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#british poet
chaoticwomanlove · 1 year
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John Keats♡
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pagansphinx · 16 days
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William Blake (British/English, 1757-1827) • Albion • 1793 • British Museum
In Blake's mythology, Albion was the primeval man whose fall and division results in the FourZoas: Urizen, Tharmas, Luvah/Orc and Urthona/Los. The name derives from the ancient and mythological name of Britain, Albion. – Wikipedia
This image exists as drawing, engraving, colour printed etching and watercolour.
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(I MARRIED A) MONSTER FROM OUTER SPACE - John Cooper Clarke.
The milky way she walks around
All feet firmly off the ground
Two worlds collide, two worlds collide
Here comes the future bride
Gimme a lift to the lunar base
I wanna marry a monster from outer space
***
I fell in love with an alien being
Whose skin was jelly – whose teeth were green
She had the big bug eyes and the death-ray glare
Feet like water wings – purple hair
I was over the moon – I asked her back to my place
Then I married the monster – from outer space
***
The days were numbered – the nights were spent
In a rent free furnished oxygen tent
When a cyborg chef served up moon beams
Done super rapid on a laser beam
I needed nutrition to keep up the pace
When I married the monster from outer space
***
We walked out – tentacle in hand
You could sense that the earthlings would not understand
They’d go.. nudge nudge …when we got off the bus
Saying it’s extra-terrestial – not like us
And it’s bad enough with another race
But fuck me… a monster …from outer space
***
In a cybernetic fit of rage
She pissed off to another age
She lives in 1999
With her new boyfriend – a blob of slime
Each time I see her translucent face
I remember the monster from outer space
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rubenwhitteractor · 27 days
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catherinevaughan · 1 year
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Poetry is my Alchemy...
Poetry is my Alchemy…
Grief, sadness, depression and despair became my art. Their union with my inner optimism, romanticism and imagination coalesced and birthed a world of words through my poetry and fiction where love and sadness live in harmony. Where joy is light and despair it’s shadow. It has become a way to cope with life and fully live it with less fear and deeper joy than I knew possible. We can accept…
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starlightseraph · 6 months
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“he’s literally me”
no, he’s literally a scrawny middle-aged white man and probably british.
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poetrybyonur · 12 days
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I want the real you. The you no one else has seen. The raw, real, and gorgeous you.
A brand new spoken word. Click on image to hear me speak.
Background music by Vancouver Sleep Clinic.
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incorrectpizza · 3 months
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reason 128474329472 i love tumblr.
king charles iii has been diagnosed with cancer and taylor swift announced a new album but what's trending number one? cats. cats of tumblr. cats of tumblr are trending.
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veronicavervet · 1 year
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A poem i wrote whilst i was travelling home 🪷🌵🌴
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Augustus Leopold Egg (1816-1863) "Self Portrait as a Distressed Poet" (1856) Oil on canvas
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burningvelvet · 1 month
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"Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present; the words which express what they understand not; the trumpets which sing to battle, and feel not what they inspire; the influence which is moved not, but moves. Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world."
— An excerpt from Percy Bysshe Shelley's A Defence of Poetry (1821) in honor of World Poetry Day
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lepetitdragonvert · 5 months
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THE MOON MAIDEN’S SONG
Sleep ! Cast thy canopy
Over this sleeper’s brain,
Dim grow his memory,
When he wake again.
Love stays a summer night,
Till lights of morning come ;
Then takes her winged flight
Back to her starry home.
Sleep ! Yet thy days are mine ;
Love’s seal is over thee :
Far though my ways from thine,
Dim though thy memory.
Love stays a summer night,
Till lights of morning come ;
Then takes her winged flight
Back to her starry home.
Ernest Christopher Dowson
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inkcoveredpoet · 8 months
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How I want this school year to look.
All images are from pinterest
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thelastrenaissance · 19 days
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The Picture of Dorian Gray is a philosophical novel by Irish writer Oscar Wilde. Was published in April 1891.
“The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.”
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
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poppiesandpromises · 11 months
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Mouth like a mimosa breeze
Syruped tongue was born to please
Your lychee lips leave me on my knees
I taste heaven when you tease
We move like a soft summer rain
Blossoms cover all our pain
A clementine kiss, raspberry stain
Your touch is anything but plain
I melt like ice cubes in your hands
Acquiescing to your demands
Warmed as though by silken sands
All tangled up like ampersands
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wolfstargazer · 3 months
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I appreciate and understand the love for Dead Poets Society in the Marauder-era fandom. The aesthetic is immaculate.
As a Brit and an older fan I would like to make a public service announcement that you're all sleeping on The History Boys. And would encourage everyone to go watch it.
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