#poetry-craft

[thepersonalwords]

I is for immortality, which for some poets is a necessary compensation. Presumably miserable in this life, they will be remembered when the rest of us are long forgotten. None of them asks about the quality of that remembrance--what it will be like to crouch in the dim hallways of somebody's mind until the moment of recollection occurs, or to be lifted off suddenly and forever into the pastures of obscurity. Most poets know better than to concern themselves with such things. They know the chances are better than good that their poems will die when they do and never be heard of again, that they'll be replaced by poems sporting a new look in a language more current. They also know that even if individual poems die, though in some cases slowly, poetry will continue: that its subjects, it constant themes, are less liable to change than fashions in language, and that this is where an alternate, less lustrous immortality might be. We all know that a poem can influence other poems, remain alive in them, just as previous poems are alive in it. Could we not say, therefore, that individual poems succeed most by encouraging revisions of themselves and inducing their own erasure? Yes, but is this immortality, or simply a purposeful way of being dead?

Mark Strand, The Weather of Words: Poetic Inventions

[poempoetryandmore]

i think i‘ll always love you

even if its just a little bit

ten years from now a piece of my heart will still beat for you

maybe its the curiosity of ,what if‘

or maybe its the emptiness speaking

but nomatter why,

i‘ll always love you

[anteomnia]

just endlessly thinking about blue eye samurai.

thinking about how akemi, taigen, and mizu are if a coin had three sides or maybe just the two and mizu is the bridge of metal between them.

akemi being the ideal image for women, for the life they endure. she was simultaneously a princess, a prostitute, and a prisoner. her entire life was men making decisions for her, even the ones that had good intentions, and she believed her deepest desire was freedom. it still is, but she has been revealed to this heinous predicament of her gender, and she’s realized that to reach true freedom as a woman is to be the bird in the cage, to play nice and to earn the love of a man until he buys her a bigger cage and a bigger cage until he trusts her not to fly away. and it'll never be true freedom, but it will come with power. it'll come with the freedom of only one master rather than many.

taigen being the ideal image of a man. not all powerful, but not weak. he had a taste of what it'd be to succeed, and when it was taken from him, that easy success, he mistook it for his honor. he hunted mizu down to kill him, and instead he saved him. he saved him and saved him and he came closer to killing mizu when they were on the cliff's edge, and just when he gets to the point where he may actually fight mizu, he's tortured for information on him. he is tortured. Literally tortured within an inch of his life, enduring such a heinous violence, and he refuses to break. this man was a fight, was the torturer, and the victim of his torturing could've been his salvation from pain but he refused. mizu gave back taigen's honor but not by fighting him.

akemi wanted freedom and learned she would need power to have it.

taigen wanted power and learned that the violence that came with it was infinite and dishonorable.

and then there's mizu. mizu who wants revenge, wants acceptance. arguably the same things as them both. mizu wants acceptance, the freedom of living and the freedom to love and be loved. mizu wants revenge, which follows after violence and power, to get said acceptance. she thinks she must do both, have both, to live peacefully, and she's blatant about how she will not live without either.

she's given acceptance with the blacksmith, her "mother," her husband, but she sees the flecks of avoidance in it.

the blacksmith will not hear of her true gender. her "mother" will not acknowledge the crime of her birth. her husband can't find tolerance for the violence within her, the man of her.

and so she has to balance the woman and man of her, the ronin and the bride. taigen and akemi. and it's meeting mizu that they start to unravel their own identities.

mizu, who is both, and akemi and taigen who thought themselves one but turned out to be neither.

god.

[llovelymoonn]

noor hindi fuck your lecture on craft, my people are dying

kofi

[a-wizard]

That time I made a book out of an old pair of shoes, about an old pair of shoes, and a friend I don't talk to anymore.

Here is the text, since I know its difficult to read: "I used to have a pair of shoes I liked,

but they started falling apart after a few months.

I wasn't ready to let them go.

So I fixed them again,

and again,

and again,

until there was nothing left to fix

until my feet got soaked in damp grass.

That's what it was like,

being friends with you."

(I also tried doing alt text for the first time, let me know if I can do anything to improve it.)

[ecofriendlyfreak]

Someone brought this up on instagram, so now I'm curious how things overlap.

There is no "I just like answering polls" option here because, as a good scientist, I don't want to deal with junk data. Please reblog for a larger sample size!

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

[melaninmuse-art]

Afrobrella

[kvothes]

he just really gets it, man (x)

[dire-wolf-days]

Sending love to the therian who isn’t active in the community. You are still wonderful and appreciated.

Sending love to the therian who is active in the community. I hear you and you bring me hope.

Sending love to the therian who can’t do quadrobics for whatever reason. You are a valid and valued member of this community.

Sending love to the therian who does do quadrobics. You impress me every day.

Sending love to the therian with an uncommon theriotype. You are more than every second guess. You contain multitudes.

Sending love to the therian with a common theriotype. You are more than one in a million. You contain multitudes.

Sending love to the therian with many theriotypes. Don’t let anyone invalidate your experience.

Sending love to the therian with (one or) a small number of theriotypes. You are wonderful.

Sending love to the therian with a supportive irl community. I’m so glad others get to see how wonderful you are.

Sending love to the therian without a supportive irl community. We are here. We are here for you and we love you.

Sending love to the therian without gear. You’re blinding me with your awesomeness.

Sending love to the therian with gear. You’re blinding me with your awesomeness.

Sending love to the therian who has it all figured out. I am in awe of the being you have become.

Sending love to the therian who isn’t quite sure yet who they are, I see you.

And I love you all <3

[karis-the-fangirl]

I’m too impatient to take decent pictures, look at this stupid object I made, I’m going to leave it in the poetry section of my library

LOOK ON MY WORKS, YE MIGHT, AND DESPAIR

[poempoetryandmore]

„we are a lot better at wanting each other, than having each other“

[itstimeforstarwars]

How-to craft books from the 70s are always a riot. Chapter one is like “here are the bare minimum instructions for how to get started with half the details missing cuz obviously every young girl and woman already knows this” and the rest of the book is patterns with no pictures that have abbreviations with no key as to what they mean because obviously even the stupidest girl alive in the 70s knows what “ring 6ds, 3p separated by 6ds ea, 6ds, close” means.

[trickstersaint]

fr though you have to write bad poetry. poems are not handed down to you fully formed by god they are things that you have to work on and practice your skill at creating. nobody would expect you to sit down at a pottery wheel and end up with a perfect vase with no practice. it's a skill! art is a learned thing!! you have to make the shitty little pots with dents and marks and your fingerprints all over them in order to get better. and you're allowed to be proud of those first little pots you made too

[rhymingtherapy]

I’ve been busy

crafting holiday gifts—

sculpting delicate hearts

from air dry clay;

reflecting on friendships

near & far—

acquaintances who left

& soulmates who stayed;

tying satin bows &

stringing wooden beads;

painting shimmering stars

to hang on glittering trees;

there’s much to do

before another year

recedes from view…

& next December

comes round again.

@RhymingTherapy—December 2023 (my photos)

[soracities]

Poetry is not a career — it is a state of being. You become poetry or are in a state of becoming with poetry. My chronological map of becoming would not be linear, rather it has been crisscrossed with arcs of events, poems, poets, arts, music, all bound and directed by history and memory.

Joy Harjo, from "The Craft of Writing: Joy Harjo on listening and writing with intention"