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@vbjpoetry
🥜 NO 🥜 NUT 🥜 NOVEMBER 🥜
🔥🔥🔥
LMFAOOOOOO omg
Lmaoo.
lmaooooooooooooooo yooooo
Lmfao
Infographic: Legally Married and Legally Fired , Center for American Progress
The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door Only this, and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, “'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; This it is, and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you” - here I opened wide the door; Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore!” This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!” Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; ‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never - nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Do you ever, Hear a song, And remember me? This happened to me, Just one time. And you know what I did? I put it on repeat.
(via poetbychoice)
One woman delivered the perfect response to Donald Trump’s Twitter meltdown about SNL. A little louder for the people in the back, please.
🙏🏾“Open Letter to the Children I’ve Decided not to Have”
man listen…😩
yoooo this speaks everything i feel
^^ I agree so much
and I cried.
Christopher Michael - "Mr. Bullet" Dope piece from IWPS 2015.
ether/ˈiːθə/ - that shit that makes your soul burn slow
it’s not a good time to be a white battle rapper.
“you came in a room full of niggas and figured you’d rap about prison cuz they’d relate to that”
Talk about a History Lesson!!!
“Everything in my head went quiet.
All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I’m thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. Or the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her.. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. I’d always watch her mouth when she talked- when she talked- when she talked- when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time. That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work.. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking.. And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but.. How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars.. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. How she blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out-…. Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad.. I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on. ”
this makes me cry everytime omg
this gets me every time
On falling in love with a boy at his worst.
OMG this is so beautiful i need start writing again
Nice piece!!
My Affliction of 2013
Some people think that alcoholism is controllable, They look at me dumbfounded when I say it’s not. I have firsthand experience on this affliction. Like dealing hand that’s never been dealt, the Mystery is what intrigues those that live without guilt. I used to drink a 6-pack of beer every night… Bud Light to be precise. The diluted crisp taste wasn’t Foreign to me. I’ve been drinking THIS, since I was 16. Fully aware of the affects it would have on me, the first 2 always went down smooth and the next 3 were consumed cautiously. I had the TV on and needed to watch Midnight Love on BET. Sleep by 1 and up at half past 5. Shit, shower, and shave, then finish the 6th by 5:55. Out the Door by 6 and headed to work. This went on for several months and no one knew what was Wrong with me. I have a way of hiding my pain. I was destructive, defiant, and deliberate with my belligerence. Malicious when I pushed people’s buttons out of countenance. It took a lot out of me to get over that woman. I was removed from the situation–the country to be exact. Deployed overseas to Iraq. No alcohol consumed Until my return. By that time, I was renewed. My demons overcome.
Victor B Johnson All Rights Reserved © 2015