#dc#dc comics#batman#bruce wayne#dc universe#batfam#batfamily#dc fanart#dick grayson#tim drake
seen from Yemen
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seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Maldives
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If you can’t guess yet you’ll soon realize I’m obsessed with my cat; she’s the cutest in all of catdom!
~ Veresyn
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Cataclysm
she lifted the edge of the road like a canvas runner and started walking the rain drums the dust back down sets a pace to the war still ringing in her ears above, the clouds crowd against the ceiling now, even now with the dead sun bleeding light behind the mountains bruises from desperate hands smudged along her arms the road groaning in her fists as it’s dragged along
she has no patience left, only the will to outlast the rain drums the sparks out and the grit against the ground
tamp down bitter words for another time if there were to be another tamp down the earth with sore intent and under her feet the world was rising, the mountains shatter in the distance but the air won’t carry the sound she quickens her pace the sun leans bloodless against an unlit moon the clouds a silent, heavy witness as the end of the road starts burning like a comet tail like a last wish she has taken the road, and there is no horizon to run to
Because You Say So
then start the jokes even if the stereotypes held any truth which they don’t but you see what you want to see why would you question TV or society you don’t need to that is still a generalization there are always exceptions I guess individual is a word without weight if it was I’d throw it at your head why should it matter if this person is a mathematical genius or this one can pull the soul out of piano but is not so good with history facts or fumbled through language arts or was kind of average at everything but was just good why does that earn your derision? you, who can’t even finish a sentence or has a single friend that wouldn’t interrupt you but you aren’t racist because you married a “halfrican” oh, he may as well be white you say okay and you aren’t racist either you discriminate against everyone you hate all people there’s another word for that by the way we don’t start off equal so the damage your words do isn’t equally spread it doesn’t bother you so it shouldn’t bother anyone else a stellar line of reason and logic, not to mention empathy
and by the way maybe you could try being original instead of shooting targets already riddled with bullet holes maybe there are endless subjects in the world yet you’ve picked race again and again
but you aren’t racist - they’re just jokes just funny, funny jokes
130131
Maybe branches bend to witness tragedies and leaves fall, shaken by the screams, a final sigh Maybe trees just grow further from mortal ordeals and no one watches us follow the wrong gods home
The Harrowed
Sometimes a feeling passes through And if it was too fleeting or too weak I harvested its bones still slick with recent memory or time-polished and pulseless Sometimes a feeling passes through And if it ran I gave chase fingers glancing off wild flanks eyes dry or glazed with desperation my heart baying in my chest Later I’ll walk, salvaging the pieces shorn to reach the verge of change All lingering sentiment weathers here Unfinished skeletons and locked teeth bitterness lying by bittersweet hunger beside half-asleep The chaste and the sordid breeds of love, friendship, their mongrel offspring I fashion caricatures of suffering and rapture crude beasts of jealousy and shame curled fingers of fear and anticipation the long throats of surprised and sensuous Here’s a broken serenity, pieces from fury and wonder, the enduring For a moment I might be gloried by the smiles of the bewitched and the joyous For a moment I might be seized with violence born of loss or envy My experiences are fragments of someone else’s I strike down their unbodied forms unsorted jumbled devoid of articulation But when my hands are gentled by nostalgia I will tidy these bones again, again Sometimes a feeling passes over but I do not follow it out
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His Body
they often say a woman’s body is a marvel of curves but his body is all sweep and swell and arc to me
some curves spring up with tension some curves reveal themselves in the failed vigil of sleep his eyelashes whisper up in a delicate circumference
no his hip does not round into my hand as sweetly as a woman’s but lay him on his stomach you will see the hills of heel to calf to thigh and taut buttocks you can settle your head in the small of his back look up the rise of his shoulder blades his neck bends like any neck if you know what you are doing
120617
angry words are burning on my tongue
but I will not open my mouth
angry words are knocking against my teeth
but I will not open my mouth
I swallow the anger, still growling down my throat
it does not die in the acid of my stomach
it does not drown the deeper I push it
my blood is feverish, percolating
my thoughts have spun too long frustrated
I am dizzy with my quiet fury.
120403
He threw his arms about the moment so fast
it looked like rescue
- but there would never be time for a second breath
