P o e t r y

original poems by a. cheung (so_mei) | other quotes | musings

[annacheungpoems]

[annacheungpoems]

[bahatitx-deactivated20211216]

green's my colour.

[smallhorizons]

[Image Description: Text of the poem “To the Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks, next to a black and white photo of the poet. Poem reads as follows:

Sit down. Inhale. Exhale. The gun will wait. The lake will wait. The tall gall in the small seductive vial will wait will wait: will wait a week: will wait through April. You do not have to die this certain day. Death will abide, will pamper your postponement. I assure you death will wait. Death has a lot of time. Death can attend to you tomorrow. Or next week. Death is just down the street; is most obliging neighbor; can meet you any moment. You need not die today. Stay here–through pout or pain or peskyness. Stay here. See what the news is going to be tomorrow. Graves grow no green that you can use. Remember, green’s your color. You are Spring.

/End ID.]

[annacheungpoems]

[annacheungpoems]

Maja Lindberg (Swedish Illustrator)

[perfeqt]

“I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.”

— Marilyn Monroe

[annacheungpoems]

Marilyn Monroe's intelligence was so underrated ❤️

[annacheungpoems]

[megairea]

“The moon grows out of the hills A yellow flower, The lake is a dreamy bride Who waits her hour.”

— Sara Teasdale, from Stresa; Rivers to the Sea: Poems, 1915

[annacheungpoems]

On the rooftop, the universe hung, bloated with stars, the deep indigo spiralled with galaxies. We locked lips, igniting sparks, cigarette smoke lazy on our mouths. We laid back, surrendering to the cosmos and wondered if we were stardust gazing back at ourselves.

[koeningzine]

koening zine - issue #1 - call for subs: horror ed. (SWAMP)

issue #1 theme

for our first issue, we’d like to invite you to join us in the SWAMP.

tell us what you find in the swamp. tell us what finds you. we’re interested in all sorts of swamps: living and dead; digital and physical; mental and spiritual; its ecosystem and its inhabitants. illustrate all the ways you can get lost in it. bring to us the ugly, the gore, the guts and the glory. 

even though this is a themed issue, we encourage explorations of the subject from a range of perspectives. horror can take you by surprise in the comedic, get tangled into the romantic, ooze out of the dramatic and even comfort you in the tragic. drag us into the muddy depths of it all.

read the full submission guidelines here.

[annacheungpoems]

On the rooftop, the universe hung, bloated with stars, the deep indigo spiralled with galaxies. We locked lips, igniting sparks, cigarette smoke lazy on our mouths. We laid back, surrendering to the cosmos and wondered if we were stardust gazing back at ourselves.

[annacheungpoems]

Why, what have you thought of yourself? Is it you then that thought yourself less? Is it you that thought the President greater than you? Or the rich better off than you? Or the educated wiser than you? Because you are greasy or pimpled, or that you was once drunk, or a thief, or diseased, or rheumatic,or a prostitute, or are so now, or from frivolity or impotence, or that you are no scholar, and never saw your name in print, do you give in that you are any less immortal? - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

[ragewrites]

[luthienne]

hi :) i love your blog so very much. i can’t sleep and im feeling horrifically anxious and i was wondering if you have any words that i can use to wrap myself around. anything that feels like being held ♡

Callista Buchen, “Taking Care”

Pat Schneider, “The Patience of Ordinary Things”

Kim Hye Rim

“Come, let’s stand by the window and look out / at the light on the field. / Let’s watch how / the clouds cover the the sun and almost nothing / stirs in the grass.”

Danusha Laméris, The Moons of August; “Thinking”

Heather Christle, “Then We Are in Agreement”

Holly Warburton

Ross Gay, from The Book of Delights 

Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

Bernadette Mayer, from The Way to Keep Going in Antarctica

Ben McLaughlin, The Train

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Joy Harjo, from “For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet”

[annacheungpoems]

[annacheungpoems]

[aikaleegrave]

bloody my hands ‘til you hear me || transcription below || [ title source ]

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