#poetryporal

[chuckakot]

“Our hearts are secretly dying, fainting, bleeding,”

— Chuck Akot, from The Color of Charcoal and Other Essays, HEARTS

[sunsets-and-cigars]

his smile feels like a warm summer day

in the midst of a cold winter season

it will always make flowers grow

in the graveyard of my buried hopes

[chuckakot]

“I want to strip open the night with you, and lean on the grass.”

— Chuck Akot

[chuckakot]

The dreams in those dreams are not sleeping, but dreaming of its own way out– hypervigilant, fluorescent in the light.

Chuck Akot, from Collected Poems, FLUORESCENT

[chuckakot]

Only for some time, you will be alone with yourself; it is where the pursuit of understanding yourself regains pure solitude – in this very instance, you are not deprived of love, nor of value and importance, but you are transforming yourself to the truth of your existence; you will find the universe inside you, there, you are not only a debris, but ultimately, a part of something greater.

Chuck Akot, s o l i t u d e

[chuckakot]

If you do not belong to me, how will I ever put you into a song, or line from a verse of poetry; if the same night is dressed in black sands, how I will I ever know where the moon set and sleep; I wonder if anyone has loved before us or does it occur that you love truly before me; without stopping, I ask my heart but I hear no answers.

Chuck Akot, je demande mon coeur

[sunsets-and-cigars]

Oh hello tumblr, it has been awhile.

Lately, I have been asked about when do I plan to enter a relationship. They ask me this question like it’s the equivalent of a life jacket needed to be worn just before a boat ride, like my life solely depends on it.

And then I just respond to them with a mix of annoyance and a smirk, “Well I guess I haven’t met him yet.” But deep inside, I have lots of things I wish to tell them, I have a list of reasons why no man can ever make my mundane heart beat a little bit faster than the usual. 

It’s because no one ever dared to take a glimpse of my messy soul. I never found someone who can be both my Saturday night and Sunday morning. I haven’t met a soul who hates small talks and nonsensical chats about the weather. I don’t even have someone who has the same odd music taste with mine. But the truth is I will never get weary of waiting for that someone who will decipher how complicated and sweet I can get.

Oh hell, I don’t even care waiting for a lifetime than to settle with someone who can’t even exchange deep conversations with me. God knows how lonely I can get with no one to watch the cheesy indie romcoms with and no one to bring me a cup of coffee in the mornings. But I would rather wait than to settle with a guy who don’t even care about reading novels and writing poetic musings. I don’t want someone who can’t describe me in lovely metaphors. I pity those who marry a guy who has nothing to offer but empty words and manipulative behaviors. I can’t even imagine myself marrying a guy who can’t even bring me flowers in my doorsteps and leave love notes on my table. But it won’t even discourage me because I can be my own hella sunshine.

So I guess I will be my own home for now.