#about poets

[unforgiven-noctem]

"What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anquish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass though them, it sounds like lovely music."

Taken from page one line one of Either/Or

By

Søren Kierkegaard

(1843)

[jahaliel]

the poet’s heart

for @the-ships-to-rule-them-all whose poetry is amazing and lovely and inspiring (also it’s found here). hope you feel better <3

the poet’s heart (Endure)

I am the heart that beats in the breast of every poet and poetess I am the soul of artists, I have sung the spectrum from love to death I am the mind shattered and broken, helped by encouraging words I am the family made by choice, that loves wholeheartedly over the seas And I will endure I will last forever I will endure I am ceasing never And I am more than the words that I write - more than the sorrow I live I am enough; a thousand stars cannot outshine me, neither can the sun I am alone - I am never alone, a mass of contradictions whose pen trembles I am part of a family made by choice, whose love spans oceans We write We sing We make art We endure And our voices Linger on after

[mayakovsky-jung]

At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

Plato

[hotangrybruises]

dulce et decorum est

ninety nine years ago, the war poets fought the propaganda and indoctrination that took them to war (and took many of their lives); they wrote anti-war poems to tell us how fucked our worship of war was. we've learned nothing at all.

[carrionfields]

What you mean is you hate urban, but darling I'm classic. I don't do what you're looking for all scared and confused. I'm beyond that, my truths aren't so fussy and shallow.

[a-curious-bird]

What they don't tell you about being a poet

Grownups don’t often tell little girls and little boys not to be poet dreamers or artists. They place upon those children who are bent that way amiable adjectives such as gifted, unique, fascinating, so on.

And when those little girls and little boys grow up to become older versions of themselves, those same family members whose mouths once poured of such enchantments, now roll their eyes every time that once-upon-a-time child, still breathes and aches in metaphor.