Stories in Shards @storiesandshards - Tumblr Blog

wovi

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sandra cisneros

wovi

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joy sullivan

kyleblackpaw

i feel like we as a digital society have forgotten the important rules of the internet

Don't feed the trolls

Never give out personal information

Anonymity is the best defense

Don't click suspicious links

Don't click popups and ads

Just because it's written doesn't mean it's true

You are responsible for your own experience

There is porn of everything, act accordingly

havingapoemwithyou

Not This by Olena Kalytiak Davis

borderepisteme-deactivated20260

"Anyone who has ever tried to recount a dream to someone else is in a position to measure the immense gap, the qualitative incommensurability, between the vivid memory of the dream and the dull, impoverished words which are all we can find to convey it: yet this incommensurability, between the particular and the universal, between the vecu and language itself, is one in which we dwell all our lives, and it is from it that all works of literature and culture necessarily emerge."

Fredric Jameson, Imaginary and Symbolic in Lacan

weltenwellen

Joy Sullivan, from “Culpable”, Instructions for Traveling West

by-any-other-name

feeling normal about this one

havingapoemwithyou

Advice by Langston Hughes

mothcub

weltenwellen

Tomatoes Joy Sullivan

apoemaday

Adult Grief

by Louise Glück

Because you were foolish enough to love one place, now you are homeless, an orphan in a succession of shelters. You did not prepare yourself sufficiently. Before your eyes, two people were becoming old; I could have told you two deaths were coming. There has never been a parent kept alive by a child's love.

Now, of course, it's too late -- you were trapped in the romance of fidelity. You kept going back, clinging to two people you hardly recognized after what they'd endured.

If once you could have saved yourself, now that time's past: you were obstinate, pathetically blind to change. Now you have nothing: for you, home is a cemetery. I've seen you press your face against the granite markers -- you are the lichen, trying to grow there. But you will not grow, you will not let yourself obliterate anything.