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soulfulreverie · 9 months

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living-in-salt · 5 years

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Inferno

Deep in my chest is a fire dying to get out,

And so what do I do?

I open my big mouth and spit flames. I'm sorry,

this happens every time.

I try to say I love you, but instead I burn the whole

village down.

I try to say don't leave me, but instead the whole

forest is ablaze.

I try to say I'm sorry, and now everybody is just dust.

Last night I went to bed with a dry mouth and wet eyes.

When I woke up, my hands were made of tinder and

my legs were made of kindling.

When I woke up, the fire in my belly had already turned

me to ashes and smoke.

Secretly, I am still longing for you to

breath me in so I can sit deep in your chest and slowly

make you mine forever.

Secretly, I am waiting for love to kill me.

#original #poem #poetry #spilled ink #creative writing #twc #exhaling catalysts #new poets society #thesesagepoets #poetry blog #twcpoetry #poetryriot #poetryportal #writerscreed #inkstay #illustrans #writers corner #blotchedpoetry #blotchedpoems

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ntpoetry · 5 years

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So I sit in a yellow home, with yellow walls that remind me of my childhood- when the weight of my mother’s grief didn’t make her back ache, and my father’s eyes didn’t look so tired. I wonder where sorrow goes when it has no where else to plant its roots. Does it build a yellow home with yellow walls? Is that why I sit here writing with my heart on the floor?

#poetry #spilled ink #poem #newpoetssociety #poets on tumblr #thesesagepoets #rejectscorner #writer #alt lit #poet

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theprocast · 6 years

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I sincerely hope that you find the courage to walk away when you need to, even if it means breaking your heart into tiny million pieces.

s.a., let yourself be healed

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write-em-down-for-real-blog · 9 years

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The box marked f

In times of sleeplessness I’m given to introspection, Lying awake leads to self reflection, I open a box of memories marked ‘F’s collection’ Though I know I won’t like this selection, The mix of emotions is eclectic, Because we started out live and electric, Then we went and made a bloody mess of it, Hurt each other just for the hell of it, Come the end I realised our main attitude was apathy, While wearing clothes Im no longer a sap for ye No hate not love, Just blank sexual passion as dissuaded by our father above. I think that emotion might be the saddest of all, I bet neither of us have ever felt so small.

#poetry #emotions #poem #rhyme #thesesagepoets #new poets society #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #exes #memories #relationships #introspection #sorry to that girl in particular #ex girlfriend

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minniewheat · 9 years

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It Can’t If It’s Still In Love With You

I used to tell you everything now you're gone I still do I tell the ghost of you who wanders through my memories

You speak so softly in my ear I cannot hear the words you say though I wish your voice would cease to stay your whispers echo through my head

It's lonely here inside my mind with none but us this ghost of you and I I think I'll try to say one last goodbye to you

Go now please it's time you left I ask that you would let me go because my heart needs to grow and it can't if it's still in love with you

#Poetry #Personal Writing #thesesagepoets

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soulfulreverie · 9 months

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you fed me, when I had no appetite for life.

s.a., dining companion

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living-in-salt · 5 years

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Donjon

I fall in love with the people I save,

I always have.

I hear the princess calling out for help

From the tallest tower and I

Immediately start scaling the walls.

It doesn't matter who I am with,

Or who I am in love with,

Or who the princess is.

I never even ask the princess why she's in

The tower in the first place, or who

Even put her there. I just start climbing.

Climbing, climbing, climbing.

So I guess it makes sense to say that

Now I'm stuck up here. I'm sure you've

Figured out by now that it is impossible

To get down. The princess never saves herself,

After all.

I am too weighed down by my armor, I am not

Strong enough, the tower is too high up,

And I doubt you even still care at all.

If I jump I will surely die. If I don't, I will die.

I am waiting for the dragon to come and knock

everything down.

I am waiting for the castle to collapse.

#poetry #poem #original #spilled ink #creative writing #writing #twc #exhaling catalysts #new poets society #thesesagepoets #twcpoetry #blotchedpoems #blotchedpoetry #poetry blog #songoftheclouds #poetselixir #poetryriot #writerscreed

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ntpoetry · 6 years

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I want to kiss your neck, but im afraid my lips would turn glass- would split your throat in two but maybe then you won’t feel censored. Won’t have to dance around the secrets you’ve hoarded in your mouth. Do they tuck you in at night and keep you warm the way I used to? Does it burn like wildfire when you swallow? // Let me kiss your neck, darling, you’ll probably like it. You’ve talked about death so much it shouldn’t hurt by now. Shouldn’t catch you by surprise. I’ll set you free, don’t you know– I’ll do you this favor. I’ll kiss your neck, As your friend…

An allegory of mixed signals

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theprocast · 6 years

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Be with someone who finds beauty in your ugliness, who sees light in your dim, who is gratified to see all your corners and edges. And my god, my god, when you finally found that person, keep this in mind: DO NOT EVER LET GO.

s.a., whispers to zephyr

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ulyssesatsea · 9 years

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Death 1

On the verge for something greater

On the edge of all that is earth and dirt

I am far and in between

Fumbling for thoughts

Torn and tattered

Bitter to the touch

Squeamish at the sight of fingers

Stomach churning in rhythm with the alarm

Vomit always reaching the tipping point

And yet, I cannot be selfish.

It is the point of exposure where they see right through me

Sometimes they hold me in their arms, tell me tales of hard times

Times harder than maybe mine and yet they survived.

But I........ I cannot. I will not survive. And this is the conundrum.

I feel this in my bones in every fiber in the timbre of the way they move against each other.

The scrotumtightening sea means nothing to me.

I will never see the green, I will never make it there.

Because at the bottom of it all is the lack of love I feel inside

The erasures that left with my father

At times I see his face and nothing and then everything.

Words mean nothing.

Nothing is tangible.

I am lost again and no one can care to realize that I am fragile.

My mother used to take me in her arms and rock me.

Now she looks at me out of spite and resentment

She sees the reality I pushed onto my father when he was living

And the utter despair he felt before death

She can not consolidate

Her body is weak, a 90 degree angle waiting

Waiting for car keys to be taken out of her hands

Waiting for her realization that Parkinson’s is incurable

Waiting for her to realize that the lack of physical movement means death.

She calls me selfish.

I am selfish.

I won’t be there to take the keys

I won’t be here to mourn my father

I won’t be here or there to watch everyone grow old and die

I refuse happiness because it is beyond me

I except darkness because she is the only one to console me

The only one to let me tell her how horrible the pain feels

The way it reverberates through my body until I cannot walk

How it confines me to surviving instead of functioning

The manifestation of rage and confusion

She takes it all and tells me come closer

She coaxes with her finger

And I am not squeamish any more

And at the bottom of everything is the pile of bones and body which once defined me

And I, I am free.

#poetry #thesesagepoets #poets on tumblr #new poets society #poem #death

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megiddo · 9 years

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Life will flash by only once

Let us this last dance Let's lip synch to this song You make me want to shout You will fan your fingers in the air Lift your arms and cry out All of my days fly away You are teeth and absence Bathed in flower petals You touch me and I am This silly thing I say An animal dream in the arena Leap up at my throat You are a slip of paper She is the revolution and so are you And you are and you are They put their arms around you And you will do this too Wrestling thumbs and winning With smiles and burbling laughter She fell all the way And you race down the stairs And she catches you A strange kindness Immolates your immortality With a devastating kiss

Michael Baumgart

#poetry #poem #poetry bomb #thesesagepoets #writing #words #spilled ink #spilled words #lit #Life will flash by only once

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write-em-down-for-real-blog · 9 years

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An ideal life

Look at anyone's poetry blog and grand descriptions of life will come along, They're actually all pretty accurate it's just life itself that feels wrong, But let me add some more to the list so I won't have missed out on trying to describe life with a new twist, Life is a risk, life is brisk, life is an endless quest to get kissed, life should be about so much more than where and when you're next getting pissed, But really if I had one wish, I'd make life so much less like a river, Rushing forth ever changing, I'd make life so much like song, Simple, sweet and coming back to the best parts in a way I'll call refraining, Maybe I'd make life like a lake, Lakes are stable, we'd be able to plan our lives and worry about nothing but rainfall, maybe it would be painful to stay in the same place and never see more than our own home kitchen table, But if I could make life like just one thing, I'd make it a circuit in which I repeated one moment, One perfect enough to be fixed in time and frozen, It would be two young lovers laying in a bucket swing, His head in her lap as she began to sing, On a cool summers night, No responsibilities in sight, No worry or fright, Just our hands and bodies clasped so tight, Yes that would be the only way to make life properly alright.

#poets on tumblr #thesesagepoets #poetry #new poets society #spilled ink #poem #rhyme #life #an ideal world #memories #summer nights #love #relationships

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audlines · 9 years

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His confession was the first tulip bloomed that bright spring morning A yellow bulb, showing off all his might and courage His uncountable professions amidst repeating mistakes, his unyielding persistence to have her closer, closer, closer

#rejectscorner #spilled ink #thesesagepoets #twc

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