#dsmp poetry

[cupcraft]

A Medical Guide To Radiation Poisoning: From A Real and True Expert (a c!Tommy poem):

(Click for better quality or link for AO3 text)

If you like it would be kind of you to rb :)!

Poetry Tag List:

@blissfali @the-g-m @phantoids @tubborucho @whereisela @cishetinniter @wiiwarechronicles @snaxle @genlossicle @boygirltitties @legendofscarf @voidless-screaming @lupvium @hecksee @blockofhoney

[nonotablechange]

cave paintings, a poem about c!Tommy's exploration of the caves of Pogtopia.

This was inspired by this post by @wadds-detour and @wormsinsdirt ! I saw it and was immediately struck by inspiration.

[awesomehoggirl]

ctubbo transcendentalist final girl poem

[painless-innit-colourful]

To L'Manberg! - a poem for her third birthday

Bring out the flags, bright colours once dulled And remade in the memory of an ideal world That would give to us all a life just and true Her funeral colours: black, yellow, red, white and blue

These patchwork pennants from old uniforms made Part of that old world we coveted, saved The best parts in memory, for they don't preserve here I can hardly believe that it's been three years

Since brotherhood and betrayal, since victory and loss And risking it all on one pitch and toss And winning again, despite all the death To disks and buttons, to holding your breath

We're back in the cycle: from August's second day Echoed in euphoria a million worlds away That shall last 'till the cheers of the young turn to shouts On a cold January evening, when the lights last go out

We don't shy from her name, nor stray from her path We partake in her patience, we share in her wrath We laugh and we party today, for we know We begin the slow march to Destruction again tomorrow

But, bear in her name, that familiar ache That made lives and hearts both beat and break To L'Manberg! That ideal built up for all to see That wasn't, shouldn't have been, was always meant to be

[cryingtulips]

cut open my heart, a c!Quackity poem about being loveless aro

Written for @mcyt-aro-week: day 2 (loveless)

[honeyblockm]

The Death Poem

Poems about every canon death on the Dream SMP, from the perspective of the killer, the person dying, or somewhere in between.

Part One: L'Manberg

8/2/2020: Eret betrays L'Manberg in the final control room • 8/2/2020: Tommyinnit bets L'Manberg's independence on a duel • 9/22/2020: Wilbur is killed shortly after his banishment • 10/16/2020: Tubbo is executed at the Red Festival • 10/17/2020: In the White House, Quackity fires a gun at JSchlatt • 11/16/2020: Jack Manifold is slain by Wilbur Soot • 11/16/2020: JSchatt swallows butane in the Camarvan • 11/16/2020: Wilbur Soot kills his country and then himself

Part Two: New L'Manberg

12/6/2020: Karl Jacobs stages his death in a bid for independence • 12/11/2020: Tommyinnit shoots down Jack Manifold • 12/13/2020: Mexican Dream is murdered • 1/14/2021: Vikkstar and Lazarbeam disappear, dying an unknown number of times over an unknown number of days • 1/?/2021: Punz and Dream kill and revive each other an unknown number of times • 12/16/2020: Technoblade takes an anvil to the head and lives • 12/16/2020: Quackity takes a pickaxe to the teeth • 1/6/2021: Jack Manifold falls into hell hours after doomsday • 1/20/21: Tommyinnit kills Dream twice, nearly three times

Part Three: Empowerment

3/1/2021: Tommyinnit dies for three days in Pandora’s Vault • 3/23/2021: Ponk loses an arm, then a life • 4/18/2021: Badboyhalo pushes Skeppy in • 4/25/2021: Foolish and Antfrost die in the fighting at the Red Banquet • 4/29/21: Ghostbur trades places • 9/14/2021: Slime takes a dip in lava

Part Four: Legacy

11/28/2021: Ranboo is cut down escaping • 2/4/2022: Awesamdude dies in Pandora’s Vault • 3/20/2022: Tubbo punches Aimsey off the Prime Path • 5/22/2022: Fundy jumps into the L’Mancrater • 8/10/2022: Connor seeks out the wrath of God • 9/10/2022: Quackity and Purpled take a dive off the top floor • 10/29/2022: The Egg hosts a party • 11/11/2022: Tubbo kills Dream • 11/13/2022: Jack sets off a nuke

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Hey, remember how angry c!Tommy was when Wilbur told him he was leaving?

I wrote a poem about it - ‘I never used to be this angry’

[saintashes]

PRELUDE: ON CONTAINING MULTITUDES. // c!quackity poetry. (click for full images and better quality)

text below :) feel free to reblog !!

PRELUDE: ON CONTAINING MULTITUDES.

the moon burns our souls

and the wind makes us sound distressed

MARBLE STATUE, WINE BOTTLE,

both some sort of fine-something

we begin to dig a HOLE in the GROUND

our  time  capsule  more  of  a  memory  burial

basking in idiotic fantasies,

sometimes  verging  on  PRAYER

we lift our hands and pray over your body

IT  MAKES  US  FEEL  ROTTEN!

the devil is lonely

we kicked out the devil     and it misses us

it keeps begging to be let back,

for us to     let  it  in

it’s waiting in the DARK

it’s waiting for your veins to feel a flash of life

   god loves you

   but not enough to save you

I WAS MY FIRST VICTIM

— AND NOW I AM MY LAST HOPE

places  where  reality  feels  ALTERED,

liminal earth, holy innocence, gentle sin,

eerie, uncanny, watch me   BLEED

you can feel yourself getting   SICKER

an in-between state of mind

uncomfortable and disorienting

TRAPPED IN YOUR HALLWAY,

can  you  hear  the  BUZZING?

maybe it sounds like  SWALLOWING GLASS!

   or  HUGGING GOD!

          or  SPILLING ACID!

                 or  STARTING A WAR!

                        or  PAINTING OUTSIDE THE LINES!

. . .

well it doesn’t matter in the end

because it’s all suffocating

and your throat burns and your head hurts

(   you  have  felt  what  it  feels  like

to  be  a  desperate  animal, is what i say,

with different words

DESPERATION   has seeped into your veins

through countless sharp   WOUNDS,

and it has made your CANINES LONGER

the insides of your THIGHS ROUGHER

your hair all the while whiter

    all   of   your   body   has   adapted

    to   survive   a   catastrophic   flood

but it never came

and  now  all  you  have  is  an  ark   )

like   a   dog   with   a   bird   at   your   door

i  will  bury  you  in  the  garden,

laying you where you are   LOVED

like   a   dog   taught   to   bite

i tripped on the urge to feel   ALIVE

to bloom is to kill and to be slain

let it out and hear it BELLOW,

let it SHRED through the cartilage of your ribs

let it feel like SWITCHING OFF a light

— the way night shreds moonlight

     RELISH   EVERY   ACHE

i’ll  eat  you  whole

i’ll  give  you  a  NAME  i  see  on  a  GRAVE

JANE DOE TURNED MARY SUE

wound  and  dagger!

blow  and  cheek!

members  and  wheel!

victim  and  executioner!

the moral of the story is that

   i am going to be your burning star

   and you are going to be my flickering lightbulb

and i will GUT you if i NEED to

i will carve my way OUT

with only my     TEETH

 .  .  .

YOU  CAN  ALSO  HAVE  MY  HEART

IF  YOU  HAVE  THE  STOMACH  TO  TAKE  IT

[dsmppoetryzine]

The Zine Is now up!

20+ artist and writers work together to make an AMAZING 90+ page Poetry Zine

I am so proud of everyone

The Zine is FREE so you can just put 0 in the price box

[antigo-nicks]

THIS IS NOT A LOVE LETTER — a c!wilbur piece

[cupcraft]

Inspired from this post

Quiet: a c!tommy exile poem (click for quality/click ao3 link for better reading)

I do not support cc!drm, this poem is about fictional characters of the DSMP

Rb if you like pleek :D!

Tag list:

@dykefoolish @whereisela @clingyduoapologist @boygirltitties @hecksee @lupvium @legendofscarf @xpoolboy @wiiwarechronicles @cishetctommy @blockofhoney @the-g-m @phantoids @tubborucho @blissfali

[aro-throughyourchest]

@utahlive kind of poem, I created it with the blog in mind, but it’s only taking like lore elements from them + some things I made up myself

Car Drive // A Utah Poem

Every time I drive

I’m reminded not to crash

(There’s a kid a thousand miles away who would kill me if I did. He can’t find me anymore.)

I’m reminded what real air smells like and not sulfur

(There’s a man a thousand miles away who used to smoke.)

I’m reminded what the I-95 feels like and how it feels to drive because I’ll never again be the man on the back of a stallion running my first country’s flag through an open field of haywire glee and pollen living on a single breath of air.

I’ll never be the man who ran river water through his hair raked it through his hands or hiked up the legs on his pants because I told you not to cross the stream but I damn well know you don’t listen to me (you listen to Quackity.)

But if I have to leave behind the man that smelled of sulfur and hard gunpowder, who bathed in it every morning along with the scent of paranoia and virulence, who lavished in the afternoon just to curse its existence by night, November 16th, then maybe that’s what I have to do.

Maybe I never lost him because he lives in charred cigarettes on my windowsill, there’s a kid who always told you to quit, he lives in my calendar marked with days I don’t know why I choose to reminisce on (what are you gonna do send him a post card? April 9th) he lives in the stitching I’ve failed so hard at because it always turns out yellow, red, and blue, I’m trying to stop but I can’t stop buying red, yellow, blue.

Maybe I should’ve thrown out the flag as soon as I could.

But every time I drive

I’m reminded what choice I made

to get in a car on I-95

turn my key in the ignition

Press the gas

and drive

it’s not a home in L’Manberg.

it’s just a beat up station wagon.

(your shift starts at 9:00)

[clingyduoapologist]

Branding A Heart On My Chest - An exile Arc focused c!Tommy poem.

It’s cold out here.

So so cold.

The breeze off the ocean chills me to my very bone.

You don’t allow me to patch my clothes.

And the blankets you give me are so thin.

And I’m so so cold.

But every few days you’d return.

And give me a great big hug.

You were always so warm.

As we hugged, the tips of your fingers would burn through my shirt.

And it hurt every time, but I was so cold. And you were so warm.

Too warm.

And as we’d pull apart, you’d hand me a hunk of red hot iron.

You’d say it’s for the cold.

You’d tell me to hold it close.

And in the dead of night I would clutch it tightly to my chest.

Searing my skin.

It hurts like hell.

But it kept away the cold.

You’d return in the morning to see me burned and blistered.

And you’d laugh.

Tell me it’s proof that the iron’s just what I’d needed.

I’d laugh too.

Because now you were on fire.

And you’d ruffle my hair and set it ablaze.

And the smoke would bring tears to my eyes.

And the smell would make me gag.

And everything hurt like hell.

But I wasn’t cold.

You’re truly too kind to me.

[awesomehoggirl]

ctubbo poem called POLITICAL CARTOONS -- about bad press and believing in it

[painless-innit-colourful]

old clothes - a c!tubbo poem about the finale

It's by chance you slip off the coat that day Old green shirt; just felt right that way Back to the way things used to be To see your best friend also in his old dress Rotting and faded from sickness and stress A pale imitation of the boy he once was If only you could change his mind like a shirt Wrap him in the coat, shelter him from hurt Take him home to the safety the snow once held But there's no mending frayed edges at this late hour And this latest blizzard blew out the power You only have one method of keeping him warm left