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[bloglikeanegyptian]

ive been following a young man from gaza (medo halimy) on instagram since the beginning of the war. he made amazing videos despite being consistently displaced, throughout all the turmoil and throughout the loss of his family members... for a while now he's been vlogging about planting different herbs in his tent near the sea where he was displaced and trying to cook with them, and he uploaded a new video yesterday to show us how his plants were getting along. after that he was killed by an airstrike at the beach where he was sitting with his friend. now i can't stop thinking about all those plants he grew during a genocide for his family to eat. the plants are still alive but he isn't.

[shooshopath]

the gofundme for him and his family is here.

$63,379/$100,000

Donate to Help Medo and his Family Rebuild their Life., organized by Xavier Vergin

Hello there, My name is Mohammad, I go by Medo and I am 19 … Xavier Vergin needs your support for Help Medo and his Family R

[definegodliness]

The will

There is life Outside my epitaphic mind There is life

I disturbed the peace initially To come and seek a conscienceless quiet I thought my shelter desolate green Yet now I’ve been sitting here, perfectly still Life continues all around me

I am drawn outside My corporeal mausoleum by virtue of eyes That long to See Without any Need of interpretation

There is life Outside my epitaphic mind There is life

The longer I see, the more I see; the more I am attuned to simply being

Life Skitters Crawls, and flies

Exemplifying divine purpose Action without doubt or ruinous assumption

Leaf stripped branches turn the arms Of titanic protectors

They say:

All that wants to be, is And, here All that is, wants to be

Life, the will; a deeply-rooted vocation That only man dares tuck away

I nod to the setting sun

I might belong After all

— 11-11-2022, M.A. Tempels ©

[definegodliness]

Home is

Within the deep of devastation, I find mere ruins and arid soil; Nothing to grow, or build upon Here, where home Is Where the heart is; Where the heart is Home.

No place to shelter water, No place to nurture flame:

All that sparks Sparks for immediate nullification Here, where even Dreams cannot turn vision, As imagination; inspiration, Extinguishes At the first sign Of materializing Into the will of worth living.

Once, love lived.

Now, lost, Every receptor and transmitter Attuned to nourishing creation.

Emptiness is.

Look up:

A dark sky wherein stars long to be born, And live longer than an eye’s blink, And be more than a pinprick, Here, where it hurts The most.

— 9-11-2022, M.A. Tempels ©

[fantodsdhrit]

in flight we never mimic the countless echoes of crystalline people lonely

in hotel rooms narrating romances to motley of gods goddesses multitudes of

birds over market in kremenets

their sojourn a haze

a sign of excruciating sand

of grey tibetan refugees fresh with life but drab in fleeting tones sometimes

something falls through and

we can't fathom what

a brief karakoram for our disturbances much desired in this smog dusk

shapeless as a swarm rudimentary

without soiling the direction of

offspring winds without lingering

[fantodsdhrit]

the inadvertent motherland exhumes lunar eclipse—

pieces of ghalib famished—

language diagrams your concealed lips with nothing behind them—

stardust hurts

your knees in autumnal supplication

in flight an agonist attempts

blue heaven in titanium vines— between our starry expanse unlimned

you repeat that sulfur agonist

is me and you murder—

during climax with refined

papercuts my dim convex self— then abandon it later you escort its

rhododendron boron traces up

your rake sensuality glass shelf

[fantodsdhrit]

रेलगाड़ियों में मेरे शब्द दागे जाते हैं

डायमंड स्टोन नोंक याद रख कर अपरिवर्तनीय के रूप में निर्वाण बोझ है हमेशा के लिए

खुशी हडसन के पास बुलेवार्ड अपने तनाव में बह रही है थूक रही है गुलाब के घाव

पर आप सो रही हैं उग्र प्रौद्योगिकी

और फटी हुई शहतूत सिल्क साड़ी पहने

[fantodsdhrit]

my words are fired in trains

nirvana is forever burdened as irrevocable by remembering diamond stone point

pleasure boulevard near hudson flowing in its tension spitting rose wounds

while you sleep furious technology

wearing a torn mulberry silk saree

[fantodsdhrit]

all my villanelles now jeer in manacles with so much effort for your happiness

pursuit like we name every question after gardens of babylon your inktouch

incense bangled water wrists

a hiss of nightdress

and the elephant is smoke

come look how everything bumps into my face and passes through in flight

install a phrase or two

dissect slant snow between

your underarm and an ajar

dissertation that posits divulgence of soul clad in mahogany leather interior

you remain the one

and only one

with the least to lose the one who drinks brilliance of horseshoe

[fantodsdhrit]

you were told straightaway— that i can't fathom—what you

are thinking and you found both of those things—jarring

and a bit insulting—

but you agreed that you

often had no clue about

what you were thinking—and you desired the congruence—

and harmony of when someone understood you instead of

feeling this way and now—

you wonder if that person

who found your ears tiny

is doing well but you casually— brush it aside as sentimental

and manage to extricate—your self from the expectations of

self—

[moonjunesoon-deactivated2023022]

the query, the dark, birchwood, an entity, what’s unknown, how i loved you, i laughed like i was a middle schooler, your eyes dark and unharnessed, the horizon hopping from my empty lap to yours, please don’t leave if i was there enough, it’s snowing in lake michigan or it’s not, empty your pockets like someone with a gun is asking, monster finds you in cabrini green, sweet potato casserole, baby, don’t look-

[infinitesplinters]

Tautology

Mortal man, handcuffed as when the bright deer gathers on a rocky ridge, when this small possum gathered into my chest shivering and afraid full of thousands of electric shocks like disaster & coal mines but the money is fat and full of perfumed smiles like the American textbooks I once rolled into joints because I could. Let me down only when you have decided not to leave. I will hide by the window and wonder how it is your taillights gleaming so perfectly through the rain splattered glass, the dog licking itself in the corner, vegetables rotting in the broken refrigerator, and miles to go before the respite given to all of us unlucky enough to see it as it is or at least think we do.

[infinitesplinters]

Smoke Signals

Back out, back from the down out horoscopes run the terror, the timid of teaming like this, the moon on flightless, a memory of how I couldn't know how blind this peacock looks, into the preening, a horror for liking, into images soft and round that echo like pigs flopping in the quiet snow. Wasn't low, wasn't long, in every song that is sung is your face. Forever gave us a fervor for this freaking, the lollipop lies on the gravel stones waiting on someone. Territory peels back, an orange peel looks like sorrow, the hint of fall and lemon zest that's burned from too much stealing looks & sown up tighter than the final cut. Perfect in any purchase the life of the lifeless I can't stop this final act of how to save no one but myself with my own lungs at last in plastic wrap the pulling off is at an end for every one of them moves everyone says SOS in the end zone

[infinitesplinters]

Laminated Dream

We were cornered outside. The heaven-sent walls, your eyes on the fallen leaves, bank account monitoring, kept clean under the bright cold country sky. Shiny, like many coins, having little value but token vestiges of the system: an exchange of pleasantries and the hand rubbing from lack of gloves. When I'm not myself, I look through the glasses. Tooth by tooth, I can try to lay these names down. Apart of the earth, faded yet pulsing, the convert stabbed into syncope. Many noises will make our hair stand on end. None death-proof, nor life-proof, but if given the chance invincible in the love for mere shimmering. Looking out on a sweet sign of something to swear to. The foam gathers around our chests, the eddy whirls past each of the feet. The sun rises in time.

[rebootera]

im still crying

[firstfullmoon]

Andrea Cohen, from “Isn’t True Love Wonderful?” [ID in ALT]

[moon1ike]

Herman Hesse, from “Steppenwolf” // art(cropped) by Evan M. Cohen // Mary Oliver, Long Life : Essays and Other Writings // art by Beya Rebaï // Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet // art by María Medem

[awesomehoggirl]

Stumbles out of google docs covered in blood

[fluffygif]

Fantastic art

[j8kethewizz]