#metered poems

[buglarvainspector]

Weighted noon haze of the mid-Summer Winter

Flood the broad bay with a light burnished gold.

Halcyon days later draw down in honey,

Payment in kind for a few days of cold.

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

Won't You Stay?

Won’t you stay a little longer,

When the night is draped in stars?

In the quiet, we grow stronger,

As the world forgets its scars

Won’t you stay as morning tiptoes,

Painting gold across the land?

In the quiet, where the wind blows,

Let me hold your gentle hand

Won’t you stay as hours wander,

Through the canvas of the day?

In the stillness, growing fonder,

Let the world just drift away

Won't you stay until the last light,

Fades into the night’s embrace?

In your eyes, I see the starlight,

That no darkness can erase

Won't you stay here in my arms

In this fragile, fleeting now?

In this love, away from harm,

Let's forget the why and how

Won’t you stay, until forever,

Till the clocks no longer chime?

In this bond, no force can sever,

Won’t you stay, beyond all time?

-

final fifteen + crowley asking questions+ unbreakable bond = foolproof recipe for breaking my heart :')

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙

hi bestiess @crowleys-hips @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @goodomensafterdark @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy @marika-misc @captainblou @weasleywrinkles @chaoticgayomens @amagnificentobsession @thebookshoparoundthecorner @quintessentiallychemical @naturallyteal

ao3 link:

[haridraws]

Inversnaid - Gerard Manley Hopkins

a patron told me a drawing I did reminded them of this poem (enormous compliment) and I love it immensely, so wanted to post it with a river drawing collection.

These drawings were made in various parts of Scotland, climbing down to get closer to the bank and painted with river water. None of them are the exact stream at Inversnaid this poem is about, but none are very far away - the middle is one that eventually leads into the same loch.

The UK is one of the most nature-depleted countries in the world. Awareness and efforts to rewild and preserve pockets of ancient woodland like these are growing here, if slowly. Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

[bernardellinewsagency]

If I weren't already so busy with other fics, I would absolutely start a new one where Sunday joins the Stellaron Hunters after the events of the Penacony quests, except it's not told from his POV.

It's Robin's.

The story would progress through her having to resume her normal life, despite how upheaved everything has just been. She's supposed to tour throughout the galaxy, continue coming out with more music, star on talk shows and be seen by her fans, none of that can stop jus so that she can process things. She probably wouldn't even know that Sunday joined the Stellaron Hunters until someone else finds out, and surprises her with a question about it during an interview or something.

Sunday's story would be told through the scraps of information she can get, on how she closely watches the bounty that the IPC places on him and how it grows over time, scrambling for any hint of his continued presence in this world that she can find just to know that he's still doing okay. Her memories of him would be interspersed throughout, reflections of the kind and caring brother that she can't quite reconcile with the actions he took (but also probably wouldn't stop blaming herself for. If only she hadn't left, if only the Charmony dove didn't try to fly).

I love doomed sibling relationships in media and yes, I was reading Emily Dickinson's ""Hope" is the thing with feathers" and thinking of these two with the lines "And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard/and sore must be the storm -/that could abash the little Bird/that kept so many warm -" because I was imagining Sunday as the mentioned bird and Robin not understanding how anyone could be mean to him because she's the only one who could even come close to knowing him, she's his sister, she remembers when they were little kids and he made that stage and an audience of stuffed animals for the performance that she still holds closest to her heart. She remembers the brother who wanted what's best for the injured dove, and who agreed with her dreams of wanting to help people. He may have changed, but he will always be her brother, even if every time she hears news about him now she'll have to silently pray to Xipe that it's not going to be about his death.

[fictionadventurer]

NaPoWriMo #31: A poem that begins at the end of something, then moves backwards

Orpheus

He loved And looked And sealed her doom Forever now the widowed groom

He loved And looked Through death's domain And swore he'd bring her home again

He loved And looked As died the wife Too quickly taken from this life

He loved And looked And wed the bride He vowed to keep safe at his side

At his first sight The beauty there Devotion sparked Beyond compare

He lost, yet knew the gift she was And all because He looked And loved

[calamitys-child]

Something something the curtains are blue or whatever but underappreciated media analysis phenomenon is when someone else reads something you wrote and points out the blue curtains that you hadn't even noticed yourself hanging up while you built it. Like fuck they sure are I genuinely hadn't noticed I just flung em up I was concentrating on the carpet. Hey that shade of blue goes nice with the carpet huh. I should get more decor in that colour. Does this make sense to anyone

[capt-t-leela]

Ugh, enough emotions.

My sweet goof bag of a husband planned a family camping trip over the nearest thing I have to a religious event (the Futurama season premiere), so since we live in the Pacific Northwest (aka Bigfoot Territory), I figured the only reasonable thing to do was to recreate Leela’s camping outfit from Spanish Fry and try to get some out of focus, grainy footage of that gentle Sasquatch / make sure my husband leaves the woods holding onto his lower horn [it’s used to it - WOOOOO].

[florenceisfalling]

the furious, quick-foot flow of time

cannot be stopped by song or rhyme

nor mournful thought of yesteryear

subdued by mind's cheap souvenirs

yet as i lay me down to sleep

i've got my promises to keep

so happy birthday unto me

make this one gentle, finally

[blueberryspyder]

I’m sure somebody’s already done this but I wanted to just compile The Victim’s rambling/poem here. I’ll add IDs when I’m off work, but below the cut is their part of episode 15

And a bonus (my favorite line so far)

[septembersung]

[willknightauthor]

THE BEGGAR

[buglarvainspector]

Last lessons of the dance instructor

1.

Head up, dears, the art is finding

art for art's sake 'mid the binding

tempo, tempo, all unwinding,

while you dance. Revolt, and fly.

Capture movement, Earth has tied you

to itself. Head up! Decide you

will not heed tunes that misguide you.

Let your motions tell you why.

Earth desires you. Find the sky.

2.

Back straight, now. Be queenly, kingly.

Though strength may be weakening we

cannot break, for menacingly

time devours you, if you yield.

Find the tempo, tempo folding,

pleasure those who are beholding.

Gravity is always scolding,

beauty, then, must be your shield -

center stage, your battlefield.

3.

Eyes inward - disregard the staring,

longing eyes, the soft despairing.

It is discipline's red herring,

ammunition made of pride.

Tempo, tempo, mem'ry beats it -

only giving in defeats it.

Lessons fade, but life repeats it:

find the music trapped inside.

Dance to love, to fly, to hide.

©2013 Sara Taylor

[saintgreyhound]

journaling

(feat. pics I took of part of my most recent journal entry with my pilot g.2 pen, my half-smoked pack of marlboro golds, the wrapper from a chocolate bar I recently ate, and my complaints about vergil's use of dactylic hexameter)

[creatediana]

I read and read, like Prospero— the magic still escapes me, though.

"No Duke" - a couplet written 7/10/2024

[fridayyy-13th]

just wrote a poem about platonic love and amatonormativity and turned it in for an assignment. the metaphor i used could not be more straightforward. let's see how it gets misconstrued in class tomorrow.

[fictionadventurer]

NaPoWriMo #15: A poem of at least ten lines where all lines start with the same word

Because

Because man doubted God, he ate the apple. Because man sinned, the garden gates were barred. Because Abram showed faith, God promised glory Because his sons would outnumber the stars.

Because they cried, God led them out of Egypt. Because He swept the sea, they passed dry-shod. Because they sinned, He gave them the commandments Because the Law helps man relate to God.

Because they feared the giant, God sent David. Because the shepherd trusted, he was king. Because the kingdom fell, God vowed salvation Because a savior from this stump would spring.

Because the virgin loved, she gave her fiat. Because she did, the Word became a man. Because she asked, her son made wine from water Because it was a sign of God's great plan.

Because the crowds were lost, He came and taught them. Because they starved, He gave them holy bread. Because the sick believed in Him, He healed them. Because they died, He raised them from the dead.

Because He was betrayed, He was arrested. Because He claimed God's name, they struck Him down. Because He claimed to be a king, they scourged Him. Because they mocked, He wore a thorn-filled crown.

Because the crowds demanded it, they hung Him. Because He loved, He offered no complaint. Because it was the will of God, He suffered Because it would atone for Adam's taint.

Because He died, the world did shake and darken. Because He died, they laid Him in a grave. Because all hope seemed lost, his friends all sorrowed Because it seemed He'd lost his chance to save.

Because He was God's Son, He rose victorious Because He had defeated death's domain. Because the women came, they found Him risen. Because He rose, He will forever reign.

Because of all Your faithfulness I praise You Because You showed Your Love through years of strife. Because You rose, I sing with great rejoicing Because You give your people lasting life.