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#out of my collection
lifeinpoetry · 2 days ago
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Now that I’ve survived when does living begin?
— Derrick Austin, from “My Education,” Tenderness
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aboutbirds · 5 days ago
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Hades: What was that? / Hermes: What was what? / Hades: I heard a voice / Hermes: I heard it not / Hades: Someone singing / Hermes: I heard nothing / Hades: Some kind of song / Hermes: You could be wrong / It could have been the wind / Hades: The wind? / Hermes: It could have been the rain / Hades: The rain? / Hermes: It could have been the train . . . (the train / the train / the train / the train . . .)
Anaïs Mitchell, early verses for “Wait for Me,” from Working on a Song: The Lyrics of Hadestown
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medeae · a year ago
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Seth Dickinson, The Traitor Baru Cormorant
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lifeinpoetry · a day ago
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              I will not say the words                  scorching both our tongues.
Will not let this become another metaphor
       for how my family taught me              my body as another name for pyre.
— torrin a. greathouse, from “All I Ever Wanted to Be Was Nothing at All,” Wound from the Mouth of a Wound
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lifeinpoetry · a day ago
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& isn’t this just like my poems? / Dressing a violence in something pretty & telling it to dance?
— torrin a. greathouse, from “Ekphrasis on My Rapist’s Wedding Dress,” Wound from the Mouth of a Wound
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lifeinpoetry · 5 hours ago
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I skipped meals. Trimmed fat.                       Dreamed of another body,          revised                       again & again like the rough draft of a coast.
I was always a mouthful away         from unbecoming.
— torrin a. greathouse, from “All I Ever Wanted to Be Was Nothing at All,” Wound from the Mouth of a Wound
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lifeinpoetry · 9 hours ago
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This story is about sex. But not how you assume it is. Words load themselves like a gun. I say gag, you are already imagining the scent of sweat, the sound of one body choking on another. Instead I mean the desperate of one body to empty itself into change. Instead I mean ketosis, acid stained teeth. The words do all the work for me. Reframe the story so it tells itself, before I even open my mouth.
— torrin a. greathouse, from “Discovering My Gag Reflex, an Absence,” Wound from the Mouth of a Wound
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lifeinpoetry · 2 days ago
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I feared a knock at the door. I needed a hand. Would you have found me on the deflated air mattress, among filthy shirts, half-eaten food? I don’t know what to call doubt when you are here and I am not. What is it to be exiled in you?
— Derrick Austin, from “Remembering God After Three Years of Depression,” Tenderness
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lifeinpoetry · a day ago
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Proverb
Terror infests the heart like hornets which breed in a miasma of violence, whose brood vomit a sugar substance     for the nest—     no room for a friend.
— Derrick Austin, from Tenderness
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lifeinpoetry · 14 hours ago
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The shower stall my body’s confessional —here, I admit, I love most what can be removed from me.
I raise the heat until my thighs bloom with small guilty hands, scrub dead cells, till new skin to soil.
Trace fingernails across my skin, each red ghost they leave behind, a scalpel daydream, plowed & opened dirt.
— torrin a. greathouse, from “Weeds,” Wound from the Mouth of a Wound
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lifeinpoetry · 2 days ago
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I have sat under the girth of quaking aspens, their honeyed heads, yellow combs, leafs of long hair, and because I have raked my forearms with tines of confused adolescence, picked the balk of brown skin from beneath my fingernails, and because I have understood the eulogy
— Benjamín Naka-Hasebe Kingsley, from “In the Coffin Meant for Chief Little Horse, Archeologists Instead Find Two Others,” Dēmos
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lifeinpoetry · 2 months ago
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I said, “Don’t touch my mouth. There’s teeth in there,”
and you replied,
“There’s teeth everywhere on you.”
— Avni Vyas, from Little God
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lifeinpoetry · 8 months ago
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Come love, make me better than I was.
Come teach me a kinder way               to say my own name.
— Andrea Gibson, from “Good Light,” Lord of the Butterflies
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lifeinpoetry · 2 months ago
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sometimes i want to ask the earth, was it beautiful          here without us
or maybe you were lonely too
— Shayla Lawz, from “flight training,” speculation, n.
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lifeinpoetry · 3 months ago
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Some pain // stays so long its absence becomes // a different pain—
— Kaveh Akbar, from “An Oversight,” Pilgrim Bell
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lifeinpoetry · 4 months ago
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My body takes on sadness the way lily pollen stains everything. / Accidentally, gently, permanently.
— Cynthia Miller, from Honorifics
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lifeinpoetry · 4 days ago
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This is why we dance: Because screaming isn’t free.
Please tell me: Why is anger–even anger–a luxury to me?
— Mohammed El-Kurd, from “This Is Why We Dance,” Rifqa
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lifeinpoetry · 7 months ago
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And sometimes I want to win. And sometimes I want to lose so badly I can taste it. To surrender everything I’m made of: the neat, fenced acres of my separateness— that little plot of land I’ve spent a life defending— to let go until there’s nothing left of me but that great vault we spoke of, its endless dark, its pitiless silence.
— Danusha Laméris, from “Worlds in Worlds,” Bonfire Opera
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lifeinpoetry · 6 months ago
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I take out my throat / but the grief remains
— Alessandra Lynch, from “Couplets” Pretty Tripwire
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lifeinpoetry · 29 days ago
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All right, then, annihilate me; that other self was a fiction anyhow.
— Sarah Ruhl, from "On interruptions," 100 Essays I Don't Have Time to Write
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