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Willard makes Crab Cakes
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Fri Mar 16, 2018 3:41 pm
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Sujana
,
keystrings
,
Holysocks
,
Virgil
Willard
says...
Time to do NaPo again, you know?
Title is in reference to a metaphor that has been floating in my head for a while
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 0
Reviews: 494
Fri Mar 23, 2018 6:30 pm
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PrincessInk
,
keystrings
Holysocks
says...
Can I ask what the metaphor is? And if I can, will you tell me the answer?
100% autistic
Gender:
Points: 650
Reviews: 766
Fri Mar 23, 2018 6:54 pm
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keystrings
Brigadier
says...
may i ask what kind of crab cakes you're making, sir?
this:
Spoiler!
:
or this:
Spoiler!
:
the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Sun Apr 01, 2018 9:10 pm
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Evander
,
Charm
,
keystrings
,
Virgil
Willard
says...
day zero: pre napo writing
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Mon Apr 02, 2018 4:46 pm
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Charm
,
keystrings
,
Dulcet
Willard
says...
day 1
forgot to post this yesterday, because i was unable to finish it but here are the scraaps i had.
Christ,
there's a body beneath me;
another white kid
on the middle passage.
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Mon Apr 02, 2018 5:21 pm
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Charm
,
keystrings
,
Dulcet
Willard
says...
day 2
an experiment.
Do You Yiff?
i don't know how to write poetry,
and i probably won't
for the next few days.
everything i've written
has had a furry motif.
this is really garbage.
i have a talent show script to write.
and ap gov homework.
and i love you all.
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Wed Apr 04, 2018 3:52 am
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keystrings
,
spectator
,
Charm
,
Audy
,
Meshugenah
Willard
says...
i've waited for you to squeeze me
and feel the chinese newspaper
under my ribs.
in the black summer sun,
we cld keel over in the sand
and watch small flares
infract the perfect circle
we'd been staring at
miles apart.
i kiss with my eyes open.
maybe you'll see it.
maybe we'll see
carved skin
we don't want to expose
to anyone else.
or maybe,
everyone finds me
see through.
and my quest for transparency
rendered null
all my complexities.
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Thu Apr 05, 2018 10:02 pm
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keystrings
,
Charm
,
Audy
Willard
says...
poem from yesteryear
I can be Magneto,
if I was bald.
But I'd need
to lose the ability
to walk.
Good thing
I'm a reckless driver.
I'll take my hands
off the wheel
and see where life takes me.
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
Gender:
Points: 5533
Reviews: 696
Mon Apr 09, 2018 6:12 pm
Audy
says...
I love the carefreeness of your poems, their embracing of the humor and the meta, the vulnerable, the quest of transparency as one said
Good luck in your AP exams too!
'Tis the season! Donate your poetry.
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417
Mon Apr 23, 2018 12:17 am
Willard
says...
One-Off: bodies without organs; in iowa, in washington
you told me you lactate,
but you bleed instead.
a stream leads
from lips to navel.
you busted them
with strangers,
with the pavement.
you aren't a mother.
you love.
i think you love me.
you ask for two hands
under your ribcage,
feel the cribs
we'll have to build.
this is how you love me.
this is how we'll love.
a nuclear family.
a nuclear husband
and nuclear wife
fusing legs-in-legs.
you whisper
i'll be perfect.
in your heart,
there's something
in your womb
resembling us.
but you tell me
when you ovulate
and when your
split lips drip.
"the future,
the future".
you paint my face
every word.
and you see it,
the hole in your stomach,
my hands
trying to hide it.
forever.
we'll love forever.
except for now,
you say.
but afterwards.
forever.
but.
you hang on the but.
a sign of doubt.
no sign of motherhood.
we'll lay in your blood
until there's birth
for who knows how long.
"Words say little to the mind compared to space thundering with images and crammed with sounds."
stranger, strangelove, drstrangelove, strange, willard
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I like anchovies~ but nobody calls me that.
— alliyah
Gender:
Points: 500
Reviews: 417