Phinixien @phinixien - Tumblr Blog

im just a soft something

apple meat in a blanket peel

and the autumn circles three times

before snuggling in

like a cat in his citadel

#original #poetry #poem #my poetry #poet #spilled ink #short poem #sleepy #autumn #fall #cozy #cats #cottagecore

#original #poem #poetry #august #summer #seasonal affective disorder #title inspired by Rises the Moon by Liana Flores #my poetry #poet #spilled ink #queer poets on tumblr #queer writers #writers on tumblr #new poem #original work #depression #climate change #climate crisis #heat wave

#Wrote this in 2020 #portland protests #pandemic #covidー19 #poetry #poem #poet #queer poets on tumblr #blm #1312 #spilled ink #queer writers #my poetey #poetic #writers on tumblr #writing #poetblr #poetscommunity #original

#poetry #poem #poet #love #spilled ink #queer #lesbian #t4t #wlw #nblw #pride #queer family #nonbinary poet #trans

#pandemic is hitting hard today #my poetry #poetry #poem #poet #queer poets on tumblr #isolation #depression #apathy

#poetry #my poetry #poet #poetscommunity #new poem #poems on tumblr #poem #nonbinary poet #queer writers #mental health #inner child #spring

Remember that time we stole earrings from Claire's?

I miss you desperately.

It swells, heaving in my chest,

like that time we threw up

for laughing too much.

That time we got too drunk when we were too young.

Pearls roll off my tongue when I say

your name and they

clatter,

louder than clam shells,

on the concrete reality of your coffin,

and they are nothing compared

to the swine-truth of death.

And the days pass like

the rain soaked ribbon of the road

my feet pound down, and I cry out

maybe I can reach the past

before it happens.

And the roughness erodes my boots,

roperash of trying to pull your laugh back.

I hope the next time is better.

Running to Target in the rain,

I can do nothing but light candles

and whisper canons of grief.

For Mia Pearl

#my younger cousin committed suicide yesterday #national suicide hotline is 800 273 8255 #lgbt poetry #my poetry #poem #personal #butch poet

Discordia

Resting on a feather's breadth,

I sigh and pull closer your wept

singsong confessions, cradling them

And your bandaged cheek in my palm.

Resting on a foal's eyelash,

I bow like a viola with each ocean crash

of your laughter's moaned notes,

late into a spellcast night.

Oh, that starlight tremor of your eyes

that pulls me into gold droplets

for the divinity of your kiss,

the pomegranate and ichor of your kiss.

You are those cathedral ceilings,

cellar doors, wine-lit and moondrunk,

dark and stormy nights

spent in pews of petrichor.

You are tide pools,

and the mercury of gothic coasts

shrouded in moss and mystery,

or in secret empires of fungal decay.

You are honeybee wings,

the murmuring of shattered illusions,

do not forgive easily,

and remember like the Moon.

You are gunpowder,

and the smell of flash, burn, shock,

Quick decisions and quicker temper,

I whine for one flash of your flintlock.

You are harvest mead,

blackberries on the side of the road in August,

too much butter on cinema snacks,

and whiskey stolen from Mom's liquor cabinet.

I still taste those spinning summer stars.

I still taste wishes like popcorn.

I still taste hope like elderberry medicine.

I'll drink it happily, for you dear.

#for my fiance #love poem #poetry #my poetry #poem #love #sapphic #wlw #nblw #butch poet #poet #nonbinary poet #lesbian

Jack-the-Lass

Huddled against a crisp breeze,

On a park bench,

Her mitten near my glove,

Our whispers settle in,

The fog over a velvet pond.

The susuruss of frost

against our boots stuffed with paper,

We laugh when it isn't clear

If the crunch is snow

or this morning's front page.

I know there are mothmarks in my coat,

And when couples pass us by

I can feel the longing of your hand,

Despite all these layers.

I promise, as soon as we get home.

You stand, all swans and swords and secrets.

Like the condensating bench, I weep for your warmth.

I cannot take your hand, so I take your side.

Your giggle and sway brush our fingers together,

And we try to hide our race home.

11.02.2020

edit: 11.20.2020

#my poetry #poetry #poem #sappho #sapphic #butch #femme #lesbian #queer poet #spilled ink #lightly inspired by #gentleman jack #dedicated to the one i love #Edited this for word choice and spelling errors

shitmylesbianfiancesays

Sunday mornings are soft.

When shes still half asleep and she noses her way through the blankets until we’re touching again.

When the cool light of an overcast day peeks through our blinds.

Every car and bus and light rail sound far off, the way you can hear a city when you’re not quite inside it yet.

The morning sounds, distant distant distant, thrummed out by the heater announcing its presence.

The morning light, filtered filtered filtered, pools along her cheeks, slips further into the room while she sleeps.

She is so gentle gentle gentle.

My violet girl.

My starlit sugar.

My wife.

-written by Moth

Venmo: @sadsucculent

#some poetry from one of my side blogs #queer poets on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poet #poetic #poetry #queer poet #my poetry #lesbian poet #lesbian poetry #wlw art #lesbian art

6 Months Later

Thoughts of you are clutter.

Stranded, broken-down cars on an abandoned acre.

Spare parts.

No love, no you, to keep things running.

I seive the dry dust through my fingers.

Wander through our past.

Pick up the stones of past fights.

Pick at the splinters of hurtful words.

Pick through each nail and bolt and screw labeled "I love you."

Take stock.

Look past.

Walk away.

-By Phoenix Chambers, April 2017

Sometimes I Lose Myself

I come apart

I become a swamp.

Bits and pieces strewn throughout,

My voice tangled in the moss covered trees,

My hands floating in the brackish water,

Feet stuck firmly in the mud.

My anger turned cottonmouth, serpentine, sneaking, sinister.

My shins have fallen somewhere along the wayside, indistinguishable from the logs and crocodiles.

My head, my heart, are the boat that guides me.

This boat has sprung a leak.

This boat is filling with murky memory, fetid feeling, darkwater doom.

My arms, my oars, are dried out driftwood,

lifted away by a sour breeze.

She is wading through the mud and the muck and the moss

Collecting each piece,

Ankle here,

First kiss there,

Patiently untangling my voice from the trees.

Steers me to shore, both of us drenched in creek-tears.

Patches me together in the cabin of her love.

Listens to the creaking of my lungs as they settle back into my chest.

And,

somehow,

I am pulled together again.

By Phoenix Chambers

Written July 15, 2018

#spilled ink #spilled words #poetry #wlw poetry #nblw poetry #queer poetry #lgbt poetry #queer poets on tumblr #queer poem #i love my girl so much #please dont steal #@closetdrome

god-aesthetic

I lay in the ash of myself Made angels in the debris until I could no longer move Painted my face and hands with the grey until it burned I cried I dipped my hands into my corpse, Searched for something that was left until I could no longer see Journeyed through my rib cage, traced the marred bones until they were smooth I fell I broke my fist open Used my knuckle bones for dice until I rolled something other than snake eyes Kept the prison of my hands close and tried to keep my head down I failed I kissed the stars Burned my lips on every one of them until my binds were burned away Soared on moonbeams, Robed myself in starlight and void and Opened myself I flew.

@god-aesthetic (via god-aesthetic)

#poetry #poems #poets on tumblr #poetic #poet #prose #words #my words #writing

Oh god what have we done to each other You burned into me and I, Well, I doused your flames. I am digging into the forest Trying to escape the void we Scorched into the earth. I can still feel your lava in my mouth.

“Aftermath” by Phoenix Chambers

#poetry

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