#this is poetry to me

[solsticat]

around a year ago I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was hiking and stumbled off a cliff. I managed to grab into a ledge, but I was hyper aware that eventually I would lose hold of it and fall to my death. I just sat there holding the ledge for a while thinking about everything I was never able to do, the conversations I never had, and how badly I wanted to live. Eventually I came to terms with my untimely death and accepted that there was nothing I could change, and it wasn't really okay, but it would have to be okay, and I'd had a good life. If nothing else, I was glad for the life I had been able to have. I wanted my last thoughts to be peaceful. I was about ready to let go when my family came along and rescued me. Some other stuff happened after that. Then I woke up and let me tell you I had a Bad Day. How are you even supposed to act normal after that.

[bitchofthewest]

they kiss now. these two? they are girlfriends and they kiss

*taps mic* can you hear me

[tomoyoo]

For about six months, I've been musing over my life and death... And how it will affect a friend of mine. I am aware that I am only an adolescent, and I know that my youthful love will be cast aside by him in the face of the obvious— it's asexual, inexplicable nature

[esrah-rah-rasputin]

Someone's getting poetic in the academic research study today

[ID: a screenshot of a section of a study. The highlighted portion reads, "This process is the “ancient” chemical reaction, which was characteristic at the beginning of the evolution of the life, when the oxygen, the general electron acceptor, was available only in a small amount in the atmosphere." /End ID]

[glitterslag]

No more winter says mother. Spring has sprung

[verymuchablog42]

this snap my friend just sent me has me tearing up

[drowningincaffiene]

Slides in with a steaming pot hiiii dyou wanna listen to depressing music and uncover the truth of the world through butter chicken & naan

therws something so mysterious abt butter chicken, why is it called butter chicken when butter is rarely used, why did i not eat butter chicken today, i love butter chicken and naan, i miss them sooooo much

[daisychainsandbowties]

What do you know of divine love?

The question is perhaps meant to haunt Lilith. It does not.

The only thing that haunts Lilith is sweet nettle tea.

The love in that tea was greater than any, divine or otherwise.

What do you know of divine love?

The question is simple to Camila.

All love is divine.

anon i don’t know what to say. this is very very beautiful. the line ‘this question is perhaps meant to haunt Lilith. It does not’…. going to stay with me for a long time.

thinking on sweetness as love, this made me think of Persimmons by Li-Young Lee. i feel that poem has the same energy as this ❤️

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

lesbian in texas desperate to figure out how she got there and is documenting the process

real

[tigerjpg]

nothing makes me go "ooooh we are NOT the same" quite like reading some post about how people talk with their parents about their interests. what do you mean you told your father about stevebucky. what do you mean he asked further questions

[solsticat]

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[somberous]

Sylvia Plath, from Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices [ID in alt text]

[sellingsecrets]

[soracities]

Jeremy Radin, from "Lazar Wolf the Butcher" (poem written during staging of Fiddler on the Roof at Paper Mill Playhouse, shared on his IG page) [ID'd]

[skoolweirdo]

Amazing things happening in the flat earth debate realm