You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
—Mary Oliver, "Wild Geese"
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Mace: *dragging Kenobi and Vos out of the slam poetry night by their tunic collars and stops Tholme and Jinn from leaving them behind* No, you heard our rules after last week’s incident, they’ve been banned!
Qui-Gon: *ready to argue* What in the galaxy could my sweet baby padawan have done to get kicked out?
Tholme: I must admit, despite Jinn’s willful ignorance, I understand that mine could get banned, but he never mentioned it so I would like to know what he did.
Mace: Obi-Wan wrote a poem about a galaxy wide war that gave seventeen people True Visions and I had a shatterpoint migraine till last night. So for him it’s either me or him in that room and I’m the host so it’s me.
Qui-Gon: *taking a sheepish Obi-Wan into his arms for a pity cuddle cause that poem had led to like four straight days of council sessions and an enslaved Dathomiri child being found in a senator’s house on Naboo* To be fair. Obi-Wan had some good points.
Tholme: I’m scared to ask. What did mine do?
Mace: He didn’t write a poem so he went up to the mic and started licking it. It was the most disgusting noise I ever heard. If he gets near a mic I might have to drop kick him. Safer for him out here.
Tholme: *deep sigh of sadness* Yeah that sounds like something he’d do.
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Henri Michaux, from Five Poems by Henri Michaux; "Repose In Unhappiness"
Text ID: I am the ruin you made.
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George Seferis, from Collected Poems (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: Now I long for a little quiet
all I want is a hut on a hill
or near a sea-shore
all I want in front of my window
is a sheet immersed in bluing
spread there like the sea]
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Poem by M. A. Thompson - I Won’t Write My Poem ‘Till I’m In My Right Mind
click images for better quality!
I'm so proud of this. my favorite frame to make was the fredbear one. that lighting is so fun to do :] the fnaf 6 michael one is a close 2nd!
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Henri Michaux, from Five Poems by Henri Michaux; "Repose In Unhappiness"
Text ID: Into your light, [...] I abandon myself.
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