I will be deleting this blog in the next few days and reposting my poetry on OpenDiary later. If you have an OD account and want to follow me there, send me an ask on my main blog (jujubiest) and I’ll give you my account name!

blythebrooklyn:

thisgirlcalledophelia:

leighalanna:

fandomsandfeminism:

bluemantle:

Recently my grandmother found out I’m queer. Her response was to tell me that she disapproves of me living with my “friend” (i.e. my girlfriend) and that I should give up my vile queer ways and become a Christian (Lol). She even sent me a bible.  Here are its remains, which I made into black-out poetry.

Poem 1: Bisexual (from Leviticus 19:9)— “Have sexual relations with her.  Have sexual relations with him.  Have sexual relations with both a woman and a man.  Have sexual relations with yourself. Vomit on everyone who does not respect you.”

Poem 2: Fisting (from Judges 8:5)— “water/ lap the water/ drink/go down to drink/your hands/go down/I give into your hands/go down/encouraged/down/on the seashore/the whole hand/your hand/inside/I get to the edge/and shout/grasping/crying out/Beth/Beth/Beth/Beth/Beth/God/I came”

Poem 3: A Letter to the Exiles (from Jeremiah 28:13) — “Ze said: ‘Do not let lies name you, nor harm your heart. Gather. Raise the sword against them. They scorn and reproach, for they have not listened— again and again have not listened.’ “

Poem 4: Child (from Ezekiel 16:22) — “Your father and your mother rubbed salt in. No one looked on you with pity or had compassion enough for you, for on the day you were born you were despised. Live! Grow.  I looked at you and saw you were enough.”

Poem 5: Father (from Ezekiel 16:22) — “You never adored us. You became very angry. You took some out on us. Your sons and daughters were not enough? You slaughtered— in all your detestable practices— our youth.”

Poem 6: Misandry (from Acts 27:41) — “Dangerous men should be broken.”

Fucking beautiful.

First poetry I’ve enjoyed in ages.

this is the sickest idea ! so beautiful

Amazing

How casually you walked into my life,

Bearing your history, your burdens, your ill-will.

Bearing a rage the world could not call lovely.

Bearing a secret self as delicate as crystal.

You walked in like you owned the place, and then

Who was I to say you had to leave?

jujubiest:

Sometimes I need to see a life that’s uglier than mine,
get lost in someone else’s problems, lose a little time,
see heroes fighting destiny, and dreams that don’t come true,
and think “if they can handle that, then I’ll get through this, too.“ 

Hail, Bacchus, to whom pleasure is divine!
He would not have us suffer on our knees,
nor drink of blood that masquerades as wine,
but worship him with raucous revelries.
Beauty matters not to him, nor fame,
nor wealth, except what pleasures wealth can buy.
He has no use for prayers steeped in shame,
pleas for forgiveness only make him sigh.
The shrieks of laughter at a tale well-told,
the heavy, dreamless sleep of o’erindulgence,
the breathless moans of passion uncontrolled,
bare bodies joined in sensual divulgence:
These are that which Bacchus understands,
and of each ardent devotee demands.

God is a woman

Tired but strong

Toiling away

All eternity long

To fix the mistakes

Of a creator that left

Made us all in his image

And stuck her with the mess.

She may not be perfect

But she’s doing her best.