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thoughtportal.bsky.social
Thought Portal
@thoughtportal.bsky.social
360 followers 860 following 1.4K posts
A blog of the media I am consuming
http://thoughtportal.org/
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thoughtportal.bsky.social
#zine
Gina Sarti
Shit's Fucked: A Positivity Guide
www.antiquatedfuture.com/zines/shit-s...
a yellow zine cover with an illustration of a house on fire that reads: Shit's Fucked: A Positivity Guide
October 11, 2025 at 12:41 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#zine
MY DREAM: New Comics by Nina Berry
www.etsy.com/listing/1765...
MY DREAM: New Comics by Nina Berry
September 20, 2025 at 1:02 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
SIGN THE PETITION
action.everylibrary.org/budget2026imls
Millions of Americans could lose access to e-books if Congress slashes federal library funding. The new House budget bill eliminates ALL funding for the Institute of Museum and Library Services, a small but powerful agency that: *Serves 123,000 libraries *Supports 35,000 museums *Funds 30%-50% of state library budgets *Delivers hundreds of millions in grants across all 50 states + DC This is going to extremely affect rural, low-income, and digitally disconnected communities. Trump's proposed budget would cut ALL federal library funding. That's 30-50% of your state's library budget.
August 22, 2025 at 12:15 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem
There, Here, Jazz
By Christine Poreba•August 2025
www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/the...
The first time I walked into our new old house, it was the light that surprised me—how much of it fell through the four windows facing south and landed wide across the floorboards—something the video my husband had taken, which was all I’d seen of this house before we bought it, hadn’t shown. That late morning, late December, only a few more hours before it dimmed, the light seemed to shake in rhythm with the notes of jazz spilling from the radio and the paint dripping from the brush my husband lifted from the can he held. I thought of our first or second married Halloween, when we went to an art-department party in Florida and he played the part of Jackson Pollock, splattering imaginary paint from an empty can onto the ground while I held an unlit cigarette as Lee Krasner in a gray pleated 1950s skirt. I thought of the love letters I’d just been sorting through, of how deciding whether to hold on to a decades-old note from a now stranger I once loved, a note that still holds its roundness from being wound around my bicycle frame with green ribbon, is like curating the heart’s museum. Almost like playing Minecraft, where hearts represent your life and you can respawn and delete whatever world you’d been playing in, start another life in a new one. I thought of how long it had been since I’d listened to jazz, which belonged under that large heading of PAST ever since my first boyfriend had played and listened to nothing else. Now it plays in our house all the time, and I love not knowing where the next phrase will land while still knowing every solo will come back around to the center. Our son is learning how to play the saxophone, learning how to breathe, to make smooth phrases of notes that glide down the stairs in this house with its shaking light.
August 10, 2025 at 1:25 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
screenshots from the film, dazed and confused. it's the last day of class and as the students countdown, the teacher says to them: When you're being inundated with all this Fourth of July brouhaha, don't forget what you're celebrating. and that's the fact that.. a bunch of slave-owning aristocratic white males didn't want to pay their taxes.
July 4, 2025 at 6:57 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
Sign up to elect Denzel!

Canvass: www.mobilize.us/denzelmccamp...

Phonebank: www.mobilize.us/denzelmccamp...
an image of two guys with megaphones with the words: CANVASS WITH DYLAN & DENZEL! SATURDAY, JUNE 28 at 12:00 PM BREW-TI-FUL COFFEE HOUSE 20438 PLYMOUTH RD, DETROIT, MI
June 26, 2025 at 4:08 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
June 24, 2025 at 5:35 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
Black-Necked Stilt
By Robert Cording
www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/593...
Black-Necked Stilt By Robert Cording•May 2025 Because I did not know the bird I looked at, I memorized its features— the stately black neck; the thin black beak and long rose-pink legs; the white of its underside and eyebrows in contrast to its dark back and small black-capped head. And because another bird-watcher stopped just then and said, Black-necked stilt, then went on— the name so matter-of-factly matching the bird, as if Adam himself were giving it for the first time—I said, Thank you, and sat down on a bench to look again at the elegant stilt, its tapered beak working like chopsticks to lift shrimp and minnows from the water. The bird gave me all the time I needed. I’m sure it was just doing what it did each evening, like the ibises arrowing in groups of six and eight to roost in the mangroves or the wood storks on their last go-round, the water shimmering in twilight colors—pinks, lavenders, orange reds. Nothing at all out of the ordinary, but the only two words I’d spoken in the last two hours still echoed in my head, filling me with the overwhelming sense of why we give thanks for what we’re given, even so simple a thing as a name.
May 24, 2025 at 1:22 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
Goodbye Note
By Jarod K. Anderson
www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/593...
Goodbye Note By Jarod K. Anderson•May 2025 Someone hung wind chimes in our cemetery and a wren house and mirrored mylar pinwheels. Someone left a plastic horse on a grave. An empty can of PBR. School photos in a ziplock bag. When they’re warped by rain, colors washed out by sun, they’re no less beautiful becoming the place where ground takes back. It’s like coral in some shallow gulf, the soft creatures building castles, a five-dollar doll wilting on a headstone, love-litter accreting meaning. A grandchild’s note shifting into soil was written just for Nana, but all of us, living and dead, where Earth welcomes home our blood, will receive that message, unread, long after the words are moss and mud.
May 24, 2025 at 1:15 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
May 21, 2025 at 7:51 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
The Second Coming
#poem #poetry
The Second Coming W. B. Yeats1865 –1939 Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? This poem is in the public domain.
May 21, 2025 at 6:02 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
NYC: EMERGENCY MOBILIZATION TOMORROW!
linktr.ee/peoplesforum...
NYC: EMERGENCY MOBILIZATION TOMORROW! Join us in the streets to demand the release of Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian student activist and recent Columbia graduate, who was abducted from his home by DHS agents last night and is now in ICE detention. We demand the immediate release of Mahmoud Khalil. Hands off our students! ICE off our campuses! 📅Monday, March 10 🕓4PM 📍Jacob K. Javits Federal Building 26 Federal Plaza, NYC
March 10, 2025 at 1:38 AM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#zines
got this cool @audmcname.com zine in my zine-o-matic package this month
audmcname.com/comics/billb...
an illustration of a billboard on the side of a highway. a map of Washington state behind it. a large black figure is squatting behind the billboard looking out on to the road
March 8, 2025 at 2:51 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#book
You're Going to Be Ok (Because You're Fucked No Matter What)
by Darby Hudson
linktr.ee/darby_hudson
book cover that reads: You're Going to Be Ok (Because You're Fucked No Matter What) Darby Hudson
January 31, 2025 at 5:33 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
Please stop comparing the current horrors to the horrors of other countries. The terrible things that have happened, that are happening and that will happen will be uniquely and horribly American.
The Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, a giant, lumbering, and paranormal fluffy monster with a big cute but also creepy looking smile on his face.
January 27, 2025 at 2:58 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
screenshot of the simpsons with a guy painting a horse to look like a cow on the set of radioactive man and explaining to Ralph, nelson, and martin that: COWS DON'T LOOK LIKE COWS ON FILM. YOU GOT TO USE HORSES.
January 22, 2025 at 9:40 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#books #read #comics
Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car
Comics for Beautiful, Awful and Ordinary Days
By Jordan Bolton
www.simonandschuster.com/books/Blue-S...
book cover: Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car Comics for Beautiful, Awful and Ordinary Days By Jordan Bolton blue background with with and blue letters. illustration of power lines and a tree at the bottom
January 12, 2025 at 2:09 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
Hurricane by Mary Oliver It didn’t behave like anything you had ever imagined. The wind tore at the trees, the rain fell for days slant and hard. The back of the hand to everything. I watched the trees bow and their leaves fall and crawl back into the earth. As though, that was that. This was one hurricane I lived through, the other one was of a different sort, and lasted longer. Then I felt my own leaves giving up and falling. The back of the hand to everything. But listen now to what happened to the actual trees; toward the end of that summer, they pushed new leaves from their stubbed limbs. It was the wrong season, yes, but they couldn’t stop. They looked like telephone poles and didn’t care. And after the leaves came blossoms. For some things, there are no wrong seasons. Which is what I dream of for me.​
January 11, 2025 at 2:20 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#zine
#zineomatic
Two years after gravity has inexplicably left earth, things get weird. Adrift by @johntucker.bsky.social
www.instagram.com/p/ByGZ8VHBoIn/
spread of a zine by john tucker called Adrift. the cover is pink with an illustration of a floating garbage can and balloon on it. inside is an illustration of a bunch of people floating out of a broken window
January 1, 2025 at 2:37 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social

#poem #poetry
This Call Is from an Inmate at a Federal Prison By Erik Tschekunow
www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/587...
This Call Is from an Inmate at a Federal Prison By Erik Tschekunow They say you eventually get desperate enough to call a stranger, someone who’s added her number to a database for the incarcerated, someone who’s even more alone than you. It’s amazing, they say, once you’ve picked a name (other stats sometimes provided), the numbers you dial clink like bottles meeting in a sea. Each distant ring is a pair of whirring lips held millimeters from that ticklish spot in the curve of your ear. Will she have the high, lilting voice and self-possession of the weather girl on the radio, or will her Hello scrape and knock like a stone being winched out of a well? And what do you say when she actually accepts the call? Is it to her that you admit you’re not even sure freedom is what you want anymore? They say not to say anything, just listen to how sorry she is about your situation. It’s important to close your eyes. The breeze she says billows her bedroom curtains won’t reach you, drunk on the way by ghosts, but the shiver you’ll get is, you know, more than you deserve.
December 19, 2024 at 1:15 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
Poem of the One World by Mary Oliver This morning the beautiful white heron was floating along above the water and then into the sky of this the one world we all belong to where everything sooner or later is a part of everything else which thought made me feel for a little while quite, beautiful, myself.
December 17, 2024 at 12:52 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
John O' Donohue FLUENT I would love to live Like a river flows, Carried by the surprise Of its own unfolding.
December 16, 2024 at 2:13 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#poetry
www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/587...
Driving Upstate with My Father BY C.L. O'DELL. NOVEMBER 2024 at the end of a bad year. Trees begin to outnumber houses. Rain turns to snow as fields hang like paintings. Dad fills his lip with chew, talks. The truck is warm and rattles with tools. Every so often we enter a silence as he ends a story and readies the next, about work, or money, or deer. If I'm lucky he'll share the good stuff and tell me how he almost lost everything, or the time, while teaching my uncle how to swing an axe, he split his shin like celery, filling his boot with blood. The best is when he forgets he's a man and tells me what he loves. I carried a doe through the dark, he says, and then describes the stars.
December 7, 2024 at 1:59 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
I'm choosing to Buy Nothing on Black Friday. Black Friday is an annual heavily-advertised mega shopping day with the goal of convincing you to buy as much as possible. But every product you buy has an environmental cost, from long before it hits store shelves to long after you toss it in the bin.
November 27, 2024 at 1:27 PM
thoughtportal.bsky.social
#article
This Erie County headstone tells a tale of a tragic moment in Girard history
www.goerie.com/story/news/l...
headstone: The epitaph reads: "In memory of Ellen Shannon, age 26 years, who was fatally burned Mar. 21, 1870 by the explosion of a lamp filled with R.E. Danforth's non explosive burning fluid."
November 25, 2024 at 4:57 PM