Poems by Rex C. Jameson. All poetry of Rex C. Jameson, poet, author, poem.
Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Sweet Seals For You, Always
DEAR READER
YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver

Love Begins

Janaina Medeiros

tannertan36
Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz
trying on a metaphor
Monterey Bay Aquarium
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
🪼
Stranger Things
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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@verwandlung
Poems by Rex C. Jameson. All poetry of Rex C. Jameson, poet, author, poem.
"A Lessening" by David Gate
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Poor Folk (translated by C. J. Hogarth)
Sorry to break it to you but you literally have to face your fears and slaughter them. Otherwise you will live a small life that you do not want. You literally have to view your biggest fears and attack them head on. You have to fall into the abyss to find your way out. The easy path does not exist. There is no get out of jail free card. You have to allow yourself to die a spiritual death over and over again in order to reinvent yourself into the person you are actually supposed to be. And you have to be painfully honest with yourself and the people around you. It’s horrible but it’s truly the only way.
a mary oliver quote that peeled me like a fruit
The Death of Icarus (b.1823-1889) by Alexandre Cabanel
Albert Camus, from a notebook entry featured in Notebooks of Albert Camus, 1935-1942
Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice
Ducklings swimming in the lake / down by the horse field / with the grass dotted in daisies and buttercups / the evening, made still by the water / sunrays of golden hour dancing across the rippling water of their wake / shimmering, shining through their fluffy feathers / the Muscovy mother watches over / as does the Goddess / her figure, her image; / Aphrodite / peaceful / tranquil / beautiful
Sonntag 02.08.2020
Reflecting and reworking 5 years later:
Aphrodite Pandemos, August Pandemia
Through tussock and hummock filled horse field The waddling convoy makes it's arduous journey, Traversing grass desert speckled with daisies, buttercups, hoof prints, And yet, these equine beasts are inconsequential; The greater threat lingers overhead, The winged murder, antithesis of the energy flowing through the lines that carry their weight; Silent menace— Until eruption of feasting caws and rattles of success echo between pylons. The afternoons' trek draws to a close as the survivors meet the oasis' edge, The late summer evening made still by the water of the lake. Glinting through their not-quite-feather fuzz, Golden hour's sunrays dance across the rippling water of their wake. Recollections already faded of the lost kin, Of the black smudges; now mere pegs on the lines that cut across the clouds, yet— Over oblivious heads of the surviving brood, A silent maternal understanding Hanging amongst the midges between Muscovy mother and Goddess— Venus Genetrix, Venus Victrix; Natural balance of nature's duality, Shared witness of procreation, and its eventual, inevitable, expiration. We insects that crawl this planet's surface, With mind perhaps more alike in the naïvité of these bathing young, Attention captured by the time of tearful tranquility brought with the decade's turn; Certainty of life, of death, of health, of sickness, Of the balance between beings— Venus Caelestis, Venus Naturalis; Heavenly, human, momentary acceptance, Of the balance between all things.
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals [ID in alt text]
3. Limbs
Two extra— Listless, limp, lifeless. I thought humans were born with only four limbs? I suppose the definition Doesnt quite fit— Perhaps rather, Extremity? Appendage? Protuberance? How almost like a gall; Despite the lack of hymenoptera They are parasitic in and of themselves— Swollen, aching oak apples.
Reworked from an escapril 2022 attempt, inspired by @sweatermuppet
—Franz Kafka, "The Diaries" (from the travel diaries, 1912)
Glastonbury Tor, Somerset, England.
Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written c. September 1926, featured in Selected Diaries
— James Baldwin, They Can’t Turn Back
Swimming, One Day in August by Mary Oliver
@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks