mouthporn.net #prosecco – @astagesetforcatastrophe on Tumblr

a stage set for catastrophe

@astagesetforcatastrophe / astagesetforcatastrophe.tumblr.com

the whale & ever occasional poet who peels oranges in all the wrong way.

astagesetforcatastrophe

It is still peach season the morning you walk out the door. I make our bed too, you know. I suppose at this point I should be calling it “my bed” instead, but habits are hard to break. Then I rummage through the fridge. Wash a peach and split it apart clean down the middle. This is their season, but not ours, I guess. I take a bite of it and then wonder if we even had a season. I look to the window and then the door. Wondering at what point you will run through and bust it down like it is still your home.

Audrey Ying, draft of “i. peach season”

#burning muse #alt lit #prose #quotes #poetry #prosecco #poets on tumblr #poetscommunity #excerpt from a story i'll never write #love letters #love quote

astagesetforcatastrophe

do you forget you are better now? even when you wake up in the cornfields as a mouse and not inside the labyrinth of the bear’s belly? do you see yourself becoming less like vase? i do. it means the cough syrup is working like it should. it means only one-third of you dies when the window shuts now. it means you'll be holding onto whole again.

astagesetforcatastrophe, progress

#poetry #burning muse #alt lit #spilled ink #quotes #spilled thoughts #spilled words #ink #spilled poetry #prose poetry #prosetry #spilled prose #prose poem #prosecco #love quotes #love #lit #poems #poem

astagesetforcatastrophe

It’s not about whether I deserve you or you deserve me. It’s just what it is. Destiny says we’re going to be falling out of the sky and spend the next 55 years practicing the timing for the parachute opening. It predicts we will crash a million times before we get the landing just right, which is not to say we weren’t meant for each other but that there’s a “later” in our path. I mean, we might not even get it right as ghosts or thousands of lifetimes from now & that’s okay. I like thinking we followed the wrong breadcrumbs and we have years to backtrack. To try again. But my mother thinks that’s how everything was made: through trying times, through a gazillion lovers crashing into the earth time after time to make space for all the things we call oceans and valleys and hills and life. And you know what? I still believe her.

astagesetforcatastrophe, yoro

astagesetforcatastrophe

This time next year you watch the garden you grew say it wants nothing to do with you. It climbs above the shabby fences & into the next town. This time next year you are not afraid.

astagesetforcatastrophe, from “fences & getting over them”

astagesetforcatastrophe

It’s not obvious how the world survives. Does it stop on the porch and sigh? Call out to all its new aches like shepherd herding sheep? Exhausted trying to teach them all to grow thorns?

astagesetforcatastrophe, from “world cries wolf”

astagesetforcatastrophe reblogged

astagesetforcatastrophe

i am told the shortcut in the war comes after the turning point. so where is it for you & me? some old recurring dream tells my body it is in the retreat: that what keeps you alive is not what keeps you safe.

astagesetforcatastrophe, retreat (via astagesetforcatastrophe)

astagesetforcatastrophe

How easily you give away your soul to the mine fire. You are walking straight into the lion’s mouth like it is holy water & you are asking why you are suffering.

astagesetforcatastrophe, rhetorical

astagesetforcatastrophe

I open wide to eat his name. I must have been born blind to his sword.

astagesetforcatastrophe, this is how i go

astagesetforcatastrophe

i want to know how many years it is before i learn to stop leaving myself lost in the middle of the haunted forest. all the pigeons are flying when they hear something coming from behind. but in every version of you and me, my heart is a vehicle stopped on the shoulder ahead and there is always help coming too late. i am a quiet emergency & i’m still waiting for the magic spell that tells me how to make it to the other side.

astagesetforcatastrophe, haunted forest

astagesetforcatastrophe

but you loved him. and it was then that everything that could be wounded started sounding like a gong. like roosters crowing from the weathervane.

astagesetforcatastrophe, haemorrhage

astagesetforcatastrophe reblogged

astagesetforcatastrophe

yesterday, you throw up from hoarding too many old photographs of yourself when the world held you drowning. your stomach still hurts ten months later. in fact, it is a pomegranate gushing blood when it learns that love has past tense. that a letter tastes like a bullet. it is no wonder you are scared of what is sacred.

astagesetforcatastrophe, pomegranate

astagesetforcatastrophe

What is it about losing teeth that reminds us of each other? Maybe it's the part where our tongues have learned to stomach the iron. Or the little bit in us that still believes we can grow out of something missing & start over.

astagesetforcatastrophe, baby teeth

astagesetforcatastrophe reblogged

astagesetforcatastrophe

maybe it was the way i dreamt of myself lost in the beast for three days like jonah. that in the darkness of the belly, i wouldn’t write about you in a hymn to the aftermath. but i hear if you look hard enough, even the clouds are made of blades. and like riptides, it has to do with knowing what to do but not how to do it when the drowning comes. so i picture myself still waiting for you to end the way autumn burns into winter.

astagesetforcatastrophe, dream sequence

astagesetforcatastrophe

growing out of us is an art that seems empty now: conch shell like dropped calls from ancient battles and not sea shore. in that other world, our skeletons are constellations apart in the open bed our ghosts share and i am underneath the roads in my palms pretending i have known all along but it is a ritual of loss and i am in the middle of it all.

astagesetforcatastrophe, maps

astagesetforcatastrophe

it started when we lined three plates in a row and summoned the prophet to tell us when it would be over. your voice then devoured the wind alive & made the sun nervous watching us stretched out like echo. maybe in the new creation myth, we find blue. and no one speaks of science or hypotheses because it is always us choking the neck of the rivers.

astagesetforcatastrophe, superstition

astagesetforcatastrophe

How do you recognise the difference between rainwater for the baptism and the one for the dying when one minute the dining table is all peonies and the next it is a stretcher? And why is it that when you are not holding the pistol, you are always reaching for my hand? Will you tell me something then: when did they all look the same?

astagesetforcatastrophe, rainwater

astagesetforcatastrophe

I hunt down enough land for myself and find a way to dig up all that I deserve. Then I dream of good things: like how love comes to tie my body back to my bones & not yours.

astagesetforcatastrophe, from “rebirthing”

You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.

mouthporn.net