#this poem made me think of them

[slicedmayonnaise]

Probably friends, possibly lovers, but definitely not nothing

Those were the three thoughts in my mind the first time your path crossed mine

When I saw those bright brown eyes for the first time

Then I learned your favorite color

And realized how easily you could paint a smile across my serious disposition

I started practicing learning you

Thinking about you a little to much in my spare time

Then the three thoughts changed

Probably lovers, possibly friends, but definitely not nothing.

Then things started to change

I realized the love only went one way

I started anticipating the feeling of you pulling away

Your sentences became shorter

As my grip became stronger on a love that was falling through my finger tips

You took my smile as easily as you had given it

Then the three thoughts chimed in my mind one more time

Probably nothing, Possibly friends,

But definitely not LOVERS.

the photos btw

[likeafairytale]

Beau Taplin • I n t i m a c y

[justalittlechocolatemilkshake]

Oh my god I’m reading The Pairing and did not know we would get dual POVS.

Kit is breaking my fucking heart rn.

[squash1]

trk / the orange by wendy cope / bllb

[recurring-polynya]

i want the boots rukia is wearing in this color spread more than anything

[ilovedthestars]

here's the thing. yes, some pieces of art are "better" than others. there are many criteria you can measure that with--technical skill, creativity, clarity, conceptual depth, successful execution of the artist's intentions, etc., and i do think it's useful to clarify which ones you're using as a measuring stick. but like, of course you can evaluate art. of course you can be critical (in the "art critic" sense) of art. (among other things, that's one of the most important ways to get better at making art yourself.)

however. when it comes down to evaluating what gets to count as art. what art even gets to have a seat at the table. i will go to bat for the thing that isn't as "good" every single time.

you can say you think a piece of art is bad. you can say you think it lacked technical skill, or clarity, or conceptual depth, and you consider those important elements of a successful work. i might even agree with you. but if you think that means it doesn't matter, someone is going to die on this hill and it isn't going to be me

[paintbrushinacoffeecup]

Oh Mother, Mother… Mother of Me.

When you were me, this world was ending. Violence echoed in every hall – every mountain, every valley was a warzone. Your mother gave you the directive to continue it, and what else were you meant to do? You did what your mother told you, echoing the same touch of gunmanship that your mothers birthed you to taste.

Oh Mother, Mother… Mother of Me.

I envy how much you saw the sky, with how little you cared for it. You lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow. Your head could never reach the clouds as mine does, and yet, the smog that covers my eyes banishes the hope of ever calling myself belonging to the Earth I was named for. Instead of seeing the sun, I carry your achievements on my back, the last sons of all. 

Oh Mother, Mother… Mother of Me.

You are like a sister to me – fathers differing in three. Yours, mine, and The Heavenly. I feel the panels on my head shutting down, my legs buckling as my spear raises. I feel our connection in this act, though I never once met you, mother. You were perfect in your creation, your mechanic forging each metal plate with tedious care. You carried the coffin on your back with love and guilt, the most agonizing emotions we were left with. 

Oh Mother, Mother… Mother of Me.

I must take up my quarrel with the foe. Nameless, faceless. Designed by sisters of mine that were never born by humanity’s hand, but instead, by yours. The same shapes, the same goal – without purpose. My only natural talent is wasted as blood is siphoned from your mother, the sky too filled with the remnants of wars too old to remember, and too new to forget. 

I envy how much you saw the sky. I am dying, no Nessus to protect me from the violence we have created… the era you had birthed with the blood on your back and shield in your hand. I am a redundancy incarnate, and I pray, mother, that I will meet you. I shall be the very image of shame the bull was to the King of Crete. 

Oh Mother, Mother… Mother of Me,

you belong to the gutter you were named for, I will utter, as I crumble in cascade to the ground.

[thealternatemind]

“but if you love us

choose a younger bed

for i cannot bear

to live with you when i am the older one”

- sappho fr. 121, as translated by anne carson

[northern-passage]

i wrote a 500 word dynamic poem for neo-twiny jam :-)

i rewrote this in a few different ways with a handful of different drafts before settling on just doing a poem; this originally came from a full branching narrative i've had stewing for a while, and i might come back to it one day. but for now i enjoyed channeling that into this poem, which has also been very influenced by the fact that i've been writing hungry vampires for almost 2 months now.... it was also my first time messing with audio in twine, which ended up being way easier than i expected (i'm sure it helped that i only used one audio sample tho)

faith does contain sexual content, and while not super explicit, it is the main theme of the poem.

anyways hope you enjoy and check out the other entries here!

[robinsversion]

I was rewatching hbomb’s video for the millionth time yesterday and the line “I don’t know why anyone would make video essays like this unless they were strictly in it for the money” stood out to me because if you replace “make video essays” with “write poetry” that perfectly describes my thoughts about Rupi Kaur.

[fruitbythefoot7]

i still think about this

[cashmere-caveman]

My Country: The New Age, first and last episodes & Hanif Abdurraqib, For The Dogs Who Barked At Me On The Sidewalks in Connecticut (text/audio) image descriptions in alt

[camgoloud]

look it’s not really that i wish i was in a relationship because the last couple of years which i have spent firmly and resolutely single after finally getting over the All That which went down between me and the last person i had any serious romantic interest in have been without question the happiest years of my life. and it’s also not really that i wish all of my friends WEREN’T in relationships because i want them to be happy et cetera et cetera. but this whole thing where both situations are happening at the same time (i.e. me: single; literally every one of them: not) does have me feeling a little. weird i guess.

[fadeintoyou1993]

friend ive lowkey had a crush on since i was like 13 and was one of the main reasons why i even figured out im gay in high school did a showering together joke to me earlier in the night and im still recovering from it

[slow-clap-processors]

Artemis

Chell said nothing.

And that was her choice.

But if she had the last word, she’d say:

“Yes.”

“You didn’t ask,

If I wanted to go;

Not that I’m going to correct you.

Because if I had a voice it would be screaming,

I deserve better.

"It’s no wonder the portals are orange and blue,

One behind my eyes and one inside you;

Gateways leading to different parts of the same room

We both know how this puzzle is solved;

Just look away,

A click of the gun and it’s finished.

The sound of the radio echoing after my footsteps.

"I am a predator and these tests are my prey-

That’s what you said. I don’t know what to say.

A huntress? oh please,

You make me sputter in outrage and weak in the knees-

I always knew the cake was a lie.

Don’t worry.

No one was fooled by my act either.

"I am the moon, and I am not.

They banished me there and I have turned it against them.

I love it like a crow loves it’s nest,

High in a maple tree,

Fabricated from plastics and pure poison.

What I mean is, I’m used to bad dreams,

Limited breath, and things which are not as they seem.

"I don't sleep, which is fine

I don't prefer my nights to be restful;

Maybe I should.

But maybe instead,

You could turn off the emancipation grill,

And we could grow seedlings in the companion cubes

So they'll always have someone to sing to them.

"Don’t scrape the floors

Of the vines and trees,

Don’t wash away your scars for me.

I will banish the crows, but don’t ask me

To sing for you.

Don’t look at me like they do,

Like i’m some slice of delicious

Vanilla,

Crazy,

Cake-

I promise, I don’t taste nice.

"Notice how you never use my name?

Look me in the eyes,

Coward, Titan, I know

Your cameras will never let you forget.

A girl could never dream of a prettier headstone."

GLaDOS’s sister poem: Prometheus

[her-canine-teeth]

bad astrology by flower face