poetry & inspiration

[pogrebin]

From malecrit & narcissam: What poets do you have on your shelves? For the purposes of this list, they should be there by your choice (as opposed to being texts for courses, etc) and be either the collected or selected works of one single poet (anthologies and collections do not count, nor do Selections from Works which include, but do not consist exclusively of,

Comments

[siriaeve]

Ooh. If it's not too much trouble, would you be able to write some Riddle gen fic? I have a yearning :D

riddle genfic

[pogrebin]

“When I like people immensely, I never tell their names to any one. It is like surrendering a part of them.”- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

*incoherence*

[siriaeve]

Oh my. The depths of my great and true love have been unimaginably deepened, Pogrebin. You not only write me wonderful Riddle fic, there is Wilde.

I loved the sounds in this - from the voice over to the sound of laughter to breathing to a question to a scream and to laughter once more. I could hear it in my head, and ooh. *shivers*

The guards hold wands to his throat and Tom Riddle laughs so easily that their fingers tremble. "You have been worshipping my portrait," he says.

And oh, the ending. So wonderful and it just twists the whole thing and made me gasp and grin a little bit, and you do realise that this is not going to make my mental image of Tom as a dark-haired Bosie change any time soon?

*draws breath*

Thank you, my dear. A lovely thing to wake up to on a Sunday morning :)

[of_bad_faith]

Could you write Blackcest? Any pairing, as kids? Thanks so much. :)

er, yeah. late. genfic masquerading as blackcest.

[pogrebin]

Bellatrix spends all her time in the attic, prying open magically sealed boxes and peeling back layers of transparent gauze to reveal layer upon layer of paintings. The bright fuschia square of lace at the throat of her ancestress, a polished silver buckle, the hard bright flint of a wooden cane emblazoned with their crest; they come alive when she blows the ancient dust from their surfaces. She lifts them out, one by one, so heavy to her fourteen-year-old arms- no magic, the air is too thick and pungent with the residue of spells to even think about it. She lines them up on the floor and struts in front of them, inspecting them like a general surveying his troops

Re: er, yeah. late. genfic masquerading as blackcest.

[of_bad_faith]

So pretty. Thank you!

[wired_lizard]

On my current shelves, I only have Rilke--and not his poetry, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge and some letters. ('Twas for a class. First time I'd read Rilke; must find some of his poetry.) At home, I have the complete Poe (prose and poetry); and I desperately crave Eliot. I should just go out and buy myself a copy someday.

But I'm not much of a poetry person.

Young!Albus!sex?

*smooches*

*toddles off to brunch*

[kitsune13]

Oh my sick darling! *pets you* Writing Weasley twincest is, I hear, good for the body and soul. *g*

[pogrebin]

“We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
T.S. Eliot The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

-

When Fred kisses George he thinks of the ocean, water up to their waists and the undertow just beginning to pull at their ankles. That summer: the formless gold of the sun sliding off sea, blinding their eyes and pouring into their ears. That summer: wet fingers at the hollow at the small of his back that are most decidedly not his not his because playing in the sand has roughened George’s touch

<333333333333

[kitsune13]

Wow. Just. I am, as always, in awe of you. I love the sensuousness, the fluidity, the colors and the feeling of a secret room even in the vast ocean, and. Wow. Also, the sense of borders being breached (appropriate for a seashore), and every word, but especially: "That summer: wet fingers at the hollow at the small of his back that are most decidedly not his not his because playing in the sand has roughened George's touch."

Marry me?

[narcissam]

You know you want to write flashback Barty/Mafalda.

NM