what willy loman said by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
what willy loman said
i keep trying to tell you that
the woods are burning, the ocean is flooding,
but you think it’s the summer heat
and the summer rain and you think
this is how it has to be
but it doesn’t it doesn’t
it doesn’t—
and you don’t leave
because you think we have time, but the smoke
is a noose i could hang myself with and
we got jewels and riches and coins but
we don’t got a damn second.
a list of things colleges don't want to know by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
a list of things colleges don't want to know
1. i have a cactus named atticus that i bought
on the day i thought i was going to die,
and i never forget to water it, not
even when i forget how it feels
to breathe without my lungs rebelling
against my brain.
2. sometimes talking feels like walking on gravel
in a Georgian summer heat.
i try to keep talking anyway,
and hope that eventually
my voice will lose its softness and grow calluses.
3. once, a man whistled at me
outside of a grocery store from
the safety of his car.
four years later, i still haven’t stopped looking
over my shoulder.
4. i drive too fast and i take turns too sharply
and i never put enough sugar
in my tea
an open letter to my twelve year old self by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
an open letter to my twelve year old self
one day you will cut all your hair off,
and hang up a map of the world in your
room and you will look at it on days
you think your life is going nowhere.
i hate to tell you this, but this isn’t
your worst year. it also isn’t your
best.
one day you will cut all your hair off
and realize that some poems need to be read
out loud, to an audience, so you’ll take a hammer
and some nails and build yourself one
out of a girl whose veins look fragile but
whose bones are strong, a boy who isn’t as tall as
he thinks he is, but whose lifelines are the deepest
you’ve ever seen, and a girl whose eyes remind you of the
east
high school’s getting a bit tough
and i just wanted to know if you’ve ever
looked in the mirror and thought that maybe
your five year old self was disappointed in you.
just wanted to ask if maybe you’re disappointed in me,
just wanted to tell you that this is a lot harder
than i thought it would be when i was five because
people are a lot more different now than they were then.
they're a lot better. and a lot worse and things are a lot
more complicated now that i realize the gerbil i had
when i was six didn’t just “fall asleep” while i was holding it
and the cat i had when i was eight didn’t really
sometimes, you meet people who are storms
in bottles, who are ships cast away on rocky
coastlines, contained in a mason jar. sometimes
you meet volcanoes in human skin, earthquakes
with a laugh that sounds like skipping rocks
on summer colored lakes. sometimes, you meet
people who are whirlwinds wrapped up in muscle and bone,
who are more miracle than mistake.
i think about that a lot when i look at her.
to be fair, she is nothing more than me and you
but she has a hurricane brewing in her eyes
and dandelions growing through the cracks
in her sidewalks and i think that’s wondrous
enough.
i know our lungs are the same—on mondays
for every road trip, past present and future by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
for every road trip, past present and future
a long stretch of highway.
night, glittering against the road reflectors.
overhead, a plane roars to meet us.
he leans over to me. “want to race it?” he asks
and the girl in the front seat steps on the gas,
propelling us forward and forward
into the reaching blackness.
a plane eats miles like it’s a man just released off of a diet
and presented with a free buffet.
comparatively, a car eats them like a starving man
just given with a banquet but can only
stomach a leaf. there’s no chance we could possibly
outpace this plane. we cheer anyway.
we cheer not because we think we can win,
but because for a moment
Leonard Nimoy: Millennial Renaissance Man by techgnotic, journal
Leonard Nimoy: Millennial Renaissance Man
Archive
Millennial Renaissance Man ACTOR, DIRECTOR, POET, PHOTOGRAPHER LEONARD NIMOY PASSES INTO ETERNITY
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SPOCK by Henry Fong
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In a business of massive ego and terrible behavior directed at slicing and dicing their competition, Leonard Nimoy was known as a total gentleman, a class act all the way and a consummate professional at every turn.
For several generations around the globe he will be forever “Mr. Spock,” the half-human, half-Vulcan first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, a United Federation starship exploring
The Lonely Whale's Cry for Love by techgnotic, journal
The Lonely Whale's Cry for Love
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The Lonely Whale’s Cry for Love
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Aquarian
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52 Hertz Whale:
Is Anyone Out There?
Each year he makes his migration south from the Aleutian Islands to a breeding area in the Pacific Ocean parallel to Central California, looking for a mate. Unlike other blue and fin whales, his more than 6000 miles a year round-trip swim is a solitary one. He does not travel along with the blues or the fins, because he is neither. He is most probably either a hybrid blue whale or he is deformed. Sight and smell are virtually worthless as
Charles Darwin:Powerful Legacy For Science And Art by techgnotic, journal
Charles Darwin:Powerful Legacy For Science And Art
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CHARLES DARWIN: A Powerful Legacy for Science and Art
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Darwins inheritance II
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February 12 marks Charles Darwin’s 206th birthday.
His career was long and illustrious, and he conceived one of the most influential ideas of all time: the theory of evolution. This theory states that life on earth slowly changed and developed over millions of years, with each species passing along the traits that made them better suited to survive in their environments. This concept is commonly referred to as “survival of the fittest.”
i saw you today, for the first time in months.
i admit, it took me a few seconds to remember
all the words to the song you played on repeat in
your car, the one you couldn’t sing with open eyes.
the music used to come so easily to me,
but when i saw you today, i could only remember
the chorus, and it stuttered its way through my head
over and over again. for the life of me, i don’t know
what comes next.
i have spent years picking up the pieces of you
that you left behind, years spent memorizing
the echo of your heartbeat and the rhythm of
your breaths. your favorite color is purple.
you like sunflowers, autumn, and the creek
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