Poetry @peoplpeople - Tumblr Blog

I weeded, (x)

#spilled ink #poetry #tumblr poetry #anxiety #poem

- (x)

#spilled ink #wip #champagne bursts #poetry

Maurice (1987)

#this makes me so crazzzyyyy #maurice #em forster #maurice 1987

Maurice EM Forster // Normal People // Alone Edgar Allen Poe // Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine Gail Honeyman // Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Céline Sciamma // Conversations with Friends Sally Rooney

I feel like each conversation with her is: am I known to you? And I say: you are known. And then she won’t ask if I have a pen, because she knows I always forget. And I think that, in a way, I am known too.

x

#poetry #spilled ink #poets on tumblr

it shouldn’t give me hope, but it does, that as the world buckles beneath our weight and the air opens to fire, we still make art and flock to these beautiful things with kindness and joy

#i still think that love and kindness is what we need to save the world #spilled ink #poetry #poetry on tumblr

I follow the order of things to do when the spin begins. I know the moment. The spiral is a drawn breath, and then blood from the cheeks, and then a lightness, and a sadness, and an anger so damning and cool that my vision goes dark. I go quiet, I listen to my breathing. I scream at myself - this is not you. Don't let this take away who you are. So I count the things I know to be true. They love me. I know because they tell me. I know because when I'm cruel, and distant, and mean, they tell me I'm cruel and mean. They want me to get better. They want me to know when I'm hurting them. They love me - because 1. The light is left on when I come home late at night and 2. Anniversaries are remembered and 3. They know I don't like being touched first. They let me come to them. And 4. They say; 'I love you'. 'I love you'. I am not a cruel person because: 1. I leave the light on for them and 2. I cry about refugees and forest fires and lost homes and 3. Sometimes I'm brave enough to be vulnerable for their sake and 4. I'll never relinquish my pride. I'll never give into humility. Except for them. Except for them. So in the morning, to keep the blood in my brain from turning rough, I 1. Read books that shaped my childhood and 2. do yoga in the front room breathing as loudly as I want and 3. tell me dog she's beautiful and 4. try to make someone I love laugh. And laugh with them.

I was scared of going to therapy

#spilled ink #poetry #prose #recovery

Pleasure the lost daughter, voice on the wind, in love with a reflection of a choice she might have made. Care for the mother, her desperate song on the evening breeze a fate lost in the valley deep, She'll repeat the wind, for this she cries down the mountain in bliss, as breeze, and (deep). For the lost (lost) daughter's voice sings the might have been (slaughter), on the wrong wind. (Been). And the reflection in the pond a droplets outward rumble And on, she cried, cries, and on. (on).

Echo

#echo #greek myth #poetry #tagammemnon #spilled ink #narcissius

i think we try to be good more than we try to be bad. It’s the bad that’s insidious to watch for. It’s a sea snake the colour of the seaweed it curls through. I pluck the green to see it between my fingers / the bite burns my palm, wrist, finger, thumb

#praying

Artemis cries stars plenty tonight /

she adorns you to my heavens

Orion

#spilled ink #artemis #greek mythology #orion #poetry

sometimes the learning is that there is no learning. sometimes the hurt just is.

#spilled ink

It's not mortifying to be known,

It's mortifying to not be known.

What's loneliness to the empty sky?

What do the clouds think, as they drift above us?

For I think , and I feel, but none know

None know the me, the beat, the me. The me.

Can one be me without being known? Felt?

Can the clouds see the unseen? Do they know?

The itching rash of a lulled and desperate soul

Which spells out the end of time and space with each blink, you know.

They say the soul enters

From the mouth, or so.

Know me. Please know me. Please, please know me. I'd do anything to be known. Please let me be felt. Find me. Find me now. And properly. See me in my entirety. Let me know that I am here. That you are here. That the here is here.

#spilled ink

the beleaguered let the eyes burn i think, and i call it an in-between of sorts. the space between the dot and the eye and the pause before the cross and the tee. its not loss, i consider carefully consider, and curl the see if the thunderclap never followed the lightening bolt anyway. I don't decide whether to sharpen the em or soften it so I call it an in-between instead pen underhand is better than done in a rush and, well a dream can't be dreamt. not without a long stemmed dee. and a beating heart or well-worried bottom lip. I straighten a curved l like a long labouring spine. Readers can't make out small words. That is, Unless they've a seeing-glass, and glass is made with a smartly rounded gee. and the round bit is an in-between, i'm sure now. an in-between with a bit of bravo, brace, and no base. i like to break bee's with honey-cut bound cast-off cut-offs. cast off, i think that a gail follows the screeching I let the guise of the half-bent life leeching crash foil a long rounded lengthened curled and finished-properly eff.

alphabet soup

#spilled ink #poem #poetry

zhaoluna

This is Tomoe Gozen, a skilled female samurai in the 12th c. who participated in the Gempei Wars. Let me tell you why she’s so badass.

The climax of her story: Tomoe was so skilled as a samurai that her Lord made her the commander of his army. When his army was down to only a handful of samurai left in their final battle (she being one of the only few survivors!), he told her to leave because he didn’t want to die next to a woman. Her pride hurt (as he was also her lover), she told him that she would follow orders. But before she did, she effortlessly beheaded one of the most skilled warriors on the other side just to prove herself. Then she rode off and survived the war. Never underestimate a woman!

#c:hana #bk:II