#themed poetry

[boysaints]

hey hi hello!! just here to say that my poem Motel Bathroom Soliloquy is now LIVE in perhappened mag’s “road trip” issue! i’m pretty proud of this poem and absolutely STUNNED by the quality of work by the rest of the contributors, so go read it!!!! okay bye xx

[aurora1040]

Hey :) Could you maybe do a poem about dealing with writer's block? If you have slots open I'd love to see it

Hi! Yes, I do happen to have slots open and available. Writers block is such a common frustrating thing. I would love to write something for the fellow writers out there 😁

Desire is there, a pen is poised only to draw a blank.

Staring at a plain white screen, watching the cursor slowly blink.

Thoughts are swirling, chasing, grasping for but finding nothing.

Its a vague scent, faint sense of warm words upon your skin.

There is no ground, no bouy or raft to withold you from falling down.

Its empty, its gnawing and clawing, burning with each painful breath until finally you can take no more.

Start kicking and flailing, with every stroke, it still counts, every line and every sound

Pushing through the sea of doubt, discovering its not what you find, but what you make

And when you learn to take the life-line you have made, pull yourself up and out.

Find that ledge youve written in and create the image of inner peace.

And as the the kind ink falls upon your skin, take a deep breath: Now you can begin.

-Sponsored by @always-on-tatooine

[more of my poems here]

[beholden-beheld]

Pink

Your face is so close to mine that I can see the pores on your skin, the veins in your eyes, soft in the lamplight. I feel a flower blooming inside me, shedding its petals across my love-stained cheeks, on your floor and the curves of your sleeping face. What makes it all not quite crimson, not quite ablaze, is that I remember how warm I was, and you don’t remember this at all. Hot blood diluted with cold water, cold air as I pulled the blankets closer. 

-

Even now, I view you through rose-tinted glasses, though my flower dulled long before you woke up.

[tothelongnights]

flower girl

[a-car-called-home]

Poetry As Thought: Fields of Ice

(Image by Orikon)

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fields of ice

i turn to stars   that blossom above    empty fields of ice and hope   for a bit    of that glow     to lead me back       to where grace     can still be found    in an everyday moment

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