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Lydia Wei, “Camille I Adore” [ID in alt text]

#THIS POEM #w #poetry #lydia wei #when love became an act of defiance

Supernatural / Dean and Cas // The End Of Poetry - Ada Limón

#HOO BOY #ive been thinking about this thing for weeks #THIS POEM #thank you kim shout out to kim #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #parallels #web weaving #poetry #castiel #ada limón #supernatural #spn

Decided to illustrate one of my favourite poems, I hope you enjoy it

From ‘I Could Be So Good For You: A Portrait of the North London Working Class’ 📚

#class politics #uk politics #poetry #class war #british culture #not so Great Britain #writers and poets #working class #this poem #real London #working class culture #booksbooksbooks #literature #readersgonnaread #readers on tumblr #class awareness

The wound lies deep, like the ocean floor.

The sin is red, growing paler in death.

#Bleach #Troius reads Bleach #kaien shiba #bonus post because of how much I love this cover #this poem #and the title of the damn volume

People will read one poem that isnt shit prose “s(he) be(lie)eve(d)” and has any other meaning besides enemies to lovers and base their every fucking literary critique on it from that point onwards. Huh

#im talking about that two headed calf poem.#it was good the first two times #maybe even the first ten #but at fucking fifty times seeing it gst reposted and reposted as some new striking art #it makes me want to fucking shoot myself #go read a book. go read a real book instead of scrolling on your phone and waiting for a google docs tiktok poem to show up #i HATE tiktok. officially deciding i hate tiktok #i HATE HATE HATE rupi kaur gabbi hanna fucking poetry. no substance. there is nothing #and im not comparing two headed calf to those poets but i am saying that the people who read those poets are some of the people boggled by #this poem #like i cant like i cant do it anymore

The Second Coming William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

#this poem

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