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IT'S ALWAYS 11:11 SOMEWHERE

Poems, rants, and nerd periphery from Rob Sturma.
Apr 18 '14

thebodyisnotanapology:

Instructions for a Body by Marty McConnell

[transcript below]

I am surprised that Marty McConnell’s “Instructions for a Body” hasn’t made it onto our tumblr before now! It was one of my first body anthem poems: pieces that made me feel more at home with myself. I’m happy to be the one to share it here.

The picture painted in this poem is of the magnificent body, the one that is a gift in every shape it arrives in or comes to. An absent gallbladder deserves the same reverence as fingertips. Muscles and aches are praised together. Although the title labels the poem “instructions,” there is nothing prescriptive here, except a directive to take joy and embrace your own body and its capacities. Marty instructs gratitude and celebration. She pays careful attention to the details of the body and its miracles, then leaves the living up to the listener. I think we can take it from here.


[Transcript:

“Praise the miracle body:

The odd and undeniable mechanics of hand,

Hundred-boned foot,

Perfect stretch of tendon.

Praise the veins that river these wrists.

Praise the prolapsed valve in a heart.

Praise the scars marking a gallbladder absent.

Praise the rasp and rattle of functioning lungs.

Praise the pre-arthritic ache of elbows and ankles.

Praise the life line sectioning a palm.

Praise the photographic pads of fingertips.

Praise the vulnerable dip at the base of a throat.

Praise the muscles surfacing on an abdomen.

Praise these arms that carry babies and anthologies.

Praise the leg hairs that sprout and are shaved.

Praise the ass that refuses to shrink or be hidden.

Praise the cunt that bleeds and accepts,

Bleeds and accepts.

Praise the prominent ridge of nose.

Praise the strange convexity of rib cage.

Praise the single hair that insists on growing  from a right areola.

Praise the dent where the mole was clipped from the back of a neck.

Praise these inner thighs brushing.

Praise these eyelashes that sometimes turn inward.

Praise these hips preparing to spread into a grandmother’s skirt.

Praise the beauty of the freckle on the first knuckle of a left little finger.

We’re gone  

In a blizzard of seconds.

Love the body human while we’re here,

A gift of minutes on an evolving planet,

A country in flux.

Give thanks for bone and dirt

And the million things that will kill us someday,

Motion and the pursuit of happiness, no guarantees.

Give thanks

For chaos theory, ecology, common sense

That says we are web,

A planet in balance or out,

That butterfly in Tokyo setting off thunderstorms in Iowa.

Tell me you don’t matter to a universe that conspired

To give you such a tongue,

Such rhythm or rhythmless hips,

Such opposable thumbs.

Give thanks or go home a waste of spark.

Speak or let the maker take back your throat.

March or let the creator rescind your feet.

Dream or let your god destroy your good and fertile mind.

This is your warning.

This your birthright.

Do not let this universe regret you.]

Apr 18 '14

There’s Not A Name Yet

When I watch The Muppet Movie,
I get a little curly for “Rainbow Connection”,
but crack in half when Gonzo sings his campfire ballad.

All that small hope hits me like a boomerang fish.

Apr 18 '14

meganfalley:

"What the Hour Hand Said to the Minute Hand", a poem by Megan Falley, has been turned into a stunning & evocative short film guaranteed to give you the feels.

Apr 18 '14
"Look, without our stories, without the true nature and reality of who we are as People of Color, nothing about fanboy or fangirl culture would make sense. What I mean by that is: if it wasn’t for race, X-Men doesn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for the history of breeding human beings in the New World through chattel slavery, Dune doesn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for the history of colonialism and imperialism, Star Wars doesn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for the extermination of so many Indigenous First Nations, most of what we call science fiction’s contact stories doesn’t make sense. Without us as the secret sauce, none of this works, and it is about time that we understood that we are the Force that holds the Star Wars universe together. We’re the Prime Directive that makes Star Trek possible, yeah. In the Green Lantern Corps, we are the oath. We are all of these things—erased, and yet without us—we are essential."

Junot Díaz, “The Junot Díaz Episode" (18 November 2013) on Fan Bros, a podcast “for geek culture via people of colors” (via kynodontas)

Let em know dad.

(via kenobi-wan-obi)

I think the next time someone gets confused as to possibly why people were hoping Katniss would be portrayed as nonwhite, this quote above is why.

(via thelouringlady)

And there will be people who still refuse to get it…..

(via helenaisis)

Apr 18 '14

heinekenrana:

Every. Time.

(Source: kobaebryant)

Apr 17 '14
Apr 16 '14

Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before my brilliant ex-girlfriend put me in a poem out in public. It’s uncanny how she was kind and cruel all at the same time. And I guess that’s what closure looks like.

Apr 16 '14
Apr 16 '14
Apr 16 '14

And in other news, yesterday I was singing along to “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon” and stopped halfway in because I felt reeeeeally creepy.