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#living poetry
travelersrest · 8 months
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🐺🩷🐺
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poetrybyonur · 2 years
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Sometimes, even my pen cannot write her into words, because she breathes poetry with every breath she takes.
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audhdnight · 3 months
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Where’s that post about how someone’s mom keeps turning her sunflower to face the room instead of letting it face the window and get sun and the plant is dying and they said something like what’s the point of writing poetry about it because it’s already poetry?
I feel like the peak of Mount Everest being one of the hardest to reach places yet being absolutely covered in trash from people who just wanted to get up there and leave their mark and also had no respect for nature is along those same lines
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The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book, to be studied by geologists and antiquaries chiefly, but living poetry like the leaves of a tree, which precede flowers and fruit, - not a fossil earth, but a living earth; compared with whose great central life all animal and vegetable life is merely parasitic.
from Walden by Henry David Thoreau 
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druid-for-hire · 1 year
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[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”
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words-at-night · 7 months
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wehavewords · 5 months
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"Let yourself become living poetry."
Rumi
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ekflostinthoughts · 7 months
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Google Searching Life Away
How to feel alive ?
How to process feelings ?
Get fit in 30 days.
Change your life in 30 days.
How to stop feeling lonely?
How to find Hope?
~ “ Theres a buzzing in my chest that hasn’t stopped in days, they call it anxiety. Living with a constant haze.”
By ekf
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I've Endured, Now What?
Blue Iris - Mary Oliver / So This Is All I Will Ever Be? - Fatima Aamer Bilal / Vive, Vive - Traci Brimhall
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travelersrest · 10 months
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🪽🪷🪽
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laughingblue12 · 8 months
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Get Up and Do!
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View On WordPress
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thefadingyouth · 9 months
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102513
A six digit code I was assigned that became my identity.
Every code until I graduated was associated with those numbers
Those numbers add up to twelve
I found out years later.
Lost with out a code, with out a label.
I find myself searching for patterns that make myself whole.
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pionoplayer · 10 months
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There are some days when I wonder why every time a story interrogates the idea of LIVING in a story, the conclusion they come to is almost always that it is a horrible thing that takes away your free will and destroys you.
But every day, if you're paying attention, you can catch glimpses of the stories that everyone else is living. The arcs and conflicts that everyone walks through in their daily lives, the living poetry that makes up the world around us. The words and music that string together life and reality in ways that tie together to make bigger stories out of all of the small ones.
And if there really are choices to be made in our world, if you would say that free will exists (as I would) in the face of how much of our lives are determined and shaped by circumstances we could never control, then why couldn't the same be true of the characters down on that page. You hear so often from authors of things like discovering their own characters as they write, of the story almost flowing on its own.
While being part of a story might not always be the best thing... Perhaps it would be okay to be part of those pages on ink. That way you know that someone will remember you, that everything you do has SOME meaning.
And if there is someone putting your story to paper, instead of it just being the conflux of a million things that randomly placed us into itself... Then that means that no matter how dark things get, then maybe just maybe there's still a happy ending waiting for us at the end.
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poetryofmuses · 11 months
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"what do you do for a living?" Oh I am a professional hopeless romantic and I read books and cry in my free time.
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feral-ballad · 8 months
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Yanyi, from Dream of the Divided Field: Poems; “Paradise, Lost”
[Text ID: “I want to be beautiful/ and a part of this earth.”]
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its-simply-just-krys · 6 months
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anonymous ; found on pinterest
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