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poetic--elixir · 2 days

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“You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

Jonathan Safran Foer

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rapturepoetry · 14 days

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i'm never a priority

i'm never someone's reason for waking up

the giver, never the taker

never the taker, always the asker

i ask for time

i ask for patience

i ask for comfort

i'm never a priority

never the taker

never the reason

#new poets community #new poets corner #new poets on tumblr #new poets society #poetry #aesthetic #spilled writing #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #spilled heart #spilled truth #personal #thoughts

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1nn32dem0n5 · 4 months

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she baked me cookies

once a girl has cooked for you just for you she has given you her heart. at the very least say thank you.

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #poetry #poems #words #writers on Tumblr #poets on Tumblr #new poets on Tumblr #new poets corner #new poets community #new poets #new poetry #new #poezi #poezii #poet #poetry community

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alex-a-roman · 2 months

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The monster never leaves

I’m tired of writing, but I can’t stop The same words, spinning inside my head, I know I’ve said it all, but not enough The page is always empty And there’s always pain waiting to be spilled.

I take another sip of alcohol, We both know this isn’t me, This is the people that I heard about – The ones I never liked, Which in a way makes sense Because I never like what I see, The face in the mirror, still full of lies, Full of stories that I will never live!

Another day, another line Of whatever comes first, I don’t know what happened To the one who used to dream, So eager to dance alone, Play piano and guitar, Take photographs of every scene; The one who wished to make up stories for a living Is long gone now. And I am tired, I am so tired and so devoid of life, Because the monster never leaves!

~ A. A. Roman

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malencholic-nyx · 1 year

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As the stars light up the night sky above,

And the moon shines with its gentle love,

I long for the touch of your lips so sweet,

To feel the warmth of your embrace complete.

But it's not just your lips that I desire,

It's the way you make my heart catch fire,

With every gentle kiss on each little mole,

That adorns my skin, a beauty to behold.

On my chin, on my eyelid, and by my ear,

Each one unique, each one so dear,

And the one on my collar bone so fair,

All of them together, make a picture so rare.

So come closer, my love, and feel my heart,

As we share this moment, never to part,

And as you kiss each little mole so divine,

Know that you make me feel like I shine.

For it's not just my moles that make me beautiful,

It's the way you love me, so unconditional,

So hold me tight, and never let go,

As we watch the stars and the moon glow.

–Nyx

#hopless romantic #romanticism #aesthetic #love poetry #love language #fantasy #poem #new poets corner #poetsandwriters #poets corner #poetry community #writer and poets

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loveisbrief · 14 days

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a brute lover’s muses — by ada.

[ thank you @judas-redeemed for helping me edit this piece! text id in alt. ]

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magdamateo · 7 months

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#creative writing #poetry #depressing poem #female poets #original poem #poets on tumblr #writeblr #poems and poetry #poetas #stay #dead poets society #new poets corner #friendship #hope #poems on tumblr #short peoms #sadbeautifultragic #poemsbyme

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poetic-little-doll · 6 days

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You’re like an echo I’m waiting to hear back from…

…but at this point I think I’m talking to myself.

S.Lilobell (What did you think talking to the darkness would be like?)

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ivaspinoza · 8 days

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Dark New Age

Oh, lazy sapiens sapiens, wake up, get out of your grave made of soft dopamine pillows! I beg you, ask questions. The dangerous ones that you don't want to ask. Use your brain, I implore. Stop swallowing agendas like you swallow pills, advertisements of parallel dimensions that do not exist, and stupidity in general. Wait, what? What was that? You can't breathe? Spit this garbage you have been feeding yourself – it gets stuck on your throat. Yes, it will get you killed. Silently, very slowly, you won't even notice. Yes, that is dangerous, so please, spit it out now. You will be fine. Here, take this glass of grouding, warm, and dry reality. Bite the truth cracker. Be honest with yourself, and maybe you will survive a few more hours to finally see the sun rise and kill this dark age we live in.

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cythepoet · 5 months

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I dream of being a poet,

Sharing my thoughts and feelings,

Through beautiful words and phrases,

But it's so tough when the world is crushing me down...

It's almost as though the world wants me to crash and burn...

Motivation is crashing like old buildings collapse,

Hope leaving like the dead leave earth,

Happiness dying like the people at war.

I wanna be a poet, but I'm stuck here in this helpless world with too many people like me.

With hopes and dreams, but no motivation and skills.

With wars that endlessly damage and rampage through cities and towns.

World peace isn't real, dreams are just as fake.

I wanna be a poet, but I have nothing to make up for my wish.

I lack skills and motivation,

I lack pride and dreams,

Perhaps if I was someone else,

I'd be a better poet.

- Cy

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letterstomonkey · 7 months

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I am Second

I am a hearth first and a threshold second.

I am a fire first and an Irish exit second.

I emanate warmth at first, with one foot crossing the threshold from the first posed question-

I’m gone in a second.

I didn’t know what a hearth was,

Until I knew, that blood too creates a spectacle of art upon my face,

I know a fireplace does not insinuate a warm place,

and an audience doesn’t imitate the heart-to-heart I always chase.

Artists don’t know anything, except for how to create space

To perceive and be perceived;

I am an artist second, and first

A literary receptacle, or

A candlelit canticle, or

A memory semantical; I am

A digression indigestible.

I’m fascinated by perspective, popcorn and rare pennies,

My grandma’s orange lilies, and your lack of spatial awareness around me.

I named a garden after myself, and I damned every root and bud yet to bloom to Eternal Internal suffering.

I read aloud my words, then cleanse my teeth with antifreeze,

I bake inedible pastries for the sake of constant fleeting company.

Fringe jacket sleeves depict perfectly

my fear of touching what is forbidden, not realizing until it is too late.

I love Christmas, for I specialize in giving my gifts away recklessly

Abandoning myself,

And I am at home because I know how to do something right when I am second.

I still need permission to enter a room first, I beg for mercy over every mess I make.

I keep my blinds closed, wondering how to be perceived, comfortably.

I keep my door closed, wondering

Who will be the first to leave with the best of me?

If my words are my favorite part of me, then

What am I worth when they’re working against me?

I never wanted to become wild, when

I was seeking forgiveness before permission,

I was spoken to like a child as

My seeking acceptance gave way to remission.

I’m a teacher’s pet, and I’m not sorry for that.

I love learning and I hate being my biggest distraction.

I was a teacher’s pet until they introduced me to fractions.

I wanted to be a teacher until they all

Reduced me to a distraction wearing jean shorts.

They spoke their intentions, and

Eventually I learned to savor such adult attention.

Why do we keep pretending to care about intentions?

How they litter tainted, moral principle remnants?

I still don’t know if I have ever been a good friend.

I have yet to remember not to reach for bread and butter across the dinner table

When I eat with my elbows on the table, I think of my grandmother,

how I love her without needing anything from her,

how I have come to accept people that do not accept me.

Morally obligated intentions haunt my ancestry, but lightning struck my family tree.

It ends with me.

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poetic--elixir · 7 months

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Truth is like fire; to tell the truth means to glow and burn.

— Gustav Klimt

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rapturepoetry · 16 days

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The Child You Never Wanted

you tell me to brush my own hair I don’t know how you roll your eyes and tell me to figure it out

I’m brushing as hard as I can Tearing pieces of my hair out with knots, clumped up and bloody

I’m crying and go to tell you there’s blood mommy I’m not sure if what I’m doing is right

But you scream at me for bothering you Can’t you do anything by yourself? Why did I even have you?

I run and hug her, tell her I’m sorry I cried I love you mommy, I won’t ask again

I squeeze harder, if the hug is big enough it shows how much you love them

She doesn’t hug me back.

#new poets community #new poets corner #new poets on tumblr #new poets society #poetry #aesthetic #spilled writing #spilled poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #mommy issues

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1nn32dem0n5 · 1 month

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it's the little things

I am from east europe and my name can't be pronounced in the midwest so I dumb it down for them but she said it right and that was enough for me

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #poetry #poems #words #writers on Tumblr #poets on Tumblr #new poets on Tumblr #new poets corner #new poets community #new poets #new poetry #new #poezi #poezii #poet #poetry community

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4sss · 11 months

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My heart strings may be a little out of tune. So long it's been since they've been used. Still I want play a song for you. A melody for my muse.

J.c.A

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malencholic-nyx · 1 year

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They say it's a man's world

But who suffers the most?

Women, blamed for things

That are not even their fault..

Expected to play a certain role

To please, to serve, to give it all,

But what about our own dreams

Our own aspirations, our own goals?

Marriage is not just our responsibility

It takes two to make a promise,

Why do we have to suffer alone

While they roam free, taking advantage?

When they cheat, they expect us to forgive,

To forget the pain they caused us.

But what if the tables were turned,

And we were the ones who broke their trust?

Would we be called a slut, a whore,

A label we didn't deserve..

But when they cheat, they get a pass,

As if it's their right to hurt and betray.

We are not just some prey,

To be kept locked up and controlled.

We are strong, we are brave

So don't ask us to be quiet, to forgive

When the mistake is not our own,

We can stand up for ourselves and hold our own.

We deserve respect, we deserve love,

And we won't settle for anything less than that...

(Breaking the Chains) by –Nyx

#i'm not a feminist #gender equality #womenempowerment #respect #poetry #spilled ink #writer and poets #deep poems #new poets corner #female rage #desiblr #artists on tumblr #poem #nyx

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