Me. Me When A Poem Says Something Ive Felt Before

New Blog Who Dis

hello! I understand it is weird to have new blogs floating around on tumblr dot com, but i am new and I’d like to add some poetry to this helldump of a site! no offense to this site, I am planning on adding fuel to the fire.

but yes! Hello! you can call me blank if you must refer to me. i like writing blank verse poetry, if you like that sort of stuff feel free to follow me! I am not making promises but i would like to post semi frequently.

thank you for your time, have a dreat gay <3

yes & no by natalie wee

it is my birthday today. as a gift to me, tell someone you know about palestine, but don’t just tell them about our death. tell them about our life, the way we crowd around to flip the maqlooba, the insistence that someone else eats first, the tatreez we’ve woven into the fabric of our history, tell them about the soap from nablus, the oranges from yafa, the olive oil. tell them about our poetry, our art, our folksongs. tell them that we were, and still are, human beings who bore witness to the worst parts of humanity but searched for compassion anyway.

“I don’t know what my goals are, no. Thanks for asking.”

Please don’t take your pets for granted. Even if you’re frustrated that your dog has been barking all day or your bird has been screaming for attention, remember you are all they have in this world. Give your fish that extra water change. Give your dog or cat that tummy rub they’ve been begging for. Chop up some fresh fruit as a treat for your rodents or reptiles. Just spend some time with them. Be compassionate to your animals. They are living creatures that are alive simply because you wish them to be. They may only be a small part in your life, but to them, you are their everything.

To try to do anything in this day and age is courageous. Even if you suck at least you’re fucking doing something. You’re creating something. You are doing SOMETHING. That in itself is a courageous act.

#1,200 hermit

when i leave this tight fit of an exoskeleton

i wonder what will be found from those times

when something was lost to the tide

rather than gathered and disposed of

there are some things

you just cannot rid the world of

corn cob husks

used-up push-pop tabs

empty of disinfection tablets

all the library books i could never return

paperbacks so worn down

with indentations and water damage

you can barely decipher the original text

neon orange, made to eat

inside-out wrappers, forgotten sweets

saved for never, piano sheets

shucking

prying

always denying

hoarding away contrabands

collecting what’s left for the next finding in the sand-

but even hermit crabs

in their ever adapting, tenacious habits

leave behind something worth remembering

marie howe, in an interview with krista tippett of on being

Poetry? More like CROWETRY!

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