#anyways this is poetic.

[blog-of-frontiers]

The thing about Wyll is that he Gets It. He knows the story. He knows the kind of man his father is and the kind of man he was supposed to be. He knew what Mizora was when he made the pact. He knew what it meant. And he was just a kid, and his city needed saving, so he did it, and he paid that price, and even knowing all of that he still tried to appeal to his father for understanding and forgiveness.

He sold his soul to do the right thing. And he was cast out. And he knew what character that should have made him.

He knows the story he's in, and every day he chooses who he wants to be instead.

[c-hrona]

Pietà

[penaltyboxboxbox]

how it feels to love sport even when it hurts me because the act of participating in and watching sports is one of the most purely human acts of collective emotion you can experience, wether you win or lose, in that moment you, the athlete, the team, every fan, in the room, in the stands, across the world, is cheering together, crying together, winning together, losing together, and its more beautiful and perfect and frustrating and heartbreaking than a tv show or movie could ever be because its real its real and next season can always be different so you'll always come back and we keep always coming back for the rest of human existence

[grey-tumbles-and-falls-down]

guys i started watching supernatural not long ago and theres somethign thats been living in my brain and it owes me money

S2 ep7 spoilers btw

When Dean n Sam are figuring out the Dana Shulps anagram there was something about Sam's handwriting that really just like grabbed my attention

(dont mind the white text its the only way i could find a pic)

look at his A's dude, LOOK AT HIS A'S

THEYRE STARS DUDE, HIS A'S ARE STARS

LOOK AT THE S2 INTRO BRU

STAR A'S

[flung-out-of-asgard]

i love you madame web

[scoobit9]

Huge fucking Jooster dump you know the drill

[haunted-xander]

This is old but anyway. Passing the torch etc

[pencap]

1. Capture a man. Hold him. Hold him. Hold him. Hold him. Hold him. One day he forgets his own name.

2. Leave no body to be found. Fill an empty grave with dirt. Let the world forget on its own.

3. Give him a name. Give him twenty. Tell him a new history. Teach him a new language. Teach him five. Give him a mission.

Let him go.

4. Take him back. Let him go. Take him back. Let him go. Take him back. Let him go.

He comes back on his own feet.

5. Give him blood and steel and pain until his muscles forget the difference between bone and iron and his skin craves the kiss of leather straps like it craves the touch of gentle fingers.

Drain his veins dry and empty and fill his heart with something new and let the poison spill like lifeblood.

6. Give him pain. Take it away. Bring it back. Take it away. Bring it back. Bring it back.

7. Give him a new name. Give him a new past. Destroy it all.

8. Tear him away from everything he knows. Let him watch his world collapse. Let him see his name wither away. Let him strangle hope with his hands.

9. Make him beg for mercy for respite for death.

10. Deny him.

- how to break a man by sylvie (j.p.)

[poetrysmackdown]

what makes a poem a poem? does it have to be written in a certain way? is this question a poem if i want it to be?

Fun question! This is just my personal sense as an avid reader and less-avid writer of poetry, but for me it’s useful to distinguish (roughly) between poetry as a genre and poetry as an attitude or philosophy through which language and the world can be understood. And of course these two go hand in hand. I see poetry the genre as essentially a type of literature where we as readers are signaled, somehow, to pay closer attention to language, to rhythm, to sound, to syntax, to images, and to meaning. That attentive posture is the “attitude” of broader poetic thinking, and while it’s most commonly applied to appreciate work that’s been written for that purpose, there’s nothing stopping us from applying that attentiveness elsewhere. Everywhere, even! That’s how you eventually end up writing poetry for yourself, after all. There’s a quote from Mary Ruefle floating around on here that a lot of folks have probably already seen, but it immediately comes to mind with this ask:

“And when you think about it, poets always want us to be moved by something, until in the end, you begin to suspect that a poet is someone who is moved by everything, who just stands in front of the world and weeps and laughs and laughs and weeps.”

Similarly, after adopting the attentive posture of poetics, there’s plenty of things that can feel or sound like a poem, even when they perhaps were not written with that purpose in mind. I’ve seen a couple of these “found poems” on here that are quite fun—this one, for example. The meaning and enjoyment you may derive from the language of a found poem isn’t any less real than that derived from a poem written for explicitly poetic purposes, so I don’t see why it shouldn’t be called poetry.

That said, I do think that if you’re going to go out and start looking for poetry everywhere, it’s still important to have a foundation in the actual language work of it all. Now, this doesn’t mean it has to be “written in a certain way” at all! But it does mean that in order to cultivate the attentiveness that’s vital to poetry, one needs to understand what makes language tick, down at its most basic levels. It will make you better at reading poetry, better at writing it, and better at spotting it out in the wild.

Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook is an extraordinary resource to new writers and readers, and a great read for more experienced folks as well. Mary Oliver’s most popular poems are all to my knowledge in free verse, and yet you might be surprised to find her deep appreciation for metrical verse (patterns of stressed/unstressed syllables), as well as for the most minute devices of sound. In discussing the so-called poetry of the past, she writes,

“Acquaintance with the main body of English poetry is absolutely essential—it is the whole cake, while what has been written in the last hundred years or so, without meter, is no more than an icing. And, indeed, I do not really mean an acquaintanceship—I mean an engrossed and able affinity with metrical verse. To be without this felt sensitivity to a poem as a structure of lines and rhythmic energy and repetitive sound is to be forever less equipped, less deft than the poet who dreams of making a new thing can afford to be.”

In another section, after devoting lots of attention to the sounds at work in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, she writes,

“Everything transcends from the confines of its initial meaning; it is not only the transcendence in meaning but the sound of the transcendence that enables it to work. With the wrong sounds, it could not have happened.”

I hope all this helps to get across my opinion that what makes a poem a poem is not just about the author's intention, and not just about meaning (intended or attributed), but also about sound and rhythm and language and history, all coalescing into something that rises above the din of a language we would otherwise grow tired of while out in our day-to-day lives.

I'll always have more to say but I'm cutting myself off here! Thanks for the ask

[talesfromthecrypts]

Rutger Hauer as Eric Vonk in Turkish Delight (1973)

[mxgicdave]

a little redesign project, my own takes on the Ferrari home race suits!! Carlos is based off of traje de luces 🐂 and Charles' is reminiscent of the red suits of cards 🃏 had a lot of fun with these, and will definitely do some more race suit designs in the future...

[storm-and-starlight]

you know, I think the real genius of TAD is that they can have lines like "and I'll sing silence and ask my glass of wine for guidance", which is just... so lovely and poignant and poetic and managed to perfectly capture about five different emotions in a single line, and lines like "I'm gonna go home and dress my cat up like Batman 'cause he's awesome like me" not just in the same album, but in the same goddamn song.

[lover-of-mine]

"I move too fast, go with my gut, let my head catch up later. It hasn't worked out before," Eddie Diaz says. Eddie Diaz who took one look at his new coworker and kept trying to create a connection even though the guy kept shutting him out. Eddie Diaz who watched that guy step up to help him without being asked, again, and again, and again. Eddie Diaz who learned to blindly trust the guy with every aspect of his life because the guy quickly became one of the most stable things in his life. Eddie Diaz who watched that guy not only love him but love his son as fiercely as he does. Eddie Diaz who was so sure of him, he decided to make it legally binding and hasn't had a reason to regret it since. Eddie Diaz who watched that guy break down a door and pick every shard of him up from the floor and carefully help him piece himself back together without ever judging him. Eddie Diaz who looked at his new coworker, decided he was worth the effort of understanding, and found a partner, a best friend, a safe place to land. "It hasn't worked out before," Eddie Diaz says. Maybe he shouldn't be so sure of that.

[damianito]

Selective Mute Aether my beloved

[miscellaneoussmp]

I love how Bagi and Roier are both reacting to the whole situation. They both love Cellbit in different ways, of course. That's what they share, their love for him. Their reactions are where they differ.

Roier only sees the knife pointed outwards, pointed towards those who have hurt them over and over. He doesn't care who it gets pointed at, as long as it stays pointed away from his heart as they both promised.

Bagi is worried that the knife is actually pointed inwards, pointed towards himself. She cares who it gets pointed at because she risks losing him again. What if the knife is pointing towards his heart? It's just like hers.

[dawningfairytale]

"do you think i care that you buried and left me, defiled my body?" uh yeah max, i do. especially considering you were going to kill steph in your revenge, who is neither nerdy nor a prude. the only way you want to be "defiled" is by sex. respect.