howls of the lost lunatic

the ecstasy of forgotten time

of the void impalpable by feeling 

of this cavity in my heart

this disaccord of light

that bleeds through the dark 

that touches the depths of these caved in walls

that touches despair’s budding shadow

soaked in this arid guilt

while we’re pushed in the gulf of hysteria

searching for the words

to our own lost poetry. 

© Margaux Emmanuel 

April is National Poetry Month and I had a light and airy poem picked out for today. Instead, since this is the holiest of weeks for Jews, this poem seemed more appropriate. (I was going to throw Sean Spicer’s remarks into the mix, but I think his problem is that he can’t think on his feet which is a problem for someone in his position.)

I bought this postcard at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Somber and sad as all of the museum was, these shoes, for me, were the most concrete way to wrap my head around the enormity.

I Saw A Mountain

I saw a mountain
Higher than Mt. Blanc
And more Holy than the Mountain of Sinai.
Not in a dream. It was real.
On this world this mountain stood.
Such a mountain I saw — of Jewish shoes in Majdanek. …

Hear! Hear the march.
Hear the shuffle of shoes left behind — that which remained.
From small, from large, from each and every one.
Make way for the rows — for the pairs,
For the generations — for the years.
The shoe army — it moves and moves.

“We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses.
We are shoes from grandchildren and grandfathers.
From Prague, Paris and Amsterdam.
And because we are only made of stuff and leather
And not of blood and flesh, each one of us avoided the hellfire.

We shoes — that used to go strolling in the market
Or with the bride and groom to the chuppah,
We shoes from simple Jews, from butchers and carpenters,
From crocheted booties of babies just beginning to walk and go
On happy occasions, weddings, and even until the time
Of giving birth, to a dance, to exciting places to life…
Or quietly — to a funeral.
Unceasingly we go. We tramp.
The hangman never had the chance to snatch us into his
Sack of loot — now we go to him.
Let everyone hear the steps, which flow as tears,
The steps that measure out the judgment.”
I saw a mountain
Higher than Mt. Blanc
And more Holy than the Mountain of Sinai.

Moses Schulstein

No Limits

These were the words taken
From the root my mouth, like a shoreline
Breaks across the threshold of silence
Where I only heard your moments

Of trusting

That trust came to me in an honesty I longed
To proffer - that feeling like sighting cliff swallows in
The sun, their fallen streaks of light just bright
Before their time expires in the warming wind

Of trusting

Like the ocean air as strophic, its rhythm filling the
Spindle of every breath you’ve given, where
Honesty is the only vantage point in time, lost
To the epicenter of your view - if only there were time

Of trusting

I’d clear the ossuary of this moment to
The bone of seconds freeing the deepest love  
You promised to yourself upon every sense
You’ve never experienced -before the limits-

Where there would be no limits of trusting.

© K. James Ribble   -   For @aftersalt

What Shall I Tell My Children Who Are Black What shall I tell my children who are black.

Of what it means to be a captive in this dark skin?What shall I tell my dear one, fruit of my womb,of how beautiful they are when everywhere they turn they are faced with abhorrence of everything that is black.The night is black and so is the boogyman.Villains are black with black hearts.A black cow gives no milk. A black hen lays no eggs.Storm clouds, black, black is evil and evil is black and devil’s food is black…

What shall I tell my dear ones raised in a white world
A place where white has been made to represent
all that is good and pure and fine and decent,
where clouds are white and dolls, and heaven
surely is a white, white place with angels
robed in white, and cotton candy and ice cream
and milk and ruffled Sunday dresses
and dream houses and long sleek Cadillacs and Angel’s food is white… all, all… white.

What can I say therefore, when my child
Comes home in tears because a playmate
Has called him black, big lipped, flatnosed and nappy headed?
What will he think when I dry his tears and whisper,
“Yes, that’s true. But no less beautiful and dear.”
How shall I lift up his head, get him to square
his shoulders, look his adversaries in the eye,
confident in the knowledge of his worth.
Serene under his sable skin and proud of his own beauty?

What can I do to give him strength
That he may come through life’s adversities
As a whole human being unwarped and human in a world
Of biased laws and inhuman practices, that he might
Survive. And survive he must! For who knows?
Perhaps this black child here bears the genius
To discover the cure for… cancer
Or to chart the course for exploration of the universe.
So, he must survive for the the good of all humanity.

He must and will survive.
I have drunk deeply of late from the fountain
of my black culture, sat at the knee of and learned
from mother Africa, discovered the truth of my heritage.
The truth, so often obscured and omitted.
And I find I have much to say to my black children.
I will lift up their heads in proud blackness
with the story of their fathers and their father’s fathers.
And I shall take them into a way back time
of kings and queens who ruled the Nile,
and measured the stars and discovered the laws of mathematics.
I will tell them of a black people upon whose backs have been built
the wealth of three continents.
I will tell him this and more.
And knowledge of his heritage shall be his weapon and his armor;
It will make him strong enough to win any battle he may face.
And since this story is so often obscured,
I must sacrifice to find it for my children,
even as I sacrifice to feed, clothe and shelter them.
So this I will do for them if I love them.
None will do it for me.

I must find the truth of heritage for myself and pass it on to them.
In years to come, I believe because I have armed them with the truth,
my children and their children’s children will venerate me.
For it is the truth that will make us free!

Margaret Burroughs


The thaw of the time
of darkness
and the summit of the sun
lighten our wounds,
calm our dark souls

The creases of our semi-open hearts
send our lives into a frenzy;
where our sins dance away


When you were young, remember?

You loved to dream the idyllic:
those blue eyes, the colour of the sea.
You used to open the door on that world
fall to the ground and play dead.
Moments of drunkenness:
a race in the wind, a roaring sun.

Now you have the money
you think and rethink of that time
of those heavenly eyes,
the colour of the sea, a dive in the waters.
Past idylls, emergent emotions
songs sung by strong passions
and the strawberry desire
on the back of your knee.

Then you think about the future,
what you will be:
a man who counts, with hat and cane
a rich powerful man
not one that speaks words in vain:

“Enough, I’d say, it’s time to stop!
Let it pass, see how it’ll develop.”

adapted from “Passatempo” by Sal Gen

Voltron hide and seek headcanons

Lance proposes it during a very boring day

  • Everybody says it’s stupid (especially Keith)
  • Except  Allura who doesn’t know what it is so Lance explains it to her. Her competitive spirit activates and she wants to play
  • They all roll their eyes but accept
  • Coran says it is a “childish game” but plays anyways because he is lowkey excited

Nobody wants to be it and they all start discussing

  • Shiro finally says he’ll be it to avoid any drama
  • Allura says its unfair for him to be it alone because that would be 1vs6 and although they all try to explain her that’s how the game goes she says she’ll be it with Shiro
  • They have to accept bc Allura’s the boss
  • And because everyone secretly ships them

Lance and Keith see a wardrobe to hide at the same time

  • Of course they start fighting about who saw it first and who has the right to hide inside
  • Neither of them is willing to give in so they end up crumbling inside the wardrobe together 
  • Boi do I even have to explain the sexual tension here
  • Their faces are literally five centimetres apart, their legs are laced together and their chests rub each other when they breathe
  • They spend there like 15 minutes barely speaking bc of how embarrased they are
  • When they finally get out they touch the base at the same time and start arguing about that

Meanwhile Shiro and Allura

  • Allura is losing her shit about the game because she is here to win™
  • Shiro thinks that’s cute and is pretty sure he’s been blushing the whole time
  • They find Coran first hiding under a table 
  • When they run to touch the base Allura literally punches Coran to stop him from winning
  • Shiro informs her that’s cheating
  • “Really? What kind of game is this?” she is offended
  • They go to look for Hunk but when when they come back to the base they find him with Keith and Lance

They all decide to look for Pidge together

  • Hunk, Lance and Keith go together and Allura, Shiro and Coran make another team
  • They spend literally two hours trying to find them
  • They never do, they just come back to the base and they are there playing a videogame
  • They never reveal where they hid

Dating Jeno would Include:

  • plenty of selcas together
  • bringing you stuffed animals from different places
  • not even trying to hide your relationship from the public
  • mostly because neither of you can stay away for any length of time
  • cooking for each other
  • probs going to the same school
  • teasing each other about how you had gotten better grades (vice versa)
  • studying together
  • not really studying
  • one of the other boys walking in on you two “studying”
  • his older members teasing him for dating you
  • in a nice & cute way of course
  • him blushing whenever someone says your name
  • watching him dance and perform as much as you can
  • having him teach you some of the choreograph
  • trying not to laugh when you fail miserably
  • “don’t worry I felt the same way”
  • “hey! I wasn’t making of fun of you!”
  • “You were laughing at me!”
  • “what?” *gasps and puts hand over heart*“I would NEVER!”
  • having cooking competitions
  • being at the dorm ALL the time
  • wearing his sweatshirts
  • the boys treating you like a sister
  • eskimo kisses!
  • grabbing your hand at random times
  • hugging at random times too
  • having a hard time when you’re apart
  • texting when you’re not with each other

Originally posted by ambrosaur

Dating Donghyuck would Inculde:

  • texting all the time when you aren’t with each other
  • daydreaming about each other all the time
  • of course stealing his sweatshirts and his hats
  • goofing around a lot
  • sometimes with Mark
  • going to different shops and restaurants all the time
  • mostly to just hang out
  • and because you like trying new things with each other
  • though you do have a favorite place together
  • you almost always meet there
  • knowing each other like the back of your hands
  • probably being good friends before you started dating
  • late nights texts
  • mysterious rendezvous
  • cute good morning and good night texts
  • literally the best days off with each other
  • both of your parents hoping that the relationship would last a long time
  • maybe even the two of you getting married
  • all of his hyungs thinking that you’ll get married one day
  • the way he asked you out would be SO cute
  • he’d probably get you roses, or what ever your favorite flower is
  • Really romantic
  • rubbing your hand when you hold hands
  • tickle fights
  • being the only one who knows his passcode for his phone
  • cute nicknames in your phone
  • accidently calling each other them in public
  • being really cheesy with each other
  • laughing ALL THE TIME
  • kissing you one the nose or forehead most of the time

Originally posted by fy-smrookiesreactions

BTS reaction : You're playing with your hair when you're tired

Here’s the reaction~ Hope you’ll like it ^^ thanks for requesting~
(Gifs are not mine, crédits to owners)

RapMonster : NamJoon would find it so cute and smile at you « Go to sleep, if you wait for me to finish my lyrics you’ll not sleep ». He knew you would stay with him, but you were too tired and he could see it because you were playing with your hair.

Jin : SeokJin and you were in your bed, talking since a long timeof everything. But he saw you began to play with yor hair, and smiled brightly « Let’s sleep jagi, we’re tired, we’ll talk tomorrow » you smiled at him and he took you in his arms before falling asleep.

J-Hope : You were watching him practising his choregraphy for their comeback, and you began to play with your hair, tireness appearing in you. He did a break to drink some water and saw you playing with your hair. He smiled and gave you slight kisses on the cheeks and on the lips « I’m working on the choregraphy 15 minutes and we’ll go to sleep, okay ? » You smiled shyly at him and agreed happily, waiting for him to finish.

Suga : Yoongi just finished his track and looked at the clock, it was 3am. He saw that you were in his studio again, playing a lot with your hair. He knew that you were tired, and decided to stay in the studio to sleep with you, he took all he could find and took the matress he was keeping in a corner when he was finishing too late. « We’ll sleep here jagi, it’s too late to go out, now come were, we’re gonna cuddle and sleeping ».

Jimin : Jimin was with you on the sofa of the living room, watching a drama with you. He turn his look on you, and saw you playing with your hair, he smiled and put his head on your lap. You looked at him surprised and he smiled at you « Why don’t you play with my hair until the episode is over ? After we’ll go to sleep don’t worry ».

V: TaeHyung and you were at a dinner together with some friends, and he saw you began to play with your hair. He waited some time, speaking with Jimin, but he looked at you and saw you were playing with your hair again. He smiled, took your hand and said to your friends that you were going back to your home. When you get out of the house of your friends he explained « You were playing with your hair, it was really cute, but you’re doing this when you’re tired ». You kissed him on the cheek and he smiled.

JungKook : You and the maknae were on the couch, watching the last iron man together. Jungkook was so fascinated by what was happening on the screen and couldn’t watch anything else. When the film finished, he turned his head to see you, and he discovered that you played with your hair. He had always foind it so cute, so he smiled and opened his arms « Come here i’m gonna hug you and we’re gonna go sleep ! »

anonymous asked:

Your fav all time jikook fics? ^o^


I can’t rank these, and this is nowhere near complete, but here’s a random 10 out of many Jikook fics I adore to the ends of the Earth. :3

  1. Can’t Pin Me Down by busan_brat
  2. dear diary, holy crap i think i’m in love with park jimin by jungkooks hyung
  3. Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight by pyapia/MotionlessMuse
  4. Vision of a Blind Man by touchmybangtan
  5. speechless by wordcouture/baebsaes
  6. You’re My Genie, Lamborghini (You’re My Teeny Weeny Meenie) by  mindheist
  7. In which Jimin is Jungkook’s RA and Jungkook locks himself out a lot by jiminthepark/graesun
  8. digital by empressium
  9. allegro by aborescent/kookie-time
  10. Of Commitments by authorskookies

Although he was only eleven at the timeof his accession, Peter II had a mind of his own and proved far from a pliant tool for his prospective father-in-law’s ambitions. A slender lad who had inherited the weak constitution that so often plagued male Romanovs, he was frequently ill. His chief passions we hunting, strong drink, and his blond, blue-eyed, and very buxom aunt Elizaveta. Like his father and grandfather, he abhorred formal study but, again like them, he formed a deep personal attachement for his tutor. … Even at the age of eleven, he was acutely conscious of his position as Autocrat, and bitterly resented the high-handed manner in which Meshikov ordered him about. At one point, Peter reacted violently and shouted, “I will make you know that I am Emperor, and that I will be obeyed.” Yet his prospective father-in-law kept such a tight rein upon him that it seemed impossible for the boy to break free.

W. Bruce Lincoln: The Romanovs