SLAPKISS

blog for some of the good-ass poetry on tumblr. because words are music, and we love that shit. <3

[slapkiss]

hi :)

I don't post much here aside from poems, but I just wanted to say y'all are lovely. There are so many brilliant writers here, I love getting lost in all the stories. I smile more because of this writing community

[slapkiss]

Sorry for the lack of poems! Life's been pretty saturated as of late

Plan to start fresh in a couple weeks. Hopefully keep with again :)

[jlimrosenberg]

The Fool

Bottled stars, sailboats that glow in the jaws of century-egg sunsets,

his mother’s questions and his father’s silence, the good silver and time:

what he has is what he’s got, nothing more. There are summers still.

     ~jlimrosenberg

[moonjunesoon-deactivated2023022]

[maldarchive]

in a year or several the lover I have is all the more critical because I have told them every story of mine and now I start to lose memory

in this way I turn myself inside out inside my lover my narrative plastered within them

I am lighter than ever in all my forgetting I have never felt so comforted before in being myself

I am afraid though that if they hold my story they will hold my anger too its sharp knife pointed where I cannot even see it

[new-battalions]

a dark standing nervousness, the wind shakes grass by the feet I am

[new-battalions]

Today to be Nowhere i would

agreeing, a car parks on my foot

where are you going? A friend claims the afternoon with dance

[elvedon]

— Ana Carrizo, "Ochre"

[tinysupergiant]

The darkest of lights

Always  but a click from the reality of night.

Always  a hand in the dark to catch  your breath and  drowse you with warmth.

Always a oneway tunnel running, without parallel, 

through many lightyears of  blindsight — 

in which the wall is a canvas, upon which the memory is 

of art and  each instant,

an empty page. Always a page 

draws the ink out from the darkest of lights

[edenmuses]

The city

little lego buildings march along the skyline

holding lifeless souls within them

placid play-dough men

i watch their eyes-

they can't see mine-

begging for a lustrous sky

planted in fields of concrete

aching for plains of sweeping trees

asleep to their needs and forever ill at ease

[maldarchive]

adept at the business of catastrophe / if you were to leave, i say, i imagine, if you were to leave

nothing would change, the floors would stay tidy, the bookshelf would keep growing,

i myself would hardly be different, i'm hardened into myself now, stoned into spirit

whatever price there is to pay for this life i will pay it, i say, i imagine, it is what i have understood

to be my hand, all these colours both right and wrong, all my friends come and gone, all my heart

settled into the crook of your gentle arm, i could do without, if i must, i could, i imagine

[shesilk]

I’m digging in the dirt next to the red brick

building, where everything i’ve ever known

lives.

I wonder how far I can dig, to take myself

away. Something like that could only

ever happen to me. Falling down a hole

I dug in the middle of the yard.

There’s too much sun, too much smoke,

too many bullets. I could dig until I

couldn’t hear the birds anymore.

I could throw the dirt over my shoulder,

and onto that red brick. And I would

never be seen above ground again.

I could open up and scream into

the worms and fossils, until all

of everything in me crackled

like fire.

And then out the other side my

head would appear, covered in

roots, free.

— down & out

04.25.22

[candiedspit]

A letter to my brother for his 19th birthday

[perfectionisodd]

Neath your delicate pat on my shoulder, lies a smoldering vindictive azure- that later comes in different mixes of grey, coaxing chill embers of yesteryear to thaw out – aslosh with melting hopes from swarm of icebergs or burning vessels – ambivalence isn’t it? And so I slump, waiting for horizon to fill the gaps between raindrops with our old fading laughter. Pain of missing you is just intangible and real

[wetpoem]

writing aka my rotting brain coughs up a perfect blood-flecked molar tooth into the the palm of my hand and i put it in a little glass box

[moonjunesoon-deactivated2023022]

salt lake city

and when the dark grooms you, it gives you somewhere to sleep that isn’t a motel 6. get obnoxiously close. like a drunk wading deep in the convenience of remorse. fold yourself in. like flour and yolk to batter. then sit next to me. we’ll watch some porn. imagine vermin spying on us from the walls. sink back further into this leather couch. give spineless a brand new meaning. finish on my enthusiastic tongue in time for the ice maker’s yawn of applause. laugh when i crack a joke. about that college buddy of yours. about how pretend polite we are. how you never once take your eyes off the road. sucks we don’t have a whole lot to talk about anymore. i miss the silver lining in your guts, where’d it go?

[phoenixculpa]

call yourself a teddy

bear, miss south haven,

hoodie stained mustard

by some blood, thanks for

noticing one’s hypnosis,

less lonely dazes have

been said to mindful

twists, closing sunrise,

couldn’t contain a

one hour difference,

act surprised one is

alive, shoot the crap,

throw out an old

corn dog, can’t feed

dead rats, like some

prank to lined faces,

slam the lid to a gasp,

singe the nostrils, musk,

oceanic with coconut, blends

with his sweat, the charm

of a callous woman

undoes cuffs, ironclad