A Poem A Day: Possible Activities

apoemaday:

by Margaret Atwood

You could sit on your chair and pick over the language
as if it were a bowl of peas.
A lot of people do that.
It might be instructive.
You don’t even need the chair,
You could juggle plates of air.

You could poke sticks through the chain-link fence
at your brain, which you…

All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

apoemaday:

by J.R.R. Tolkien

All that is gold does not glitter;
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither;
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken;
A light from the shadows shall spring.
Renewed shall be blade that was broken;
The crownless again shall be king.

disneyfaceswap: blazinwolf submitted.
But you do … sort of … I mean — don’t you think you’ve got a bit of a — a — saving people thing?
there-is-no-box: nuggetsbecrispy: aviatorshadesarecool: cumberqueen: trainwreckreation: lemon-sprinkles: I cannot get over Achilles’ face in this painting. Holy shit.  He’s totally like: “Oh god, mom, put a fucking shirt on, I mean, what are you even doing? Can’t you see I’m busy lamenting the death of my boyfriend? Like I really need to see your tits at a time like this— YOU’RE SO EMBARRASSING MOM GAWD.”  And the rest of the Greeks are jazz-handsing in the background. They’re all ‘WOAH LOOK AT THAT TOTALLY WICKED SET OF TITS— I MEAN ARMOUR. WOAH’ Let me just say that this is the best interpretation of a painting I have ever seen ^^^^ no mom mom no NO omygods We got a badass over here

A Marriage

apoemaday:

by R.S. Thomas

We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love’s moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
‘Come,’ said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance. And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird’s grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.