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Oh, hello there!

@pastelpirate

Ziggy
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A radioactive fox with anger problems.
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reblogged

Tinker Bell - Concept Art by Denise Blakely

- ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ -

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Pixie Hollow Online - Environments by Ben Smith

- ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ -

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reblogged

Pixie Hollow Online - Environment by Ben Smith

- ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ -

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This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8

I hate that my aesthetic sense agrees with this but everything you just said was correct

I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.

This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.

As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: “fuck him on the floor.” The use of “chintz” is indeed great word choice.

Because I’m insane, decided to scan the poem:

Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.

There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of “keep it real” juxtaposed with “chintz.” It causes me to interpret the “chintz” more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of “fuck,” which is a contrast with “chintz” but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where “chintz” is flimsy and inanimate.

And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is “filled with chintz”—something that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with “keep it real.”

The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.” That’s a story, and it’s just two lines.

This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, y’all. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.

From a technical standpoint (and ive taken 300- and 400-level poetry classes so I can say this) this is damn near flawless as a poem.

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Everybody went through that stage when they first joined Tumblr where they were embarrassingly comfortable with adding shitty comments to everything they reblogged.

OMG TOTALLY HAHA!!! XD

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pastelpirate

I didn't have that phase and I've decided I will have it now

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inber

Before I downloaded tiktok I was fairly ambivalent towards frogs. I thought they were neat lil' dudes, but rarely did I ponder their existence.

Enter lesbian tiktok. For some reason, the algorithm goes, "oh, we see you like women, gays, lgbtq+, non binary folk......may we interest you in.....frogges?"

At first I was like what? Uh. Yeah, okay, I guess. But then something awakens within you. With each frog, a new joy. How did I not know this about myself? Frogs are gay. The homosexual agenda: frogs.

My favourite animals are still bears and the noble guinea pig, but frogs, man. Frogs.

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that urge to climb the rooftop of ur house. where does it come from.

the gargoyle instinct

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coolxatu

unquenchable desire to be the protag in an indie film about teenage disillusionment

All of my problems are at ground level

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pastelpirate

The floor is lava except it's just all of my responsibilities and existential dread.

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inber

This is the face of a man that wants to walk straight into the bog, never to be seen again... but is going to help anyway

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pastelpirate

STRAIGHT INTO THE BOG

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sandersgrey

Jaskier trying to hide the signs of his aging from Geralt.

Hair dye for his silver hairs is not that hard to find and stock up on. Reading glasses are a necessity by the time he's thirty-five, but he leaves the case in his pack and squints unless he knows Geralt is away.

Jaskier's joints are sore with the rain and the cold, and he makes up excuses when he can't completely hide the aches- Geralt has no reason to doubt him when he speaks of angry husbands or bar fights.

He's got a baby face and a very good skincare routine, but the fact that he can't do much about the small wrinkles frustrates and upsets him to no end.

One day, he knows, none of his effort will be enough to make up for the fact that he's human. One day, Geralt will realize how much harder it is for Jaskier to follow him now. Will the witcher leave him behind, then?

(But then there's the mountain.)

(Jaskier supposes that's his answer, then.)

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