safe spaces
to stay away the sensation
of dread.
A first aid kit for my mind
that makes my mess
manageable.
This is my path,
it is all I can do
to stand and fight.
Anxiety[to be determined]
Earthquakes rack my body-
constant tsunamis
of self doubt surface
smashing against my
self consciousness.
The tectonic plates
of my muscles
crash together
rumbling right through
my rhythm-
A daily disruption.
My emergency responders
are mantras and prayers
My Red Cross a Worn Book
A rescue team or crinkled papers,
plastic toys and small rituals
Repeated.
In tornado alley
when asked what
they would do,
after a storm had
ruined everything
the man on TV said
“rebuild”.
And so I do,
every day building walls
and supports,
building small safe spaces
to stay away the sensation
of dread.
A first aid kit for my mind
that makes my mess
manageable.
This is my path,
it is all I can do
to stand and fight.
@celestial-escapism
——————————
Review : What a lovely write! It was very captivating and I loved your use of analogies here. I especially loved the “rebuild” part. Well done! Keep writing! ❤
☆☆FANART☆☆
Coyote
I am a scavenging animal
An emaciated coyote with bloody flesh
And worn yellow eyes
They say, your life isn’t so sad
Your family isn’t that bad
You aren’t their envy and blame
They always treat you equally and sane
You are just pissy and whinging along
You should just cheer up, listen to a song
if ignorance was currency I could feed my bloated stomach
For every individual seems to give me a deposit
My nails are cracked and brown with dirt and blood
And my eyes sting from the lack of hydration
My poverty my only identity
The moaning of others, overlaps my own crying
My happiness locked away somewhere in my chest
And I can’t ever open it
Seeing others glide along so easily
And every step I take I get weaker and weaker
My friends all but long gone
They didn’t want to deal with a bloody face
So I am wandering for hope
In burning cars and empty trash cans
Wishing that the sky above
Would swallow me whole
And away into another existence
Inconvenient ?
I grew up pretty poor. It was jsut my mother and I alone. She has a condition that meant she always had medical bills- so good food could be hard to find. As a result i grew up with some not very fancy food as staples.
Fast forward a few years and suddenly I am in a relationship with someone who loves good food- but i was so worried the first time i wanted to make one of my staples. I was embarrassed to show her how i loved rice with Vienna sausages and stuff like that. Turns out she loved them and its one of our go to i’m tired meals now...
You Taste Like
When I first fell in love- and I mean like, actually fell in love- it was in the cold north of the united states. I for a while it was unrequited- or maybe it better to say I was put on hold. It was a bad time for both of us, so nothing was happening!. I did my best and every day when I went out and got hit by that cold I was happy because when I got home she was there…and she was warm.
In any case, I Couldn't kiss her- that was a big issue for me, I really like kissing. But I respected her wishes. I wrote this during one of the many times that I was trying to imagine how it would be to kiss her. It was born out of frustration but at the same time the realization that I still loved the connection we shared at that time!
Bonus: we have been dating for five years now :)
Inconvenient
When I pulled out the canned sausages You said you didn't like them. I understood - a poor man’s meal for those who can't farm to table, that TV fable, ripe and crisp. But still I missed the scarce solace from the convenience store- My inconvenient comforts, my dry pantry pancakes, my something-out-of-nothing spices and herbs collected from the yard. My canned delights for hungry nights. And still now- stable job, table full- I miss my days of small and meager, of weak but eager. I said don’t worry I hoped: “Love them like me, love the seed as the flower” A meal for the poor made for my Queen. You said you didn't like them until I made them.
Behind The Ink...
For the first time ever I’m accepting asks that want to get to know the stories/inspiration ‘behind the ink’ of any of my poems.
Anyone else is welcome to join in, let’s see a little bit more of our favourite tumblr poets.
I’ll be accepting asks from now until 19th of February. You have just two days, if you’ve ever read something from me and you’ve wanted to know more, nows your chance! Just send an ask anon or not with the title of the poem, I’ll answer them all.
Fellow poets reblog this if you’re joining in with project ‘Behind the ink’
Tagging some of my faves: @sonador-reveur @katrinnac @poetbitesback @denmysterywoman @definegodliness @sarahmariepardy @spacedust-lester @redleafhaiku @autumnsunshine10 @jonaswpoetry
Anyone is welcome to join :) Anyone is welcome to send an ask :)
I think this is such a great idea! I am totally open to talking about my poems and what was going on in my head when I was writing. Just shoot me ask!
I’m game for this. If you have a favorite poem of mine, send me an ask and I’ll tell you the story behind it.
This is amazing! Yesss
@celestial-escapism
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH
Vows
I was told
“He is perfect- look at him,
roasted coffee of this land,
strong and gentle”
And yet here you are,
beautiful, small,
delicate in my hands,
a daughter of winter.
I was told
“Find a man
who respects your god,
who will bow
and love as you do”
And yet here you are
daughter of Abraham.
You do not bow,
and I would not let you,
my gods are Love
and Love is us.
I was never told
“look into the mirror”
never told
“accept and love”
And yet here I am
loving you like me,
touching you like me,
mirroring each other,
bodies in perfect sync.
I was never told to love you-
and yet, I do.
