poets & pets

“stay strong through your pain
grow flowers from it
you have helped me
grow flowers out of mine so
bloom beautifully
bloom softly
however you need
just bloom”
Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey

  • Voltron canon: The OG Paladins were five inspiring Leaders.
  • Me in my AU: Did you know one of the former Black paladins was a masseur.
She was hopelessly destroyed and beautifully broken at every flawless seam she worked tirelessly to hide but god I loved her.. and her perfect imperfections.
—  C.B. -I’ll write a book one day.

Happiness can be a strange thing
It looks different on all of us
From singing and dancing
To smiles and laughter.

For some it’s sunshine
Enjoying a brightly lit day
A warming sun
An absence of darkness.

For some it’s companions
Of the four legged kind
Adorable pets of all sizes
Appreciating closeness no matter who it may be.

For others it’s fantasy
Getting lost in other worlds
Exploring beyond our limits
Finding ourselves in each world.

Yet more have different places
To find what makes them sing
For all of us are different
Yet we all crave the same thing.

My Little Pet Peeves

What good is poetry if we can’t have a little fun with it ey? Little parody for ya:

White zinc on noses and accents on Britons;
Spikey bike pedals and deciphering Dickens;
Having to always rake up all the leaves;
These are a few of my little pet peeves.

Celebrity phonies that carry French Poodles;
Having to save everything daughter doodles;
Fox News reports and the country believes;
These are a few of my little pet peeves.

Stock market guesses and DUI crashes;
Shows interrupted by breaking news flashes;
People that roll up their smokes in their sleeves;
These are a few of my little pet peeves.

When my life bites,
When my pet peeves,
Start getting me mad,
I simply remember Christopher Reeves
And then I don’t feel so bad.


today i saw a cat
hanging out of the window of a balcony
it seemed to stare at me
or perhaps above me
or most likely two centimeters to my right
(or my write)
its little paws seemed stationary
it was oblivious to the hands of time
or to the death of chlorophyll
i meowed at it
and it raised its right ear
and i thought
‘what a time to be alive
kitties are finally autonomous’

Poets make pets of pretty, docile words:
I love smooth words, like gold-enamelled fish
Which circle slowly with a silken swish,
And tender ones, like downy-feathred birds:
Words shy and dappled, deep-eyed deer in herds,
Come to my hand, and playful if I wish,
Or purring softly at a silver dish,
Blue Persian kittens fed on cream and curds.

I love bright words, words up and singing early;
Words that are luminous in the dark, and sing;
Warm lazy words, white cattle under trees;
I love words opalescent, cool, and pearly,
Like midsummer moths, and honied words like bees,
Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.

Elinor Wylie, “Pretty Words,” Selected Works of Elinor Wylie (Kent State University, 2005)


in some cities those heavy machines
lifting tonnage and boring through crust
sound like the fanfare of progress
to the workday morning traffic
thats how people love a big city
its ever-cacophonous shuffle
comforts our mortal phobia of death
but, die we will
someday a conspicuous silence
filling the ancient, crumbling structures
and towering, moss covered machines
of steamy labors long forgotten
may mean our path to greatness was not
so great nor so strong our will to live
that pride would not build our own tombs