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Everything posted by thepensword

  1. whale bones

    i am walking through the carcass of a whale there are great bones around me, massive ribcage— they are towers, or bars, or the walls of a home. is there marrow within them? or poetry? i thought the whale would fade after beaching but it did not— when it did i thought it would wither. perhaps it did, but the carcass remains; i am walking through the carcass of a whale and wondering how long before the wind carves the bones to dust. farewell to the orange sky. farewell to the cicada call in the summer evenings. food is still good past its expiration date and sometimes daylight clings beyond the setting sun but when the midnight comes, will it bring waves to cleanse the beach? when i return come morning, will the whale be gone? i whisper poetry to the inside of a whale carcass and wonder how long i have left. ~~~~~~~ ((AN: there's a weird, half-life atmosphere to the slam now. it's like all the rats abandoned ship but the ship hasn't sunk yet. the slam was supposed to go down but it's still here and it's like walking through purgatory. it's like it's here but it isn't and i'm hurting to see how long it will last.))
  2. discord

    @bluebird okay so just accept my discord friend request and i can add you. i'm thepensword there too
  3. discord

    @bluebird i'm gonna try and add you directly
  4. Hey everyone. As you probably now know, the slam is closing. I want to start by saying this has been a wonderful journey that I’m so glad to have shared with you all and I’ll be sad to see it go. HOWEVER. This does not have to be the end! As stated in @queenie_flower ‘s post “abandon ship”, there is a secondary slam archive in the works. Additionally, for those of you who were here to have a safe space and who wish to keep in contact, there is and has been for a while now a slam discord group. Here’s the link: https://discord.gg/D5HkXuU I’ve set it to not expire but if somehow it does, you can contact me on tumblr as @/thepensword or via email at the.pen.sword1@gmail.com . Please don’t be afraid to reach out if you need it. It has been great knowing you all and I wish you the very best in future endeavors. -Jess
  5. Information on Staying In Touch! IMPORTANT!!!!!!

    I'm posting the link again because apparently the above link expired even though I told it not to? Here: https://discord.gg/uTNAYjt
  6. Pictures of Fireworks

    this is lovely and beautiful descriptions and i love it but also cass sounds like @queenie_flower
  7. oxygen

    i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t....breathe oxygen stale in caved-in lungs breath beating wings, frantic inside birdcage set my canary free let me breathe give me oxygen i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t.... the funny thing, says the narrator with wise, weary knowing, is that she actually can breathe just fine. there’s no cage—only the monsters snarling in her paranoid, runaway thoughts in the corners of her warped and worried mind (you’ve always been a worrier) let my canary free of the darkness and the fear (i can’t breathe—you can. i can’t—you’re fine. are you sure? how can you ever be sure?)
  8. dear men

    dear men: why? i try to assume the best of people but god, you sure make it hard listen i'm sure you meant the best when you asked about my cosplay, but then i told you and you didn't leave you didn't leave you didn't leave maybe you thought that was fine but you're over a foot taller than me and please, i just want to get up that escalator look. imagine me, sitting there, waiting for my friend (we were walking together but i got tired of waiting; here's why) you call me 'pretty sexy', sitting there in full cosplay. are you from lord of the rings? did you see my hands tighten around the umbrella? could you hear my heart stutter? 'sorry, pretty,' you say, like that makes it better (spoiler: it doesn't. i know it's in your head.) i smile because i don't know what else to do. please leave. 'meet us at the restaurant,' says my mother, 'we thought the meet up would take longer' i knew it wouldn't. i tell her that. i walk four blocks and i'm nervous as hell little me in the city, dressed in a goddamn blonde wig and short shorts and crop top 'hey, baby,' says the man on the bench. i will beat you with this umbrella dear men: i am not your piece of meat. let's go back a few weeks. picture me, laughing, full-face of makeup: 'oh, do me next,' i laugh. 'how old do you think i am?' '24.' '17.' he holds his hands out for handcuffs. my laughter turns false. i don't want your wink and smile over the glass countertop. i just want my sandwich. dear men: i am not a slice of ham at the deli. i am not a cold drink for you to sip. i am not a statue or a piece of art. i am five feet tall with zero muscle and i will lay you flat with this umbrella. i'm seventeen years old. don't make me. technically i'm bisexual. there's a reason i focus mostly on girls. want to guess the reason? in summary: men. why? AN: why are men like this why why why this poem sucks but i don't even care i just want to get it out there that i am pissed off and done
  9. sugar coated

    queenie are you okay
  10. Overheard Quotes

    *emphatically* “It’s not an eggplant!!” *sulkily* “it’s a caterpillar....”
  11. Overheard Quotes

    "If the lord gave you selfies, why wouldn't he let you take them in his house?" "I don't want any! FUCK bread!" "You don't like french fries you don't get an opinion." "Will you be my barbecue dad?" "I'll be your barbecue daddy."
  12. thoughts on oil-paint vacation

    whisper farewell with tears in throat and fly with anxiety and excitement; escape one life to visit another here is a world that is quiet and calm (except at night or in the early morning; afternoon stillness is a deception, for at night comes the singing and the drums.) and the bells—oh, the bells. ceaseless chime from yonder tower over orange-tile rooftops. green shutters open over cobblestone streets with cafe tables and people walking, wind blows heat past into something not-quite reaching coolness. come with me to the garden and look out to the hills; they tower as mountains, nestled with houses like anthills in fields or beehives on branches i hate it here, says the beautiful girl with the rolling words. i want to visit your home think of the gray asphalt streets and the crooked stop signs the grass is always greener on the other side, the sky always a deeper shade of blue. sometimes i want to go home. marbles in feet and sweat between thighs, but oh, how are voices ring. there is difficulty in distance; and a sort of detachment from reality is this my life? is this my world? this is a liminal space that exists in the moment and will remain in photographs; across the waves, my family still slumbers as the noonday sun rises above my head. will i remember this when i return? will i forget the details—the smile of the barista, the stray cat crouched in the shade? will i forget the deafening wind in the microphones? i think i will not forget the hills, rolling and fantastical; at the very least, i will have the evidence saved for later viewing. at last visit, i painted this scene; i could not capture its essence. but evidence, i think, will remain in the deep pockets of my voice, and my song will linger in the corners of cathedrals.
  13. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    @Fullmetal Sorcereroh my god yes of course that's perfect
  14. giving myself up

    a reply because i am legitimately choked up right now: you have always sounded like you even when i did not know your voice. if you had asked me then what i thought you sounded like, i would have said i did not know, and that would be the truth. i didn't then, and i'm not sure i remember now, but the voice that is queenie is queenie's voice even when voiceless. i don't remember gasping. i'm sure that i did. not from shock but from excitement. my heart was pounding then, too. i am terrified of phone calls, especially with all of you who i have never met. but i do not remember gasping because queenie's voice is so present that even voiceless i know less what it sounds like and more what it feels like, because queenie is queenie who is kind and sarcastic and casually calls me "sweetie" or "babe". i used to be afraid to share my face, to share my name. trust is a gift that cannot be rescinded. but i gave you my trust and you gave me yours back with face and voice and name and that is precious, queenie, as you are precious, as the others precious, as this will always be precious to me. and even if i do not know you and perhaps never will, i feel that i do. none of you will know the red of my cheeks when it's hot out or my expression when concentrating, teeth biting lips or tongue sticking out. none of you will know the pictures on my bedroom walls and the silent sound of my laughter when i am laughing at my hardest. you will not know these things about me, and i will not know these things about you, but you know already the inner monologue that becomes text on the off-black discord wall and i know your monologues. i know your voices. i know you and i love you.
  15. giving myself up

    queenie oh my god this is so sweet i'm crying i love you so much
  16. the one who tamed the wolf

    There was a beast in the woods. Every night, its chilling cries soared above the trees to claw at the moon, and every night the townspeople shuddered with fear. “Stay inside,” said the mother to her child, or the young man to his lover. “Stay inside when the sun dips below the horizon. Stay inside and be wary of that which lies in the darkness.” The people heeded this, for the most part. But sometimes, sometimes, someone would grow careless, or reckless, or simply forget. ~~~ “I will slay the wolf,” said the young woodcutter to his master. “I have grown strong and my axe is sharp. I will release us from the clutches of fear.” And his master shook his head and begged him to stay, but his apprentice would not be swayed. He entered the woods as the sun dipped low, the world cast into shades of purple and gold, and that is the last he was ever seen. His mother wept at his loss and the townspeople held their children close. ~~~ “Do not go into the woods,” warned the baker of the young woman who planned to go searching for berries that day. “Stay in the meadows, and be home before dark.” “I know,” said the young woman, and did as she was bade, but as the day lengthened and her basket filled with the bright red of berries, she lost track of time and found herself alone at the edge of the wood as the sun began to set. The next morning, her lover found her basket lying solitary at the edge of the meadow, stained with a red that was not just berry juice. ~~~ “Do not go into the woods,” said the townspeople. “Beware the wolf.” ~~~ She came at the end of summer. She was old and wizened, her face lined like a canyon and her hair like woven silver, but she carried herself with a dignity that belied her wisdom and experience. The townspeople welcomed her honorably and offered her a place to spend the night, but she merely smiled at them and told them she had business to attend to. “Surely not at night,” said the townspeople, and when her smile did not falter, they hastened to warn her. Stay inside. Do not go into the forest. There’s a monster in that forest. “I have business to attend to,” repeated the woman, and she would not be stopped. The people watched her go with sadness, for they knew they would never see her again. But the woods did not ring with wolf-song that night, and the moon was pale instead of yellow. ~~~ “Come home,” whispered the woman, unafraid of the snarling beast that poised to strike before her. “It’s been too long already. Please, it’s time to go home.” The shadows lengthened and an owl called in the distance, and as the night filled with magic the beast faded away. The woman held out her hand and the fingers that met it were human. She looked into the deep eyes of man she had once called her son and smiled a small, sad smile. ~~~ When morning came, the townspeople opened their doors with heavy hearts, but the sight they were met with was a remarkable one. The woman was alive, untouched and smiling, and she was hand in hand with a tired man whose eyes were ringed with purple shadow. “What did you do?” asked the townspeople. “What about the wolf?” The woman bowed her head and squeezed her son’s hand tightly. “Oh,” she said. “You will no longer need to worry about the wolf.” And her words rang with truth, because the wolf’s cry was never heard again.
  17. the one who tamed the wolf

    @queenie_flower ok fine i'll accept that but you're on thin fucking ice (i'm kidding of course i love you queenie)
  18. the one who tamed the wolf

    @queenie_flower ok so first i'm not whether i should be offended or flattered but probably both and more importantly, second, since when do you have tumblr????
  19. Overheard Quotes

    "God I gotta do something about all these ones in my wallet" "Go to a strip club"
  20. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Angler. Real-life Pinterest Shopkeep. Human. Ambiguous age. A very eclectic sort of person, Angler has been in the town for longer than most can remember. In fact, they have only been here for a little over 20 years, but they have become such a feature in the town that everyone's memory has grown selective and people are always doubtful when thinking of a time in which Angler was not a resident. Their shop is an interesting place full of anything and everything, but mostly they deal in ideas. Their shelves are lined with bottles and parchments and also some very nice bargain craft supplies, and they will welcome you in with a smile and a cup of tea. Be wary, however; do not wake their cat, for it is older even then they and are the cruelty and scorn to their hospitable welcomes.
  21. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Brandy. 73. Human. Wizard. Once upon a time he was powerful. Now he runs a clothing shop. Well, "runs" is a loose term. Mostly he sleeps in his chair and trusts his well-cast spells to keep people from taking things without depositing the proper payment in the money jar. He wears nothing but his robes (which are nearly as old as he is and are beginning to show it) and various pairs of brightly colored socks. The socks are the pride of his collection and are horrendously overpriced, so no one ever buys them. This is a clever but transparent ploy to hoard them all for himself.
  22. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Dragonfly. Tiefling. 25. Technically a bard but she's tone-deaf so she's not a very good bard. Currently works at a tavern as a waiter. Occasionally pulls out her lute, stands on a table, sings as loudly as she can, and then gets put on cleaning duty for the night and told in no uncertain terms not to do it again. Has been fired and re-hired like a bajillion times.
  23. continental drift

    there is an entire science to the tectonic plates. but we are not continents, so why are you so far away?