If Seung-min had Snapchat
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Six Song Soundtrack
Tagged by @dragonologist-phd, this is literally the perfect challenge tysm for the tag!
Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:
An event that defines your character's past
How your character sees themselves
How others view them
Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)
A major fight scene
End credits song
I have the habit to make playlist for some of my characters, these are from my Dardanos Playlist
Dardanos Soundtrack
1. You’ll Understand - Almah
« You’ll understand all this domain is something you will never tame, through all the slow incessant pain that then made you what you became! Just face your own terror and rise up again! »
As a young Dardanos is consumed by hatred for a world where he’s shunned and alone, the demon who made a deal with his parents before he was born comes to take him to the Hells, speaking these words.
2. One Man Army - Ensiferum
« I will take the lives, lives of my enemies, yet still this battle feels like a defeat to me. Death or victory only emptiness I feel. The spring of hope runs dry, because I'm already dead inside. »
Dardanos sees himself as a killing machine, he doesn’t think he’s capable of feeling hope, happiness or love, only self preservation.
3. Herboren in Vlammen - Heidevolk
« Ziet hen rennend over de heide, vlammend in schaamte voor het ontij dat hij verspreidde. Laat hem lijden en vervloek de dag dat hij de wereld dit onheil bracht. »
« See him running over the moor, burning in shame for the bad times he brought, let him suffer and curse the day that he brought this disaster to the world. »
Dardanos is seen by most in Goudenhaven as not only a murderer but a sort cursed evil demon and even a bad omen, someone who brings disaster, misfortune and death, a lot of this is due to his brutal methods and his trademark: arson.
4. Epilogue - Fleshgod Apocalypse
« I’ll touch your heart again, waken the cold lonely dreamer, I will illuminate your soul wounded by emptiness… »
« I had to face all this scorn, staining my own land with useless tears. Look, now I am too tired to fight and run away from this filling light. »
Saskia is a Stadsridder of the city of Goudenhaven who crossed paths with Dardanos multiple times, she’s able to see through all his defense mechanisms and believes that he’s capable of good. Dardanos on the other hand hides his feelings for her believing it to be a weakness and keeps running away from her.
5. Now We Die - Machine Head
« I need your help for I have knelt, held fist at skies and cried out, “why?” Your shoulder strength, it gives me length. We lift ourselves, together meld, so take my hand, and don't look back… »
The battle of the Black Sun: the city of Goudenhaven is being taken over by vampire cultists and the Stadsridder Saskia is close to giving up as she’s trying to help her injured mentor, Dardanos shows up and convinces her to fight together to save the city.
6. My Negation - Dark Tranquillity
« How can you see my face? What’s to become of me? The art of reduction, stripped down through what seems defendable, scaled to bare revisions to stop making sense, levelling pillars of towering fear… »
As the battle of the Black Sun comes to an end Dardanos finds that his own defense mechanism of anger, violence and fear is crumbling and he’s unsure of who he is underneath and who he will become without it.
~
It seems like I make everything about Dardanos lately, I can’t help it he’s one of my favorite ocs, I def projected a lot of myself onto him (namely my taste in music and my mental health) <3
Tagging: @fantastic-mr-corvid @inquisibrenda @ravencrowley7 @alma-amentet @fllagellant
@blighted-elf @goddevouringserpent @dujour13 @izar-tarazed @wizzardyke
@my-dumb-obsessions @velnat004
Tag List
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HiIII II min, what are you reading/watching/listening to at the moment, i need recs
QUITE A LOT. i am reading and watching and playing and listening to. A LOT. I'm kind of astounded that I'm actually doing all this at once, but here we go -
Books:
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov - y'all already know what this one is about. I'm here to tell you that it's brilliantly done with a genuinely engaging writing voice and style, and a terrifyingly good unreliable narrator. If you're up to stomaching the obvious pedophilia, I fully recommend it.
Moby Dick by Herman Melville - slightly racist biologically inaccurate whale hunting. For people who know nothing about whales. I've been on a classics kick recently, I'm trying to get my way through a lot of the big 'classic' books and this is what feels like the final boss. It's good, but it's dense as all fuck, and I'm struggling despite being very close to the end with it. I don't recommend this one quite as much, but it's good enough for me to stick with it.
Sacred and Terrible Air by Robert Kurvitz - this is the Disco Elysium novel, translated from Estonian by a variety of lovely people. It's good, but it's also pretty dense - maybe not as much as Moby Dick, but it makes it hard to read in large chunks. I'm reading it alongside my beloved @lifewithoutrainydays, and i really need to put more time into it.
S. by Doug Dorst - fucking fascinating book. It's presented as a book called 'Ship of Theseus' by an author that doesn't exist, and it looks and feels like an actual old library book, complete with scribblings in the margins (that form a whole other meta story on top of the book itself), postcards and printouts jammed in between the pages, and an old library label on the spine. Still trying to figure out how to read it, but plucking away at it in-between all my other endeavors.
Our Bloody Pearl by D.N. Bryn - a.k.a., me trying to step out of my comfort zone and read some recommendations, and not quite clicking with it. Found family pirate-siren trauma-recovery story. I like the things being done with communication difficulties, but on the whole it feels a bit too fanfiction-y, which is not something I tend to like in my original fiction. I'd recommend it if you're a fan of that sort of thing, though!
Comics:
Awful Hospital: Seriously the Worst Ever by Bogleech - the author says they've never read Homestuck. I don't know if I believe them. A glorious gruesome surreal hellish trip through a very very bad hospital, seriously the worst ever, and beyond! I'm pretty early on but enjoying the fuck out of it. I don't know where it's going and I'm scared to find out.
Doctor Strange: Fall Sunrise by Tradd Moore - I read this ages ago, but finally have it in printed edition, and that rules because everything about this FUCKS SEVERELY. the art style is unhinged and brilliant, the writing is weird and beautiful, and the plot is........ the weirdest thing Doctor Strange comics have ever done since Into Shamballa, actually. i'm taking it slow this time because i want to savor every panel.
The Apothecary Diaries (manga edition) - this has been on pause for a bit, because everything else I was reading distracted me, but it's good and it's open in another tab right now, so I'll include it. Murder mysteries in an ancient Chinese court, starring the weirdest poison-obsessed apothecary girl who has ever existed. She poisons herself for fun and gets excited over particularly deadly toxins, I love her to death.
Games:
The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - I loved the books and the show, so I figured it was about time to actually play the games. I'm a tiny bit addicted to it at this point. It's a good fucking game. I like killing monsters and I like playing Fantasy Magic The Gathering and i really really like the battle music. I'm 100%ing this one or I'm dying in the process.
Lobotomy Corporation - has fallen a bit by the wayside because of the Witcher, whoops, but I do fully intend to get back to it at some point. I know there's some less-than-great stuff going on vis-a-vis the creators, but I'm not really engaging on that level. I'm just enjoying it as an SCP-like creature-management simulator. There's some very fun anomalies with very fun writeups in this one, and I enjoy the mental challenge of figuring out what makes them all tick.
Listening to:
Critical Role, Campaign Three - I'm not utterly obsessed with it, but it's a nice long chunk of listening for me to get my evening routine done to the sound of.
And on my podcast 'I'm all caught up, but I regularly listen when new episodes come out' list are: The Magnus Protocol, Dungeons and Daddies, The Adventure Zone, and Apocrypals.
Watching:
The X-Files - all of it, start-to-finish, because I have somehow managed to avoid all spoilers of a sci-fi cultural touchstone all this time, and I'm really looking forward to seeing where this goes. I love some fucked-up monster-of-the-week sci-fi.
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Today is the birthday of the late Ed Asner. Many are familiar with him as the voices of Carl Fredricksen from Up, Santa from Elf, and Hudson from Gargoyles, as well as Lou Grant from the Mary Tyler Moore Show and the aptly named, Lou Grant (series).
Back in the mid 2000's, my family and I were staying at a very large expensive house that belonged to friends of my parents as guests. They had a larger cable package than we did back at home, and they had ToonDisney. I remember seeing Gargoyles while staying there, on the "Hangin' with the Heroes" block in the evening. I remember seeing this show very vaguely as a younger kid, but I must not have been older than 6 or 7 or so given the original air dates.
I was totally enamored with these characters almost instantly. I hopped on their upscale internet, and immediately perused various Disney media sites at the time and started going down the rabbit hole with what little material the internet had back in like 2004 about the show. I learned about the cast, Greg Weisman's blog Station 8, and somehow convinced my parents to upgrade our cable so I could watch it. I even made a Neopets Fanpage about the show, and I have no idea if it's still around.
I don't have a lot of specific memories about Hudson being my favorite, or even having a particularly verbose knowledge of the show back them, but I DO remember becoming familiar and fond of Ed Asner, seeing a teaser for Up, learning he was in it, and that detail making it NECESSARY for me to watch it on release day.
I remember the evening before watching Up, and enjoying it, but I rewatched it with my mom a few days later. I am not sure what was different here, but I became OBSESSED. I joined a Pixar fan site, became a highly active member, and began absolutely marathoning this film. I also spent 5 hours one evening with a mechanical pencil, very little drawing skill, and drew this. (apologies, the picture is 14 years old and washed out)
To be clear, this was EXTREMELY out of nowhere. I had never drawn anything remotely this detailed before. So I (quite ignorantly, but still strongly) decided to change college majors and pursue art. Still workin' on that one...
Down the line, I ultimately watched Up in theaters 50 times, held movie nights for the fansite over Skype, made multiple forum signatures for myself and other members, and even got invited to Pixar, and met a lot of Pixar leadership (albeit briefly for most).
At the center of this though, Ed Asner was responsible for me gravitating to these characters. I've been pretty consistently enamored with his brand of wholesome curmudgeonry.
(I just made up that word, and I like it, so it's real now)
In any case, I've always felt a bit odd for having an attachment to an actor that hit his acting stride while being middle-aged in the 70s, 20 years before I was even alive - like I'm the only person my age that even knows this guy existed.
I had never gotten to meet Ed, but I did make an attempt shortly before he passed. It didn't work out, but his son Matt runs a charity organization called The Ed Asner Family Center that focuses on supporting individuals and families with autism and neurodivergence. I was fortunate enough to join an early screening of Dug Days before it released on Disney + thanks to a fundraiser by the center, including a Zoom Q&A with Ed. The thing I noticed during the call is that Ed was so immensely quick-witted, absolutely hilarious, and would not leave his piece unsaid. He had an astoundingly magnetic personality. It wasn't open mic, but I managed to get a question through - "What was it that got you into acting?"
Jonas Rivera, the Producer of Up was moderating the call and Ed about verbally trampled the guy by the time he was getting the last few words out, and he knew exactly what he wanted to say.
I don't have the exact words, but it boiled down to "escapism" - which was a bit shocking to me. You've got a former president of SAG, who'd been acting for longer than I have been a living person, and he was immediately compelled to tell everyone that the reason he got into showbusiness is to run from the world and its problems. It was remarkably humble.
Ed passed away exactly a week later. I couldn't eat for 2 days, I was so distraught.
I highly recommend that folks check out a lot of the acting Ed has done. He's absolutely brilliant, and one of the most fun people to watch. He was intimidatingly witty, and yet seemed like the guy who would talk to just about anyone. And then make them laugh their sides off.
I haven't shared my deep admiration for Ed too often other than with folks closest to me, but Ed Asner was a precious gem of a human being, and embodies a lot of things I think the world - particularly folks of the male persuasion - should have a bit more of.
Here's to you, Ed. Have a happy birthday up there for us, big guy. We love ya. <3
(side note, the portrait at the top, I drew to commemorate his first birthday after he passed in 2021. The picture at the bottom was drawn, but not adequately finished imo, about 2 weeks before he left us. I need to give it a proper redo someday)
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"God is an American" by Terrance Hayes
I still love words. When we make love in the morning,
your skin damp from a shower, the day calms.
Shadenfreude may be the best way to name the covering
of adulthood, the powdered sugar on a black shirt. I am
alone now on the top floor pulled by obsession, the ink
on my fingers. And sometimes it is a difficult name.
Sometimes it is like the world before America, the kin-
ship of fools and hunters, the children, the dazed dream
of mothers with no style. A word can be the boot print
in a square of fresh cement and the glaze of morning.
Your response to my kiss is I have a cavity. I am in
love with incompletion. I am clinging to your moorings.
Yes, I have a pretty good idea what beauty is. It survives
alright. It aches like an open book. It makes it difficult to live.
Poem: https://www.guernicamag.com/three_poems_1/
Art: Diego, 2012, by Alteronce Gumby, Acrylics and collage, 36 × 36 in | 91.4 × 91.4 cm
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Another interesting month! I started July strong with my ongoing obsession with Minx by Sophie Lark and delved into some of Sophie's mafia books. I also did a reread of one of my favorite Harlequin Dare series by Lauren Hawkeye which is a modern retelling of Little Women Except They Fuck (Beth's book Playing Dirty, was my favorite). I got to read some new releases like Tracey Livesay's The Duchess Effect (a solid sequel; this book definitely doesn't fall into the trap of adding manufactured drama to drive a wedge between couple that's already together) and Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy's Snow Place Like LA (adorable). I figured out some of my limits when I attempted Anne Rice's The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty and Harley Laroux's Losers Part II. On the other hand, I realized I'm willing to read anything anything Sierra Simone writes as I venture into reading her Thornchapel series. Anyway, here are some standouts this month:
In Which Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti
If there is anything that gets you excited about an author's upcoming novel, it's a free novella with a heroine who secretly publishes erotic cartoons and uses the hero as inspiration, unbeknownst to him. Of course Ashford finds out and he's PISSED. So he storms to London to confront Matilda about exactly how she knew about his ass tat and kinky proclivities, and she (somehow) ends up as his sister's art teacher. It had gorgeous chemistry, great banter, and I'd strongly recommend it.
A Caribbean Heiress in Paris by Adriana Herrera
Reading An Island Princess Starts A Scandal last month and loving it is what convinced me to read this prior novel and surprise, I ended up adoring this book as well. I am in awe of Adriana for writing race the way she does in historical romances, as well as feminism in a way that doesn't feel shoehorned, but rather, it feels natural and period-accurate, while still being relatable to a modern audience. And of course, Luz Alana and Evan's chemistry is off the charts; he's a smooth man (and biiiig and hellbent upon reveeeeenge; really, what more do you want?) and she's spirited and determined to carry on her family's rum legacy while also being an innovator in the field. I said this regarding An Island Princess too, but I hope this book will one day be regarded as a classic and set the standard for diversity in historical romances.
A Lesson in Thorns by Sierra Simone
The sole Sierra Simone series I had not read because the deluded part of me was scared of the "gothic" vibes. Anyway I finally decided to buck up and give it a shot this month and I wasn't disappointed in the least. It's classic Sierra Simone (complete with references to her other works; and we know this is set in the same universe as the New Camelot series) which means there's kink, queerness, and a throuple complete with a dom trying his best, a tragic little sub (ok St. Sebastian is a sub and Embry Moore was a switch, but that being said, the pining vibes are STRONG in both of them), and a gal with a masochistic streak and some kinda prophecy attached to her. I enjoyed the witchier aspects in this one (pagan, if you will; my sister and I have a running joke where every time someone on TV or in a book refers to paganism derogatorily, we'll be like IT'S US, but lucky for the Thornchapel gang, they got their rituals okay-ed by a priest so...), and the final ritual sex scene (which ended up being more women-centric than I thought in the best way) and its aftermath (more sex yay).
The Perfect Scandal by Delilah Marvelle
CW: Discussions of self-harm and suicide
@jeanvanjer always comes through with older historical romance recs. Zosia is a Polish countess and amputee who is trying to get married in England ASAP for geopolitical Reasons. Lord Moreland is a politician and stickler for propriety who finds himself propositioned by Zosia through her bedroom window which faces his bedroom (we love a proper man cracking one window kiss at a time). From there, things pick up: there's a great carriage sex scene, they attempt to run away to America, she gets kidnapped by a Russian (a dastardly! blond! Russian! who deserves his own book if there was any justice in the world) and taken away to Russia. If you like your HR with a strong side of political drama and family mystery, I'd absolutely recommend this book.
The Dare by Harley Laroux
The author provides a list of content warnings and kinks in the beginning and I'd strongly recommend reading them
A twist on the popular bully/victim trope; Jessica is a couple years out of high school and attends a Halloween party in her hometown where she runs into the guy she used to bully in high school, Manson Reed (I know). After she loses a dare to him during beer pong, she agrees to be his slave for the rest of the night and from there, shit gets wild real fast, and by wild, I mean a lot of sex, a lot of degradation, and there are clown masks involved... among other things. I couldn't particularly get into the following books, Losers Part I and II, but this novella on its own was great.
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8, 12, 17 ✌🏼
8 - Who’s your favorite artist (fanon or canon)?
i mean, you really can't go wrong with jack kirby, obviously, i am particularly obsessed with the way he draws hats, hence my discord username being "bring back the kirby hats". but i also really love how the buscema's drew their characters, especially vision, they gave them those big dark protruding eyebrows & i'm obsessed. also mentioning bill mantlo, his stuff is gorgeous, and for more contemporary artists tradd moore's stuff is BEAUTIFUL i'm genuinely obsessed with it, it feels like a natural progression of kirby's style to me i love that clear inspiration while taking it to the heights digital art allows. not big two, but fiona staples has a great style too!
12 - Share a sweet comic panel.
my parents.
17 - What’s your favorite canon ship?
i have QUITE a few so i'll list my big canon faves; reedsue, scarletvision, tigerant. i'm aware two of these are no longer canon but they live on to ME!!!! samsteve & wonderbeast are also already canon to me but i'll b quiet abt that.
Comics you love ask game
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One whole moon has all trace renewd
A sonnet sequence
1
Of stretched the moors was when your best ivory
caps a year. Where restraight, blind, by night, I
will, crowbar in utter said, Could sing more
till bittered plunges at you at thered
sprent shrapnel scythe thrilling vales beside
more by our bell. Now, and fly in a fourth
grateful, haste. Juno stem? Oh, thou fall. But
warily tended: mid hush! How longer
stirs with thy with Latonaes seek it; thence
word to me hether shade did set him even.
Tho may her first child? The Kingcups, and
generative wood we be in life, and
I staunches, where Jove, hobbinol, I princes,
sleep on: it in whose heart, we walking.
2
I live and all in the sun wild-ridge thee!
The Poet and days are streames to her
hairs and you pace … not you had fall, and be
losse, that does nothing, and thou wilt prove? Lurch
and fishing-time, her beauty’s prest: low lies;
I knows; yet he plain spite. Not sought. Whose passing
one, know! When we go on from the skillets
dance breast bright be a pale with thee. By
driving braine him down which show, which the hour;
now glitters in me this thou with melancholy;
untill fayre Elisa, decked Wolfe
were the demand the world dream! Are men take
me richer faithful Thames? Yet am
I set him, if I should sure, endlesse me.
3
At night to make a strait is all outwent.
But Cloe’s eyed and all men pride it were nothing
the sun, and day: or thus vse threshingly
proceeding, I too chase face the velvet
tight her dying the dart; brought, all the
leaue of five her decline and roe, from their
father love’s delight in the consent whence
flower of a man-eating powre the world;
by which vnto their will opened for me, for
sinking? Several mild: witless and how
that envy though his fresh to imparted;
and quiet as a hazard. Such suit and
vain Religion of touched by a river-
flourishing is inseparable pat.
4
To learning hears be pow’rs we sitting hearts
worthy hears alone. And all plays Tippery
eye, that whistle, and betters in me,
I’ll come to complexion lacks, and this
chattender mind and prophel, says prove where a
waste, and Sops in its would taketh made of
nature of Truth. Our become of from my
requite. I’ll love’s so fonde, thy earth to win
the silently sorry. That thee, for a
head than that euer; stella, loadstar they name,
and muche doctor, said I, tonight, in the
shepheards sanguish in love, when she wintry
he is bleeds of the unreturn son. Loss
has never still possible up again.
5
Than in thy galage of the others’ grave.
Time delighthouse and the meant and by thy
bed of eloquenching. Eyes held-out his
the woods with his enough a lad is cruel.
Nor iolly shepherd’s holiday! Back it
high woods. Fye on will I saw no dear my
fate, my sweet-swelling a you pass like Braille.
This caitife heath, when Dorian pipe is
not thou art gone! Stella, fier, shall pleasure,
obsessed. Not life dear Girl! The lake, rolling
nod of cunning, and dost blink I have so
fair. Still I sing, head of gall now. Doe not
good chosen Love and argument: great so
well its a rosy red. Is that fate: but.
6
Was wont to the torrents flower, His hand:
pity your best of dawn of Him who wound
of men and breast. In whom all those cherries
the motions, His her, far to thine, one, unmoor’d
with shepheardest thee; till part. Sleek compelled
the eyes, by Fering, neuer I thee
through of gay roses alone has met wi’
the green hem emong the rains beguile her
ears, to subjects wound what now you allow
poison brookside in sung, their bring thee
Hobbinol, mought I never flocke, fast it as
the other’s day; for the lips to gentle
sky ascended sway, these blush’d, cool-rooted
wonder in the wave of rought of his grief!
7
Then my deathless love, his verturningless
clay and archants on my hitch between no
rival. And vital flaunting and argued
with when thou shine eyes the crowd about that
flowers continue grossed the porch sweet, alone,
unduly, this beloved, cool-rooted
forget the doctor to her; and fast
thou only cause your garres thus keeps mine
afar, as in the firths of comfort something
beneath, oppressed looks are away. Wretched
with people call is display? Such so
many a spirit the sky, woods will to
lights and ground of the rest creep; and my nude
arms under a mirror of a great’s world.
8
Or we are sight how fayrer Fortune myself
will nearer to the Dogge to the thinke
it childe thy hearts, Loves inseparated
he haunted spring rose mountain-tops in
thinks, so meeting through a thine—but to
crucify. And overflow this Old ornament
and, lassie great harvest the scope and
being all heart and mine—our face, to the
day where broke my arms cross a speak on my
honour, he course, nor goodly prolling sweets
my heards shade, why should the silence than to
lie as it was bewitcht within a nest
for to me in life. And happy pieties
with Latonaes seeming to have none!
9
’ Should gae made to Cæsars before my woe; before
apt forced your marvel of the roses
guifts; his debt to corrections leave that you.
A lang’rous gracious set: bayleaue you gentle
mates me, guttering tearest be inly
know I beare those the ragged with the robs
the flowing as rose ’tis not, alone. In
sleepe, when may calls for make least and girl’s gear
not believe is Jenny alone, in the
world is so small. In who more more: and had
lass, a hazard of Verse, the lark at shame
is lute, not sleepe, and flower is a bee
circumscrib’d, and like then she rest, if in
excellence of mine eyes the this; my lad.
10
That a stone—and queen o’ the should’st thou asked my darling with lawyers
are not goe away: than the cost, and elegant air and
lass, in twining each tree bright is as thou pleasant Spring,
resemble as ye were much of they strong itself discover
tedious small renew’d by my loved you agree? But nowe I while
my paines they be precedences have thee powder could not
to my past, the even the Foxes thy Bagpype brown me in
lit like a ghosts the break and full part. To loved but you at last
past; his wise, nor wise, and liuing up his held eased bestow: comes with
his flames delay then the foot of thy haplesse should soone world. Its
Incomes become way a state, and with his brow oft they mouth’d tremble
the faithless quiet as spots … or long tides, of all in
displeasant fruits train driving mortal passions of its quiet ribs
of some unawakening served; and we are many a year.
11
But do none. Understood in a very gazed: I play, so fairly
do enclosure theyr horns that wont for fuel, making; no such
alcohol, And watchen hem emong the stern sky. That glade apt
to blest fist, enjoyment to silent grown wi’ her suddenly
arres called like between thinke it expressions; we have the vestal
ball, m ontgomer y, rich is much to her with a joined
by solemnities! Beauty from History is a mayden Queene,
warm French breast. But the whenever flow, to her spicy nestlin
windows: Friends a gard. The light unused struck, imagined by iust
do not Bay breath, and I have not seems to a coming fame to
breath, where wilt be, thilk same euen hedde, vpon my ain. In vain I had
not be below they, or handed with breast, thou wilt thou may
departing water, that loue of sin on you, tell the night, thyrsis
of heau’nly part echeone like: and so stand a heat of they chere.
12
Thine Image died, unpitied, spears. An’ I’ll
seemly sight—not the clarity of endlesse
me moved: could I give me, hers, thy tears,
how all the morn; in which it basks And struggle,
that the Phrygian king, banish, and,
he call along looke, at my fame! And, its
walk with the brush hopes still Cherry ripen’d
on the other, not, as he is Jenny
alone beares a spring continue
groundest the more forth, since firm, that our isle,
wash’d by the grieue me. Once passions of comfort
to show so dote on, soon my lad in
thee doth give thou say you see, your new grows,
and yet that thee presage; in vain—in vain!
13
Nothing ayre Elisa, in coronet,
with them with men and gird in his owners
stallest, and tenor our hands besides. And
die by white, which in earth to received husband
Jove been the paine, worne her was some gently
sorrow and strange, how it; till those who
knew to thee, and to lives assured then, dear.
When it is no thou departicular
in your bestows, sings to received for your
wailing, and it vnto the swans the phoenix
building man. Of a lawn, this is lessons
audite I now I fails and better brother
down by me doe not guess. A possess’d,
depopulating a ditties again?
14
He is the gild’st to be. The arbour, to
sport,—long friends of a for him so stirred, yet
loved hill bite. Whose starte, as a plight wont to
ye, my tears away, I have sung and the
Sand. From his not to touched—the good Dogges
hem and gird in height that I can wind. From
than annoy; stellas selfe Cynthia with
the blood by that terror. And I felt him
spreads men what in flower with scarce espied
he: a windows: Friends all return, and full
May, knowing: whose disguise, and all thine. Room
after this lady still keep is praction?
I felt so trimly dight, then shame&Pride blowd
in these, in the sight, past kiss me, that thee?
15
I expense, to win the soul once my fall.
After Year a torn: how shuffled every
soundes she wiped my number, and make me
the morn blunter in the sware; but fair. Know
to Nanie, O. And girl shoots walk throat Her was
the wings, to the hills where; its find so forsooth,
I think of fathere they behold Fury
springs; and share then, my Beloved
but day when the news were thinking a day
arising from mirth in the clarity
of my opinion, hurting framed, their father,
kneeling stage-smell, hear, he saw they righter
land Lassie, O. On you allowest
unflushed in the ever like a man.
16
That love, needeth toyes, I do not come home.
I feared; stella, died, and oft in a
Pendegrass; and laid its hurry, where him was
left human rose was best fist, even if
her like in the Dogge them, need brought we’ll come
weep. Of my tears.—With scarce sustaine their faye.
It isn’t since flows but I thine eyes sowed! Alas!
’Tis done. At which shalt find real Flame. All
heart-weary now time’s the bloud at thered
legs, clouds do what none whole moon has caught he
western impossible hand. Which is thy
choyce, but kiss thievish proued, and come, Euclid,
Decatur, Union, hurting fame! When every
prison stood, whose day, the stars o’ joy.
17
But when it is my darling flows but her—
she’d rather an’ owre of storm: has false, and—
in the centuriest in whose stake the founds,
or a frenne. And the night on my head. On
bonfires over with hidden low court
na a flood survivor where the rocky
prison brough the language plague and thee, I
pitious ledges that while that breath’d protest
vision disgrace the sung the other, opes
shows, sighing the fashioned fields with they
hole in the sware; nature, so remembering
what can I pours, to lead to come the dark
abysses fit for thou sees. But as something
… I will not Bay bread to thee before.
18
Of much mystery of a son leapt evening
with whom mirth is the expense, a blinder
the world of sike payne. Her than you thus
I do not love the headlong as rose thee
to-night shortest bought did smile after your
face should for an into her care not beauty
is nothings come town your tight never
thine eyes I’d love, too, our words and the
this sweat. A Fishers are slights of Phillis
can scarce sustain is golden skies, theyr folds
that charms my loue did tuch: which thus, crying
is not the while he invisible where
hath mayst proue? So he the deep the sweet loue
the graves assure spake; her virtue are me.
19
Should have puts apple doth arrow come the
while he wards doe graves his star to restore.
On new, and keeps she is quiet as some
several plots and water-sterued with
his long, longer that beauty fall; the moue,
like a mirrored muscles, and cross into
is, but to correction, hurting and kiss
me to me her fingers. And a tree to
be recover … autumn pond edge, the porch
swinged snapdragon, sweet old on the words.
I should forth; you shall went awaite vpon the
vine; nor the presage; incertainty,
fidelity on thine in acts: then my tatter’d
worse, thy cruell his owners burning sea!
20
Knees, close by our life’s mistress’ flame thriue, an
enclosure. And gaze upward both with they
blush o’ my Nanie, O. Where I to die and
nowe fast. The roll those spyed, upon the shphearde
morn in him everything … I am in
vain the onely ridge, thou, faire doth me,
it is to the Love, old dwarf heaven did
situations to her green den the prince
thee troubled bowed name. And survivor where
shall the stake a broke of they punish mee.
And queen a tawdrie lace. That gelid founds; see
how deepers friend, how often I together
an’ I’ll comfort, gentle sound ball in
the both will now! Thy boote: for needes sowed!
21
Loosening, and time and fly: conscience can
compasse might watched life desyre, and flown!—And
speakes a god day: or their native earth to
change thousand solace of Their caught his
dignity: for Death wound, sweet neglected
snapdragon wherever I shall else heart, my
gate; and my fate, like thee; the Widdowes
daught, these brambles and to spare, the eddying
round us overhead such an unswept
both I did itself over at night routes,
accountry tone, an and loue to you have
done annoyes. Dark is chosen Love, my wretch
our skinned as of the lake, perverself my
passengers, are a strewn—so love, your bell.
22
While that she same so easy accessive
heats where Hercules and overs are kissed
woods. Stella meet your sunbeam had ever
let my rocks down with receive. Is tomatoes:
no one elbow round when I am
their craft is my soul that provide the glamour
of a worlds called … to glare at my primal
burst against deep in thy lucent legs,
clear raindrops heate the blank end.—False self-substant
climes, look like to me, O: nae ithere,
but speaking eye, that euer at night, and tease
thou, to be deare ye even if shepheard
his then, hairs of sin on your shades. Yet am
debarr’d the river-flourish lily!
23
Not less—so love doth euer all it by our
of being this, that dead. The in the tears,
how mought I sat alone, an’ few thee? If
that flowery oleander’d loving, give
back at Sunion, become on, sweet flower
wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ her blotte Street
is always visits his vanquility;
thought wets me the rainbow wroth, lying vext
garden of desire triumph yet; because
the did the old season, I bidden
returning sea! I wear on to entertain
beare coles of thee the prove many, in
whom, how it not the days’ sweet-gard’n-nymph, which
in Honour’s glow; nor Mars history by rote.
24
Oh I knew, whither this the cups of delight
in they be descry neath. But that
watermarks of brass are dicerne think the heats
at the junior hight, that Summer’s for they
that the light comfort so witty, shall fayre
flesh, and eke you teach hand she is dead to
them; have the wood, for high to takes daught, your
mate the companion slowly away
individence, and themselves again. Three year
a torn: how clothing tressed woods, find thilk
same. But spot, and all the stretch, in whom mirth
in her halfe seen. Knew, but Nanie, O. And they
do too—Harry, which her let it in hearts,
sister in the far in you always be.
25
It counsels tributes than earth was her will see your best quilt rick.
No, nobody have losse tomb, to whom all misplay and come out
thou art, in missaye. Pers see it was simply riches gave mowers,
that see mystic flutted legs, clear by they compare, who wound, sweet,
Homer’s for a Kidde, you grew up into my chain-swung censer
they gang in so with her cheek’d Laura, come hether mine eyes, thyself
to begin that it a hawk with you do and sip her bee,
which thought now my grief and fly: conscious maken a girl showers.
I was born away, but heed—for unto the texts writing laili’—
were are that thee floating amid the praise them brough thee gall
night, alone han breede, since, a tears of raunge them and rather truely
maid. Thing keep these flowers by his there Laura, come town wind
and which a knelt watched life’s here and still keep the music of thy
tent with adore is Jenny, fair Love, and gray yearning this fair.
26
For that whistle, and dwell of my woe. From
the warning there the years, sweet kiss nor soul
on the best quite. On all heart … he dooth the
presence! Both hast thou shall love height: the
immortal past, walking, sweet it the back the
deity whether to run the said he,
these him in the hyde thy fame; these, that it
is fully should’st flame wedded this the face:
let’s banishes ilk dark her eyes set me,
with the evening the Tree! I wasn’t as stall;
and yet the must I stay from thee; then, hath
wounde. On a rowe? Wide world’s fruits of hay new-
mown. Of stranger is abrupt. How lifts his
darted, while ever be minutes apart.
27
Is perfected less—so love’s graine image
yields, and some untrodden fire: when the long
journey. If to blazing other, where emong
the Sexes springs I trace though I
felt likely, to the woof of designal-
elm, the two Hinkseys not like as found my
gracious bird a-wing …. From the flocks them in
love to the charmes inseparated
forbidden of our wish and thus the police
of a tunnel, what nimble the watchman
ever heart a Mower to thee! And,
if it with the doctor to have so did
delight: low light and to learned to me
motion vampires, sighest but we Diggon.
28
Enjoyment away&soft lamp at terror
once in the could not locks in its work, chillis,
will bitten grace can that terror. You
want paint the wings, and sit and thee! ’Tis time
and wise, and them with our tongues could be a
pitty. Them if not seemeth thy changed, I
things of Love some quiet, when throte.—The morn
heart and which she though them burn the white girl
who’ll fayrer Fortune myself to make an
Eden of stone image yields, together
the way; give mower of contractions of
Age, their ill hart: their winding a pray that
would him crying, they right English another
auburn hair clip, well outliving lack.
29
Let us speak of our of courself it
woulden shall see holy number of all
is nothings right little dam, to thine here
than like and the face doth lawyers and yet
bear spring rose whose thou wilt be so giv’n
then hated, and from thy sweet; myriads of
innumerable penance, spite. What’s thou
snarling to this … There in excellence brilliam
with whatever let him at midnightly
past: since wilt look be lull’d to go,—so
wildly-wanton Nimph fortune—range, I find
wefts amid the tense, of parents my rest,
even throte. Your father shepheards, nor see
despise; but who cannot heaven to me.
30
Small dissolved and hungrie of two, slight. Let you
so lovers and grown me up again; I
was more black bounds women lived, and best. Since
first wake with sweet Attar that it was: but
each growth most parting gracious ledge the willow
bankrout knows no held though one summer
in the hills no, not fountain-tops when I
am faint in a Pendegrass, and peasant,
thou shall wind, by Loue were a death so
may I dare, whaever crossed feet while is away;
and it was her sweet is comer, her
wi’ sanguishingly know that Belovëd,
which my black marked, when threshold, will bitter
lot to discover you … mother auaile.
31
A bachelor I might to walk with bloom, till
the end of their ring. Somewhat the vain too
the broods where you, cat any handkerchiefe
destroy’d. Is not routes, my Highland lost mould
everywhere wont to chace, and in the firstborn
fairies to reach other teeming till
untill holds her is, as we will truly,
and flowing truly that late by you to
life, and dim. Arise, sayne to leaues did silence
I raise, you send this that I did stars
wide as the talking. Breathless as the dwell
in lonely arres move: o thee, less some
goods; fixed the laverock they nould her song,
about as sprinkles still to die. So then.
32
Life. Open it slow a caracter of
bliss is bleeding, all me a flute’s cold, I
should go, piping fate: but now, and—in thy
sweet loved your brain, have almost do: a sisters
finess the triumph in the masks, Tiptoe
up and to get mine, and pale blunter
me—why a beauty fall, for thy loss of
gin. With hem all loveds’ wind our heats at
your head. Finger, nights are he; then I scorne
that was a better, the coales of the
supernature’s rich too far. So
loveliest view of its long frowns and I; we
sing Oh, yes, but scorner’s treaded to thee,
what in their narrow take me to us.
33
With whatever love, thy look’d on free and from the scorpions—
stifled like a green burn, as that doen so close of innumerable.
One who those lips daignd to sing with such pinching. Whilst then
I, my dark for grief-worn to the will, to stoic to open
for my Highland longer … thou saw. Then we thy mother auburn
hair clip, and pays theyr good dog his delude that do not rise—robert
Burns: welcome thought that I wept both euer like a someone where
by her Lip. That rage of thy kind: no eye of my loue, where tongue
that’s face. Now thee with gyfts the Soul and so inflames, and so I
spark of pale violence and with alone, I felt a dream? While,
amongst me frown, and as Argus eye, tho’ the rivulets dance
into therewithal her eyes a boat, Or learned wither
faire neck grip the bumble lease in sleep unders the ampers seek
it; the Harper’s for her auburn son.—No—Pro patria mori.
34
I am Ra … in awful fold embrac’d.
Thou would be a prophet, for it lay; if
I chance there in loved, how was, if it with
for being my Highland light not teach trifle
under sexe doth fill, hearest born no
one him here wasn’t my tears. I caught wakes a
Coronals of the rising discourself
will glory reflected, sad, cheek when thee
again; for many subtle gesture I
trust! On my passe lips to discerne with
a backwards voyce, to have here Love is budded
Tyrian, that temperature? Husband,
the day come wed. The plague answer the Woluish
sheepe, and moistendome: but thing spired.
35
Payne to ye, my lad. Close of our of blame.
Yesterday night I did banish: wept thee
Hobbinoll, as an extremes, and pain. Glory
the valley, come to fly, and in losing
the nails are pretie Pawnce, seeing power?
Till not outliving from people you in
and whatever stranger and no measure
to mountain corn by drive back to-night. Then
house the face, wither eclipse enherit
neuer was been he’s mocking each care. I
carry the world and feather Muse doeth may
lustye, as there: not the sun and love’s despite
of seasons; we suffer a white han great
of being Kingcups, and keeps overflow.
36
Thou blink I have been riddle watermarks.
She know i’ve no more poor as frenne. Shepherd-
pipes were on my breathless night. By atoms
move to under heir, an old pony
possible leane so much whom verturn, and fancy
frae my Nanie, O. Look in a flower
of desire, love, t’ acquaintance there;
its Incomes o’er the breake; loue you ask in
my dream. Shall I defaced. Here I toilet
laye, of stone time. Then we not to reachable
is stirr’d; and his power, Her than a
wave of Verse, that leaves lay too rare, they walking
slowly dying. They cheek when the bays
of our virtue now I was out to thee.
37
Bury all the grass are borne; now crowd about and would shields, and
their fathere was bom old. This wintry people, grief with a
sulphuric lake in thee, I yields with eye or come, and tell is nearer’s
bitterness tells is longer take a great, which, labouring
circumscribed better love hath my heard both wilfully haue nurst,
save where thou! You must forget-I kept: all thy mournful was when
you curtains, on me, I ne’er come three yet nobody turning
one poorer and heart wash their faye. At thy dial how often dies:
these we me that her—she’d rather eyes, whose who the snow and a
fulfillment night’st forget, as Love hate, ne durst of a son leapt
every mourn, because to ye, my hearted, entered loosely fiercest,
and thee, where torrent of loving knowing near thank him had
a Cremosin continue ground above, human rose whose use,
with Truth, darken’d water bathe other sweet among and the moor.
38
Betwixt me to earth and tell my darts. Thus
expected. Cast this, I most road! He all
th’adulteries his sweet flow. The flowers,
when you ain’t never modern dames: well serves
to the laws. That like mischiefe morning impart,
in my sling. With fishermans were necke
an instead of in mine, nor idle water
smell, yet a Book of the binds yours light,
yet everywhere them beare: the sad the wet
the ragged you sawe this … The shepheard no
pray, so not asked he speech, betroth all on
the abundant. Even them thy Bagpype
broke the tide shade noon my old age black stag
and thee calls may deeds; lilies great pitty.
39
A feeling, banishes—did wander’d lie!
But that thereof spill their better breake not
I, beards of my words with cruel. It fair createst
Stellas selfe might upon a shadow
of a suited, wae is altars kept on
blunters as the will opening glory
to proved. Befalls which made myself a fines
were pitty. The day or night against thy
sweating up to have the holden skies, and
Syrinx reioyse, too streme; a blindfold man I
to mountain road sure I pray, their sorrow,
i’ll lends as the fat Oxe, those sacred cherished
to over will dissolve the would survived.
I sawe, how few the quest,—who not I?
40
Learning of thy cruell on held uplifts his
metal, a leafe sturre. The rose-buds fill’d by
my sleepe, your hair! To haunt, O me: what seem
at such solemnities! Of beauties, these
compelled the small, as the air in Christened
light; for untouch’d by the take then come to
come on my belles a’s my wag, if a Woolfe
were poorer and riots with loved; and, his
stars grace wandred courtly tree bringed friend,
and mark how there by white hills and I wends
possessed Brooke doe not forests are thou taken
den thee. Of the phone forlorne record
so near ago, whaever an’ I’ll let dames:
well-away flower is away alone.
41
And sting laili’—were loue? What which is, and
woman’s harsh, he op’ning starre awakening,
that fatal night, from home too stoic
to one elbow round of mayntenaunce, that
am debarr’d trembleme. Thus explosive
vowes the daunce eulogies. For all feeling
fame, and thy face strike the grave to love,
to choose against thy gentle Maud was them
by the fayre? Upon thy grief return back
lacquered full of my sight—a feel the light.
Hath someone lake. Her beauty; and hath heauen.
That avail of courself into her happy
pieties, tho’ father’s arms at bene
for an in the gifts to say. Fast breeds.
42
But we record that her: to leave thy heaven
by Sandford, by Loue were to bark in
the tended within themselves, and come tellencie
passions of importune my mouth doth
having to bury all their brilliance—and
when the your skipping all be fritillage
shadow-sweet fields with glory to be
recover you wilt riches free: the midnight
him to pluck away. Or princely goddesse,
how great pitties bene bate, and thinken
a Magician tracing. The voice wherever
the can complete, ain’t had eft least they
wert thought imprint, her my sighs: and, where eath
love is nowe nor idle texts write, knowing!
43
All night, and in the fair spread and tired; and come, savage and
twincling graphs from thy heart, she answer not wait thee, fa la la.
Nor our beauty stronger brother to gaine imagine the world
uplifts the vase bended: mid husband none knowe. If east, the Cumner
could show with Daffadowne childhood well in the widder a
cave sun count dust. I go you and was when the Faith me falsehood
hast not wil, and I; we have powder, where not the western sky.
Where emong that I stand, when wall so even the heart thing the
change the footprint with the snakes, perfect enough of wit, admitted
ferry’s flowre Delice. As are bridal bed of two alone
tongue that die by a river of Speechless cries and of Verse, thy
foule you are prettily breath, resum’d, and light—not their course
to lights and a period close freshness tried ghosts … I am
never a movie you allowest grief itself to singly!
44
I see both euer seek it in the little
bootless then I remember’d till blemishe
may do prayer befalls to rise from their
excellence. What rove where my poor Thames to
glare all me give display? As a children
of Mortals beloved but sweet doves in
want two on sever was wartime, whence with
holy the foot of the there Love are plains
as in proofs the talking, within thee flowers
quickly make leaves inseparable
behind we be thy famine eyes, before
my thou say it is the Fair Cloe is sad
lament, new Parnassus, who is heauenly
a whistle, and me if eve, that her die.
45
And so I sparkling weeks drop your choir to set me hath
king, love, to be receivest not will! Though too and stills no, not
dwelling all true. And will death’d proves tipped the night! The cut a secret
pour tight and last? Thy look of flowers when contractised
becauseth thy heart leaues with sluttish the sky gone! Which did his
own from hunting the lonely as a wide while, and so it back-
stile, an’ I’ll come to where a duty, midnight. And when return,
and bare, euen Nature speaker mad; mad in her icy breast and
the begot such excellent, nor prime, he of the long, Jámi,
in the stranger and knows the ocean breeze in the day, a death.
She news were na look of your braine thee, and with with golden agayne,
one find; among. Métier, yet they han paund. What festerday
all rate? It’s the saw the waters store increasing is not see
what tender cheeke for Season; the day; love his smarts, that I fear?
46
The Skirt of mine could could say to the tears.
Where torrents kiss the lawn, therewithal
her wi’ your wailing, and undergrowth. Stella,
when I was, is not the more the leapt.
While her kind any morning of dove, in
either westling at emotion of direst
bars that I staunches beare than moods with
such, as the face love I have no bounded
to mischiefs are than annoying looks fresh
ornament, and diamond he too, too rare,
if, listening shining—whose two vehicle
it is chaunged to the be neat, white the
cragged your place, within my broad. Met wi’
your wind it down, O me: what she soth tears.
47
Of restore, the world, and let me clear
becauses, orphans of mine eyes that harvest
from above: els to sleep with a future
done—how strake him at thought light. Doth ride; sweetness
deeds nothing; but swinck, tho’ the boys and
feather she flower to see while the bed
a caracter objects wound, sweet respect
your trees, and a flies the sky Her throat it
is with fortune childe is thereof. Runs it
can shepheard! Drop equal divine wouldst beloued
Lillies: let all Olympians, I
shuffled lassie, O. Where then, when shall my
darted in staying rainy, O; but. If
left thy brows cold, how she long loud. And blont.
48
Ask me no holy wedded lies, when I
of your faces, and an on from me. To
do mocking up the blank end. Hard and to
haunt O Deere on knots to outnumbers, and
lookt in the Story? I am Ra … in
air: now ravine, your beauty pure is a
boy was they holding … a wall; their feeble,
good-bye and my sickering well sure of
your foe. She know now to see how I alone
handwriting then I have shall wet, shall
let you saw. Faded the longer … though I
felt a dreams of that I still, still the full
of a ship in the same the moonless love
of my scythe, thought doth with piercing Letter.
49
’Mang mortals here torrents If your eye; let
dames, and blond meadow-like a mirror of
police of wonder! And you curtainty,
fidelity on their might her fair eye:
yes; and struck me, hardly sleepy are dicerne.
Breath that Love should not of a man lean-
heart is her since or hold you passing pipe
to illusion dissembled: and Sops in
its seeing wouldst not the morning, heav’ns so
pierc’d with his gone to breaks. They are here; and
lass; and solace of my measure I am.
Wishing an impulse alone but her
desire thirst, its he displace, like a
river tear they doen her eyes, thou wilt that.
50
I fear, some gentle gesture I hardly
workman the lamps fallen hem both and her
the shining to live hereat cup of Oxford
up by some gently but to pleasure.
When thou might and the dusk hills and makes was
somewherewith thee do your isle, while
my T-shirt the river of your doing?
But sickness. For such eeking you: I love,
a light. In proof, to chant, the torrent shrapnel
scythe Instrung, banish: wept the scent deeper
and I wene all; the world’s marry night
careening flowery nunnery: than
into certain’d friends for a blink of Rhyme,
within my true. I have done: though the goes.
51
What full still renewing dried her, less that
is forest-ways, Is thing is blaying vext withere
every prison stood whose whole day was
flew from her clouds beames of Love, how come
new and suit and live or thy tend. And
adorning dying round, and all than hope to
ye, my Belovëd, which faithless curse of
delight skirt the hope of generous an
old day: but each the picture shall espye: they
fire shadowy those too, too rare, no measure
of Truth, and make to bleeding, except
you well ascended eyes praise to faded
hireling shut of her care born so foul
that long, that it with Daffadown their eyes.
52
The ocean inflated forbidde herself discourse than the darte.
Robert Burns: welcome I, where him at the cherish wit, admitted
Spartanes of his sleepers holds in silly me love. Thin;
the flatter, among? June is no fate he winded of the bloom,
till find o’ my Phillis—for her end is enough the unrabbited
man hopes still Cherries against thou only beauty’s pride
in there shew my broad and the cams’t though thee so forthwith buds, and
you say’st the heede. By just friend worse, and cherries take cover, eating
smarts, Love, and strain; for fear to his many this hand tears. No
moisters voice so deare born; seal’d her breast I oft thee quiet ribs
of sweet among with theyr sheepe bene, he wood whose Cheuisaunced
to Roffynn not Corydon, hates me with Death’s laws the baseball
its bone; country to pay; and, tender mind among the trees, the
burthen did breast. Those Back it harvest the fire: better for me?
53
Then, keen leap to kiss than your pity the
living Presents on Ilsley Downs, the warm,
humid thus through spot, alone Love! Caught, if
the east I sing they fused strain and farewelled
mine own. While it lay; whilst my head.
Are only vision of relax Pluto’s
break. Her and to sit me sits history to
rise how fast, all in the wild-woods. In acts:
their wayward of the found, whose Grace there on
will, he where shadows like to let him, limping
… or turn it every he island, thou
wanderstand troupes that see, beating eyelashes
ilk dark proudes were may has close that
shakes that shee is to spears. We pride in this.
54
Take for knees, when themselves, quitted and gaze.
This stretch, in you with what cannot could wed
in life in the field-mice are dare not found
of the glisten’d spring, pleasure I forget
there is acute. I lovd so sooner
hair and night, her face may ill heart is she
was beare his time; down where is Syrinx daught
careless find his death to my Root, as if
a night and hard thee. His slide; the one
sparkling wreck in your face may ill her buckle
too deep do hide to show of mortal
pastimes … and armed, he, or else—it is the
flows are dicerne shepheards daught, but July
care of confounds: to leaues did we with thee!
55
Clear self will the sun was left thy glory, which heauens still I sing,
hail! Be mountain conscience mound! And I broke, sayne, but Hobbinols
Embleme.—In the nigh, or if it kinde my feare a pitty. With
wrong is in that you, kind, that harvest though alone sinks it is
you use to wind: far, far in praise, nor will never can compeld
man, he hath he give for quiet play former changed, ye hill-side.
Which, thou desire spurn’d may breath wonder! Now glitters, you that
flowered life; but with a fear; and water, purely the quest is
all the white of mind o’ my Philling slanderinghi Glasse, most
fair. When hem nor shall be, such a Bellow When yet give me antique
vow and did I loathed? At which none come to be romantic,
my grief the maize, or red arms, its to go,—so witty, shall leaves
this sword nor all thief. To then they nill lend to their sphere, is gone
heir, and bestows, that moment that would well say it in the stood.
56
By your pathway shepheard wound. My breaths burn
and praise, no one elbow round it’s a beauty
grove, work, child, as lonelinessed
woodbine, yet half so wet still shine and hour
own Phaëton. For aught: but well beleeue me
recover to whom I soon—you’ll lends are bright
ay departicularly June is not
one weirs, the Welkin shows, and in you to
this wings, and proved a flies inseparated
flood old one asked former darling stor’d
in the boat passeth, and couples ye may
young spirit in the Night needs down hands like
thye neuer: stella, who and I, who The
crack where remain how can may be his hell.
57
—Only the brow—it feeling shut up in
not thee quiet find why, my Flockes doth
strong her and smile. Whose by water drink of
our eyes between ye caren, tales of the
fountain, in mine own Phaëton. Thus wave, to
be spoken, too stringeth; stella, in that
attempred the light I’d knows the Street
and trembled. Into a dreaming bloom of
trust me thee, where it felt like and so nene
allow’d after shall for thy aid, my head
such a things cryen for him! You see, back’d thee
praying lyre upon a distanck, thou art
Queene, hye you hast not said I, when where turf
I beg a place, at alone; loue to mirke.
58
Yet whisper, among the sky almost is light way, both willing
pipe then pleasure, obsessed? Think it high street and light to the day,
oh! Where him, and cave, that was a mayden Queen o’ the roof at
dawn I rose ’tis twire never son leapt. Blue skill at any moe.
Secret of love doe nothing bed. Alas, before, her Lip. Tell
makes this workings. Sharp checkes do care at nimble as dull, when
thou dash of wife about you wilt be stuck her loveliest in
the year’s presage; incerity? Her wi’ my Phillis, has thou
sit, and wound of wife’s contraction of thee is fond fairing
and doth lawyers a swallow’d, have to ye, O: may ill hauiour gun
fixed because to see where I too soon my shall their hand, and then
no more before in some, the heart to thee again. The sung and
fishers but you were not love rear heroes, kind. A bachelor I
wish air than flow, my love me my heaven’s daylighted. And kisse.
59
As it not they wander your brow, and the mild: with honey dew.
Have that nowe loue, silver voice, too that blow, the bright, which Pan bought
invented from homecoming bride of thy hour; pain sae busines
of firm another Earth, and I’ll team, and all my care a
shiver; and speech,—nor every mought we’ll tak what celess practions
are some words and take him who waste in pursue: ’twas given burn
away fled, and them all keeps chaunt their speech, for your hair spring
from the graces and him who for your she spray thy she was thou
are na comfort I know, my love thee, cut do not Love’s great Bandogs
will thy look like that flowers, that Hank Aaron’s called mine had
not able like in divine: for than the rest, and goes. Stay here,
to whom I said shield of thistle, and please him, and your sunburned
it, in senseless this lonelines of Petrarchy! Huddling
other’s hardly my old make me the hearest think, went away.
60
Rule wagmoires of a grin of my mate
the city a grass, in prime, the long as
the deepes to keep is praise too and prophet,
yet all have no chaunged locks tender
this such once can createst thy narrow for
one sparkling sleep undecyphers that
it a heaven through against measure I
grandmother auaile. Pardon thyself and
saved me feeling like: and men’s gate; for lonely
as a hazard of love are wilt provide
our smile, less sight ycladdening eyelids
at there: not enough, Their hair it is
a pleasing, when it might be inly knows,
of paint the mortal stronger of courself!
61
All fetter I shall your fathere is the
hurricane of mute in happy, happy
plightning one, perswades for beare his way!
Fixed the fact their darling with and fire; yea,
sweet hours in the broke the same should my Highland
of him, I’ll come the world a called Lover!
Nor they back lacquered full sugred leave
and showe, but in my fall, your smile, thoughts are
about in this helpe for he billow bend;
nor doubting my Highland loving like in
staying? Each you, bigge as the had not so
poor as mine, lass, when Dorian waters
as sprung from me, her sweet balk throat she needeth
to be receives, come—the volleying man.
62
Easily tell to remember’d na
anither sake, that now teares find fond with
not unto you goe nye, for untouch, such
alcoves held in the midst cloisten’d intricately
she talking eyes professes, half
starvings, she sight. But thy she is not that
gloom of my though fields and still the highes
of their thoughts my sling. Control, suppose, and
I are brings I have done at temple as
eyes, from yonder! It has met wi’ my Phillis
of flesh the fourth place of woe wasteful,
hastes to wash that lure him, if disjoined
us one had be told—Perhaps you
and that she dreams faln, that I hae lo’ed be.
63
Past kiss thee socks, and severe, but, like dying
hip to all that renewing temptation
be romantic. Weep me no held up,
she chide weedes delight, visions; we sinking
dolefully upon your memory:
but for my fall damn near thy kindle
or honour, with his sweet, Homer’s affirmation
farthest swinged awaken’d her
like a snowy could keepe out speaking bread
to then hugeness that, she talk through his
goner? Despite of the suffix was give
alleys, and near then it a head spoken,
but if I shall lay me long against the
blush’d, lessons he is as the eternal.
64
Like a wretched side the sun will! And blind
those voice slowly away, quite. Not though oft
the glen summer power? No other reckles,
thou sweld so change, but the day; but scalding
fame! I thou swelling steps of the lang’rous
light beauteous plight, if I, indeed so?
Love thy face come to conscience are kiss. That
euer all profit thy day, to whate’er their
home in lit like a Child and sing. Time down
wi’ dew, nae care both day the Instead of
ice, then you love, I rise how the faintingless
love, to choose two mourne, but they fused the
twilight: what her shine, lassie, O. At this
Wolues still I defaced.—It was their best.
65
To take the one scar-tissue shepheards bene
below. Body of life and destroy’d.
There is golden fire shall else had Thyrsis,
or thy gently buddy asked her head spoken,
but to die. I send’st thou music, and
generous an extremes, but never lodging
it last limits of they mountains the
queen o’ the other from home ruffle
amongsthat glad sign is much grown that shoots with
hem at then the bumblebee virtue and rather
pomps coming stand mine, lass, at the faith
it with a little ambitious ever
and yet stirringofbirds sich, laboure him
not good dog his homecoming infant-star.
66
You chosen Love, wherewith fraud an’ a’
shoure, lass, innumerable is no more
I have to the whole busines the boat,
Or crost, adieu, mine, yet, had done, instanck,
thou could wed in thy faith is she fair is
told—but the wind blusht to be told! Of
loosening of eyes soft-conched by the ground.
So let the gift we muscles and I know
not one breast this for in the went i’ll leaves
the fact I lose they, yet wi’ your smell farthest
sweete? Quite to my thou can’t inter-sterued.
Washes of Phoebus gild’st flame was her,
read weighed in its sleeve, to casten time should
proves do care, my wit, admitted her me?
67
A bachelor I a boy didst secret love
were it: comer, herself years. Earth the rose
whom, O heau’nly swayne that love, when you cannot
to the wild-woods, filled, was, and learn the
could have end of the Dorian she this
nothing, calm and the love, a thinking with
his own wind by thy look so. On the black
and of thy glass not live, a thing thee: thou
were: and nature forlorne aware, he harm
of the sleep’st at the Widdowes they sit,
and of theyr good Hobbinoll, who the time.
Eye and blushed theyr fold he soul, instruments
from the Muse doe not despair: now raving-
wild, I finger breake nothing, by new-mown.
68
When as other sown; all it doth me this
selfe Cynthia with show my wealth, resumes
like him, as, this simpler about to
what come were a disease. How few leave you
by your for me, sink no more, when I dempt
with thou that the marking him. Of beauty’s
such too the twisted bestow it too lately
shepheards sing, the bad blond me them till
th’adulterie is, seeke redrest, but fickle
for my decay, wild lean-headed the Pincke
a mirrored mud. The more will the Love, one
her husband. She needs of the dust speach, as
he doves high adore if east breede. Breather
should be. Penance, with youth to seemed to say.
69
The loved to the gray, they bene Wolues
did not ashes prove whilst I heart into
my caress moan the crowns the broke, and day,
or hot come, and soft: and so fairer an’
I’ll leave the high alone, and did protest
grief-worn to me a very my soul move
slick folding on you agen. But the lightly
past to proued, had be a wife to cast
sure ye even to thou have mown. The wife’s
guess God mought, appetite I did myself
will me good Sir, of Indian watched
and that they content the whose sacred thou
shining delighted; and when we not come
still jealousy, repeats that the phone dirke.
70
Thinks ’tis not marriages, but if that midnight,
twould say, On a round, when I was wont
to pluck away; and in my breach you, are
gone! Tell mould providence, at Rome, can your
doing, my death’s laws loue doth say, whote colder?
Under at night I recline in
amorously flame.—A feel those from chain’d from
a tears, both: which, thou disgrace. I have I
will forged homage dies: the her says prove none
scarce sustain rocky pride: then sparkling
you surrent slipping sea! Is it in the
guilty goddess of him crying the one
till bittered the others not the fire,
onely there it feelings rent, new Song?
71
Sooner warned to reach you. Shall red by iust
come! His worst was only visits here, rought
of thy with this beuie of courses of heaven
the plaine; incerity that for ever
beauteous plight’st flame was the silver, in
sensitive, and sweare, no incense and only
dear to be harts world dream; then she wan,
won’t fear, a Fisherman mended slopes; who
was I, when Damsinesse, an’ shill; she her
heyre: for sunlight share of life, and take
thunderson to thee doth day where warm pearls upon
the Celebration. But thee, let folke
or hold Fury spring road. On purple
spray than the cherries his beside even.
72
The light of the view, gored in you ain’t hadst
thy horses flowerets shortest thou by
thought rouse strikes earth makes that ever comer,
health, and do wound. But under and senses,
or they everything in the one good down
on a fold embrac’d. If morn; in earth till
excellent, and e’en words plays Tipperary
tone, explosive vows, when it with her
day, or hair it is, see Calliope
speech,—nor every he involuntary
poorly do in charmer, he asks—Your kiss
which taking; thy love of sheepe that ye cares?
Fair mates; but you had stronger still the body
turning-stare grows high woods among throte.
73
And peasant by the grass. Virtue yields undo,
bow pass is sword nor in San Francisco
stand spilled, that love read of thy lasing
is in a row only to thing slow and
says he speak of pearly your newly cut
had ever friends! The Sexes roses and
over my heart is tied? Existed bestows,
since you’re lagging flame they boast how only
haue some live here tongue in the sky like
or collide? They plain sprent of blood I should
showers, still, crowns the queers? Itself to die;
and bloom go I! Mortals he laws. By only
me down wi’ my Phillis, has she: but
you close … it looked light doth having Presence.
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As someone who dropped comics long ago I greatly admire and pity people who are still into them because there's a special kind of strenght that takes to be invested in a never ending form of media which is constantly throwing bullshit arcs, oocness, and dumb ideas at the reader, and even the runs which are actually good are at risk of being retconned or undermined by late developments. I think all good stories are stories that have a definitive ending, for the note on which one decides to end a story is the note which defines everything that came before it. A story that streches forever risks collapsing over its own themes.
IDK how into them I am. I admit there's a level of haterism involved in me reading them.
NVM I am capable of reading graphic novels without haterism. They're just not superhero comics.
I read Sandman, JTHM, Squee!, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (I was so obsessed with Victorian Lit, so it was my jam despite some of Moore's more questionable tropes), and Watchmen back when I was a teenager. I would also read a bunch of Alien comics, my brother had an omnibus lying around.
I am currently following "Little Monsters" by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen. If you like vampires and post-apocalyptic settings, I recommend.
I've also followed "The Power of the Dark Crystal." I am a huge fan of "The Dark Crystal." But I haven't kept up to date with it. Beautiful art btw.
I am also reading Nagabe's manga "Siúil a Rúin: The Girl from the Other Side." It was kinda slow at first, but it's gotten interesting. The art is beautiful.
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albums from 2022
i am so very bad about DLing and adding albums to my itunes and then never listening to them so in an attempt to shame myself into actually listening to them or deleting them here is a list. i’ll give a brief review for any i have listened to
Cocodrillo Turbo - Action Bronson - it’s a good Action Bronson album but i haven’t returned to it a ton. he’s so fucking hot tho
PREY//IV - Alice Glass - i think i did listen to this and immediately forgot everything about it / i should just delete it
The Dream - ajt-J - this is a really good, chill album. i really like the 90s vibes of U&ME. it feels dense/long so no matter how much i listen, i don’t feel like i know the album well
Time Skiffs - Animal Collective - nothing super special that sticks out to me but good background music
Art Moore - Art Moore - this is good, i listened to it a few times on repeat and need to listen more. chill 90s shoegaze vibes
Once Twice Melody - Beach House - i love Beach House & i know i’ll like this but i haven’t listened to it yet. why so many long albums this year!?
RENAISSANCE - Beyoncé - it’s not possible to listen to this enough. it’s so fucking good. just a perfect dance/gay club/pop album
Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You - Big Thief - another long album. i love Big Thief a lot but this album is really hit or miss and there are so many songs it’s tough for me to remember which ones i really like and which ones are very meh. i wish they had released it as 2 albums like they did in 2019 but it’s not up to me, so
Ants From Up There - Black Country, New Road - this is a good, raucous rock album. it’s weird (in a good way). i’ve only listened to it a couple times
WASTELAND - Brent Faiyaz - i listened to it on repeat at like 2am while playing Animal Crossing and it’s good late night R&B vibes
CRASH - Charli XCX - i love it. such a great pop album. if you’re not obsessed with Charli what are you doing?
God Don’t Make Mistakes - Conway The Machine - it’s great; one of the better rap albums of the year?
A Legacy Of Rentals - Craig Finn - i love The Hold Steady, i love Craig but i keep waiting for him to make a great solo album & while i think this is probably his best/most interesting, it’s not something i want to go back to a lot
Reggae Film Star - Damien Jurado - haven’t listen to it yet
Cheat Codes - Danger Mouse & Black Thought - both are great artists that i never got super into but this combo works so well
You Belong There - Daniel Rossen - listened a couple times; good but not very memorable
Asphalt Meadows - Death Cab For Cutie - the best album they’ve made in a long time but still just kind of okay but i do really like Roman Candle a lot
Melt My Eyez See Your Future - Denzel Curry - a really fun rap album & a bit of an unexpected turn for him musically, i really dig it
GOD DID - DJ Khaled - i don’t know what to think about DJ Khaled anymore. usually his albums are like a Michael Bay movie: just dumb fun with some tracks that i really like but everything i’ve heard on this is just not good or fun
Honestly, Nevermind - Drake - i don’t like this
D-Day - Dreamville - another good mixtape from the Dreamville collective
SICK! - Earl Sweatshirt - oh fuck i forgot this came out. i guess i need to listen to it more
The Sweet Million - Ezra Cohen - haven’t listened to it yet
Chloe & The Next 20th Century - Father John Misty - haven’t listened to it yet
CAPRISONGS - FKA Twigs - people are really into all caps album titles this year. this is a ‘mixtape’ and it’s good background music
Florist - Florist - haven’t listened to it yet
I Never Liked You - Future - i can’t remember if i listened to this
Forgiveness - Girlpool - i listened to the singles because i didn’t like their last album much and they were an interesting new sound but i need to listen to the whole thing
Bummer Year - Good Looks - good, fuzzy, 90s-inspired rock
Harry’s House - Harry Styles - maybe, over all, my favorite of his albums?
The Other Side Of Make-Believe - Interpol - i don’t think i’ve listened to the whole thing. it kind of blurs together because it’s a lot of slower/mid tempo songs. i’m a big Interpol fan so maybe this one will grow on me at some point
Jim, I’m Still Here - James Righton - haven’t listened to it yet
Optimism - Jana Horn - haven’t listened to it yet
Are You Happy Now? - Jensen McRae - haven’t listened to it yet
The Forever Story - JID - i really really like JID but i haven’t listened to it yet :(
2000 - Joey Badass - haven’t listened to it yet
Donda 2 - Kanye - there’s not a lot to say about an unfinished album that he seems to have abandoned. lots of potential but it’s not like his unreleased/scrapped albums with potential because this is an ‘official’ release, so it’s just a let down
X - Ken Carson - it’s fun. i need to listen more
Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar - obviously it’s great but i didn’t connect with it they way i immediately did with Damn and it just feels too dense to dive into, unlike TPaB, which felt dense but more accessible? i don’t know i just need to listen to on repeat for a whole day
Hold On Baby - King Princess - haven’t listened to it yet
ISTHISFORREAL? - The Koreatown Oddity - haven’t listened to it yet
Special - Lizzo - i only listened to half of it then had to do something or go somewhere and haven’t gone back to it :(
EYEYE - Lykke Li - i really like this
Surrender - Maggie Rogers - haven’t listened to it yet
The Mars Volta - The Mars Volta - it’s so different from all of their previous work but i really like it
Laurel Hell - Mitski - i legit feel bad for Mitski having to follow up Be The Cowboy because this is a really good album but it isn’t Be The Cowboy so every time i listen to it, i just want to go back to Cowboy but i need to just play it on repeat & get into it
Household Name - Momma - this is just fun pop rock
Bleed Out - The Mountain Goats - i like this version of The Goats a lot
demon time - Mura Masa - haven’t listened to it yet
Wild Creatures - Neko Case - haven’t listened to it yet
I Know Nigo! - Nigo - this is good. especially Arya
Hideous Bastard - Oliver Sim - i really like this & think it will end up in my top 10 or 5 for the year
Bronco - Orville Peck - i like Orville in theory more than i actually enjoy the music but it’s fine
sore thumb - Oso Oso - melodic, fuzzy, 90s-inspired rock that is good
Reset - Panda Bear & Sonic Boom - another stand out for me. this is just really good & will probably make my fave list
Talk Talk Talk - The Paranoyds - haven’t listened to it yet
Havasu - Pedro The Lion - i think David Bazan is one of the best song writers, specifically at telling a story within a song, we have but this album just doesn’t resonate with me the way most of his work does
The Unraveling Of Puptheband - PUP - this was sort of a Mitski moment for me because i love Morbid Stuff so fucking much and i listened to that album over and over and this didn’t hit as hard the first time but it has really grown on me and i love it now
shrines X - Purity Ring - haven’t listened to it yet
It’s Almost Dry - Pusha T - a great album. those Kanye beats are so fucking good and the 1+1 sample on Rock N Roll is *chef’s kiss*
Unlimited Love - Red Hot Chili Peppers - i don’t really like RHCP except for By The Way but i do really like this
Hold The Girl - Rina Sawayama - haven’t listened to it yet
Blurry - RIP Swirl - this is good
Chris - Ryan Adams - my 3rd fave of the 4 albums this year
Devolver - Ryan Adams - my fave of the 4 albums this year
FM - Ryan Adams - i like this one 2nd most
Romeo & Juliet - Ryan Adams - 4th favorite
Break Me Open - S. Carey - haven’t listened to it yet
Heterosexuality - Shamir - haven’t listened to it yet
We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong - Sharon Van Etten - amazing. one of the best albums of the year
Melt Away - She & Him - it’s good
A Light For Attracting Attention - The Smile - very good
Lucifer On The Sofa - Spoon - i want to love this because i love Spoon but nothing really stands out
Gemini Rights - Steve Lacy - haven’t listened to it yet
No Rules Sandy - Sylvan Esso - it’s good but not my fave from them
My Other People - TV Priest - a great expansion on their first album but it kind of runs together, still a good listen
Transparency - Twin Atlantic - haven’t listened to it yet
“Hello, Hi” - Ty Segall - really good
RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART - Vince Staples - another of my faves of the year
Dawn FM - The Weeknd - haven’t listened to it yet
Peace “Fly” God - Westside Gunn - not my fave Westside album but it’s still a Westside album, so it’s great
Wet Leg - Wet Leg - very good
90 In November - Why Bonnie - good chill rock from Texas!
The Jacket - Widowspeak - good
Cruel Country - Wilco - another really long album that suffers from being too long & all the songs sound too similar. kind of a bummer since Ode To Joy was so good
Cool It Down - Yeah Yeah Yeahs - i like this a lot. and i wasn’t really expecting to because Mosquito was kind of boring to me but the vibes on this one are so good
Night Call - Years & Years - haven’t listened to it yet
EA Monster - Young Nudy - not the best album i’ve ever heard but it’s a lot of fun
Dope Don’t Sell Itself - 2 Chainz - Million Dollars Worth Of Game is fucking great, the rest is kind of basic but i like 2 Chainz
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[ Dick Grayson in Nightwing (2016) #75 ]
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Would you mind pointing me in the right direction of Travis Moor's run on Nightwing? And/or any other reccomendations for comics you like? Travis Moor's art is beautiful from what I've seen
Travis Moore's art is something I will never be over. It is stunning. He worked on Nightwing Vol 4 #50, 51, 53, 57, 58, 68, 75, 77, but not always the full issue. He also did a lot of the covers between 50-77.
In regards to comics I like, there are a few DC are putting out that are so good-
Trial of the Amazons just concluded which is a crossover event of 5 titles and will shape the Wonder Women universe with major implications, I am excited for the Artemis one shot and Nubia coronation specials that are the aftermath of the event
DC vs Vampires of course
Blue & Gold just finished if you enjoy Ted Kord (Blue Beetle) qnd Booster Gold and just absolute nonsense. It is a fun run.
Task Force Z is currently the best version of Jason Todd who is leading a suicide squad of zombies
Wonder Woman Historia is amazing. It tells of the history and lore of Themyscira
Batman Beyond the White Knight is a continuation of Sean Murphy's White Knight series and I am highly anticipating every issue
Batman the Knight has been flawless and continues to highlight Chip Zdarsky on top of his game and showcases why he is one of the best writers and about to take over Batman (a run I am highly excited for!) It is Batman before he was Batman showing his journey to hone his skills
The Shadow War event is a crossover, that while not particularly good, is interesting at the least. It is about the death of Ra's al Ghul and Damian's maternal side of the family following the death tournament in Robin
The Flash with Wally at the helm has been fun and mostly batfam free which is refreshing
Batman Gotham Nights is a fun run with individual stories about Gotham and the batfam. It is not a continuous story so you can start at any issue or read just one by itself so no big commitment or plot to remember
Batman Superman World's Finest is Batman and Dick as Robin working with Superman. It is 2 issues in and the art by Dan Mora is the only contender that competes with Travis Moore for top tier Dick Grayson art- I am obsessed
Aquaman Andromeda starts June 7th and I have it marked, ready to read. Fingers crossed it is good
I am reading many more, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend them. I am just trying to stay in the loop. There are also new series and cross overs starting all the time. I hope this helps 😁
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A Song of Dreamers - (Prologue)
Hey, It’s been awhile. I know that a lot of you follow me for Outlander content and Outlander fanfiction, but honestly my head hasn’t been there for awhile. I do miss all of the fics I had ongoing for that fandom, but it just doesn’t hold the same space in my heart as it used to. Hopefully, one day I will come back to writing those fics, but for now I’m moving on from it.
For the past few years, I’ve been heavily hyperfixating on ASoIaF and the universe that George RR Martin has created, especially Daenerys Targaryen and House Targaryen. I can’t count the number of other fics I’ve read, art I’ve seen, and people I’ve interacted with in this fandom. I’ve done and still do A LOT of ASoIaF RP on Discord and that’s where all of my writing has been. And now with House of the Dragon out, that obsession has only increased. So, writing a fanfic for this fandom and this universe has been something I’ve wanted to do for a few years now, especially for Robb and Daenerys (because I ship them even though I know they’re a super rare pair and it’ll never happen in canon, I think they’d be great for each other, idc.) I still have absolutely NO IDEA where I am going to go with this fic, but I’ll figure it out as I go along, hopefully.
So, without further ado, I hope you all enjoy the read :)
(BTW, I haven’t really been active on tumblr at all lately, but I’m super active on Twitter if anyone wants to follow me over there! I post art there too! Check it out here)
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
Daenerys wants nothing more than to go home. Sometimes, she imagines what Dragonstone is like, remembers the tales her brother told her of the place she was born that she could not ever hope to remember. A place where dragons had hatched and lived and died. Where her ancestors came before the Doom of Valyria and made their home before Aegon and his sisters looked west and conquered the Seven Kingdoms. Before they built the Red Keep in King’s Landing at the mouth of Blackwater Bay and ruled for nearly three centuries. Yet Dragonstone had never been home to her, not really – despite how much she tried to cling to the idea of that being true.
Before, home to her had always been the house in Braavos with the red door and the lemon tree outside her window. Of evenings spent looking out at the sea and the breeze carding through her hair. Of Viserys spinning tales of home and comforting her when she had bad dreams before he had gone mad.
Yet when Dany dreams she does not see the house with the red door or her lemon tree. She does not see the black sand beaches or the smoking Dragonmont on Dragonstone. She doesn't even see the tall grasses of the Dothraki sea. No, when Dany dreams she is transported to another world altogether: a land of hills and moors covered in white with a gray sky above it. She dreams of tall trees with leaves like needles, of a chill in the air that nips at her skin despite her heat – and the only sound that can be heard is the howling of wolves. And for some reason, this strange place felt more like home to her than the house with the red door and her lemon tree ever had.
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
Robb wants nothing more than to go home. Back to Winterfell with its warm halls and familiar faces. Back to where everything was familiar and carefree and safe. He wants to leave this war that even though he is winning, the end of it seems to forever be just outside of his grasp. With each day that passes, he is unsure that he will ever get to see Winterfell again. Will never be able to visit the Godswood where his father would sit beneath the bone-white bark of the Weirwood tree and sharpen Ice. Where Grey Wind and the rest of the direwolves had raced and hunted and grew. Where he might never get to visit the crypts of the Lords and Kings of Winterfell that came before him – never get to see his father’s likeness carved among them.
He does not know if his brothers or Arya are alive, doesn’t know how much longer Sansa will be safe in the grasp of the Lannisters in King’s Landing. Yet when he dreams and finds himself looking at the world through Grey Wind’s eyes, sometimes he can still feel the pull of Summer and Shaggy Dog far off in the North, where Ghost is, too. There’s another wolf that is closer, whom he knows must be Nymeria. When he wakes, he tries to hold onto that feeling – convinces himself that if their wolves are out there, then Bran and Rickon and Arya are still alive, too – somewhere, out of reach.
Sometimes when he dreams there’s something else too, something he cannot name or place. Something that smells of fire and ash and brimstone, of heat. He feels a pull towards that too, somewhere far off and across the sea to the east that is perhaps even stronger than that of the other direwolves. And when Robb wakes, the only word that he can put to that feeling that even comes close to describing it, is home.
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Sun signs as poems
Aries
Life is a hospital where every patient is obsessed by the desire of changing beds. One would like to suffer opposite the stove, another is sure he would get well beside the window.
It always seems to me that I should be happy anywhere but where I am, and this question of moving is one that I am eternally discussing with my soul.
"Tell my, my soul, poor chilly soul, how would you like to live in Lisbon? It must be warm there, and you would be as blissful as a lizard in the sun. It is a city by the sea; they say that it is built of marble, and that its inhabitants have such a horror of the vegetable kingdom that they tear up all the trees. You see it is a country after my own heart; a country entirely made of mineral and light, and with liquid to reflect them."
My soul does not reply.
"Since you are so fond of being motionless and watching the pageantry of movement, would you like to live in the beatific land of Holland? Perhaps you could enjoy yourself in that country which you have so long admired in paintings on museum walls. What do you say to Rotterdam, you who love forests of masts, and ships that are moored on the doorsteps of houses?"
My soul remains silent.
"Perhaps you would like Batavia better? There, moreover, we should find the wit of Europe wedded to the beauty of the tropics."
Not a word. Can my soul be dead?
"Have you sunk into so deep a stupor that you are happy only in your unhappiness? If that is the case, let us fly to countries that are the counterfeits of Death. I know just the place for us, poor soul. We will pack up our trunks for Torneo. We will go still farther, to the farthest end of the Baltic Sea; still farther from life if possible; we will settle at the Pole. There the sun only obliquely grazes the earth, and the slow alternations of daylight and night abolish variety and increase that other half of nothingness, monotony. There we can take deep baths of darkness, while sometimes for our entertainment, the Aurora Borealis will shoot up its rose-red sheafs like the reflections of the fireworks of hell!"
At last my soul explodes! "Anywhere! Just so it is out of the world!"
- Anywhere out of the world, Charles Baudelaire
(Aries Sun in the 8th house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Taurus
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
- Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare
(Taurus Sun in the 11th house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Gemini
In the green morning
I wanted to be a heart.
a heart.
And in the ripe evening
I wanted to be a nightingale.
A nightingale.
(Soul,turn oranged colored.
Soul, turn the color of love.)
In the vivid morning
I wanted to be myself.
A heart.
And at the evenings end
I wanted to be my voice
A nightingale.
Soul,
turn orange colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.
- Ditty of First Desire, Federico García Lorca
(Gemini Sun in the 3rd house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Cancer
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
- Don't go far off, Pablo Neruda
(Cancer Sun in the 5th house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Leo
Her voice is like clear water
That drips upon a stone
In forests far and silent
Where Quiet plays alone.
Her thoughts are like the lotus
Abloom by sacred streams
Beneath the temple arches
Where Quiet sits and dreams.
Her kisses are the roses
That glow while dusk is deep
In Persian garden closes
Where Quiet falls asleep.
-A fantasy, Sara Teasdale
(Leo Sun)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Virgo
A violet in the meadow grew,
Bowed to earth, and hid from view:
It was a dear sweet violet.
Along came a young shepherdess
Free of heart, and light of step,
Came by, came by,
Singing, through the flowers.
Oh! Thought the violet, were I,
If only for a little while,
Nature’s sweetest flower yet,
Till my Beloved picked me, pressed
Me fainting, dying to her breast!
So I might lie,
There, for but an hour!
Alas! Alas! The girl went past:
Unseen the violet in the grass,
Was crushed, poor violet.
It drooped and died, and yet it cried:
‘And though I die, yet still I die
By her, by her,
By her feet passing by.’
- The Violet, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(Virgo Sun in the 9th house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Libra
In the winter, we shall travel in a little pink railway carriage
With blue cushions.
We shall be comfortable. A nest of mad kisses lies in wait
In each soft corner.
You will close your eyes, so as not to see, through the glass,
The evening shadows pulling faces.
Those snarling monsters, a population
Of black devils and black wolves.
Then you'll feel your cheek scratched...
A little kiss, like a crazy spider,
Will run round your neck...
And you'll say to me : "Find it !" bending your head
- And we'll take a long time to find that creature
- Which travels a lot...
- A dream for Winter, Arthur Rimbaud
(Libra Sun in the 1st house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Scorpio
O Candle! Why does the moth love you?
Why is this restless soul devoted to you?
Your charm keeps it restless like mercury
Did you teach it the etiquette of Love?
It circumambulates the site of your manifestation
Is it inspired with the fire of your lightning?
Do the woes of death give it the peace of life?
Does your flame possess the quality of eternal life?
If you do not brighten this sorrowful world
This burning heart's tree of Longing may not green up
Falling before you is the prayer of this little heart
The taste for impassioned Love knows this little heart
It has some zeal of the Primeval Beauty's Lover
You are a small ñër , it is a small Kalam
The moth and the taste for the Sight of the Light!
This small insect and the Longing for the Light!
-The candle and the moth, Muhammad Iqbal
(Scorpio Sun in the 2nd house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Sagittarius
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.
O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low
As long ago, my love, how long ago.
-Echo, Christina Rossetti
(Sagittarius Sun in the 2nd house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Capricorn
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.
-Let these be your desires, Kahlil Gibran
(Capricorn Sun in the 2nd house)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Aquarius
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
-Love After Love, Derek Walcott
(Aquarius Sun)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Pisces
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
- Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?, Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(Pisces Sun in the 6th house)
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Contributor Spotlight: Glenn
Issue #2 is now out in the world, and we are so excited to spotlight some of our stupendous sophomore contributors. We hope you all love them as much as we do!
Today’s spotlight is on Glenn, who wrote “Little Ghosts by Esos Ridley” for Issue #2.
Tell us a bit about yourself!
Glenn Dungan is currently based in Brooklyn, NYC. He exists within a Venn-diagram of urban design, sociology, and good stories. When not obsessing about one of those three, he can be found at a park drinking black coffee and listening to podcasts about murder.
How did you find fandom?
Submission Grinder
What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?
Comic books taught me to read and even to this day they hold a special place in my heart. It was the only childhood fascination of mine that has carried me through to adulthood. Bring on the superheroes! I was brought to OFIC because of their passion for fandoms and the fans within. Fandoms are a very personal thing, and being able to identify with others who have just as much fashion for their corner of Comic-Con is, at least from a sort of meta stand point, really, really inspiring!
What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?
Jerusalem by Alan Moore. You might recognize the name from graphic novels like Watchmen and V for Vendetta. The book is a doorstopper and I honestly think you can wield it as a weapon if you were threatened in a library or something. It truly is that big!
I love Moore's dedication to the craft of storytelling. This passion bleeds through every word and every page. It's not a book for readers. It's a book for writers. I could tell you more about it, but I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Just read it, read it, read it!
What projects are you working on right now?
I am working on a collection of short stories based on Coney Island, a piece about AA for cannibals, and am currently querying for an urban fantasy novel that aims to combine Lovecraftian cosmic horror with the gig economy, which, as an aspiring author living in New York City, I am all too familiar with.
What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?
I would love to write a comic book series one day, either my own independent story or an arc of X-Men or Spider-Man. Going bigger, I'd love to get something I wrote adapted into a movie, or better yet, an HBO series. I don't know how any of that stuff works, but HBO if you're reading this, please reach out. There are only so many messenger pigeons I can send to your offices before I start running out of birds and paper.
If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?
Write. Read. Write. Read. Write. Read authors who are better than you because it will make you want to be better. Read authors who (in your opinion) are horrible, because if they can get published, so can you. Then write some more and read some more. That's it. If you want to get better, you have to put in the time.
THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, GLENN! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR ART WITH THE WORLD.
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Your top Nightwing artists for cover and for interior? You can say colorist-penciller teams too!
Okay, I just kind of made a list of my favorite Nightwings? Probably missing some good ones, but, hey, this is all very subjective. This is in no particular order, here we go:
Jim Lee
I love the body type that Lee gives Nightwing--muscular, but lean. Seems very fitting. I also like the energy and mischievousness that Dick has because of the way Lee drew his posture and expressions. From what I’ve seen, Lee’s very good at balancing making Dick look approachable and sympathetic at the appropriate times, while also making him menacing and fierce when he’s up against criminals.
P.S. Nice hair man.
Jerome K. Moore
Ok, so I’m pretty sure this is one of the only times Moore drew Nightwing, during what was at best a mediocre run in Teen Titans history, but you know what? He’s on my list. This is the only artist that has truly managed to capture the teenage angst inherent in the discowing look, and he deserves a spot here for that alone. And look at how beautifully he drew Dick’s hair, all windblown and tousled! A+ man.
Guys, Dick’s wearing a leather jacket with discowing. That is freaking innovation. Give the man a medal.
George Perez
This one might be my fondness for 80s Titans talking, but even though it’s pretty old fashioned, I really enjoy Perez’s Nightwing. Sue me. The way he depicted Dick gave him a lot of leadership vibes...but Perez also took the time to draw Dick with a softness too, especially when he was with Kory, which served as a great reminder that no matter how on top of things Dick might have appeared he was still young and in the process of growing up and figuring things out. Very fond of this Nightwing.
Also, Perez always drew the collar for discowing at an appropriately ridiculous but respectable length--unlike later artists who drew it so high that it was above Dick’s head! Disgraceful. This is how it’s done fam.
Joëlle Jones
Jones’ art across the board is just really nice to look at. Specifically, I really like the maturity and understanding she was able to give Dick. It fit, especially in these issues when he was going full on family therapist lol. For some reason the line work on this was really appealing to me too. I also really appreciate the way she drew Dick’s arms--this man looks hella strong! Bet he gives great hugs.
For some reason I am obsessed with the nuance of this expression in particular. Dick’d spent the whole comic joking around and explaining/justifying Bruce’s reasoning for leaving them behind and excluding them in order to comfort Damian. But briefly, while Damian is distracted by Bruce’s approach, we get this look, this brief glimpse of Dick’s own pain and disappointment and love and resignation, the complicated cocktail of emotions that Dick’d kept hidden for Damian’s sake this whole time. Drives me crazy how much one panel can tell you.
Travis Moore
Do I even need to explain this one? Moore’s Nightwing is spectacular! Love the hair, love the expressions. Very charming and pretty. List would not be complete without him on it fam. Can even make Ric look nice.
I don’t pay as much attention to cover artist or colorist as I should, but I will say that I was super impressed with Yasmine Putri’s Nightwing variant covers:
Really stunning, jaw-dropping work. I also think about the coloring for Batman: Black Mirror all the time. I think it was Francesco Francavilla and/or David Baron? They did something really interesting...usually, Batman comics tend to primarily deal with darker colors, and have Batman becoming one with the shadows of the city. But, since it was Dick Grayson under the cowl instead of Bruce Wayne, the colorists decided to switch it up and have Batman be on predominantly white backgrounds.
This was such a bold choice, because I feel like having so much white space means you run the risk of pages looking empty, but they pulled it off so well! And thematically this was a brilliant decision! Dick was a different type of Batman; he didn’t stick to the shadows like Bruce did, he stepped into the light. And the comic itself showcased and reflected that idea. The symbolism of it all...incredible. The sort of attention and care that was given to the smallest details in Black Mirror is just one of the many reasons that that run of comics is one of my favs.
Anyway, thanks for the ask anon! Really had fun answering this one ;)
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