#rage poems

[bambiali]

[ce-archerhelke]

(via The Sealey Challenge: And God Created Women)

[lovely-abeille]

glass, irony and good, anne carson // margaret atwood // enough, suzanne buffam // linnea paskow // in conversation: kathleen turner, david marchese // haunted womanhood, heather havrilesky // where to begin, sue zhao // the stream of life, clarice lisepector

[fuckingwhateverdude]

12.17.23

[moonlitfairytale]

Lidia Yuknavitch, from Letter to My Rage: An Evolution

[missnarcissistsworld]

In the depths of my being, a tempest roars, Rage, an inferno that consumes and soars. A storm of emotions, turbulent and wild, Unleashing fury, an untamed child.

With fiery eyes and a heart ablaze, Rage courses through me, in myriad ways. It's the thunderous crackle in my voice, The searing passion, my soul's own choice.

A symphony of anger, notes piercing the air, Rage, a primal force that I dare not spare. It fuels my spirit, ignites my will, A burning energy I cannot still.

In the chaos of rage, I seek clarity, To rise above the fury, with integrity. To temper the flames, find balance within, And let rage be a catalyst, not just a din.

[intergalacticgoose]

From @nicothepoet

[haleyincarnate]

Quote by Ari Cofer

[angelinthesnow666]

[elizabugz]

Little Red Riding Wolf - Jason Schneiderman / x / Black Iris - Leah Raeder / Gleinpir - Walton Ford / x / 940 Main Street - Erin Moran / Doctor Who s1e13 / Ghismomda With The Heart Of Guiscardo - Bernardino Mei / Friends Forever - Wayne McKenzie / The Beast - Frank Bidart

[feral-harvest]

"We are a tick on the skin of this sleeping beast. I know what we are. And we breed, raise, teach... Increase"

— Carolina Outcrop, "Woman"

[bladeee4heart]

Same with movies

[metamorphesque]

— a prayer, tathève simonyan

[text ID: a prayer / i look up at God and see my ceiling staring back at me. / whimpered prayers leaving through the gates of my lips, ricocheting and landing right onto my eyes. / now everything i see is tainted with the colors of my pending longings. / a desire so raw you could still see the specks of blood gathering at seams. / a prayer … / a man on his knees in front of a woman, hands on her hips, holding the cathedral that was neither built nor can be destroyed / lips kissing the source of life / lips kissing the source of light / lips kissing / a   prayer! – a body to crawl into! (to grow into?) / a prayer! – a dead language we refuse to let go of, / a language of the dead that we refuse to let go of / a prayer! – Grandpa’s favorite tie, hanging from the bedroom door, decades after he passed / because my Grandma was the only one of us who knew what a prayer was / a prayer! – Grandma: “sitting with someone until they finish their meal is the purest sign of love” / a prayer! – i’ll sit with you till the very last sip, till the very last grain / a prayer! – a hymn to the Sun written by the coldest of hands / a prayer! – a mouth full of tongues that can never find the right language to weep in / Rage, that is love – rotten! / Rage, that is desire – rotten! / Rage! – like a prayer, unanswered, ricocheting from your ceiling and landing right onto your eyes, never quite reaching where it was meant to.]

[lovely-abeille]

Can I request a webweave about love, rage and overall strong emotions?

romance, elaine kahn // schuyler peck // judas, k. wright // angels in america, tony kushner // poem of the end, marina tsvetaeva // a prayer, tathève simonyan

[rosebud-poet]

[Black text on a white background that reads:

my gender is whatever makes me easiest to kill,

my gender is breeding stock, kill all men, can’t you just stay unobtrusive and neutral, the question cut apart in debate chambers, my ragged flesh and bones picked for statistics and arguments by vultures in suits who go home to too-young wives, breathing out my same old screams to useless onlookers sitting in rows, you’re disgusted by my blood on the floor but unwilling to shoot down what’s killing me slowly, what are the magic words i need to say to get you to care that i’m dying, 

my gender is polite young woman in a pantsuit long long dead, forward-thinking and modern, isn’t it funny that she lived as a man, she wanted better opportunities, we dug up the body and passed it around the archives and if you look here you’ll see the place where they cut out the most important parts, so sad to see such irreversible damage, so sad she never had children, so sad she was mutilated, but she was such a trailblazer, the first woman to put a bullet in a state senator’s head,

my gender is a bullet in a state senator’s head, shooting down vultures before they break my sibling’s skin, crippled tranny faggot (triple threat) with a score to settle, with a gash down the center of its chest spitting fire through pharmacy phone lines, never fucked someone who wasn’t an enemy of the state, never was your little girl, sticking around till the bitter end and triple dog dare you to come bash me yourself you bloody-beaked coward, come watch me be the monster you all say i am,

my gender is whatever makes me hardest to kill.]

[kristina-del-rey]

𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁

𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒