Luke X. B.
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monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Luke X. B.
@monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
150 followers 180 following 160 posts
The global population of monarchs has dropped 90% in the past 2 decades and 18 species of USA fireflies are under threat of extinction. I write poems.
Also a D&D / gamer nerd. Media tab has my stuff in it. All rights reserved
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monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Here's the final product from a late night draft I made a while back. Just barely got it below the file size limit for bsky:

Dust

Text here as alt text limit was reached: docs.google.com/document/d/1...

#poetry #poem #spokenword
June 23, 2025 at 12:56 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Saw some Goldfinches and Red-eyed Vireos the other day
A bird glances at the camera while perched on the beam of a swing set. A yellow and black colored bird eating from a hanging bird feeder.
June 16, 2025 at 4:56 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
#poetry #poem
Fleeting moments; the crack of ice, a splash of water, sediment rising, displaced only to settle once again; But the stone remains and the one who cast it remembers how they changed the world
June 2, 2025 at 4:37 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Room For Apologies

I left you a key under my pillow
to a room that’s kept dark
and empty
I tried my hardest to give you enough
space to grieve
There’s nothing I could furnish it with
that would say the right things
I’m sorry

#poetry #poem
Text that reads: I left you a key under my pillow to a room that’s kept dark and empty I tried my hardest to give you enough space to grieve There’s nothing I could furnish it with that would say the right things I’m sorry
May 23, 2025 at 5:00 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Outside time with Molly 😊
A white cat sitting in the grass with some flowers
May 12, 2025 at 9:03 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
gonna call this the final draft because ive spent too much time thinking about how to write the last bits

#poetry #poem
May 9, 2025 at 2:02 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
and again

#poetry #poem
text that reads: it’s a hand on the back of my neck in greeting clammy and spindly familiar though it’s been some time it cranes its head over my way and i don’t look, but i hear it, ragged, hoarse breath in my ear, then a dried, broken and healed wrong arm guides my wrist to cup its face, i feel the gaunt lines of its cheeks then the sharp pain of its teeth what am i but a meal to satiate its hunger and be punished for banishing it away when it can only die with me
May 2, 2025 at 5:14 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
middle of the night writing again

#poetry #poem
text that reads: it’s spring and the trees wane flower petals fall one by one emaciated flying things bees, i think they were called die in the sun wings too weak to carry their haul back to the hive the young starve lives gone not in a blink but slowly before ever getting to experience summer
May 2, 2025 at 5:10 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Eyeing the cheesecake like this won’t be me immediately after.

Maybe I succumb to the food coma first, then cheesecake.
A rodent broke into a pastry box and ate to the point of being immobile. The text reads: Do what you must, I have already won
December 25, 2024 at 8:28 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Reposting with a preview screenshot so it goes into my media tab with the rest of my stuff. Hosted on google docs 🤷‍♂️

I wrote a short story.

A Bridge at the End of All Things
docs.google.com/document/d/1...

Content warning: talk of suicide

#writing #writingcommunity #shortstory #prose
A preview of a short story that reads: A Bridge at the End of All Things by Luke Xavier Boothby It was almost dusk: The last sunset ever if all the stories were to be believed. News broadcasts over the past month had told the world that Earth had suddenly and rapidly begun to drift out of orbit. After checking their data thousands of times over, astronomers across the planet estimated the world as we know it would end cold and in the dark as we reached a critical point in terms of reduced solar radiation just after the sunset. So much so that mass extinction was all but guaranteed overnight. Plenty of people didn’t believe them, and so some managed to maintain a semblance of normalcy. But over the weeks the climate had grown noticeably colder and the sun looked much smaller in the sky. In one of the largest cities along a solitary bridge, only the distant sound of the occasional fireworks could be heard. And for the first time in all his years living there, the man who sat on the railing thought to himself, It’s quiet. It was nearly silent, and that was as good as it would ever get. But to even be quiet was confirmation enough that the news was true and people had come to accept it. They were with their families, their loved ones. They were partying like it was the end of the world, or out finding the best spot to watch the sun set one last time, or in a bunker somewhere trying to cheat death. But he was there alone on the edge of a bridge, watching the waters far below with little else on his mind outside of the strange novelty of near silence.
December 19, 2024 at 3:58 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Once again too long for alt text.

#WeeklyWritingChallenge #story #writing #prose
December 13, 2024 at 12:30 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
I also do a little photoshop from time to time. Any #classicwow players from 2019 here?
December 10, 2024 at 5:46 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
From a late night/early morning out with friends back in college
December 9, 2024 at 4:58 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
I have no idea. I should be asleep.

#poetry #poem
A strangely formatted poem that (roughly) reads: Words trickle from my mind, not quite solidified into a whole idea, but fluid and hard to place, overflowing slow, like sap dripping from a tapped tree, molasses-thick and sticky, puddled, waiting for sweet additives; to be infused with meaning otherwise not quite there, but sometimes it’s just a bad pour and worth spilling so new words take their place
November 27, 2024 at 6:23 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
american garden

#poetry #poem
red trellis archway, blood on the vine, thorny landscape, diamantine gore, arterial spray seraphim stone fountain, stained glass pathway; yellow purple and black, cracked crucifix statue, anemic sleeping cerberus cherub; maw teeming with ticks, murderous, gnawed garter snake bone decoration, trampled, packed dirt, lone dandelion, wilted, hurt, hardy, growing, but not immune to herbicide looming on the horizon, flowers be damned, despite their value the patrons are convinced otherwise
November 21, 2024 at 3:12 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Monarchs

#poetry #poem
When I was young I used to grow milkweed so that butterflies would find my yard each year and leave little baby caterpillars in my garden, I'd wait for my new buddies to climb up onto the leaves, then I'd carefully cut the stems and gather them into an aquarium where they could safely live a little 'til they would spin themselves a chrysalis, Most of the time they hung from the metal netting I placed at the top, but some preferred their bedding closer to nature and clung to plants leftover, I'd wait and wait, until weeks later they'd start to emerge, brand new creatures, monarchs; kings and queens, and once they had about a day to spread their wings and prepare to fly I'd bring them outside, all of my patience leading up to this one moment where I'd finally open the lid and watch splotches of black and orange with little white spots like diamonds on a crown blot out the blue sky as they flew out into the town and beyond and began their lives anew And all of this is to say, I've felt like I've been raising little caterpillars who've been hanging in their chrysalises until the days we get to meet, when suddenly they hatch and fill me with the feeling of butterflies and simultaneously make me think of us like we're monarchs; a king and queen going out into town and beyond sharing our lives together
November 8, 2024 at 5:38 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
betrayal

In autumn
a forest path walked,
leaves fallen along the ground
covering what lay below it all;
dirt, rot, feces,
but it looked pretty;
I never saw
until the path turned
and I stepped forward,
light glinting for only a second
too late
as I stumbled into still water

#poetry #poem
A deceptively hidden creek is covered by autumn leaves to the point where it looks almost like a walkable path in the forest.
November 7, 2024 at 3:13 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Or maybe I will. I wrote this years ago. I will be profoundly feeling something, but it will be bitter and filled with words inked in venom.
November 6, 2024 at 8:03 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Fireflies.

Happy enough with this one to post it even though it hasn't gone through much revision.

Maybe one about monarchs later. I have a couple rough drafts cooking.

#poetry #poem
Catching fireflies led to the first time I realized That beauty is subjective, and how its pursuit can change the perspective to one where all of it is bled dry As if the intent was to bring harm instead of harmony of the mind; blood diamonds in the sky, I would go out at night with mason jars as a kid And wait among the stars With little light except for theirs Until came the time where they would fall and fly around me like little meteors, I’d unscrew the lids And run and hop and swing in the air Gathering the little singing lovebirds baring their souls for potential mates closer together like I was Cupid, The lights they’d make, the warmth they must’ve felt, But the cells I stupidly kept them in would stay cold, I remember boldly thinking to myself, If I catch enough, I could stuff them into one jar and use it as a night light, What a bright idea I’d had! If a few could make little lamps Surely they would altogether make something even grander So I did And I fell asleep happily watching a little light show on my bed stand, But come morning time I awoke to find that all the bugs with a lack of food to survive opted to turn their lovers’ dance into one of sustenance and cannibalized each other, and ever since I've preferred to just watch them in the evening
November 4, 2024 at 7:29 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
"Prose or poetry, write from the perspective of a piece of stationery."

Alt text is too long to fit. Sorry. If someone has an idea of how to go about that, let me know.

#prose #writing #prompt
November 1, 2024 at 4:14 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Did I make a fem blood elf specifically for this mog?

Yes.

A little unfortunate that I can't hide the artifact weapon quiver, 'cause the chest strap looks cool. Oh well.
November 1, 2024 at 3:59 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Fair enough. lol
November 1, 2024 at 12:30 AM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Wrote some haikus just to practice a bit.

#poetry #poem
Eutrophication Little rushing leaves riding the windborn causeway; where are they off to? Swaying in the breeze, Then jumping into the lake; sailing someplace new, Some curled; little boats, Others flat, staring upward or down, I wonder? How long will they float? Eventually the herd splits, sinking under Cycle continues, Decaying stored nutrients, winter boon, spring's bane In warmth, algae blooms, dies in overabundance, hypoxic remains
October 31, 2024 at 8:13 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
Writer's Block

Just kinda glad to have gotten something down.

#poetry #poem
Fuzzy and distant, Out of focus, Buzzing locust among the mist; Anxiety of the foggy mind; Nebulous but existent nonetheless, Fear amidst words unknown, Wishing perfection would coalesce, Drunkenly stumbled letters prone, Blurry visions of what comes next, Neuroplastic network collisions on the highway of the mind, Policing my own thoughts with tickets for reckless driving, Depriving myself of sleep to keep a sickly sense of progress; when favor sought from the Internet's lot comes paramount to rest
October 30, 2024 at 8:59 PM
monarchsnfireflies.bsky.social
I've been hesitant to post this anywhere for a very long time, and even trying to write this has taken longer than I'd like. A response to when I used to see people romanticize depression. It's not romantic, it's #Ugly.

#poetry #poem
Computer fan whirring, face planted in a bed of pillows out the window a weeping willow soaks in the world, and in my burrow pale recluse pupils stay starved in their candor, Such flowery language, o the romance, but there's no such thing with depression, bits of text are mental antivenom, finish a sentence, reality sets in, bitter self indifference, piles of clothes, trash bag half filled, bottles, wrappers, salt and pepper shaker spilled; toppled and left next to the ketchup and syrup, stranded with cans and cups of mold cultivation, pest-chewed hardened crusts of food left unfinished from lack of care for sustenance, plates and bowls dirtied and foul, last week's towel, tooth pain a capella group howling into haphazardly strewn sheets, mood regulation drug abuse, and i know better and it's not, but it's different, My life has gone by the wayside, I don’t really do anything besides eat, sleep, and exist, burdensomely, I dont impress myself, I'm depressed, but who isn't, you think, except you see a shrink who tells you outright you’ve got it major and can expect repeat episodes like old sitcoms that were made when your minor self was still hooked on phonics, a chronic disorder that may never leave, and they believe there could be more things hiding underneath the surface but you’ll never know, of course, because you stopped going, I've slipped so far beyond the relatable "Life sucks and I feel down", What whispers in my ear now that angels have all given up from plan A, B, C to Zed all failing? it's violent self deprecation, ailing from lack of vitality; a zombie-led coterie of emotions; wizened inaction mentality
October 29, 2024 at 10:00 PM