#summer poem

[lunchboxpoems]

MICHAEL SIMMS

#Michael simms #poem #poetry #fatherhood #swimming #fatherhood poem #summer #summer poem #summer poetry

[coffeebooksandmore]

“In the summer

I stretch out on the shore

And think of you.

Had I told the sea

What I felt for you,

It would have left its shores,

Its shells,

Its fish,

And followed me.”- Nizar Qabbani

IG: coffeeandbookss

#summer #summer poem #summer love poem #summer love #summer nights #summer reading #poem #love poems #poetry #love #beautiful #photography #favorite #bookstagram #love poem #reader #read #sunset #nizar qabbani #book quotes

[pretty-paper-cuts]

Sixteen Summers

Sixteen summers passed me by,

My sun baked skin turned bronze,

And my braids slowly came undone,

As each summer, the winds grew warm,

I had a trophy shelf till 6th grade,

And it grew heavier each spring,

But as every autumn flowers fell,

I recall no joy twelve Mays could bring,

And way too often the seasons turn,

And I’m trying not to turn too bitter,

But the grass is hardly greener when,

Monsoon gives way to winter,

And for sixteen Junes, my summer has kept,

Painting each tragedy in sun-drenched gold,

But the year is hardly over yet,

And I’m only fifteen winters old,

Will my next November be kinder still,

Will my angels weep, carved from snow,

Or will the frost leave aching skin,

As I’ll watch the icy blizzards go,

But my sixteen winter isn’t the end,

Nor a pause in uncertainty,

For who knows what the heat shall bring,

The summer I turn seventeen.

#born in summer #born in May #poetry #self written #literature #poem #original writing #young poets #creative writing #original poem #female writers #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #summer #summer poem #childhood #sixteen #sixteen years #poems on childhood #new writers #writers of tumblr #poets on tumblr #gifted child #burnt out #seasons #gifted #poetblr #self written poem #poems and poetry

[kiramalibu]

summer doesn’t haunt my

body like it used to, but

i still feel uneasy when

i feel someone’s gaze

even under lustful ones

i’m seldom to feel positive about

all of my body’s imperfections

i just think it’s too hot to

pretend to be somebody i’m not

and i swear Mother Earth is trying

to warn us of what’s to come

but the waves have only ever

embraced me and

all i have to offer

and i suppose that can

be good enough for today

the beach // kira malibu

#kiramalibu #writerscreed #poet #poetry #illustrans #spilled thoughts #poets #quotes #twcpoetry #spilled words #summer poem #summer poetry #prose writing #spilled ink #spilled writing #writingthestorm #poeticstories

[adventuresoficarus]

I carry summer on my shoulders

And I’ll put my windows down

My sunroof is my portal to another world

Makes me feel younger than I am now

And I damn well hate this town

I’ve never felt so lost

In places I know so well

Heat in the roof of my mouth

Feels almost like anger

And tastes of adventure

- SCB

#adventures of icarus poetry #my poetry #original poetry #thoughts #writing #poetry #my poem #poets of tumblr #late night poetry #summer aesthetic #summer poem

[stillgrowingwildflowers]

I hope your love grows as your flowers do - that you never leave them wondering if you love their tired wilted petals just as much as you love their sunshine summer hues.

-where she grows / made of earth -

#summer quotes #spring quotes #poetry #spring poem #summer poem #summer love #love quotes

[scraebble]

Probably It Will Be Summer Again by Catherine Pierce

#poetry #catherine pierce #summer poem #hope #summer

[cosmicbirch8]

#poetry #poem #female writers #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #spilled ink #witch #poetscommunity #druidess #women writers #sunset #summer sky #summer #summer vibin' #summer poem #summer poetry #summer post #nature poetry #poetry by women #poetry by me #poetry blog #spilled poetry #short poetry #poetry spilled ink #spilled words #female poets #beautiful imagery #poetry writing #writing #poetry moment

[queen-of-empathy]

Ripe

there’s a peach in the sky

I want to take a bite

let’s go walking outside the city

to let summer’s sweet juices

rain down on us, just because

the coastline looks so pretty from above

like a rough hewn cup brimming with

that nectar of the peach in the sky

and the spoils of each little bite

crescent shaped

like the gentle marks made

(earlier today)

by your teeth on my shoulder blade

#female poets #original poem #female writers #original poetry #original poets on tumblr #poetscommunity #poetry #quotes #poets on tumblr #poem #peach #summer #summer poem

[lunchboxpoems]

PRISM

1. Who can say what the world is? The world is in flux, therefore unreadable, the winds shifting, the great plates invisibly shifting and changing–

2. Dirt. Fragments of blistered rock. On which the exposed heart constructs a house, memory: the gardens manageable, small in scale, the beds damp at the sea’s edge–

3. As one takes in an enemy, through these windows one takes in the world:

here is the kitchen, here is the darkened study.

Meaning: I am master here.

4. When you fall in love, my sister said, it’s like being struck by lightning.

She was speaking hopefully, to draw the attention of the lightning.

I reminded her that she was repeating exactly our mother’s formula, which she and I

had discussed in childhood, because we both felt that what we were looking at in the adults

were the effects not of lightning but of the electric chair.

5. Riddle: Why was my mother happy?

Answer: She married my father.

6. “You girls,” my mother said, “should marry someone like your father.”

That was one remark. Another was, “There is no one like your father.”

7. From the pierced clouds, steady lines of silver.

Unlikely yellow of the witch hazel, veins of mercury that were the paths of the rivers–

Then the rain again, erasing footprints in the damp earth.

8. The implication was, it was necessary to abandon childhood. The word “marry” was a signal. You could also treat it as aesthetic advice; the voice of the child was tiresome, it had no lower register. The word was a code, mysterious, like the Rosetta stone. It was also a roadsign, a warning. You could take a few things with you like a dowry. You could take the part of you that thought. “Marry” meant you should keep that part quiet.

9. A night in summer. Outside, sounds of a summer storm. Then the sky clearing. In the window, constellations of summer.

I’m in a bed. This man and I, we are suspended in the strange calm sex often induces. Most sex induces. Longing, what is that? Desire, what is that?

In the window, constellations of summer. Once, I could name them.

10. Abstracted shapes, patterns. The light of the mind. The cold, exacting fires of disinterestedness, curiously

blocked by earth, coherent, glittering in air and water,

the elaborate signs that said now plant, now harvest–

I could name them, I had names for them: two different things.

11. Fabulous things, stars.

When I was a child, I suffered from insomnia. Summer nights, my parents permitted me to sit by the lake; I took the dog for company.

Did I say “suffered”? That was my parents’ way of explaining tastes that seemed to them inexplicable: better “suffered” than “preferred to live with the dog.”

Darkness. Silence that annulled mortality. The tethered boats rising and falling. When the moon was full, I could sometimes read the girls’ names painted to the sides of the boats: Ruth Ann, Sweet Izzy, Peggy My Darling–

They were going nowhere, those girls. There was nothing to be learned from them.

I spread my jacket in the damp sand, The dog curled up beside me. My parents couldn’t see the life in my head; when I wrote it down, they fixed the spelling.

Sounds of the lake. The soothing, inhuman sounds of water lapping the dock, the dog scuffing somewhere in the weeds–

12. The assignment was to fall in love. The details were up to you. The second part was to include in the poem certain words, words drawn from a specific text on another subject altogether.

13. Spring rain, then a night in summer. A man’s voice, then a woman’s voice.

You grew up, you were struck by lightning. When you opened your eyes, you were wired forever to your true love.

It only happened once. Then you were taken care of, your story was finished.

It happened once. Being struck by lightning was like being vaccinated; the rest of your life you were immune, you were warm and dry.

Unless the shock wasn’t deep enough. Then you weren’t vaccinated, you were addicted.

14. The assignment was to fall in love. The author was female. The ego had to be called the soul.

The action took place in the body. Stars represented everything else: dreams, the mind, etc.

The beloved was identified with the self in a narcissistic projection. The mind was the subplot. It went nattering on.

Time was experienced less as narrative than ritual. What was repeated had weight.

Certain endings were tragic, thus acceptable. Everything else was failure.

15. Deceit. Lies. Embellishments we call hypotheses–

There were too many roads, to many versions. There were too many roads, not one path–

And at the end?

16. List the implications of “crossroads.”

Answer: a story that will have a moral.

Give a counter-example:

17. The self ended and the world began. They were of equal size, commensurate, one mirrored the other.

18. The riddle was: why couldn’t we live in the mind.

The answer was: the barrier of the earth intervened.

19. The room was quiet. That is, the room was quiet, but the lovers were breathing.

In the same way, the night was dark. It was dark, but the stars shone.

The man in bed was one of several men to whom I gave my heart. The gift of the self, that is without limit. Without limit, though it recurs.

The room was quiet. It was an absolute, like the black night.

20. A night in summer. Sounds of a summer storm. The great plates invisibly shifting and changing–

And in the dark room, the lovers sleeping in each other’s arms.

We are, each of us, the one who wakens first, who stirs first and sees, there in the first dawn, the stranger.

LOUISE GLUCK

#louise gluck #poem #poetry #summer #summer poem

[alex-a-roman]

A friend

Dear Diary, Remember me? We walked together On that trail that took us far away, We climbed those mountains As if they were trees, We fell down and got up again; I will be honest though, I'm not some hero, I'm not a saint, Most days I wasted time Trying to live like someone else, Most years I stayed behind Waiting for someone special, Maybe a friend?!

~ A. A. Roman

#writerscreedchallenge #writers #poetry #dark poetry #dark academia #poetry community #poetry corner #spilled poetry #spilled feelings #spilled tears #spilled words #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #literatutre #literature #lit #summer poem #poem #poems #spilled poem #authors #poets #aaroman #alex a roman

[western-fence-lizard]

some silly goofy dog thoughts

#poetry #original writing #writing #original poetry #poet #trans poet #dog #dog poem #dog poetry #queer poet #california #summer #summer poem #summer poetry #YIKES! MY DOG IS NOT THE GENTLENESS I PAID MONEY FOR!

[joandidionluvr]

by Jane Kenyon.

#summer poem #we’ll dream of a longer summer #jane kenyon

[bell-honey-well]

Summer Heat

August dresses nicely.

August wears it well.

But August likes to play with knives

So August burns like Hell.

#poetry #poem #poets on tumblr #poetsofinstagram #spilled poetry #august #summer nights #summer #summer poetry #august posting #august heat #august poetry #summer post #summer poem #heat #spilled ink #spilled words #poets #spilled thoughts #writer #summertime #women writers

[kiramalibu]

my knees are becoming as

weak as my heart

you see

this is what summer does to me, my love

the sun reminds me of everything

i will never be

i fear wondering eyes more than

the imperfections on my body

it’s not difficult to see why

nobody would want me

this is the season that everyone

looks forward to?

is this some joke?

the heat scorches everything it touches

every day during the summer is redundant

my body yearns for the tan, but

it has always been reluctant

so it’ll hide under layers that it doesn’t need

this season reminds me of everyone

that i couldn’t please

summer blues/unfinished

kira malibu

#kiramalibu #writerscreed #poet #poetry #illustrans #spilled thoughts #poets #quotes #twcpoetry #spilled words #spilled ink #writingthestorm #poeticstories #summer poem

[cluster-c-chloe]

The "C" in Alone.

If you come across one of us.

The afflicted and cursed.

I'm sorry.

Our strength to continue, is little to none.

Pathetic. Weak.

And we wander aimlessly at night.

If we're encountered?

Distance is drawn.

Not for you. Mostly for us.

For us, it's a natural ritual. To others, foreign.

We do this for survival and for the sake of others.

Knowing one of us is unnecessary.

Going on thinking there's a solution for us is pointless.

We're broken.

If you offer a hand to one of us, it will freeze.

Our hearts are cold, void of emotion.

Unlovable. Numb.

All that can be felt is permafrost.

Leave us.

We are animals that should be put off to the side of the road, and left for the elements to take us.

Perfect euthanasia.

The best I can offer the world is solitude from it.

You're welcome.

#depressing life #sad aesthetic #avpd #sorry for being depressing #depressive #heartbreak #loner life #loneliest #ai poetry #sad poem #summer poem #pointless post