bluejay1079 - Tumblr blog

[bluejay1079]

glass bottles; sharp seas

is this how it goes, then, do you think

were you always so

an-te-dil-uv-i-an

i thought you were a gentleman

but you were just the flood i didn’t see coming

god warned my neighbour who warned me and i didn’t listen because

don’t they know he’s the one who sent you isn’t this his fault he should have made you better

i don't even know if i regret it

how sad is that

you offered me salt once

it all spilled out of me when

you took back the container but not the salt

a fistful fell into my mouth and

i choked

you taught me how to swim (do you remember)

i was five

or maybe fifty

the label has four letters and that’s all i know

glass-eyed

delicate figure

you cupped my face and cracked the outside

the edges tore tear trails into my paper skin

i got so lost in your eyes that they lost my body

are they looking for it

even now

we go further and further down but do you even know where we’re going

or were you just acting like you weren’t

lost

just heading in some direction to somewhere with someone for something

were you like this to everyone

you live life like everything’s a thunderstorm

electrifying

so you surge to the top of a mountain peak and leap for those grey clouds

you crash down and try again

but when there’s a lightning strike the water doesn’t get hurt

but there will be shards digging into feet begging for attention or mercy just not both

when the people- when they come out again

thinking it’s safe

they don’t blame the water

should they

i would say sorry but i don’t think my tongue knows how to contort itself into that shape anymore (do you understand)

those endless mouthfuls of sand have

permanently cramped

and fixed my jaw

i can say the sor

but it twists on the ry. that’s why i can’t say memory anymore

anniversary. recovery. history. bravery. glory.

i wish i had been able to say pottery

that’s not waterproof

i wish i hadn’t been

because the only one i can still say is misery

and weary

why’s that

did you ever plan on telling me why

did you

[bluejay1079]

Sand becomes glass, fingers in quick-time.

Blank eyes, slow blinks. A motion, emotionless.

Up and up; the downward theoretical.

A soldier trudges in the trenches.

The murderer knocks on your door and offers you tea.

[bluejay1079]

who are you, the world asks

who are you, what are you

why are you

and you

tell them this

you are the rolling of the waves at high-tide, the moon reaching downward

you are the birdsong and the sunrise, the first violins at sunset

you are these green leaves, this grass, soft and curled

these red skies, striped, smoky, bloody, vibrant

the first gold we see; sunlight through leaves

you are the metal reflecting neon lights

you are the sparking of lightning, the wires criss-cross

you are the dancing, the laughing, the world folding inwards on itself

you are humanity; you are nature; you are life breathing life writing life about life

you are a poet; tell them that.

you are a poet.

shriek the word out like the wind in the mountains

wail the word upwards like wolves at the moon

whisper like rustle-leaf trees bound to forests

laugh it like children, the purest of you

poet.

your mouth sings music

your lungs breathe out poetry

your hands curve shapes into letters, letters into language, language into art

you are a poet because you are one

you are a poet because you became one

you are a poet because you have never been anything else

you,

poet,

tell them this.

[bluejay1079]

Land gives way; freefall; your head tips back; you face away from the sun.

A sound tears from your soul -

Your shadow shrieks voiceless

Ringing in your ears, useless but endless and loud

There is the sharp grating of boot on rock

And a hand wraps around your wrist.

You laugh; the wind changes.

An arrowhead was buried in the earth,

Its feathers bleeding red.

The angels gave you wings.

[bluejay1079]

I hold the fragments of what I called reality and you called insanity

I hold them in my palms

Eggshell-white fragments press into my palm

My fingers loosen, and they fall out like grains of sand

Joy dances over my palms and skips away.

[bluejay1079]

Because what are fruits but symbols of greed, and love, and humanity

Blackberry Picking, Seamus Heaney// @noquietrevolution//@vampireapologist // Oranges, Gary Soto // We Are Okay, Nina LaCour // Twitter user super_smasha// @inkskinned

[bluejay1079]

so i wrote a book that comes out soon and having that be real feels like falling down stairs because i wanted this since i was 7 years old so now what do i want after it.

so tell me why today all i care about is the word trundle, that the word trundle exists. of course i have things to do and emails to send and a world of suffering to protect but today my brain won't let me look away from the sheer linguistic improbability of trundle.

i saw a truck doing it. i imagine animals did it first. or people maybe. to trundle comes direct from old english. cows do it on occasion, but more often sheep (in my experience). someone had to name lope and someone had to name slog. the verbs to run and to leap make sense; they are singular and important distinguishers.

but we can bask rather than relax. we can scuttle rather than crawl. sometimes when i move in dance class it is to undulate rather than roll. someone had to name things like sonder and whimsy. of course we had words for tangible things like tree and grass and root. i love those words, i'm eating them.

i don't know the word for this thing. where it's real-now. sometimes i feel it when i am dating someone i actually like-and-love and i realize that is real, i am dating them and it's real that i like-and-love them. sometimes i have this feeling when i have been planning a vacation or an event for weeks-and-months and it finally happens - the feeling this is happening, it's happening right now.

it happens randomly sometimes too. i will be at the carnival or at an ice cream stand or with the last light of summer in my hair and i will feel it again, that sense - i have waited my whole life for this, and im finally experiencing it, and i need to pay attention to it.

but it's real! how amazing! how horribly tragic! it's real. it exists. the moment is here.

i have no idea what to do with it.

[bluejay1079]

hold on a fucking second. delaware is a state?? i thought it was a river? or is the river more important than the state? why don't i know this? (i should mention i don't like in america, i'm just confused)

there is delaware (state) and delaware (river) 

both are equally strange

the state is a tiny little cryptid thing

the rive is a monster that spans new york, pennsylvania, new jersey and delaware. also washington crossed it once and that was like kinda a big deal i guess. like crossing the rubicon in rome.

the state tries to me more important with its “im the first state!!!” bs (seriously its even on the fucking license plates) but we all know. its the river.

[bluejay1079]

There are a lot of fics about the Justice League finding out about Batman's children via a series of circumstances leading to Nightwing joining the League (usually against Batman's will)

and I LOVE this trope, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to imagine a situation where it doesn't happen like that. I want a situation where Nightwing joins the League, but he and Batman play it off well enough that the JL doesn't put them together. They notice that they work well together, sure, and Batman seems to trust Nightwing easier than the other new members, but no one questions it because Nightwing is good.

And the JL reaches a point where it's been months or even years and they still don't know.

Until Nightwing gets hurt. They've seen him hurt before, but he gets hurt. Bleeding out, affected by fear toxin, whatever, the point is, he's in bad shape. And Nightwing - strong, crooked grin, happy facade - screams. He screams for his dad - a word that he never uses, but that doesn't matter now, because he's scared, and he's hurt, and he just wants to go home.

And nobody knows what to do. Every single League member very quickly realizes that they know nothing about this guy. Everyone wonders about Batman because he seems so mysterious, but Nightwing always seemed so open, and it's only in that moment that they realize they have no actual information on him.

But that only last for a split second, because, of course Batman reacts first. He runs to his side and starts to stabilize his injuries while assuring him in a voice that they've never heard before, a voice that is distinctly not his Batman growl, that he's right there and it's all going to be okay.

And Nightwing... well, he stops calling out for his father. And he doesn't stay in the watchtower infirmary after that. When they ask Batman where he took him, he just tells them home.

Nightwing's back a few months later, and that's when they start asking him if he's really Batman's kid, and he just smiles the same crooked grin and says, Of course. You didn't know?

[bluejay1079]

Superman meets Batman for the first time and, because of his superhearing, he can tell that the man’s heart is pounding. Gosh, the poor man must be terrified, after all he does have a rule about no metas. For a human superhero, knowing other people are much stronger must be so scary! So Superman tries his best to seem small and less overwhelming, but Batmans heart rate just keeps going up! Luckily, the man seems to be speaking normally, so maybe its not a big deal? How brave of him, ignoring his fears to help people.

After the Justice League is formed, Clark finds out about Bruce’s contingency plans, and unlike the others, he’s not surprised. He’s already such a paranoid man, but being on a team full of metas, well, Clarks shocked he’s not shaking in his boots. Bruce hides his fear so well! If it wasn’t for his super hearing, he’d never know that Bruce takes a sharp inhale every time he uses his super strength, or that the mans heart starts beating like a million times a minute whenever he enters the room.

Then one day, they’re all in the Watchtower, Bruce drops the pen he was using to write out the plan for their mission, and Clark happily picks it up. As soon as he bends down, Bruce’s heart starts beating rapidly. When he straightens back up, Clarks face is bright red and he can’t meet Bruce’s eye. Is his butt scary?!?!??!

[bluejay1079]

We don’t appreciate the fact that Bruce Wayne is a Kardasian level celebrity enough. Everyone knows him. I want more one shots and crack fic moments where the League (Pre identity reveals) just openly talk about Bruce Wayne in front of Batman.

Just imagine them playing fuck, marry, kill with famous actors and such and throwing Bruce into the mix. And Batman just sits there, silently suffering as he listens to the reasons why Flash and Lantern would marry, fuck, or kill him. He prays they choose kill. They don’t.

[bluejay1079]

We don’t appreciate the fact that Bruce Wayne is a Kardasian level celebrity enough. Everyone knows him. I want more one shots and crack fic moments where the League (Pre identity reveals) just openly talk about Bruce Wayne in front of Batman.

Just imagine them playing fuck, marry, kill with famous actors and such and throwing Bruce into the mix. And Batman just sits there, silently suffering as he listens to the reasons why Flash and Lantern would marry, fuck, or kill him. He prays they choose kill. They don’t.

[bluejay1079]

Do you know what you’re going to do? He asks.

Not yet, She says. I’ll figure it out.

He frowns. You need to figure it out soon.

I want to see the world first, She says.

He pauses.

Let’s go on a road trip.

They drive for four hours, then enter a restaurant for lunch. She watches the chef, the toss of his pan and the steam of his stew. And He watches Her.

Do you want to be a chef? He asks Her.

No, She says. I can’t make it good every try.

They hit a squirrel while driving, when it sprints across the road, and ducks under the car. The squirrel survives, while Her heart breaks. They call a vet clinic, and rush there with the squirrel in a cardboard box. The vet saves it, and She shakes with relief.

Do you want to be a vet? He asks Her.

No, She says. I couldn’t bear it.

They visit an art gallery. She traces the outline of the painting on the glass with her finger, and ducks into every alcove with a glass case. She reads every plaque.

Do you want to be an artist? He asks Her.

No, She says. I don’t have so much to say.

The hotel they book has a new wing under construction. The workers call to each other, one operating a crane and one on the ground and one inside the building and one balancing on unsturdy structures in the air. She watches them curiously.

Do you want to be a construction worker? He asks Her.

No, She says. I couldn’t do that my whole life.

They order room service and relax in their beds. He turns on the TV. A politician is arguing in the Senate about a proposed immigration bill. He’s leaning forward, hands clenched on his podium. She leans in despite herself.

Do you want to be a politician? He asks Her.

No, She says. It’s too much pressure.

When they wake, they drive aimlessly. They pass farms, kilometres of corn and wheat and sugarcane and tomatoes. She watches as they whip past, and wonders about the specks of humanity she sees populating that sea of yellow-green, hunched over and cautious.

Do you want to be a farmer? He asks Her.

No, She says. I don’t have the dedication.

They make their way into a city, and discover that there’s a Google branch here. She pauses, and imagines two billion lines of code, weaving through the cities and looping back to storage. They don’t visit.

Do you want to be a programmer? He asks Her.

No, She says. I can’t wrap my head around it.

There’s a city tour available, so they book a tour guide with a name in the top 100 and a side part and a dress shirt who smiles when he sees them. He shows them old churches and massive company buildings and museums. He shows them a massive mall, and a town square twice the size, and a place where you can sit and watch as the neon lights of the billboards melt into a thousand brightly coloured constellations. His eyes light up as he gestures. He grins when they ask him questions about the city. He is cocooned with love for his subject.

Do you want to be a teacher? He asks Her.

No, She says. I don’t have the passion.

They go home.

Do you know what you’re going to do? He asks Her, when they get back.

Not yet, She says. I’ll figure it out.

Just pick something and try, he says. Change your mind.

Not yet, She says. I’ll figure it out.

[bluejay1079]

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[bluejay1079]

[bluejay1079]

ARGH these newfnagled devices!

I HATE moobers or whatever they're called-

What? What's a 'roomba'?

A cleaning agent? What an awful name for a child!

What is a machine?

Me-chan-i-cal. Interesting. I have a nap for half a century and this is what happens.

What? No, I didn't know about loombas! I meant those obnoxious carriages! You know! The ones where you can't even choose who you get to hold the reins, so you could get a horn-swoggling, pigeon-livered ratbag or a stunning lady, as beautiful as she is wise, and clever as she is radiant, and with as much kindness in her soul as there is volume in her bos-MFDHJF!

(Wipes mouth) You lot are so sensitive. I was giving her a compliment! And speaking of...

Ohohoho! Is that a fair maiden I-

Nevermind, bus stop.

If you would’ve known that that stupid river was the fountain of youth, you never would’ve drank from it. That was 300 years ago. You’re permanently stuck at age 26. The only one you really have left in your life is your horse, who also made the mistake of drinking from it.