tannertan36
taylor price
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Love Begins
Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
cherry valley forever
ojovivo
shark vs the universe
Cosimo Galluzzi
tumblr dot com
izzy's playlists!
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor
Xuebing Du
Show & Tell
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art blog(derogatory)
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@thepsychespasttime
The ‘Monument to the Laboratory Mouse’ is a statue that commemorates the great sacrifice mice have made to medical and scientific research.⠀ ⠀ It is located in front of the Institute of Cytology and Genetics of the Russian Academy of Sciences, in Novosibirsk, Russia.
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I have become ugly, Uglier in my own eyes, After the deceitful words, And all the devastating lies. Once I thought, I could be someone’s world, But I instead became, Someone’s hell unfurled. Curled into a ball, Churned in its maw, The void that is your mouth, Forever since then, I have been going south. South by infernal south, The devil has his own infernal tout, That there, where all ugliness reigns, My descent, There’s no stopping its reins. Ugly, deformed, unloved, Who would want an unlovely face, When you could live your decadence, In your own beautiful pace? Be honest, Falling in love with a beast, Is a ridiculous case. There’s no reason to feast, But to feast on your stupidity at least. Spit out the kiss, Vomit what you said you always miss. Scorn, this is the devil’s bliss, Dying wouldn’t be remiss.
“Better one friend who’s always there, than a hundred who never even cared.”
— quality over quantity
no love, whatsoever. forever, never knows love. sow love, reap what severs. cut, cut, cut, incise, the heart that tethers. let blood gush forth, let sin make sort, all the love in the world, by men, distort. Babylon, your lovely consort, twist this phallus, tie the knot, and in unholy matrimony, union be acrimony, then bonds, contort. discomfort is thy comfort, die again, and again, in Hell’s fiery court.
so love again, sin and then, depravity knows when, damnation will send.
such a sad existence
to exist and merely survive
survival of the fittest
and if I'm barely what fit is
then I'm just meant to die
no control of the die
whatsoever
and if I do have
it's probably a lie
a statistical anomaly
if ever
If ever I die
that way
then there's a small chance
that I didn't just pass by
with living in probability
made the most out of it
to the best of my ability
An ability to live life
To the fullest
Must be a life well-lived
Even if it's the shortest
The Short end doesn't matter
For matter shortened
By life's hereafter
And after life's done
It's never dead and gone
For a short time
Even the after life
Will never deny
What time had done.
Jesus once said
It is done
Or so they say
And now
His words are never gone
It's where people's hearts lay
But then again
He's different
What about
What heaven never sent
Meant for the Earth
Those who couldn't see
Nor feel their worth?
They
Were worth all the time
Nine months
More or less
Give and hope to take
My statement
Still stands the same
A sad life
is never a sad existence
For existence is ever neutral
Life's always been of good
It has been, ever since
To exist is to survive
But life's meant for one
To live and be truly alive
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Blind lead the blind, Trying to find, What they could never try to find, Left behind, looking right behind, Trying to mind, What they should never try to mind.
Introspection, Only when convenient. Self-assessment, In troubled waters. Turbulence, Calms my river, Death, Calls me to life. In sickness and poor health, Emotions, find their wealth, For only when the cards are dealt, Are my priorities only spelt.
I am everywhere But nowhere in particular
A sordid mess Never singular
It’s like a blade by my jugular Afraid Yet continuing to wade In lakes of danger On a regular basis
Get the spade Watch as I fade Bury me with diamonds As I die Grave-robbers and burglars Would make a map Out of where I lie
Hearts are unsure No straight point Their minds bent angular So they depend on luck Their wishes afar Their dying wishing stars Praying to a four-leaf clover Lifeless and hopeless Like a bug meant to be trapped In a jar
A full house of uncertainty A royal flush of insanity Where do I go? What do I choose? A shadow that tries to live Without the sun A jack of all trades A master of none Not a king Not a queen A soul with numbered days Black and blue And red with blood My ace is to be dead and gone
No right and wrong Freedom Within me all along No sense Of either-or Dulls the sense That makes what's worth fighting for Non-human For no one's Ever too free The only thing I can see Is death following me Wrong's worth experience The pattern of change The foundation of co-existence Right and wrong Is freedom itself For to choose Is the person's sense of self
Here comes again that existential dread, That existential thread, That looms over like existential death. Dead and gone, With no words said, To comfort, to reassure, But only assuredly bled. Bleeding, I’m dying! But I’m living, As if life’s just lying. Lie down, lay down, On your bed, Or in a dug ground. This town can only make me frown, I’m lying in both senses, Overthinking, Ugly thoughts in my stead. Get this out of my head! Existential dread, existential dread, Is all that I’m fed, So starve me instead, I might be as good as dead.
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I need this cat in my life.
There’s something about lines, That don’t rhyme, that get me. Without it, is it really, Still poetry?
Don’t get me wrong, It’s still fine, To hear a song, Without patterns for so long. But maybe I just got used to it, So much so, that every bit, Of consecutive sounds should sit, With as much as rhyme, As there is wit.
A dime for the rhymer, Those who don’t, Should they do their time? Give them their time! But in the spotlight, Right now, I’m contradicting, Myself, whether it’s wrong or right.
But you can’t weather, Something that’s either wrong or right. The argument withers away, And a debate couldn’t find a way, For a discussion to have the right of way, And dialogue can not not see the light of day,
So what I’m here to say, Is that poetry is what it is: Lines, rhyme or no rhyme, Metered with time, or no time, With no time to waste, If it can make a lovely time, Out of speaking of things such as waste, And whether it’s done slowly or in haste- It doesn’t have to rhyme, does it? As long as it fits, And its words that you knit, Then it’s as good as complete, Good as yours, As it is mine.
The sun shines through my window, I am alive. The leaves rustle, Nature and God connive. They tell me of this life, My life, with love, love that is rife. Things seem right, A cast of gleeful, yellow light, Dances with the branches, I am one with them, I believe our souls are one, And it lovingly attaches, My heart, its roots, Photons and its bright fruits, His awe-inspiring omnipotence, And all of love’s omnipresence.
I love you, Mom. I’m sorry, I couldn’t say this to you, Out loud. I say this, in case you outlive me. Let me live with and in your love, Let me love you through and with God.
It’s scary to see some, Changes in the body: Changes you yourself gave, Changes that the cruel world has given. It’s a given: Change is the only constant, Constantly changing, Changing constantly.
Body changes, With scars that had screamed, “I’ve given up!” And wounds that always seem, “I’m giving up.” This scarred masterpiece, Discarded by the cruel world, With cool carelessness, But cared for only by change.
The body does its work, And cares for you and your careless work, Keeping you alive, Always trying to survive. The pus, the rot, the blood, the clot, The scars, the wounds, the lesions, the incisions, Holes that couldn’t heal too soon, And fractures born out of haphazard decisions. It’s keeping itself alive, It’s giving you everything to survive.
Changes, old age, Old and new, Try to keep you engaged, To life and all its dismay, All the lonely nights, And the hopeful days. Changes must happen, Changes are always true, Change is death that hadn’t, Come for you-life sees this through and through.
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During an expedition of the South Pole, a dog enjoys the gramophone, 1911.
roadtrip jams
Where can I buy her album tho
13/10 would buy it tbh
is that Adele’s dog? gotta be
This dog sings better than 80% of these other bitches
Bitch the VIBRATO
