Statistics
We looked inside some of the posts by lrised and here's what we found interesting.
Average Info
Notes Per Post
869K
Likes Per Post
392K
Reblog Per Post
477K
Reply Per Post
385
Time Between Posts
2 days
Number of Posts By Type
Text
16
Photo
1
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
1,644 Tumblr posts in 1 second.
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me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit
mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters
me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU
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Dragon like cloud over Mount Fuji at sunrise. By touyoui, Nov 2024.
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reminder to leave a dent in your pillow for the cat
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Drunk
Suddenly the rain is hilarious. The moon wobbles in the dusk.
What a laugh. Unseen frogs belch in the damp grass.
The strange perfumes of darkening trees. Cheap red wine
and the whole world a mouth. Give me a double, a kiss.
– Carol Ann Duffy
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Collector
You are the white apron of the baker, And the marsh birds suddenly in flight… —Billy Collins
You are the white apron of the baker And the marsh birds suddenly in flight Fat lipped babe, you lie and you chafe You overstay, you permeate
You fancy yourself a preacher Address me, then Spew your gospel, Your magnum opus I hear it everywhere.
If this is your truth Your narrator is a liar Your crib I still remember The claw and the burr We only hurt each other
All this terrible noise What do I do, what do I do Else to adore you? My pantheon, your panoply— And we are just odd things
#litany#bylrised#collector#original poetry#I also happen to be the shooting star#the evening paper blowing down an alley#and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.#billy collins
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Grape Cut
And—gingerly now— I kneel before you, nursing a small mad hope. I try to catalogue the softness, how i should like to believe in tenderness! Instead, a shriek caught in marble— she who was a god, now so bleak in marble playable bodies, and we are voyeurs watching lovers peak in marble.
At every turn I hold it towards you, drooling in the sun where the air smells of just-before rain— this is the lament of a city. Here, a time-honored witticism: “Standing here strictly forbidden.” And we lie, guests unbidden myth baby, bedlam child blood resigning from a body forbidden.
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