I have a shelf full of Kiplings collected poems but im too afraid of getting rid of them bc they were my dads but also i dont need like five Barrack Room Ballads
Artist Name: Lucas James Ramon
Cleaning out my room, found a bunch of weird prints and high school art projects
Paypal me 100 dollars n they r urs
William Nicholson (1872-1949), The Black Vase (n.d.), oil on canvas, 53 x 43 cm. Via BBC.
The pressed-against-me-constantly, the shifting
wrestling weight of it. The rock pushed up a hill of it.
The gravity, the equal, ever more opposing force of it. The ox cart’s load
the furrowing plough the seed scatter and prayer for rain of it.
The pecking orbit of a scavenger, extracting ore, oblivious to the scarecrow’s stare,
the troubled trough, the tantrumed vessel I pour all my perfect in.
Emily Pérez, from the barnyard of it (via kdecember)
it is midnight
it is a poem
in other possible universes
i am sailing
washing jeans in lake water
tan all over my body
ERNST. ROBING OF THE BRIDE.
Our never having met
on this side of the window
is, I think, your
Such a catastrophe averted.
The only thing I have
to talk about is birds
and their weird ceremonies.
no one’s bride
Not anymore. Not in that dress.
The pitchfork was meant to be
Hope it’s useful when
the palace turns to snow
and the big rock
bends to the little rock
to say “Sorry for making
you up one night, during
one of my bad dreams.”
Idk if im girl enough and idk if im boy enough
I like having no hair and a surly stare and
Rough, I want to be free and touched
Tho I like when i stretch so far it hurts and then i hurt for a while more
I like when he is looking lore ,and i like when they are feeling for rain drop sore
Theres rocks taller than me and and trees thinner
But im still a bulky ballet of a
backward bend two tone lend
Im still a foggy morning end
and a groggy sunset with new shoes then,
Lucky the blues still press snooze on my melody and spring my fingers toward