#ughhhh this poem

[queenlucythevaliant]

Time to share another of my favorite Christian poems with you all. It’s a martyrdom poem by Varlam Shalamov, a victim of the Soviet gulags and also the writer of Kolyma Tales. A few favorite stanza are written out here; the entire poem is typed out below. It’s a little on the long end, but entirely worth it. 

“Avvakum in Pustozyorsk” by Varlam Shalamov

The walls of my church

  are the ribs of my heart;

it seems life and I

  are soon bound to part

 .

My cross now rises,

  traced with two fingers.

In Pustozyorsk it blazes;

  its blaze will linger.

 .

I’m glorified everywhere,

  vilified, branded;

I have already become

  the stuff of legend.  

 .

I was, people say,

  full of anger and spite;

I suffered, I died

  for the ancient rite.

 .

But this popular verdict

  is ugly nonsense;

I hear and reject

  the implied censure.

 .

The rite is nothing—

  neither wrong nor right;

a rite is a trifle

  in God’s sight.

 .

But they attacked our faith

  in the ways of the past,

in all we’d learned as children

  and taken to heart.

 .

In their holy garments,

  in their grand hats,

with a cold crucifix

  in their cold hands,

 .

in thrall to a terror

  clutching their souls,

they drag us to jails

  and herd us to scaffolds.

 .

We don’t mind about the doctrine

  books and their age;

we don’t debate virtues

  of fetters and chains.

 .

Our dispute is of freedom,

  and the right to breathe—

about the Lord’s will

  to bind as he please.

 .

The healers of souls

  chastised our bodies;

while they schemed and plotted,

  we ran to the forests.

 .

Despite their decrees,

   we hurled our words

out of the lion’s mouth

  and into the world.

 .

We called for just vengeance

  against their sins;

along with the Lord,

   we sang poems and hymns.

 .

The words of the Lord

  were claps of thunder.

The Church endures;

   it will never go under.

 .

And I, unyielding,

  reading the Psalter,

was brought to the gates

  of the Andronikov Monastery.

 .

I was young;

  I endured every pain:

hunger, beatings,

  interrogations.

 .

A winged angel

  shut the eyes of the guard,

brought me cabbage soup,

  and a hunk of bread.

 .

I crossed the threshold—

  and I walked free.

Embracing my Exile,

  I walked to the east.

 .

I held services

   by the Amur River,

where I barely survived

  the winds and blizzards.

 .

They branded my cheeks

  with brands of frost;

by a mountain stream

  they tore out my nostrils.

 .

But the path to the Lord

  goes from jail to jail;

the path to the Lord

  never changes.

 .

And all too few,

  since Jesus’s days,

have proved able to bear

  God’s all-seeing gaze.

 .

Nastasia, Nastasia,

  do not despair;

true joy often wears

  a garment of tears.

 .

Whatever temptations

  may beat in your heart,

whatever torments

  may rip you apart,

 .

walk on in peace,

  through a thousand troubles

and fear not the serpent

  that bites at your ankles—

 .

though not from Eden

  has this snake crawled;

it is an envoy of evil

  from Satan’s hand.

 .

Here, birdsong

  is unknown;

here one learns the patience

  and the wisdom of stone.

 .

I have seen no color

  except lingonberry

in fourteen years

  spent as a prisoner.

 .

But this is not madness,

  nor a waking nightmare;

it is my soul’s fortress,

  its will and freedom.

 .

And now they are leading me

  far away in fetters;

my yoke is easy

  and my burden grows lighter.

 .

My track is swept clean

  and dusted with silver;

I’m climbing to heaven

  on wings of fire.

 .

Through cold and hunger,

  through grief and fear

towards God, like a dove,

  I will rise from the pyre.

 .

O far-away Russia—

  I give you my vow

to return to the sky

  forgiving my foe.

 .

May I be reviled,

  and burned at the stake;

may my ashes be cast

  on the mountain wind.

 .

There is no fate sweeter,

  no better end,

than to knock, as ash,

  at the door of the human heart.

[pyunyrage]

I decided he wasn't the one the second time I saw him

still I clinged on for dear life as if love could change him fundamentally

as if being loved could change my fundamental belief that I'm broken from the womb

if desire could change my mind it would've changed it by hour two

unfortunately I like who I am when I'm with you.

[stardustmuseum]

THERE ARE SO MANY LIVES I WANT TO LIVE BUT NOT ENOUGH TIME

[shadowviixen]

Can't believe I express my inner rage as a burning passion of working more until I feel tired and burnt-out in order to defuse all of the pent-up aggression

[tonedeafworld]

humanity escapes my body through an open wound

[gorillaxyz]

last night i was sad because im autistic and no one around me has the same niche interests and i dont really have any proper friends. but now im thinking 😒 if no one near me fucks with richard nixon or my oc x canon/self shipping REALNESS or anything else about me then maybe nobody here deserves me

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[q-starhalo]

OH WHEN I GET THAT GUY.

[beyond-the-raining-field]

I hate it

I hate you

I want to be there for you

I want to comfort you

I find myself running from you

I want to criticize you

I wish I could, but you need me so I’ll be there.

Will you be there for me?

You haven’t been there. Not when it mattered.

[crying-apple]

Skin to skin showers

He shared the same plate of food with me

Forehead kisses for departures

He covered my body with kisses and warmth

Fingers intertwining as the sun rises

He hugged me until my tears stopped

The smell of his cologne in my hair

He smiled when he’d see me

Fingers tracing hearts on hands

He fell asleep on me as I played with his hair

Morning sun shines on our bodies

He ate breakfasts I made for us

Non verbal love

[dazaisadmirable]

Just realised I don't want relationship but I need somebody to love me , listens to my Kaccha chittas and don't judge me at all . I need to feel safe , and prioritised . I need someone to be gentle with me yet strict. I need someone to love me by the corner of the eyes . I don't need to be up halded by pretty poetries yet you give me the worst nightmares. It just doesn't worth it . I used to think I love big brains , people with interest are perfect for me but found out it's not worth it . The warmth, the sunshine that's I need even if you don't know about von Trier'e movies or Kafka's crisis or Dazai's scandalous life ended up in void .

[sommyspeaks]

sickness settles in so quick. i did not send an invitation but whatever 🙄

[haroburst]

to a person i’ll never meet

hi, how are you? were you on bumble all along? did i walk by you and think to say hello but chicken out? were you waiting for me to be a person, someone who can meet you and be more?

i wish i knew you, person, i wish i could call you my love and hold your hand. i want to feel your touch and i want you to feel mine, in the most delicate of ways with the heaviest purpose. a head on my shoulder, an arm on your elbow

i wish you knew me, person, and saw this void and fear and anger and made it worth it for me to be able to say goodbye to the things i wish i had a reason to let go. i wish you gave me your heart and mind and the galaxies of thoughts and ideas to fill the hole i’ll need to make in my chest

because the hole will be there whether i meet you or not, my person. it’ll be there because as i grow older my insides grow smaller and smaller, emptying out into this hole that’s taking me over

the hole will be there because i refuse to not let it grow. because the cost of fullness is emptiness of another kind, of the life i can’t live and the person i can’t be even though my skin and my blood and my books say different

so person, i guess it’s not fair on you anyway? that i need you and i want you and i love you already in a way i don’t know how to love, so that the hole can be worth it, because i want to believe you are worth it

[inkmiracle]

please request!!!

[venusdevotea]

I'm so tired of this, I just want to make out with you and forget about the world for a while. Everything scares me. Did you know? I act so tough and I put on this air of overconfidence just to get by. But I'm shy. I'm scared. I'm so tired of having to live through this life so hard, cold, and unfeeling. As if the little things don't get to me. As if I don't think and overthink every interaction, hanging onto every word, or lack thereof. As if I don't feel the emptiness of my outstretched hand never being able to reach yours.

Forgive me, because I just didn't want to feel alone anymore. My heart is crying out for attention, screaming for affection and I still I muffle her noise as much as possible.

I am so tired of being alone. Reaching out and grasping nothing, useless endeavors and wasted time because I thought I had a chance. I thought "this time, no definitely this time," things would be different.

They never are, and they never will be. It will always be just me crying into this pillow, swallowing my sorrow back into throat like bile.

[breadmercury]

All week I've been telling myself "just another two weeks and then final papers will be done and i will have time to draw again!!!" and I've got like seven catboy wips WAITING but instea dof any of those. When I am supposed to be getting ready for bed. I get violently beat over the head with the image of an inverted Creation of Man with Comte and Will, and I physically cannot rest until I at least sketch it out