#savagewords

[teresablogs]

You are capable of achieving the dream that’s been planted in you.

[lexiklecksi]

Echo

Fingers pressed down on piano keys; unbridled emotions released a lingering longing.

The air was filled with vibrations of a song, foreign yet familiar.

Music was pattering eardrums like rain; always falling, never landing.

Sound reverberated from the walls like lost memories, found in the silence between notes.

There was an echo as if space was bending time itself, time that always bullied it.

It created an everlasting present, encapsulated in this musical composition.

It might have been a mere moment, but it will always be remembered by its surroundings.

[writeblrcafe]

Webzine submissions open for writing!

Dear writers on tumblr, pour yourself a drink on the house. We've been asking for editors for our webzine in the last few weeks (you can still sign up here). We are focusing on going into different worlds. Now, we can announce that we are accepting writing submissions for it!

Who can submit writing?

All writers can submit writing to our zine, whether you have already published other works. Or have previously shared other writing pieces on [tumblr] or Archive of our own (or similar platforms). Our editors will pick their favourite pieces for each category based on different criteria, the most important thing is how well the pieces fit our theme Portal to Another World.

What kind of writing can I submit?

We are open to any form of writing! You can submit any form of writing from poetry, prose, flash fiction, a short story, song lyrics or even a non-fiction essay. As long as it fits the theme and is unpublished. Our theme is Portal to Another World. Unpublished in this case means it isn't published in print or online. You can't submit excerpts from your WIPs when they can't be understood outside the context of your WIP.

Will you compensate me?

As much as we would love to pay all contributors, we don't have the funds. We discussed this on our server and decided we want our zine accessible to all readers. Understand this is a passion project, so you will not be compensated for your writing. The finished zine will be shared as a free PDF download with a pay-what-you-want option on our KoFi. The little money we make from the zine will be used to fund future projects of writeblrcafé (e.g. a second zine) and boosts for our Discord server.

Where can I submit my writing?

Just fill in the form below! You can submit your writing as a PDF file. The word limit for prose is 2500 words. The limit for poetry is 50 verses. You can only submit one piece of writing. If your piece of writing is longer, feel free to submit it. We will decide on a case-to-case basis. We hope many of you take this chance to collaborate on our webzine, which will be compiled in a compelling design.

Extended submissions deadline: 15th July

Submissions for artwork will open soon!

Access Google Forms with a personal Google account or Google Workspace account (for business use).

Please reblog this post to spread the word in the writing community!

[wildcuteness]

Time is the currency of life,

Spend it wisely, avoid the strife.

Invest in moments that make your heart sing,

For in the end, joy is the only thing.

[stevenluce]

Broken wrists

Help wanted signs

Softly choking

Flowers screaming

Reading code

Unfamiliar

Lost

Sorting through lumber

W/ one hand

[getcareless]

Triolet Poem #60

As true as love and right as rain, let's hope the stars will light our way. As my feelings are as hot as pain, as true as love, and right as rain. Every loss can be a gain. After the night will come the day, as true as love and right as rain. Let's hope the stars will light our way.

"As True As Love", JEP

[inkandpins]

THE WAITING GAME

I've been diagnosed with a sore lump in my throat a homesickness, a lovesickness.

As the long summer days melt— I still dream of the fading wings of cicadas clinging to the boughs, seeking recognition.

But first, first, first, first— love me. For this month, I gave seventeen years Snouting through the darkness—

enrobed in that second skin [hot and close] of silence, but for the urgent clutch and scramble for Longing.

The city nights will fall quiet again as wrinkled shells drop from the branches in straight lines— are these seed pods? or dead cicadas.

We've been convinced somehow to mature in isolation. To grow alone, sing in droves, die in droves. After seventeen years—

I think I've come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am.

Seated among friends, crying with laughter, I catch myself balancing grief—the weight

that bends the spine, with sturdy celebration. I've been coiling, writhing tight to survive the lengthening nights. The Dream is a guiltless spring.

When is it time? to wriggle out underfoot, depart the frigid dirt-womb and learn lightness. The cicadas sift the loam— knowing what they know.

It is August.

My life is going to change. I feel it.

N.C.Y. Office, August 2024

[sike-n]

A man walks into a bar

And asks the bartender for a drink

Put it in a glass or a human body either way they are one and the same

The man stands before the glass stands on the counter

His hands holds the glass holds his drink

Then the exchange

Mouth open the glass lets go of all that it is

Mouth open the man seeks to forget all that he is

Lets go of the glass

The glass tumbles

He stumbles

The glass falls

The man is down

Glass splinters glitter on the ground

Stars hidden by the man on the moon

Who has fallen off his throne

Not quite responds the bartender

As he sweeps what remains of the glass into a dust pan

And he commands the man to stand back up