Poetry That Moves Me

A place for the words of tumblr that tattoo my heart. (Poems, quotes, things that resonate.) Find my words at @rarasworldbro

[circlepoems]

Hypothetical Mastectomy

Stone circle, Estonian clown wants to solve a roomful of problems under Samhain's shadow. Grief wanes with Beaver moon, nibbling on wood beam to stay grounded. We live away from the earth, but this city keeps us afloat, hand-fasted. My face is falling off, not like a mask, like two days post chemical peel. Modern beauty standards, cross those Ts. Little twin stars have their own timeline, they won't bother anyone. (She and I, we live apart.) I turn down a job, but that's not my problem. I don't know how to talk to you anymore. The eventualities I fear. Falling out of language, telepathy. Worry as control, riddles and ciphers. Everything would need to fall apart to come together. Keep shirt on in bed and shower, barefoot and blistering. Trapeze walk the canyon between us, alive somewhere living messily. I have two thoughts, two beings, two truths. I am curious. What climate is your heart?

[weltenwellen]

Saeed Jones, "Aretha Franklin Hears an Echo While Singing "Save Me", Alive at the End of the World

[somebodyssongbird]

I don't want to be full of life I glide through paradox Quietly savage Sharp with secrecy And tinged with decay

I am no pretty thing Do not paint me in color But if you must Use deep red Rich brown And a touch of pale green

Write me into the forest After the fire has torn through With skeletons, bright Gleaming white As though they are living Sitting upright, teeth bared

[smakkabagms]

somewhere by the old waters wolfdark world the otherworld’s blue tinge, the hue of something altered and unrecoverable silence, within me 

[cherokeeghostwriter]

Patience

Beneath the patient weight of Another days dutiful obligation. I rest my mind in the quiet streams Of a wordless contemplation.

And though my hands are made weary, With this endless energy spent. My soul has settled  among the stars, and holds my heart content.

[cassemiah]

I go through and perform my daily checks, I've brushed my teeth, the dog is fed I'm not hungry

i'm so delirously tired

My email is empty, the trash doesn't need to go out

i haven't spoken to a person in two days

The dishes have been washed There's tea in the pot

i'm not sure if it's sunday or monday

But the sun is up.

[robertjw4688]

Politicians pretend to

pray over

their actions.

We starve, we rot, we

need to snap back or the

cloth will chew and

swallow us with

the meager

serotonin with which

they supply us

to remain subjects

instead of gods.

Robert J. W.

[leafsea]

promise is plucked like a petal from the flower of the future; and as it wilts, i, in seamless parallel, do too

[anjo-by-the-sea]

unda maris (Latin) {wave of the sea} “everybody agrees, everyone is tired the metronome ticks on life to inspire a new course, to track these nautical miles. even if, the desert was a sea* each new wave struggles, to be alive, to ask the question why civilians are targeted from the sky. a new moon smells salt in the air as the desert stretches from here to there the last free wolves point their noses to the ground howling, yet nobody hears a sound. rain falls cover footprints on the beach to where, we arrive is out of reach to lay yellow chrysanthemums, on the sand they are a reminder that we made a stand. we are the voices in the night reaching out to support a rescue flight and for all who chose to wait for a delay together, we can get there sooner than the break of day.” for @rydersworldbro

[ahurricaneinabottle]

Do you hear the screams of this zombie queen?

Her old self is trapped  behind the glaze of her brown eyes and she’s frozen in time.

Somebody break the glass!

Make her seen!     Forget her past!

She’s fading fast.

Shake her out of her misery (This wasn’t supposed to last)

Poor Zombie Queen always in a nightmare disguised as a dream

Somebody wake her up!

Can’t you see? Her old self needs to be freed

– Zombie Queen // h.w

[behindthelastdoor]

Poem 1747

This bitter root between my seams The wire that works against the grain I would cut and twist and tug it free— Then harrow my hide with tender hands

[soulreserve]

on cicada wings

If I had patterns         on my tongue,   like cicadas do on their wings                - tiny structures nanopillars, that stretch        and obliterate bacterial membranes; I would say your name once    - one last time,   and make peace      with the deafening quiet.

© SoulReserve 2021

[leafsea]

O

everything is repeating itself everything is repeating itself

i am trying to escape this dream, but

each portal takes me to yet another dream//

maybe realness is not what i seek; maybe i

am trying to go further in, because each portal

presents a world  more & more dissimilar

from my first: worlds where weakness is rewarded,

where everything is light and easy to carry

and all that matters is watching where you step

[aubriestar]

blue moon

every shade of blue filled

my eyes with run-off

from a azure sky into

an aquamarine sea

my love, my life in blues

music that riffs into waves

rolling with the melody

of a summer onshore wind

a sonnet singing opalescent

pearls that you strung

into songs for me

a blue moon night

when sea oats rhymed

whispers of love with

palm fronds quivering rustle

a serenade to venus passing by

evening kisses

across the face of the moon

~Aubrie~2021

[rivkahhannahsf]

[natalienvyadams]

civil

afraid to be stolen by the sun,

the dusk flirts with me

nautical

his brief existence is fairly abused

by his maritime poetry

astronomical

which can only be read with

non-artificial light

- Z.R.

[rydersworldbro]

The wedding bells on Neptune’s breath, a sour miasma to awaken to. The sun rose in the west. The chimes toll - the ringing won’t stop: did you know Bezos is building a 10,000 year clock? Direction is temporarily unfathomable, I cannot find the right side of the bed, or the right side of my head, and there is a shadow of residual grief in the shape of regret and youth unspent, and the smell of your brand of cigarettes hovering over my chest. A nimbus cloud looms, filled with the most human of destress and sweat and precipitation and palpitation and everything thats been left unaddressed. Inverse, everything in the wrong kind of reverse for a few swirling seconds that also contain the entirety of the unknown universe, I come back to myself like a bird swoop landing, back into the nest that is my home, my tangle of waning bones, and I realise although I slept several hours last night it feels like it’s been years since I got a decent rest.

Then again some just call this the wrong side of the bed // ©️@rydersworldbro

[consciousprose]

cherries

stained rouge from bitten flesh cherry lips whisper a tease to taste this month’s harvest- sour or sweet?

summer twilight rose tinted of lovers’ yearning enchanting I to discover the answers to her query

would I look as ravishing with cherry juice dripping to a place we only speak of in the privacy of our kitchen

- aleta jay