the indefinitely definable.

this sideblog seeks to define the poet, the artist, the creator, and the prophet as you see fit. submissions accepted, wanted, encouraged. show the world what and why the poet takes their many faced forms. main blog: mythae.

[thepoetas]

Collected by Poets

There it was. A singular perseverance which they forgot existed. In bloom, it seemed infinite. Then something, all at once, differed. They lived.

[thepoetas]

The tragedy of being a writer is having words spill from your body about everyone and everything like blood pouring from an open wound but secretly wishing that even just once someone would write about you

Lauren Jessica

[wind-some-light]

Flow

I have a tool so rudely filled With power to limn whate’er I will Inside out, wonders impart Bright magic hid in liquid dark It’s kept in quarters long and lank But once released upon a blank Transformed, turned into life and glory, Heartache, courage, joy, in stories It seeps through galactic pores Runs into the blood of stars Flows out as skylight and white fire Burnt metaphorical desire Then turn the page, there dripped new words Brewed remnants of a witches curse Or mayhap a potion meant to heal, A spoonful of a home cooked meal

But again, black waters rushed and quivered Became an icy rushing river And trekked thro’ hills and lands wide open Then dove into an open ocean There it swirled about the blue ‘Fore falling as tear cried true Gently from a lover’s eye For a silent, sincere goodbye And when the spell had full elapsed The wondrous tool was then recapped Magic stopped up inside once more Till another flood of fantasy pour n.a.

[wind-some-light]

Gardening

If only I could plant seconds like seed I’d grow all the hours I’d ever need That should a day short my soul decry I’ll procure it from my eternal supply

I, my own time’s gardener revealed To work in chronologically defiant field Coffer a crop, harvest illegal Stealing advantage, timely and frugal

n.a.

[thepoetas]

Art and poems

Drag your brushes, your pens and pencils Drag them slow across the page The canvas Some take control of emotions dragging blades on skin instead, to take the feelings out. We visualize, and hear our hearts to heal We work because we hurt. We are not broken, we are artists Heartfelt and strong for our art will live on.

-J.C.

[selfapologies-blog]

YOU & ME. this 6-poem collection takes you through the love story of two women. READ & DOWNLOAD HERE

I really hope you guys like this chapbook! This is the first part of the chapbooks I said I would make on this post. The second part will be available for purchase very soon! Please like/reblog this to get the word out! Thank you so much for your support!

there is so much of everything on the palm of my hand, and there is too little palm of my hand for everything

[thepoetas]

Sofa on the Moon.

The sofa on the Moon does not have any sand on it but it does have cheese from the view of Earth. 

[thepoetas]

i’ve never read my poems out loud. it’s too personal. it’s too intimate in a way i don’t understand. there’s something about saying my words that parallels offering my self on my tongue. i think i’m scared. what if they’re not mine.

efb | it’s like staring into a mirror and saying my own name

[thepoetas]

the poet as fleshly hyperbaton, a turning of the inside out. my many dendrites become stars and rivers, the spread of my own body craggy and volcanic. i am pointing to me and saying look! see what i have made for you, you have made of me, what we have done together. see me in the star’s light or rippling at the river’s edge. watch how my body tugs outward to accept yours in coital confidence, my genitals wild and unguarded, free from the till and yet ready to fertilize. 

i am so many things. i am a polite animal. i am poetas. 

[selfapologies-blog]

YOU & ME. this 6-poem collection takes you through the love story of two women. READ & DOWNLOAD HERE

I really hope you guys like this chapbook! This is the first part of the chapbooks I said I would make on this post. The second part will be available for purchase very soon! Please like/reblog this to get the word out! Thank you so much for your support!

there is so much of everything on the palm of my hand, and there is too little palm of my hand for everything

[thepoetas]

the poet as the gatekeeper of the universe.

[thepoetas]

the poet as primeval and cyclic, anachronistic and ancient.