#poetscorner

[beforeyearning]

[whateverwhimsy]

In Bouts

Shy-bitten, the moments of worry between words and meaning, between understanding and the doubt - hold on, miss magnificent, give us a minute, take us out of this clash of wills, we've re-designed out of nowhere out of the giant heaps of love we share, there's this lingering misuse of trust shuffling under this evocative dust of truth, we baffle ourselves in the overreach.

[musingsatmidnights]

mourning

3:29 in the morning—

mourning all the lives i could have lived, all the paths i could have taken,

if only i were more courageous, if i were just a little braver.

[aknockathedooor]

a poem by me // luka. ft. my photography.

there should be no closer relationship than mother and daughter, she once rested in your womb.

she promises you will never see her again.

[circlepoems]

Heart-Speckled Starling

Wordless awareness, made up engagement. A story more compelling than truth, ever-knowing. We speak in symbols and ciphers, love-making an equation. Receive half of me, then ask yourself how you felt empty. A small bird, a kind word, morning song, explanation or apology. Day and night hang briefly in equilibrium. I am freckled in former fondnesses.

[blue-jolly-rancher-lvr]

the intimacy of being recognized by your perfume alone. the intimacy of holding someone’s hand while you both cross the street. the intimacy of knowing when your friends go to bed so you don’t wake them up with your messages. the intimacy of small smiles exchanged in the hallways. intimacy can be found in everything, because there’s always intimacy in being known.

[env0writes]

i. How could I brazenly claim The stars When even rainfall Like rivers Flows not to nor from me But through These feelings too Shall pass Like starlight turned to day

ii. These feelings are not mine to feel Not mine to hurt nor heal Yet like the rain that fell into my cup, my well Pass through me As the river does To sea So eyesight on starlight That I’ve no right To claim Who could be so brazen What claim could be made I hold no title nor no deed No flower, save a reed To whistle my whittled tune Chipped down and down, what loon-acy You see This emotion that doth stir The rivers, ponds, and birds No birds or bees No stories

NaNoWriMo Vol. 4, 11.22.24 “Can't Help Feeling"

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!

[jaggedjawjosh]

In her quiet strength, she found healing; every scar a testament that she's endured storms and has the power to bloom again.