Print And Poem (both My Own) For The May Edition Of Blackbird Monthly, A Publication By A Local Community

"The Lay of St. Kenelm"

Once again, another submission to the local college magazine Blackbird fro the July edition. This particular poem is based on the legend of St. Kenelm, an Anglo-Saxon prince who ascended the throne at the age of seven upon his father's death. He was quickly martyred/assassinated by his jealous sister Cwendred, who asked her lover to carry out the dirty work.

     "Once a good King past to Death

Cynewulf by name

And left he but a stripling heir

Young Cynehelm by name.

     "Had Cynehelm two sisters great

Yet scarcely 'like, the twain

Burgenhild' a maiden loyal

And Cwendred, woman vain.

     "To slay her kith and gain the crown

Was Cwendred's only want

And so she bid her lover dear

To do a task so gaunt.

     "Slay the child for me, my love

Cooed Cwendred to her man

Finish him with scarce a word

And take his life in hand.

     "So Ascbert went a' riding then

With Cynehelm one day

Hunting in the forest deep

For a prince to slay.

     "Stopped they for a brief respite

For Cynehelm to rest

And up behind did Ascbert come

At his dame's behest.

     "But Cynehelm spake Nay my lord

You shall not slay me here

Yet take this rod and plant it there

And bid my end come near.

     "So planted he a rod of thorn

And sprung from it an Ash

Then 'neath that tree did Ascbert strike

And Cyn'helm breathed his last.

     "But from the grave his Soul did fly

In likeness of a dove,

 - As prophecy foretold by dream -

Beyond the boughs above."

Again, you may re-post or share this this as you like, but please remember to  cite my name (Benjamin Spick) and the name of my blog (tiedinknotsart) as your source! This is my original work and is very important to me. Don't steal it!

La pétrification de la papesse, 1945, Victor Brauner

https://www.wikiart.org/en/victor-brauner/la-p-trification-de-la-papesse-1945

zelfies

dressed up for the first time in months to go zoom with a couple friends last night

after not sewing much in ??? months, i finally broke my dryspell

this is probably a longshot but recently I read a poem titled something like “the last thing she sees”……. and its like. from the perspective of a bird on a birdfeeder in someones yard… and the bird is the last thing that sees the person alive before they pass away / the last thing the person sees but obviously the bird has no way of knowing that. anwyays like. i have been thinking about it for two days straight but like a fool i neglected to save it and so now here i am on tumblr dot com asking if youve heard of this poem 

Jude and Ewan in bath, 2003 - Ph. Lorenzo Agius

If I were a god or goddess, what offers would you leave at my shrine?

My inbox is hungry for asks :D

John Boyega:  “Africa isn’t a testing lab you pieces of shit.”

Jay Ingram: “For those wondering, two scientists in France said they should test the COVID vaccine on people in Africa for efficiency or something. Super dehumanizing and part of a long, racist history of similar acts.”

amazing time seeing ezra furman last night