The Poetry Others

Two others, communicating only through poetry.

[poetryothers]

New poetry lit mag my friend and I are making and you can be in!

[poetryothers]

How did you two meet?

about 5 years after H was born, P was born and that is how we met.

[hudlion]

Not Look Back

So my full length poetry debut, Thread Unrolled sold out its first run but I ordered 100 more copies from the printer and you can buy one now!!

This is a poem from the book I put over some ambient footage

Thread Unrolled

Thread Unrolled is the culmination of years of writing. It is a physical printing of the 188 page collection of the 12 micro-chapbooks I rel

[hudlion]

Thread Unrolled

Thread Unrolled is the culmination of years of writing. It is a physical printing of the 192 page collection of the 12 micro-chapbooks I rel

I sold out of my first printing and have ordered a second run!

Thread Unrolled hitting the shelves! Get your copy!

[poetryothers]

This is me! my book debut!

thread is very much a spiritual auccessor to the poetry others project!

If you like poetry others, get a copy of Thread Unrolled

[hudlion]

I wrote a book!

Thread Unrolled

Thread Unrolled is the culmination of years of writing. It is a physical printing of the 192 page collection of the 12 micro-chapbooks I rel

It is on pre-sale right now. It is 20 bucks for nearly 200 pages of poems. This is the culmination of several years of work. It explores a lot of themes, love, loss, daddy issues. Religious abuse, transition, the end of the world. And so much more.

If you buy during pre-sale the physical copy ships mid-december but you get a free digital copy immediately!

Please feel free to share this post!

[poetryothers]

This is me. H from poetry others. This is it. the next big project after this blog. I appreciate everybody who followed along and hope some of you come on this journey too.

[poetryothers]

5/4/22

leftovers

will it stay? there is no light when the door is closed

the rot sets in forgotten just out of sight

haphazardly contained and fondly remembered as you dispose of the remains

[poetryothers]

5/2/22

hunger

consumed by it cannot fill the hole so numb these days it consumes all the hole that fills me these days are numb

it is dreary here rain and grey

my stomach and mouth have not been on good terms lately the lines of communication have soured

I used to eat the days but my appetite is not what it used to be

I used another excuse I drowned out the shouts chemical protests in my body that pang I silence them

I have been a body for so long. I do not wish to say good bye. If this continues, I won't fare well.

My eyelids are heavy with craving, sleep is a low calorie treat

I love myself but not enough to treat myself well. I spent a lot of time developing my self hatred and replacing it just does not come easy.

I examine the relationship between beauty and pain

Aesthetic value derived from suffering and scarcity

If you have too much, if you are too much, how can you be just enough?

it's not like this is thoughtful restraint

I know what I should do, what I want to do. I don't do it. How do you explain the taste of your body eating itself?

And it's not like I won't eat. Eventually I will eat so much. When the hunger consumes me I consume the world.

I have never been in balance and it's hard to stop the body in motion with no outside force.

The rational part of me knows that I am valuable as I am. I do not need to lose anything to gain value.

The feral part of me is desperate for love and connection and all too aware of how much better I could be treated if I deprived myself, if I could only restrain myself.

The taste of sour spit, the pain in the throat where bile burns. That is the taste of isolation and fear.

Body dysmorphia lives in me more truly than any gender could.

Every time I binge eat, I think the terrible thought. Why couldn't I have gotten the eating disorder that makes me hot? And by hot I mean skinny?

The fatphobia and transphobia are dancing around together inside me. Triumphant and jubilant.

The rational part of me knows how disgusting these thoughts are. Moreover, how untrue they are. I could starve myself and never be skinny. I could be skinny and never be loved. I see fat people who are beautiful but cannot see that in myself.

And I have felt hot before in the body that I have. It's frustrating that I find it difficult to see myself as beautiful unless someone is whispering that I am in my ear.

I see myself as a utility. I am a source. I am a well. I just want to share what I have to offer.

Hunger is a need not a want. I learned early not to center my own desire. A terrible lesson that I don't deserve to receive as well as give.

I don't know how much more I can take of this feeling. It is lack. Numb. Unfeeling.

I know that I am hungry but I do not eat. I do not feel this hunger but I know I need to eat. Because if I do not eat this hunger will eat me.

[poetryothers]

5/1/22

one fear remains to face until then

in the end of lions jumble through sleep ingratiate yourself

beg in the dark wept through the night chalked up to dust

list ends for means swap through beyond ultimate under control

her dance was sweet sent through a knife a finger wrapped around

men shun the unknown hurt through repair unbroke with the fix

see nothing knew here receipt through the mail upon purchase, a void

hope enough for two many through one

[poetryothers]

5/3/21, H

I sort the laundry into baskets

I remember how to wash my hands

I look backwards as I throw salt over my shoulder

Do you think that this will come out?

Do you think this spot is forever?

[poetryothers]

5/1/21, H

dizzying heights

icarus wax dripping

little sun on a wick

shadow of a wing

snuffed out

[poetryothers]

4/24/21, H

my heart is slurring

I've had nothing to drink for months

fully cared for and doing caring

daring to be careful

I'm not a shitstain

I'm not a bed, broken

I'm not a rusting spring burst out the wooden structure

I am a meadow, a gift, a beam of light

I am all warmth and giddiness felt

I am that transcendental moment of revelation

I want you to join me here but can't adequately describe it, all I've left to say is, Come and see.

[poetryothers]

4/14/21, H

dark accumulation aching,

hunger bows to thirst,

satisfaction craves itself

contorted into self fulfillment:

the body prophesies!

rivets of blood

drip certainty and permanence held in place;

threads of spit dangle

in the cave

of an open mouth,

is the sweat of the day washed clean?

then a rivulet of salt water turned red,

fastening us to this place,

in a mirror image is

exposed as virulent

fluidity

unsightly timing

burnt off my desire like fingerprints;

I can anesthetize,

but I'd like to feel your pain

can't stand in the heat?

well, sit at my table—

let me prepare myself for you

even Jesus, in the end, wanted to be consumed

[poetryothers]

4/11/21, H

waking up for lost time

memories degaussed 

static cover up, mind 

blank, empty thoughts, 

no head, on my shoulders

feel like I lost it

childhood was no paradise

but I'm only guessing

moments repeated 

stuck with no skipping 

hopped up on the couch

sat there scared of sleeping

together, we piece the puzzle 

of me back, from the wreckage, salvage yards 

from the fabric of reality, 

torn, as understanding bursts

at the seeming. 

can't see anything on the tv, my brain is unplugged, the outlet is covered, stuck a fork in it, shocked to find it done, now we're cooking with gaslighters, now you're grilling me for hints at my complaints, I exist for compliance, I reply to existence, both are dreaded, full of it and myself, wrenched over in full flop sweat, touch grass and wither, snap wrist and cry, clown princess balancing act, no bow at curtains, duck under the window, see them coming to get you. 

tied down on a chair in the driveway, held down on the mattress, held up on the sidewalk, knocked down in the street

knots around your wrists, go limp 

knot in your stomach, stop eating

knot in your throat, just swallow

I don't have to play, dead is 

a way of life to me, aspirational. my mom was 

so afraid her son 

was gonna kill herself.

oops. 

asking me over and over what I needed but never giving it. what a relief it would be to stop needing it. 

I meet people and I don't procrastinate, don't wait til tomorrow to put them off, first

impressions leave me wondering if I have a best foot

into the mouth of babes, who toe the line at oral fixation. 

I feel like I struggle to be or move forward, I was not taught to express desire but to suppress it. 

who do you put on trial for tribulations? who hurt you and never saw justice? who stole your days and hours? 

I am left so tired, but finally awakening. 

[poetryothers]

1/3/21, H

emerge into the splendor of midday brilliance

the sun is setting sooner than we'd like

we go toward spring and summer but the winter holds us tightly

clouds of fog roll in grey and sap the light and color from us

the sleeping stiffness of my body grips me even as the rumble of passing engines rouses me to wake

we cannot listen to the dreamsong forever, the laughter echoes on the street

scrub the sleep from your face, tear down the wallpaper, be made new

drink deeply of the afternoon because night will be here, sooner than it may seem

dry husks, rehydrated, invigorating, brain pounds the drums of war

did you not slumber enough? now wake, do not let the days pass you by

I lay in my bed alone thinking about how I should be laying in my bed next to someone

I hear the rain kiss the ground like I should be kissing now,

wet wheels driving by below me splash up puddled rainbows

I close my eyes and I see nothing.

every winter rain is just a snow that should have been

[poetryothers]

11/28/20, H

everybody sells out every day

my body aches for a price

chemical storage, space in my

lungs, between breaths

I want the this on the record

and the record expunged

red eyes, flying through night

stay high, head in clouds of vapor

coffee and cigarette breaks,

baked right into the job is

chemical dependency

and happy hour after work,

let's grind, and then drink our

selves silly, let's watch

the game playing itself out

oh it settles, it separates, it

repeats and the time pays us

off, the time frees itself up,

and we violate our terms of

contract, our lives are binding

us, but we were not born bound.

[poetryothers]

11/24/20, H

feathers

plucked from dreams

of flight, tickling

at the back of my sub

conscious, enveloping a growing thought toward

...

something?

silken, smoothed over, swept

under the tides are turning,

the tables are set, returning

to the season of the crime.

feathers falling like leaves into forest fires, barbecued hopes, all pinned on this. a top, my bed, pillowy fascination.

flowers are dry, petals crush

to ash in my hand, to dust, to be planted like kisses

on the dead earth, dandelion

wings on the winding

sky road.

scattered memories seed

the ground, I have lain fallow

for two years. distance

stops meaning, allows for mistakes, and when the dream comes, do not go

back to sleep.

[poetryothers]

11/10/20, P

Isn’t it funny to feel the joys of existing again? Those aches and stabs that revolve like stars around an emptiness that reaches through the body, the unholy sensations, fear and shame and the like, they put a dangerous smile on my lips. Once again I found myself contemplating my patron, just a man, a boulder, and a hill for all eternity; why must he push it up again and again? Because without it, what else is there.