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#body poetry
jomoljoseph · 2 years
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Shoot mode ON!
💃🏻@jomoljoseph
📸 @ezrazakeriah
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azzayofchaos · 1 year
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The Vernal Season Comes First
in my body, 
creeping in and sudden as 
a day that’s warmer than the last. 
There’s still snow on the ground, receding, curling in,
and the soil is patient beneath, 
I’m here, it reassures, you’ll notice me again.
And it’s the light I think, that tips me off
–before conscious thought and the learned order of passing time.
Gilded light that slants through morning windows,
not like last week.
Spring; it sits in the hollow arch of my ribs, 
heavy and dormant.
Below the sternum, above the gut, like
a bulb buried deep and rootless,
Beginning to sprout. 
There is a shivering current up my spine; 
the light touch of cold fingertips between my shoulder blades
brushing away stale cobwebs
and kissing carefully, the bare nape of my neck.
It comes with the chittering of birds 
that leave my ears buzzing—
Hello? Nice to hear you again, it’s been a while.
—and when I breathe in, 
it creeps down my throat and fills my lungs
and wakes up the hibernating things:
Memories that might be mine,
gathering as clouds, and 
caught without lyrics on the radio. 
They’re restless. 
I feel the same.
Sluggish and trembling with anticipation;
They're hungry, 
for sunlight and rain and growing.
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veinsglisten · 2 years
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every ounce of my body and soul
has every right to be angry
but is it worth
giving my body and soul
more fret and tension
than they already did?
let them rest, says my sacred being
let them roar, says my inner demon
let them —
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shatteredpoems · 1 year
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I am body positive. My body is positive. It defines the negative space around it with its rebellious, impudent, mischievous existence. It has dimension and weight and resilience. It has been hurt, and suffered. It has been hurt, and liked it. It has known pleasure softer than your mouth and sharper than your tongue. It is imperfect and perfect and more than perfect. It is.
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ddiphilleyaggrayy · 1 year
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Oprok
Ho scarabocchiato questo corpo per te, per mostrarti come mi vedo, come sono. Queste linee curve e sbieche che tratteggiano la figura, un mostro grideresti, una deformità. Qualcosa che non può piacere, che non si può amare. Eppure eccomi, vivo, umano, come non vorrei essere.
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monomorphilogical · 1 year
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Built for this
They said ''God made you as you were meant to be,''
but I doubt this is what He was thinking of.
I'm made up of odd parts and pieces,
but it's enough to build something completely anew.
Look at me now, thin waist underneath wide ribs,
stare into the blue of my eyes, forget all about my voice.
I got rough hands on lean arms, soft skin but a strong jaw,
the potential to be sweet but I'll always choose the bone.
Bottom lip just big enough to sink your teeth in,
darling I swear I won't be the one crying when you bite.
Been told ''You can't redo the shape of your body,''
well can't you see I've done this all before?
God gave this pile of bones to me and I ran with it,
fitted against you perfectly as if it was meant to be.
Small enough to hold me and you love it so,
but I'm not built for this and you know it.
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alcuerpo · 1 year
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colbers607 · 2 years
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What Do I Do, Doctor?
Every day my body betrays me.
My brain has a glitch in its system.
My stomach had one too many last night,
even though I don’t drink anymore.
I can’t walk. My legs fail me.
Even my lungs aren’t performing to
the standards placed by nature.
One deep inhale, one controlled exhale.
I need the motley of medications,
but they seem to be causing problems too.
I’m all out of ideas.
What do I do now, Doctor?
What am I going to do if I keep up these problems?
It’s one thing after the other at this point.
No matter what day it is, there is always
something wrong with my body.
No matter the occasion, I always have
a headache, or I’m nauseous, or I’m dizzy.
I can’t go there because I can’t move.
What am I going to do, Doctor?
Doctor after doctor.
Specialist after specialist.
I’m treatable, not curable.
I am being betrayed by my own body.
The one thing I thought I owned.
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jomoljoseph · 2 years
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💃🏻@joseph_jomol
📸@ezrazakeriah
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oxytocxins · 1 year
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I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better.
(mary oliver, sleeping in the forest)
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feral-ballad · 2 years
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Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Eat”
[Text ID: “I am trying to stop doing / things that don’t make any sense. Body, / forgive me. I am trying. I am trying. I am still trying.]
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ddiphilleyaggrayy · 1 year
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cant-hold-it-in · 1 year
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freckles
I have wondered if i sat down and counted all of my freckles
How long it would take
How many would i miss or discover
How do i count those who kiss one another
As one or two?
I have spent all my hours
Counting the hairs between my brows
Running my fingers over the bumps of my skin
Molding my stomach into a shape, willing it to stay
I could have counted them twice by now
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sarahmesstuff · 3 months
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Happy weekend guys💦
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