A comfy corner on a fluffy pillowed couch; books at your disposal while your cat purrs next to your woolly socks— it is winter, and you are in your element as you drink hot cocoa. The fireplace blares as its warmth cradles you tightly— you are safe here.
46 posts
Star Clusters Of Pasque Flowers, The Series
Star clusters of pasque flowers, the series
Archive #13 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: NEW POEM SERIES MENTIONED RAHHHHH!! Anyway, this one doesn't have an abstract (too lazy to make one). But basically look forward to the next following days because we got three new poems coming >:D
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Poem names:
Fairy salt
In truth
A human in a mushroom house
Notes from poems:
Themes: meadows, jealousy, dreams, saturn, hail storms, attic, sunflower, fairy
Themes: winter, romance, moon, skies, star clusters, spring, pasque flower
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More Posts from Saturnfairycat
ᴡᴇʙᴛᴏᴏɴ?? ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ???
𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒻𝓉 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 (𝟢𝟨/𝟢𝟪/𝟤𝟦)
𝘐 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 (𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬). 𝘏𝘖𝘞𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙, 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 @v-for-venus 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦.
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪— 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯 (𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?).
𝘚𝘰. 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 (𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘮) 𝘢𝘯𝘥/𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬.
𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.
𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯.
Infatuation
Archive #9 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: SECOND POEM MENTIONED RAHHHH ENJOY
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Infatuation
Summersweet, white alder, pepper bush—
wind that blows bouquets away with a swoosh.
A church, the ocean and the utter devotion
such words that are unremittingly
used and mentioned.
You must be annoyed and sick of the voices
telling you about the, oh so many choices…
that you can take.
It makes your cliff shake and ache against the currents
you’re trying to break.
Hundred of shouts turns into a song
while you still can’t get along—
with yourself and the image
that you portray as a sailor, paying primage.
You can’t love a siren,
moreover cage them in a shrine to admire in.
They didn’t draw you in with their beauty,
they were just on death duty.
Artless feelings are sweet and dependent
until you sneeze and crush flowers gifted,
not to the loved one but to the church—
a place of worship but for a search…
of pathetic purpose.
Arson ash that coughs up the lungs
makes heartthrobs hold their tongues.
It’s been so long since the reminiscence,
but existence with omniscience means that
one can’t help those that don’t want it.
Sailors should save those words for those who admit it.
Repetition shows a mind not working—
hiding behind the words of formal glory.
When the time comes that you consider your fate,
please stop placing your heart on a plate.
Not everything is worth dying for, therefore
realise this before you bleed even more.
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Woe the building that falls
Archive #8 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: Sooo I decided to post them all separately, but then probably do one post at the end combining them all. Because I lOooOOOooOve making tags... aha. If you guys can throw me some tags to put in it would be great, I never know what kinda tags to put. Enjoy! --------------------------------------------
Woe the building that falls
To seek a soul whose pictured as gold,
makes artless mortals sway.
The siren theory is embodied as a place—
that is known for its embrace…
of worship, importune and obsession.
But to pray to who is equivocal…
they’re merely a god, merely a question.
You can’t treat a person like a church possession—
the inner walls creak and moan
against the protest and crack of bone.
Nicknamed Dulia for its glory,
but it drowns those who try to adore thee.
The plafond above our heads sing in pressure–
haunting the thought of being crushed.
Whilst they cry for their successor,
dust floated towards the exit as if being rushed.
The sky tends to fall away;
clouds imitate a chevet.
The sight itself creates much dismay,
but time is an illusion…
oh, such betray.
But what a church with no heaven?
Sky, empyrean, and the ether
don’t judge a star's demeanour!
Aperture with glass framework–
edging feelings with a smirk.
Reflection shows a shining gleam,
but true colour is never seen.
The sun has a shaded costume
using the moon as hecatomb.
It may use perfume as a facade…
but mien flares hearts exerting ballade.
If darkness plummets beneath our feet
may I pray for a deathless greet.
The devotee,
limp in their extremities,
served one purpose…and failed.
It drifted into sea like a dead anemone–
with no avail or memory.
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"I am a stained glass window in a place with no light." - saturnfairycat 2024
"Ambition too high for a body so small" - saturnfairycat 2024