tumbloetry
it’s like poetry, but on tumblr
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tumbloetry
it’s like poetry, but on tumblr
Messing around with animating some Blowetry. Erin Tily, 2014
30 DAYS OF BLOW-ETRY: DAY THREE
The awfulness of moods is something to be bookmarked. To press your hand against your head and remind yourself that you are here. That bruises surround the forest. How the blackened bloom becomes the cure.
30 DAYS OF BLOW-ETRY: DAY 2
To understand what it means to be within an inch of one’s life. Yes, I can throw this body across your lap and let you see it for yourself. However, several questions remain. For starters: what is the metric conversion factor for the lifeline? Can this sort of math be done in your head? And what must be done with the remainder?
a slide from Blowetry
30 DAYS OF BLOW-ETRY: DAY 1
Dear April,
Today I admitted I was a poet and then cried out APRIL FOOLS!
The last time I got this close to a literary faucet, I nearly drowned.
I spill out of myself without a container. APRIL FOOLS!
I spill out of myself despite the container.
I think this is part of the problem.
When spring comes, everyone is convinced to rebuild.
APRIL FOOLS! Everyone is forced to rebuild.
My experience of pain, after all, has been mostly scaffolding.
As writers, we are given tools to make the necessary repairs.
Jackhammer her plot-holes. Correct the ass-phalt.
It’s sometimes difficult to discern the writers from their tools.
APRIL FOOLS! The structure is pre-constructed for your poetic convenience.
APRIL FOOLS! You cannot separate oneself from a Tool.
I WISH THIS WASN’T A JOKE.
On a night so alone, I walked to the store
To pick up some smokes and make my lungs into stone
I sat right outside taking each hit
Under flickering lights, thought I wanted to hide
Some girls pulled up wearing skirts and heels
they wanted some touch, but I couldn't feel
My face was hollow, my state was numb
absence was leading, and I had to follow
My mouth tasting ash, I killed it and left
drifting in peace, my direction bereft
Down in the gutter, I found me a bottle
it famished my blood and I got swept
in the flood.