Ash & Ink
@bundtkake.bsky.social
960 followers 770 following 2.5K posts
Chapter historian/steward Antifa local lodge 313. I will stand in the way. I promise. Malignant poet.
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bundtkake.bsky.social
Thank you so very much! 🙏
bundtkake.bsky.social
🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🖊️👍
bundtkake.bsky.social
Time for an #Autumn evening firepit. A little spooky to make sure I stay on brand!
Skull in a firepit Skull in a fire pit
bundtkake.bsky.social
Thank you! I appreciate the feedback! 🙏
bundtkake.bsky.social
Welp, freezer space is now needed for other things. Guess I gotta drink all these lol

#ghostbusters #ectocooler

Probably gonna die
Two packs of LONG frozen EctoCooler
bundtkake.bsky.social
Thank you! 🙏🙏
bundtkake.bsky.social
Excellent!! 'Lament' is my overall favorite
bundtkake.bsky.social
Thank you so kindly for the feedback!! 🙏🙏
Reposted by Ash & Ink
thedevilstuna.bsky.social
Here's my downbeat effort for such an upbeat word

#vss365

Verve Averse

verve
lurks,
lumps of shine
glaring,
teeth points shArdened

I
sl
um
p,
hands empty,
spine soft,
in fear
of the
pouNCE.

#verve
#poetrycommunity
#writerscommunity
Reposted by Ash & Ink
mwplovesmusic.bsky.social
I did a second poem for #poemsabout because I wasn’t totally in love with the first one #poetry #domesticviokenceawareness

@alanparrywriter.co.uk
Reposted by Ash & Ink
anntigone.bsky.social
Lying in satisfied
silence as we
"smoke cigarettes"—
old Hollywood
movie code to keep
the censors happy,
hair as disheveled
as my sense of self,
responsibilities
trapped in
ruffled bedsheets,
wondering if I should
have said "no"
when he asked
if I needed anything.

#BedroomEyesPrompt
#Ishouldhave
Reposted by Ash & Ink
rayhourigan.bsky.social
My contribution for #PoemsAbout #ImperfectMe, this is Flood..
@alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
rayhourigan.bsky.social
Flood.. #poetry #poem #writing #writingcommunity
Reposted by Ash & Ink
sonnetsmith.bsky.social
My contribution to #poemsabout #imperfectme
It's a piece that I've been meaning to write for a few weeks but never got round to it, so thank you
@alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk
For the push.

This is

Cracks In the Mirror

#poetry #blueskypoet #poem #mirror #identity #lost
It stares at me, from the other side of an empty room,
A face familiar, but still unrecognizable.
Silvered glass, which was not cracked last time I looked upon it
Now shattered into fragments, in each one an impostor. 

A thousand faces trapped within; not one is whom I seek,
It stares at me, from the other side of an empty room
And I stare back, wondering who this man before me is
The man with cracks that crawl across his myriad of masks. 

I know him not; I never have, but somehow he knows me
His crooked smiles, and weary eyes drill deep into my soul
He stares at me, from the other side of an empty room
From in between the cracks; a man I thought I used to know. 

Once upon a time I saw my own face in the mirror
A bright and beaming smile; that was who I'd always be,
But somehow I cant see him in the faces of the beast
That stares at me, from the other side of this still empty room.
Reposted by Ash & Ink
davidbirch.bsky.social
Thanks again @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk for an excellent #PoemsAbout prompt #ImperfectMe. Here's a poem about the imperfection of yielding to hope over experience
bundtkake.bsky.social
I put this on yesterday, start to finish. Great choice.
Reposted by Ash & Ink
matt-guntrip-music.bsky.social
I’ve lost my faith in poetry, a personal experience, yet when I saw this brilliant prompt #imperfectme from @thebrokenspine.co.uk & host @alanparrywriter.co.uk it triggered something; so here’s a contribution. It opened it door & could start an avalanche; tread softly..

Je vous remercie
#poemsabout
Track

Another mistake
along the vinyl groove
destination certainty
as if the end will beat
a rhythmic slow-clap
to every personal error
the flawed shoe-string songs
squeezed out of economy-size mediocrity

Errors, meanness, naivety 
deficits of courage in adversity 
and a few words harvested
from barren rocky soil
too many degrees south 
of arable pasture

Matt Guntrip
Reposted by Ash & Ink
janpsolivagant.bsky.social
#PoemsAbout #ImperfectMe @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

#adaptation: ©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025

#Expressionism #Trakl #PoetryInTranslation #DepthPsychology #TheShadow #CainAndAbel #Blake #Nightmare
Dread 

After Das Grauen (1909) by
Austrian Expressionist poet, Georg Trakl (1887-1914) 

I drift through deserted rooms.
Frenzied stars dance upon a blue backdrop.
Dogs bay in beck-rimmed yards.
Manic chinook roots through the treetops.

Then all stir ceases.
Aglow with choleric ardour, 
Venomous blooms sprout from my mouth.
Blood-drip sap from marred branches 
Shimmers pale as dew. 

From the mirror’s specious void,
From the mirror’s pearly shade,
Contours merge vaguely into the 
Visage of Cain.

Curtains rustle softly.
The moon stares vacantly 
Through the window.
I’m alone with my killer.


Free adaptation from the German:
©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025

"The Body of Abel Found by Adam & Eve", William Blake, circa 1826
bundtkake.bsky.social
Well done! 🖊️🔥
Excellent
Reposted by Ash & Ink
mwplovesmusic.bsky.social
The Fatigue

I feel like a parrot,
a broken record-
people ask
how does it happen?

pieces chip over time,
voices become reality,
your choices add on-
you are cemented;

tired as I’ve ever felt,
days never ended,
always on edge
waiting to be reprimanded

#emoetry #poetry #domesticviolenceawareness
Reposted by Ash & Ink
melissampoulton.bsky.social
Today's #PoemsAbout theme is #ImperfectMe It is quite fitting that it's on #worldmentalhealthday Today is also my 13th week without alcohol.

@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

#poetry #poetrycommunity #blueskypoets
Reposted by Ash & Ink
johnchmura.bsky.social
#PoemsAbout #ImperfectMe
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
I will put a reel in the comments.
IMPERFECT ME

On days my son was measured
in length rather than height
I held him shirtless in one arm
while I lathered my face to shave.
Leaned on my chest, warm,
he plunged an explorer’s hands, decisive,
into my foamy cheeks, gaining agency,
the intimation of form, and play
affirmed in his corporeal birthright.

And me, significant, generative,
like the god of the psalmist,
I could do no wrong.

Whiskey it wasn’t that imperfected me
in his eyes. I may never know
which particular betrayal
inspired that loss of grace.
But it did boost his swagger to say
for the first time fuck you, Dad,
and I absorbed the preordained assertion,
concussive, cracked like a plastic bucket
abandoned on the back porch
when water expands into ice.