#elegy for my sadness
metamorphesque · 7 days ago
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— Elegy for My Sadness, Chen Chen
[text ID: Maybe the centipede in the cellar / knows with its many disgusting legs / why I am sad. No one else does.]
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eternal--return · 8 days ago
my unsweet, uncharming, completely uninteresting sadness. I wish it could unbelong itself from me, unstick from my face.
Chen Chen · “Elegy for My Sadness.” When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities (2017)
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colourofinfinity · 2 years ago
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elegy for my sadness, chen chen // notes on staying, hieu minh nguyen // boot theory, richard siken // song of the open road, walt whitman
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columbogf · 2 years ago
I wish I could peel all my sadness in one long strip off my skin & toss it in a bucket. No one would have to carry it. It would just sit there & be punished. It would just sit there & think about everything it’s done.
- elegy for my sadness by chen chen
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lifeinpoetry · 4 years ago
I wish I could peel all my sadness in one long strip off my skin & toss it in a bucket. No one would have to carry it. It would just sit there & be punished. It would just sit there & think about everything it’s done.
— Chen Chen, from “Elegy for My Sadness,“ published in Breakwater Review
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rudranurag · 10 months ago
"Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me"
Taylor Swift / The Lakes (from the album folklore)
Elegies- sorrowful poems / speech (her songs)
Eulogize- praise someone in a speech or writing
Meaning- She is saying, isn't it beautiful how all her sad songs (about her and for her) end up embracing who she actually is.
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slimepuppysupremacy · 4 months ago
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reading this and thinking abt tomgreg….
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exeomori-m · 2 years ago
under normal circumstances i don’t like my characters having to experience any kind of homophobia because roleplaying is an act of escapism for me. HOWEVER. because of the time period & place charles grew up in (historically, victorian england wasn’t an... ideal place for gay people to live) he deals with a lot of internalized homophobia (& to a degree transphobia.) 
i don’t think i’ll ever talk about it much but when i do i will always be sure to tag it properly.
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booksfornamjoon · 3 years ago
Sleeping in your hospital bed, in the unconsciousness of your being that was running away, you were the most beautiful corpse. You were so beautiful, dad. Your little body, as always, at a distance of a hand. But you would not wake up. You didn't. You were remotely present. And I would have spread my fingers. Caress and tell you: "Dad, wake up, let's go back home." But your dream was eternal. I wish I could have been able to touch you one last time. I was afraid that you would feel my touch and know that you were embarking on the first trip without us. I was afraid you would know that you were dying.
Will you know up there that you're dead? You didn't attend the last moment of your life. Maybe you opened your eyes in the coffin and thought: "Where are you all?" But we were by your side, even if you could not see or hear us anymore. Dad, did it hurt? How beautiful you were spread out in the whiteness of the sheets, as on any Sunday. I could not say goodbye with words, I did not know the way. How to say goodbye to someone whose heart is programmed to beat a few more hours? I dared to approach and kiss you good night. You breathed slowly. It was hard to look at you, to deny your own death. Not even the tears fell. Your innocent daughter thought you could wake up if her tears soaked your face. I kissed your cheek. I kissed your cheek and you were still alive even if your body was dead.
What to tell you if you woke up? If you opened your eyes, you grabbed my wrist and begged: "Why are you leaving, my daughter? Why are you abandoning me?" And I answered: "Because you're dying, dad, because you're dying and I can not go with you". I can not go with you, daddy. Wait for me.
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bowiepens · 4 months ago
@ the person i was gonna write with who deactivated today; i hope you're okay ♡
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eternal--return · 12 days ago
I want to be a sweetheart in every moment, full of goats & xylophones, as charming as a hill with a small village on it. I want to be a village full of sweethearts, as you are, every second of the day, cooking me soups & drawing me pictures & holding me, my inexplicable & elephant sadness, with your infinite arms.
Chen Chen · “Elegy for My Sadness.” When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities (2017)
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spiritwarned · a year ago
flora tags
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meerschweinchen1993 · a year ago
What are some of your favorite poems/pieces of writing?
general disclaimer that im much less well-read as my carefully curated internet persona might lead on... but these are some pieces of writing that make up the mycelium network of my mind’s undergrowth:
tim riggins speaks of waterfalls - nico alvarado
as from a quiver of arrows - carl phillips 
what the dragon said: a love story - c. valente
hunting season - steven chung
yes, think - ruth stone
from blossom - li-young lee
psalm - dorianne laux
sleeping in hte forest - mary oliver
percy wakes me (fourteen) - mary oliver
here there are blueberries - mary szybist
try to praise the mutilated world - adam zagajewski
de profundis - christina rosetti
new bones - lucille clifton
morning love poem - tara skurtu
forfeiting my mystique - kaveh akbar
that kind of good - natalie wee
the mower - philip larkin
valentine - carol ann duffy
happiness from paul schmidtberger’s design flaws of the human condition
we ate the birds - margaret atwood
i want to tell you yes - kallie falandays
ode to buttoning and unbuttoning my shirt - ross gay
not the beloved from anne carson’s erso the bittersweet
after the movie - marie howe
accident report in the tall, tall weeds - ada limón
in tennessee i found a firefly - mary szybist
when i put my hands on your body - david wojnarowicz
the mystery of grocery carts - john olson
your night is of lilac - mahmoud darwish
a dead thing that, in dying, feeds the living - donika kelly
please read - mary ruefle
dudes, we did not go through the hassle of getting these fake ids for this jukebox to not have any springsteen - hanif andurraquib
we lived happily during the war - ilya kaminsky
while the child sleeps - ilya kaminsky
the forgotten dialect of the heart - jack gilbert
what the living do - marie howe
eleven - sandra cisneros
revolutionary letter #4 - diane di prima
elegy for my sadness - chen chen
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sunpdf · 9 months ago
“I want to be a sweetheart in every moment / full of goats & xylophones, as charming / as a hill with a small village on it. / I want to be a village full of sweethearts, / as you are, every second of the day, / cooking me soups & drawing me pictures / & holding me, my inexplicable & elephant sadness, / with your infinite arms.” - chen chen
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“I started living alone, vacuuming my apartment weekly, saving parmesan rinds for soup, calling to negotiate better rates for utilities. I became a better cook and friend, especially to myself. These specific tasks are not meant to demonstrate adulthood, the inane fantasy of the unrigorous that there is a finite level—based often on what you can afford to own and what that implies—at which no further acquisition of skills or growth is necessary. Rather, it’s to illustrate that I now live my life in a way that suggests I care to be in it. Naturally that desire transfers to other tasks, practices, and ways of relating––what I mean is that it transfers to love.” - lucy morris
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“Everyone needs a place. / You need it for the moment you need it, then you bless it — ‘thank you soup...’” - richard siken
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“By definition, comfort foods are rich and creamy or evocative of childhood pleasures.” - samin nosrat
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“every time my family went on a road trip when i was young we would go to this restaurant that was famous for its split pea soup and they had the cardboard cutouts in front that you put your face up to. and my brother and i would always take a picture. and now i have a collection of pictures of us growing up in front of that split pea soup restaurant” - @persimmongal
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“Soup is the song of the hearth... and the home.” - louis p. de gouy
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“Every time I feed people, I am offering them the universe on a plate" - jeong kwan
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“I want to remember us this way—
late September sun streaming through
the window, bread loaves and golden
bunches of grapes on the table,
spoonfuls of hot soup rising
to our lips, filling us
with what endures.” - peter pereira
1 chen chen, elegy for my sadness
2 samin nosrat’s ribollita
3 susan avis murphy, bowl of soup
4 lucy morris, every long letter is a love letter
5 wayne thiebaud, cream soups 1963
6 richard siken, detail of the hayfield
7 pablo picasso, the soup 1902
8 noah verrier, grilled cheese & tomato soup 2020
9 samin nosrat, a comfort food dish rich in friendship
10 ponyo (2008) dir. hayao miyazaki
11 message from my best friend, the love of my life, @persimmongal, on 9/12/2021
12 the taste of pho (2019) dir. mariko bobrik
13 louis p. de gouy, the soup book: 770 recipes
14 portrait of a lady on fire (2019) dir. céline sciamma
15 whisper of the heart (1995) dir. yoshifumi kondō
16 jeong kwan via michelin guide global 
17 jeong kwan’s vegetable mandoo with dduk in light vegetable broth 
18 peter pereira, a pot of red lentils
for persimmongal 🍲 ♥️
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heavensickness · 10 months ago
if its inconvient though stories/poetry that you enjoy would be great :-)
It would be too long if I put my favorite poems AND poets in the same post so I decided to give the poets whom works I read the most & my favorites from them
John Keats (Ode to a Nightingale)
Arthur Rimbaud (The Drunken Boat, Comedy of Thirst)
Paul Verlaine (A Poor Young Shepherd)
Emily Dickinson (I Am Nobody! Who Are You?)
Mary Oliver (The Wild Geese, Invitation, The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac, October, Moments, Starlings in Winter, Little Crazy Love Song, I Worried, Worm Moon, Black Oaks, We Should Be Well Prepared, In Blackwater Woods, Someday... You know what, read any and every work by her that you can find)
Frank O'Hara (Having a Coke with You, For Grace, After a Party, Steps)
Audre Lorde (Pirouette, A Litany for Survival)
Alice Notley (Songs and Stories of the Ghouls and In The Pines (poetry collections), Love Song, Have Made Earth as the Mirror of Heaven, An Excerpt from In The Pines)
Louise Glück (Averno (poetry collection), Departure, Lament, Persephone the Wanderer, A Myth of Devotion, Sunrise, Marina, A Fable)
e. e. cummings (i carry your heart with me, somewhere i have never travelled gladly beyond, i like my body when it is with your…)
Chen Chen (When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities (poetry collection), Self Portrait as So Much Potential, Race to the Tree, Chapter VIII, Poplar Street, Elegy for My Sadness, How I Became Sagacious)
Jeremy Radin (So I Locked Myself Inside A Star for Twenty Years, With These Hands, Sign, A Word)
Andrea Gibson (The Madness Vase & Lord of the Butterflies (poetry collections) Asking Too Much, I Sing the Body Electric, Birthday for Jenn, Yellowbird, Your Life)
Mahmoud Darvish (In The Presence of Absence (poetry collection), Sonnet V, Your Night is of Lilac, In Her Absence I Created Her Image)
Ocean Vuong (Night Sky With Exit Wounds (poetry collection) Thanksgiving 2006, Homewrecker, Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong, Threshold, Untitled (Blue, Green, & Brown): oil on canvas: Mark Rothko: 1952, Reasons for Staying)
Richard Siken (his entire poem collection of Crush, i've read it at one sitting)
Clementine Von Radics (In A Dream You Saw A Way to Survive (poetry collection) Courtney Love Prays to Oregon, The Grapefruit Poem, It's The Way, Mouthful of Forevers, That Spring Everything Grew Wild and the Rain Came Down Like Punishment, I No Longer Believe Anger Will Save Me, Bitter, Storm, A conversation between / my therapist / and the mouth that sometimes belongs to me, Sweet The Sound)
Ada Limón
Margaret Atwood (Power Politics and Interlunar (poem collections) A Sad Child, There Are Better Ways of Doing This, Eurydice, Night Poem, Eating Snake, Half Hanged Mary)
Ursula K. Le Guin (Looking Back, The Drowned Girl)
Franz Wright (God's Silence (poetry collection), On Earth, The Heaven, Quandary, Clarification, To Her, The Poem, East Boston 1996 Night Walk)
Rainer Maria Rilke (Sonnets to Orpheus (sonnet collection), First Elegy, Second Elegy, Go to The Limits of Your Longing, Evening, Part One IV)
Anne Carson (Tango XXII. Homo Ludens, Apostle Town, The Glass Essay, Plainwater (essay and poetry collection), Autobiography of Red (verse novel), O Small Sad Ecstasy of Love, Stanzas Sexes Seductions, On Hedonism (an excerpt from Plainwater)
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hjarta · 2 years ago
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Elegy For My Sadness by Chen Chen
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violints-a-blog · 3 years ago
giving them their coat . ( ben )
among everything ,   there’s these rare moments of happiness.   they’re in the backyard ,   &  vanya thinks they’re playing capture the flag ,   but she’d gotten a bit lost while luther was explaining the rules.   she’s meant to be guarding the flag for one of the teams.   she’s not sure which one.   (  that’s probably important.  )   she watches her siblings run around the yard ,   five teleporting about ,   diego blocking his ears so allison can’t rumor him into giving her the flag ,   and she smiles.   she isn’t quite part of the group ,   but she’s group - adjacent ,   and that’s closer than usual.   she’ll take it.
she doesn’t notice she’s shivering ‘till ben walks up to her   &   hands her his jacket.   (  she’d left hers inside ,   in such a hurry at the prospect of being included in one of their games that she hadn’t thought to grab it.  )   she smiles at him as she slides it on ,   the sleeves going past her hands.          ‘  thank you.  ’         she glances back to their other siblings for a moment ,   unable to quite make out what’s going on.     ‘  are we winning ?  ’
            *   meme  :  wordless fluff .          / /           no longer accepting .
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smakkabagms · 3 months ago
world, I have taken from you midnight hours, hems of darkness places where only fable resides like a soul, in some secret deathwork forgive my sentiment, they are like violets   thieved from far-off mountains I have never seen what can I bring you, in return? motherwort, lady’s mantle, my Eye dyed black in ink’s desperation everything else has left me, small moths my name carved pointlessly into the blue with such sad, creaturely needs to be known                              I burden and birth none                           alone lawless affection, bodies of water, or longing                                   only       these certainties are left: loss the self     withdrawing over allegories of aging flesh which we do, us all the mouth an elegy for echoes
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april-is · 2 months ago
April 4, 2022: I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense, Danez Smith
I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense Danez Smith
O California, don’t you know the sun is only a god if you learn to starve for him? I’m bored with the ocean I stood at the lip of it, dressed in down, praying for snow I know, I’m strange, too much light makes me nervous at least in this land where the trees always bear green. I know something that doesn’t die can’t be beautiful. Have you ever stood on a frozen lake, California? The sun above you, the snow & stalled sea—a field of mirror all demanding to be the sun too, everything around you is light & it��s gorgeous & if you stay too long it will kill you & it’s so sad, you know? You’re the only warm thing for miles & the only thing that can’t shine.
More Danez Smith: from how many of us have them? // not an elegy for Mike Brown // in lieu of a poem, i’d like to say
Today in... 
2021: In the Morning, Before Anything Bad Happens, Molly Brodak 2020: Interesting Times, Mark Jarman 2019: The accident has occurred, Margaret Atwood 2018: Little snail, Anonymous 2017: Poem for My Son in the Car, Jennifer K. Sweeney 2016: Postcard to Baudelaire, Thomas Lux 2015: What The Dead Tell Us About Charon, Ferryman Of The Dead, Brett Ortler 2014: The Trees, Philip Larkin 2013: A Small, Soul-Colored Thing, Paisley Rekdal 2012: Last Supper, Charles Wright 2011: I Said to Poetry, Alice Walker 2010: Disgraceland, Mary Karr 2009: What To Say To A Bear, Ionna Warwick 2008: In The City of Light, Larry Levis 2007: the mockingbird, Charles Bukowski 2006: Part of Eve’s Discussion, Marie Howe 2005: I thank You God for most this amazing, e.e. cummings
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eternal--return · 7 days ago
Now, I am in love—with you!—though sometimes terribly sad for no good reason, & not so much angry as guilty when you say to me, Don't cry, don't be sad, as if my sadness could sink this room, this apartment, this whole city not Paris. But does my sadness always need to be your sadness? I wish I could write an elegy for my sadness because it has suddenly died. I wish I could mourn it by kissing you again & again while neither of us can stop laughing, a kind of kiss where we sometimes miss the mouth altogether, a kind of kiss I think every single dead person in every part of the world must crave with violent impossibility.
Chen Chen · “Elegy for My Sadness.” When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities (2017)
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