original poem : i can still see your wings
2nd attempt at contrapuntal poetry, this took way longer than i expected (;ļ¹;)
icarus icarus icarus
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Xuebing Du
Mike Driver
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@starsbecoming
original poem : i can still see your wings
2nd attempt at contrapuntal poetry, this took way longer than i expected (;ļ¹;)
icarus icarus icarus
ādaughters becoming, moonbecoming
not really poetry but just something i wrote Ā”
i watch from afar
as your mouth
opens
closes
swallows a moon-shaped star
i imagine it floating breathlessly
in your body
and i realize i am an animal
just as hungry as
you.
tell me
which dreads you more
who we couldāve been or
who we cannot help to be?
āSadness becoming, moonbecoming
a poem i wrote !!
also sorry for not posting iām in a writerās block again :\
your grief feels welcome because itās lived as your love all these years
you're a good poet :3
what's your favourite poem you've written?
hihi and thanks for the question @thelingering ! i love all my poems but i feel like over time my style has changed a bunch and definitely will keep changing but
some of my favorites right now are: deer in the headlights and anger becoming (and several others as soon as i find the energy to finish themš£)
i know the earth is shared but every once in a while i take a little piece for myself
when you kissed me
for the first time
i think i mightāve saw God
mightāve even believed in him
just a little.
how can i wish to be eternal
when some days
i donāt even want
to be alive long enough
for the summer grapes
to sour
i cling desperately
to preserve
everything i have now
wrapping it in layers of
saran wrap
like my mother taught me
with yesterdayās leftovers
and tomorrowās ripe avocados
but how can i stop the death
of something that is
ready to let go
i grasp at fate
in the dark
like a child
again.
āanger becoming, moonbecoming
a lengthy poem i wrote (on a diff blog for longer/stylistic writing) !!
deer in the headlights
i love what hurts me
i canāt help it
it happens in nature too
deers cross roads
knowing the metal
will not be comforting
hoping the crash
will feel like a momentary hug
a touch
of something more
than death.
how do i tell my past i donāt want to live with her anymore
i want to cry into your hands but i also hope the tears seep through because this is only my sadness to hold
promise rings
rings on fingers
a promise to be better for the past the present
the future a budding youth the spring hums under
my skin a window to what will become of us
when you found me in the darkness
we ran
hand in hand,
i thought it was a miracle
that we were escaping together
but you later told me
out of breath
and laughing
that it was your home
we had run from.
the need
boredom gnawing at my brain
hunger a bruise with brown eyes
a cavity in the air
the need
not to fill but to consume
it all.
i never thought this gentleness you taught me could be used for myself