blog for spn poetry month (take 2)

bee @pinoruno sideblog for spn poetry month!

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to make sure i'm on the map -

hi! this is bee (pinoruno main blog), recreating my spn poetry month sideblog :) i'll be posting all my poems here for the month of april.

tagging @spnpoetryrenaissance (hope that's okay!) to get the word out! cant wait for the event :)

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spn poetry month - day 29 - goodbyes - NO MORE YOU FOR ME

this was a dean!poem to me but once again go crazy. i feel like it could be a little bit mary too :')

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 24 - elements - Replanting Eden

speedy deancas poem for today’s prompt, with an obvious focus on Earth :) could be both s4 dean/lazarus rising & late seasons/s13 cas

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 21 - apocalypse - YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS

i will be 100% honest i saw the prompt, got the Song stuck in my head, and out came this thing. envisioned deancas but honestly go crazy it’s whoever you want it to be.

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 20 - the secret good spn that lives in your head - BLACKBERRY FIELD OF LOVE

wishing we got more of the windmill/field that dean chose after cas died............................... i think about it every goddamn day

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 19 - azazel’s psychic kids - GOOD OL’ YELLOW EYES

quick thing for ava wilson and sam :)

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - days 16 & 18 - weapons/cycles - FREAK WITH A KNIFE COLLECTION

*puts a spell on you so you think it is 2 days ago and i wrote something and it was on time*

a jo poem for weapons and also cycles!

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 16 - parenthood - I HAD TO BE A MOTHER AND A SON

pretty fucked up that i initially had this slotted for the “childhood” day :/

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 14 - blood - R-E-D spells RED

going crazy w/the deanisms this month ig >:) a bit of stanford-era dean for today

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 12 - americana/life on the road - gas station pie

life got crazy & i missed a few days (mb!!!) but i’m back w a quick poem for life on the road :)

@spnpoetryrenaissance

[pinoruno]

spn poetry month - day 6 - shadows: blood in the backseat

a tribute to anna for today's "shadows" prompt! wanted to explore the angels'-deaths-as-wing-shadows sort of idea, & this odd dissociative-grace thing sort of just. Sprung Forth.

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 5 - faith: but deliver us from evil

chose to give claire a bit of a spotlight for today, tracking her Perspective through the events of 4x20 "the rapture," what happens to her afterward, both on- and off-screen, & how that changes her idea of faith™.

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 4 - grief: a watched clock never spoils

when in a rush return to your roots i guess. here is a very speedy dean-post-despair poem ! emnjoy :)

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 3 - childhood: day four of motel cupboard grocery shopping

a dean poem, because of course it is. length got away from me a little bit. i just think about the marshmallow fluff mac-n-cheese a lot, okay?

@spnpoetryrenaissance

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spn poetry month - day 2 - free will/autonomy: NOTE BEHIND A FLOORBOARD IN A SUBURB IN LAWRENCE, KANSAS

this one's for mary shout out to mary thee mother mary. went a little crazy w the png (transcript below the cut) @spnpoetryrenaissance

NOTE BEHIND A FLOORBOARD IN A SUBURB IN LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Today is January 29th, 1979. I have yet to sleep through the night. I think

I think I have made a mistake. I’ve had this band around my finger for 

four years, now. I put it on every morning and he

he watches me. It feels like a show. It feels like someone replaced the stone

with a screw and nobody noticed, too distracted by the faux-diamond 

glittering just the same in the firelight. Every time I wrap my fingers around

a baby bottle or a stovetop knob the stiff of it wrenches in and oh, my god

I bite my own teeth in smiles to stop myself from screaming. 

We have a baby boy, now, and— well, I should say “I,” actually. I have 

a baby boy, now, and I have yet to stop aching. I hold him like I should 

and I do everything like I should but nothing gets past my skin these days

except the rut-tut-tut turning of that ring. I take it off at night expecting

to see a scar, a mark, a bleed. But it’s just my finger. It’s just my 

Today is May 13th, 1983. I unearthed this from behind my side of the bed

because I have not had a moment alone in any way that mattered 

in four and a half years. I burned dinner, the other day. Put readymades 

on the table with a straight back and he didn’t even notice. My son, 

my oldest, he reaches up more, lately. Stained little hands raised 

to my face instead of the sky. He asked me this morning where his daddy

went, but the baby started crying and I think he forgot that 

I was supposed to answer. I forgot, too, actually. Rushed off with 

red fingertips. Leftover. The nightmares have gotten bad again but 

I’m in bed alone, most nights. That’s not true. Most nights I never make it

to bed, just up and down and up and down and up again. Crib duty. 

Baby duty. I drift off midday when I have a moment, when the baby 

goes down for nap and the oldest is off at a playdate with the little girl

his age who lives down the street. I jerk awake when I think I hear 

the front door open, but I don’t. All I ever remember is flashes of 

yellow and red and roiling gold. Don’t know what to make of it. 

[burned away] Today is November 2nd, 1983 and I am afraid.

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spn poetry month - day 1 - falling: butterfly effect

very brief Cas Poem to kick off the month!

@spnpoetryrenaissance