johndarnielle:

elucubrare:

Ellen Hinsey

wow

johndarnielle:

elucubrare:

Ellen Hinsey

wow

prelude to a fall

I call you papercut girl
because you’ve drawn blood from me more times than i remember
but only if i’m careless with my hands.
Your parents raised you this way, to be razor sharp
if you don’t trust someone
and soft white if you do.

I call you spiderwebs
because it’s been so long
and I still find traces of you in my hair.
You are stronger than your gossamer would lead you to believe
they’ll pattern steel after you,
they’ll raise bridges with your designs
I want to tell you this because I want you to remember:
you are going to shine after the rain ends.
They will write theses about your complexity
and poetry about your beauty.

Falling in love with you is a cliffside.
It all becomes a fearful thing
it’s a chasm, and we’re holding hands and walking off the edge
you and me, spiderwebs,
just one long fall.

If we’re lucky, we’ll see the bottom coming
and our hearts will erupt from our backs like parachutes
and let our crash be easy
and let our wounds be slight
and let us walk away without feeling like we had to.

So let me hold you now, papercut.
Rest your head on my chest and sink your breath onto my rib-bones
lay heavy on me, tangle me up
let me pour my words onto your skin
so when another sees in you what I did
I will have pressed into you imprints of my handwriting
and you can never truly erase that
and you will not want to,
because wrinkles give things texture.
and I want you to remember when you were my papercut
and never forget why I called you spiderwebs
and as we lay on my bed, sheets all lily-white,
I will promise that I won’t either.

Your New Captain America Is Sam Wilson

nobloodforpizza:

sonofbaldwin:

I don’t know how I feel about this.

In theory, I like Sam Wilson as the Falcon even if I never liked his sidekick-ass, “Is we sick, boss?” relationship to Captain America.

Well now, for a temporary moment I’m sure, he’s going to actually *be* Captain America.

The ONLY thing that might be interesting to me about this experiment is whether or not the internal politics of the role change because a black man now wears the costume. I’m interested in how white people will react to the black person adorned in the American flag. I’m interested in knowing if the creators of this series imagine that white men and black men have identical notions about the country, democracy, white supremacy, and patriarchy.

In other words, I’m wondering if this will be a Black Captain America or a Captain America in Blackface.

For the record, there have been a couple Black Caps before this- Isaiah Bradley, a black WWII soldier, was retconned into being the ‘first Captain America’ in Captain America: Truth, and his nephew Elijah Bradley took the name Patriot when he was a member of Young Avengers (okay, not Cap, but close). 

Falcon’s relationship with Cap is definitely a one with some contentious (racial) undertones, but I’m cautiously excited for this. Marvel has been doing some very interesting stuff with representation recently, and none of it has pissed me off yet.

nailbitings:

I love breakfasts alone. Especially in diners.
Eating breakfast with friends is a treat, of course. When I think of one of my favorite breakfasts, I think of being ten, making an egg scramble for nine sleeping guests with my godmother in Newport, Oregon. Mary and I chopped the vegetables diligently, and on tip toes and with watchful eyes I soaked in the steps, the rituals of making eggs. I learned. I wish I could say I learned how to make eggs from my mother, but that’s not true.
Another favorite breakfast was served just a few weeks ago: after a party, Dante and I made eggs, bacon and potatoes for our hungover friends. Working in a kitchen with the man you love is such a quiet kind of happiness, an egalitarian performance for the people who have accepted your relationship with open arms. That will always be one of the good moments of us.
The first time a man made me breakfast, I woke up sad and scared. An evening of too many joints and suffocating self-doubt hadn’t yet sloughed off my skin, and as I cautiously walked to the kitchen- he lived in a 26th-floor apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over a snowy newton, mass- Justin was making me eggs, fried, on toast with avocado and cheese. He made us breakfast with that meditative smile, as if he were letting me see his private moments, his solitary bliss, his quiet mornings of egg on toast. We sat at his cheap kitchen table and ate in silence- the first moment I thought to myself, “maybe this guy cares about me after all.”
Justin and I did not end well, but when I feel sad, I still make eggs on toast. I hope he thinks of me sometimes, in those solitary mornings, and doesn’t feel resentment. I hope he knows that I keep his eggs on toast at the table, even now.
But I love breakfasts spent alone, because it gives me a chance to taste the silence in cups of coffee, in sausage gravy like glue, in egg scrambles made for one. I know I have many more solitary breakfasts left, and that doesn’t make me sad anymore. I can walk into quiet diners with orange lightbulbs and waitresses with whisps of strawberry jam hair, watch families love one another over sausage links and wheat toast, and savor the time I can spend with myself.

AFFIRMATION POEM

I believe in human error!
I believe that the eternally shifting
gears of the great machinery of mankind
are not always perfect.

I believe in heartbreak
I believe in true love
that crashes against skin and skin
love that breaks like waves
on the cliffside
I believe in human erosion!

I believe in human patchwork!
and fixes!
in threadwork! and mattresses!
strewn across the landscape
crash-pads for crash-landings
crashing down on cliffsides
I believe in human erosion.

I believe in electric poetry
ejected from fingers and throats
rejected from interiors where they cannot stand
charged from human bodies onto recorded media
us, the mediums of current
electric wires shot through with charged words.
I believe in electric poetry.

I believe in human error!
I believe we’ll land on the moon someday
but this time, we’ll put up a house.
I believe in lunar landings
and the possibilities afforded to us by anarchistic
utopian and idealistic, patterns
of sociological movement.
I believe in anarchy. I believe in utopia,
and I believe they are twin and lovers
both in the field of political thought
and in the the bedroom.

I believe we’re better than this!
I believe the children of humanity will not be remembered by age
but by contribution
and that the contribution of creating something
is on par with and level to
maintaining something
and making it better.

I believe in human error!
I believe we make mistakes!
I believe we’re still making mistakes
every day
I believe we can do better.
I believe in getting better.

I believe we are all ghosts rising out of bodies!
I believe that out of body
we might see each other better
like the first time you put on glasses in the morning
and hallelujah, I can see
and you see someone else.
I believe we are all ghosts rising out of bodies.

I believe in talking to each other.
I believe in children talking
and that one day I will have my own that I can talk back to
running around and making a mess of things
and someone will be there to help me with that
I believe in hoping for the future.

I believe in human error.
I believe that sometimes you think someone is all you need
and that someone turns out to be all someone needs
it’s just not you
and sometimes, you have to make peace with that.
no matter how much it pains you, because god damn it
I believe in human error.

I believe in technology.
I believe we can make things that do things
better than we ever did-
in rocket fuel and robotics
and the crystalline grids of computer processors
working hot and heavy under covers
on equations, like lovesick math professors.
I believe in technology!

I believe in eternal life.
I believe in making beauty that goes on
and keeps giving, in communities sustained by
cooperation and mutuality
I believe in getting better.
I believe in doing better.

I believe the the human spirit
is beyond cage and comfort
but rises out, touches heavenly bodies
both on earth and beyond her
and that one day, I believe,
this poem won’t be just hopeful,
it’ll be fulfilled.

I beat Wolfenstein TNO

video-gamesman:

Most of my experience with this game has been with me being consistently surprised by how much fun I was having. The atmosphere is very well done, the characters are surprisingly interesting (despite BJ Blazkowicz being possibly the most bland character in the whole world, at least on paper), and…

I wrote a big thing on a video game, take a look at it if you want to read me ranting about a video game

fallenwest:

autopsynecropsy:

crimesandkillers:

Faces of school shooters

After reading some of the comments on my original ‘Faces of school shooters’ post, I thought I should say this…not ALL school shooters are white males. The main point of putting this photo set together was so people would see that a school shooter can be ANYONE. The comments on the ‘Faces of school shooters’ photo set are disgusting. Comments such as ‘White privilege’, well, where is it? They got the same sentence as any other person would.  Also, comments such as ‘Fuckin white people’ and it has been reblogged by blogs with are called ‘thisiswhiteculture’, ‘whitepeoplesaidwhat’, ‘murderwhitepeople’, ‘whitepeoplestealingculture’, ‘whiteguiltconfessions’ etc. Would this be OK if it was a person of any other colour? I think not. So why is it OK if it’s white people? Racism does work both ways

Because American society is quick to label black on black crime, quick to notice that more blacks are convicted than whites (although they usually incorrectly assume it’s because blacks commit more crimes), and quick to label any violent crime by a person of middle eastern descent as terrorism. In short, American society loves to racialize crime, except when it’s white people in question. So some people seize on the fact that the stereotypical school shooter is white for a sense of relief.

"A cornered mouse may bite a cat, this does not reclassify a mouse as predator and a cat as prey" (thanks emberglass). 

If the people who you’re describing believe that only white people can or do commit mass shootings, or even if they just associate mass shootings with white people, you’re right, they are being racially prejudiced. According to the first definition of racism in most major dictionaries, they are being racist. The problem with that is that it’s a simplistic and uninformed view of what racism is in american society. It is much more damaging for white people to associate crime with minorities than it is for minorities to associate crime with white people, because white people are in power, so to speak. We hold more positions as judges, prosecutors, policemen and women, and as lawmakers. 

Finally, you claim that “They got the same sentence as any other person would.” This may be true for the specific black person you showed a picture of compared to the specific white people you showed pictures of. I do not know. I very much doubt, however, that it’s true when you look at all the cases. And I know it’s not true when you look at all crimes.

overview of racism in the criminal justice system:

http://urbanpoverty.qwriting.qc.cuny.edu/files/2011/01/Ronald-Weich-and-Carlos-Angulo-Racial-Disparities-in-the-American-Criminal-Justice-System.pdf

overrepresentation of youth of color in justice system (I think, I haven’t read these in a bit):

http://www.nccdglobal.org/sites/default/files/publication_pdf/justice-for-some.pdf

Useful recommended reading list:

http://artsandsciences.virginia.edu/woodson/symposium/

relevant news article:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/therootdc/post/state-of-equality-and-justice-in-america-the-presumption-of-guilt/2013/05/17/49a51a42-bf07-11e2-89c9-3be8095fe767_blog.html

is ‘black culture’ to blame?

http://crs.sagepub.com/content/34/2/213.abstract

oh yeah reminder

if you were unaware, i have another blog that isn’t just poetry and you can look at it here

john darnielle of the Mountain Goats hugged me and told me that he loved me tonight at his show

Affirmation Poem

I believe in human error
I believe that the eternally shifting
gears of the great machinery of mankind
are not always perfect

I believe in heartbreak
I believe in true love
that crashes against skin and skin
love that breaks like waves
on the cliffside
I believe in human erosion

I believe in human patchwork
and fixes
in threadwork and matresses
strewn across the landscape
crash-pads for crash-landings
crashing down on cliffsides
I believe in human erosion.

I believe in electric poetry
ejected from fingers and throats
rejected from interiors where they cannot stand
charged from human bodies onto recorded media
us, the mediums of current
electric wires shot through with charged words.
I believe in electric poetry.

I believe in human error.
I believe we’ll land on the moon someday
but this time, we’ll put up a house.
I believe in lunar landings
and the possibilities afforded to us by anarchistic
utopian and idealistic, patterns
of sociological movement.
I believe in anarchy. I believe in utopia,
and I believe they are twin and lovers
both in the field of political thought
and in the the bedroom.

I believe we’re better than this
I believe the children of humanity will not be remembered by age
but by contribution
and that the contribution of creating something
is on par with and level to
maintaining something
and making it better.

I believe in human error.
I believe we make mistakes.
I believe we’re still making mistakes
every day
I believe we can do better.
I believe in getting better.

I believe we are all ghosts rising out of bodies
I believe that out of body
we might see each other better
like the first time you put on glasses in the morning
and hallelujah, I can see
and you see someone else.
I believe we are all ghosts rising out of bodies.

I believe in talking to each other.
I believe in children talking
and that one day I will have my own that I can talk back to
running around and making a mess of things
and someone will be there to help me with that
I believe in hoping for the future.

I believe in human error.
I believe that sometimes you think someone is all you need
and that someone turns out to be all someone needs
it’s just not you
and sometimes, you have to make peace with that.
no matter how much it pains you, because god damn it
I believe in human error.

I believe in technology.
I believe we can make things that do things
better than we ever did
in rocket fuel and robotics
and the crystalline grids of computer processors
working hot and heavy under covers
on equations, like lovesick math professors.
I believe in technology.

I believe in eternal life.
I believe in making beauty that goes on
and keeps giving, in communities sustained by
cooperation and mutuality
I believe in getting better.
I believe in doing better.

I believe the the human spirit
is beyond cage and comfort
but rises out, touches heavenly bodies
both on earth and beyond her
and that one day, I believe,
this poem won’t be just hopeful,
it’ll be fulfilled.

"

you may write me down in history
with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may trod me in the very dirt
but still, like dust, i’ll rise.

does my sassiness upset you?
why are you beset with gloom?
‘cause i walk like i’ve got oil wells
pumping in my living room.

just like moons and like suns,
with the certainty of tides,
just like hopes springing high,
still i’ll rise.

did you want to see me broken?
bowed head and lowered eyes?
shoulders falling down like teardrops,
weakened by my soulful cries.

does my haughtiness offend you?
don’t you take it awful hard
‘cause i laugh like i’ve got gold mines
diggin’ in my own back yard.

you may shoot me with your words,
you may cut me with your eyes,
you may kill me with your hatefulness,
but still, like air, i’ll rise.

does my sexiness upset you?
does it come as a surprise
that i dance like i’ve got diamonds
at the meeting of my thighs?

out of the huts of history’s shame
i rise
up from a past that’s rooted in pain
i rise
i’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
welling and swelling i bear in the tide.

leaving behind nights of terror and fear
i rise
into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
i rise
bringing the gifts my ancestors gave,
i am the dream and the hope of the slave.
i rise
i rise
i rise.

"

still i rise, maya angelou (via 8e888e)

(Source: lzbth, via plantaplanta)

"I chuckled nervously.
Of course I wanted to fuck you.
Like brides marching down the aisle
or bands march down boulevards.
And I also wanted to drink shitty wine
with you after eating corn dogs
and forget what time meant as we
spent dollars and hours on nights
together wrapped in bed or in words
or in blankets or in adventures.

It was later when I realized
I wanted to love you that
I wanted to breakfast with you
and count clouds with you when the sun shone.
"

Alex Dang! (via wordsoftakumi)

(via wordsoftakumi)

"That’s the thing, MRAs. By and large, American feminists are really into equality, involved fathers, justice for all, dismantling bullshit gender roles, and helping folks leave dangerous relationships. We would be the natural allies of MRAs, if MRAs were sincerely committed to the causes with which they claim to be chiefly concerned. But no, today’s MRAs — unlike the 1970s movement that earnestly sought to free men, alongside women, from the constraints of gender stereotypes, or the 1980s branch that involved a lot of drum circles and crap poetry — are chiefly concerned with one thing, and one thing only: Putting feminists in their place. Which is in the kitchen at best and in the ground at worst, if you ask these unapologetically misogynistic bags of rot."

FUCK YOU, MEN’S RIGHTS’ ADVOCATES, by KATE HARDING

wildflowerveins:

if you’re a mens rights activist please unfollow me please don’t associate yourself with me please don’t message me or try to explain yourself of even breathe around me i don’t want to hear it you are active oppressors and i don’t want to hear it.

chron-john-silvers said: Hey you said you play sad folk? Do you play anything else?

Not really anymore. I used to be really into more amped up stuff, but I definitely tapered off my playing when i got into college and I kind of diversified my musical tastes so being the next Nirvana or whatever didn’t quite fit.

Also I just really like singing more than playing guitar, I think. I love playing guitar, but I really just like chilling out and singing so  I kind of became that douche. I like busking when I can, though