Amateur
Once upon a recent time, there was a poet who hated rhyme. For each and every rhyming verse, he’d gnash his online teeth and curse, with all pretension he could muster that “coupled rhymes are so lackluster.”
And on he’d type, re: rhyming schemes, and freeform style’s “depths of themes". And that’s all fine and well and good: I just don’t think the critics should concern themselves re: all the fun that I’ve had ( i.e. writing this one).
My words don’t care for gnashed teeth, or high art skill, or market reach. So he can sit and seethe and gnash. But me? I’ll sit, relax and laugh, cobble rhymes both bad and worse, and sprightly spring ‘tween every verse.
-- rococobean
What's a character you were super into when you were like 12?
Oh my god, such a good question. 12 year old my was a fucking VORACIOUS reader, but the first thing that comes to mind is Artemis Fowl. Fam, I thought he was the absolute shit
The instrumental becomes intrinsic if you let it
so. bad news. we have to keep going tomorrow. good news is that I’ll keep going with you
sonnet for the uncanonical, 2025
written for two-bees escapril; the prompts are 'sonnet' (week one) and 'apocrypha' (day three). i will admit that this is probably only partially a sonnet; i've never been great with meter, but the rhyme scheme and structure is mostly there! i think. either way, i had fun challenging myself.
The one picture I got of the eclipse was through clouds
hey man I found a piece of your soul stuck in the text messages of old friends you don’t speak to anymore. do you want it back
As far as animals to be afraid of, deer rank pretty low. From afar, a deer is harmless certainly. Docile, wide eyes, silent staring before they bound away. But if you’ve ever been up close, that likely means you’ve found one trapped. Wounded maybe. Only then will you realize what fear does to a prey animal. If you wander too near, the acrid smell of desperation and deadly will to live is pungent in each flare of its nostrils. Then all of a sudden that deer seems much bigger, and fiercer, and you really ought to back away, but your brain works slower than its instincts, and you’re about to discover that hooves are like rocks and like knives, and those legs are longer and your head is closer than you would ever like. And for a split second, you, apex predator, will understand prey-fear.