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Literature
M. High School Boys Junior Varsity Soccer
Even though
The grass is plastic
The dirt is plastic
These boys still run the old fashioned way
As peasants did in the Middle Ages
Toe first, in leather shoes
Toe first,
As the body intended
Toe first,
As they did in Athens
Barefoot
In the rain
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 4 1
Teach Me by consolecadet Teach Me :iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 3 1
Literature
milgram
always overgrown
hair half past his ears
stomach over belt
boy,
quiet in shul
louder in college
til he passed out again,
threw up
always wanting to call home,
to ask why,
but never picking up the phone
hard to shake,
shielded by flesh,
until he met this. . .one
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 7 0
Literature
home
Nothing much is here
Red Naugahyde on the booths in the old-time ice cream store at the end of the block
A five-and-ten
Wires falling out the back of a traffic control box
Inside, we cook
We don’t clean
We don’t talk or touch each other
Outside, I climb the big tree,
The biggest tree
The tree I always feared would fall
Nothing much is here
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 4 0
Literature
trunk
muscles here support you
a hose to suck you dry
a list of places you've been
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 7 0
Literature
cold toes
slight
furtive
sideways
glance
toward
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 3 0
Literature
bilateral
concrete bed of masculinity
float above, one foot in the air
one foot halfway to the ground
a heavy tread
a new too-small shirt
pain in the foot
a pain in the foot half-down on the ground
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 7 6
Literature
kneel
Here
is a fucking lake
some cute little trees
which are personally relevant to me
as I will reveal in a quaint anecdote
about some summer in July on the Cape
that will totally convince you I am a great artist
The sun will set
and hit the trees
It's so fucking meaningful
everyone is jealous
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 16 9
Literature
many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness
no noble willow bending
taking kindly the counsel of the years
no big-haired flower
turning to face the sun
no sinking orbital star
the numb pain-cold of your youth so simple
to the knives of windchill caressing your body now
remember the summer you threw your back out putting in the air conditioner?
you lay there in the too-cool room
crying into your pillows for days
scared it'd be that way forever
but knowing your next appointment could cure you
remember that summer you drove everywhere?
you really thought you would stay well forever
there is no graceful surrender
even with the sunrise beside your partner you are older
every year you know less
trust less
every year your next appointment is that much less likely to cure you
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 3 6
Literature
hope has bloodshot eyes
you look like
a bob haircut
a beard
gray sweatpants
no eyeliner today
the book you lend to me
the nod
the knowing smile
the unprompted hug
long waves going short
a plastic crate
a handshake
stopping to talk outside the library
saying that you noticed
a knit hat
a phone call
a heart
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 7 2
Literature
familiar things
vinegar smell of humidifiers soaking in the upstairs bathroom
sick, bloated feeling
very, very cold feet
sinking apathy
uncomfortable vacancy
shadows of trees on the bedroom wall
fire-engine red checked comforter
the itch
the bathtub
the shower
the camera
the hill
mid-90s to 2000s industrial and electronic music
Qualtrics surveys about your mental health
the urge
the urge
the urge
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 6 8
Literature
reconstruction
always cleaning up some wreckage
wiping off some mess
salvaging lost dreams, lost bodies, lost minds
constructing
deconstructing
reconstructing
re-reconstructing
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 8 5
Literature
birthday poem no. 1
staying in, because you have work to do,
even though you've been writing about conventional people,
ex-public-schoolers,
who go to parties and drink,
not to excess but just for fun,
who you might understand,
sometimes,
in your dysfunctional little way
staying in, getting your free ice cream and then coming right back,
reading the whole time,
taking a shuttle bus seat next to a four-year-old black girl with glasses who can't stop staring at your astronomy textbook
coming right back,
even though you have been seeing people with bags from the new department store
have been talking to your sort-of-friend,
who you took pictures of wrapped in a rainbow flag once for the newspaper,
vaping while she waits for her Uber to pick her up
have been hearing about hookah bars and the 18+ gay club in Boston
listening to Zeppelin,
copy-pasting citations into a bibliography,
you could transform your hidden cash into any capitalistic spoils you wanted
but you won't
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 4 4
Literature
the target demographic
she calls you worthless without knowing she is
they call you home without knowing they are
hole
unholy
whole
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 4 0
Literature
Vanity
I stand in front of the mirror to oil my scars
They are that pink,
that scar pink,
the same pink as new stretch marks
Which I have again
because the surgeon who recontoured my chest to male told me it was safe to exercise,
so I am,
and my body is the Io of this human solar system
turning its skin over and over again
adding new tears,
unfamiliar shapes
my pants are loose again
I don't know if it's because they are from the women's department
and the fashion industry makes cheap stretch material for women
(I am not a woman)
I don't know if it's because my legs are smaller
Diet feels more like mutilation than surgery ever did
I cut out,
with help,
with insurance,
what holds me back
so I can grow
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 5 2
Literature
they would never put someone like you in a movie
furtive
in the cafeteria
out by the crab apple tree
startling at passing headlights
taking the 80 bus the opposite direction as usual to get antiseptic and shears at Sally's
90s zine style sign
small stack of 20s
Ziploc bag of Reese's Pieces
tall glass Dollar Tree jar full of scissors and combs
you just can't keep your big mouth shut, can you
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet
:iconconsolecadet:consolecadet 8 4

Random Favourites

Literature
viva la gloria
we're going to rule the world
in all of its graffiti-stained
pop-art, gun-filled
guitar-smashing, saintly
cancer-inducing glory
because the city lights,
they're all the same in
rome
paris
london
we pledge our names with
one night stands,
broken glass
and slashed tires-
moscow
new york
kiev
dolce, bella morte! we're all the same
luscious, as we fight our battles like any,
any true armani-hot-topic soldier
beijing
berlin
tokyo-
all the scars and ammunition,
smudged make-up and strappy shoes
our brief lives under that spotlight
we'll go out with a bang, an explosion
because we're the young and fabulous-
and chipped nailpolish has
never looked so gorgeous, before!
:iconPuppetsPoisonInk:PuppetsPoisonInk
:iconpuppetspoisonink:PuppetsPoisonInk 16 16
Literature
extraordinary apocolypse
bare feet wet in night-dew'd grass;
       face skyward, scrying the past.
hands antennaed up in praise;
       third eye piercing maya's haze.
by new moon my path illum'ned;
       by the whole self is subsumed.
this is the first step
in my thousand li journey.
i am mother's child.  
:iconhaijinik:haijinik
:iconhaijinik:haijinik 16 8
Literature
brine
I am not who I used
to be.
I am no longer effete and barren
as the undersides of ships,
the starfish that cling to them;
my skin is not anymore
so windswept that when
we kiss, it feels like
crustaceans on my weathered mouth.
far from it: I am much
too ripe. I have more than my fill
of water, brackish though it may be;
my haggard corpse is awash
and bloated with it.
the veins in my cold,
purple lips would burst,
meeting yours.
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae 21 24
Journal
deforestation
{space}
:iconKaitForest:KaitForest
:iconkaitforest:KaitForest 1 1
Literature
North Wind
       The taut skin surrounding your abdomen is losing the battle to contain the voracious life confined under the surface.  You look like a snake that swallowed prey too large to properly digest.  Vitamins are faithfully taken, diet is monitored, and previous unhealthy habits are foregone.  You are the queen, the sacred vessel, awaiting the prince you and your husband have always known you would create.  This boy will be the best of you.  A golden child who will be presented with every opportunity you were not given who will succeed at everything.  You are smug and superior in this truth you have created.  How unfortunate to be another woman, not carrying a perfect being within her body.  You are as bloated with conceit as you are with child.
       Sometimes you are kicked so hard you cry out as pain tears through your insides l
:icondooder42:dooder42
:icondooder42:dooder42 4 5
Literature
humans
cardboard boxes and
obtuse metaphors.
that's what we seem to be.
our gorgeous neon skeletons,
calcium and carbohydrates and marrow
to the very core,
we drip color
shine a million shades of rainbow-
faceted, facetious like diamonds,
i suppose, full of
wheat thins and artificial flavoring
somehow, we're perfect
and we're so good at this,
at settling ourselves down with
our pretty-ugly-big-little average mates
in a beautiful little-big cardboard box
and we self-medicated little fools,
angels that we may be, to say love,
i think we manage just fine.
:iconPuppetsPoisonInk:PuppetsPoisonInk
:iconpuppetspoisonink:PuppetsPoisonInk 14 29
Literature
stark warning
living now are boys-come-men,
       maids whose flower has full bloomed
whose lives have been bathed in light,
       without wolf's howls in the night;
and now their world is changing,
       its abundance soon subsumed.
frost spreads its fingers.
heed the warders of the north:
"winter is coming."
:iconhaijinik:haijinik
:iconhaijinik:haijinik 12 9
Literature
truth is
truth is,
if i could pick someone prettier
to steal me away
and run with me through fields with brighter blooms
i'd still choose you,
because
yours are the eyes
that haunt me at night
yours are the lips
i'd like on mine
yours is the voice
that will never get old
and yours are the hands
i'd most like to hold
:iconKatybloom:Katybloom
:iconkatybloom:Katybloom 11 14
Literature
the untying...
i can feel this lichen thing
unraveling
        woodchip wrist-bones
chatting, on the windowsill,
with the lights full on
and the goosebumps pooling
like snow in April
this is how it is to
care less
  and less
     less
less
about what will survive
the untying
of all the knots,
all the dragonfly knots
they told us to tie,
        and we did, like biscuits breaking,
when cold nights like this
still meant
trout-monsters
swimming in from the darkest side of the moon
:iconRestlessSands:RestlessSands
:iconrestlesssands:RestlessSands 12 8
Journal
feature
FEATURES
PROFILE FEATURES:
:iconWhoKilledKirov: :iconstephaniee1219: :iconohsostarryeyed: :iconconsolecadet: :icono-ohhai: :iconohsparrowsong: :iconwillwriteforhearts:
PICTURES:
:thumb271045701: Heartache by xXxsoulfulregretsxXx :thumb142920557: :thumb165820927: winter bird by laura-makabresku :thumb127804545: Dark - Light by pro-non Where has my heart gone by Meravigiliosa Nocturnal ashes by iNeedChemicalX The Barefoot Ballroom by JaimeIbarra noname 6 by ankazhuravleva Untitled 601 by ErosTurranos
WRITING:
winter song by WhoKilledKirov Goldfish by willwriteforhearts puerile or thereabouts by consolecadet words by consolecadet :thumb181750909: self made maps. by ohsparrowsong . by ohsparrowsong Stone by o-ohhai Cark by willwriteforhearts :thumb271260578: :thumb269474162: :thumb271040539: Materialistic by willwriteforhearts thirst by capricordestin frob by consolecadet Stories by willwriteforhearts thoughts of a drunken boat by Piarvi-Recherreen I dreamed of you. by ohsparrowsong mapping the ache. by ohsparrowsong calmest lunatic rantings by consolecadet stretching and i stay the same or get worse by consolecadet November Cold by o-ohhai internal combustion by ohsparrowsong :thumb203790203:
ART:
lines hold the memories by agnes-cecile :thumb259
:iconKaitForest:KaitForest
:iconkaitforest:KaitForest 4 17
fibers. by OllieBoomPop fibers. :iconollieboompop:OllieBoomPop 4 0 Game Over by AMSBT Game Over :iconamsbt:AMSBT 3,064 134

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consolecadet's Profile Picture
consolecadet
Ray
United States
Sometimes, when I'm not writing prose, drawing pictures, or living, I write poetry.
It's been a minute! A very long minute. I'm still alive, still slogging my way thru college, etc.

I just thought I'd pop in to say that if you miss my writing, I just put together a little zine. You can buy it for $1 (or tip me more if you want!) at Gumroad: gum.co/transexy

If you wanna stay in touch, these days I am mostly on Tumblr (consolecadet) and Facebook. Or you can email me at consolecadet @ gmail if you'd like. :)

Comments


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:icontoxic--sunrise:
toxic--sunrise Featured By Owner Feb 19, 2017
Thank you for the favorite <3
Reply
:iconlarathain:
Larathain Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2016
Happy birthday! May it be a day of perfect weather and joyful bliss! One you'll enjoy to often offer reminisce.
Reply
:iconaspiredwriter:
AspiredWriter Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
happy birthday :cake:
Reply
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2016
Thanks for the :+fav:
Reply
(1 Reply)
:icontevo77777:
Tevo77777 Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2015  Student Writer
Happy Birthday.
Reply
(1 Reply)
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