The Poetry Book

I do not take credit for the content of this blog unless otherwise stated.

[harperking3-writerpoet-blog]

Fake smile

If, when I look at you my smile seems too bright

plastic

Look closer

There is a shadow in my soul

Hiding

The, ‘I’m fine,’

A Lie

Don’t believe

Don’t walk on by

Stay a while

Invite me out for tea

Be patient.

Pain has many words but they are slippery

Hard to handle

Impossible

To breathe

out their meaning to a listening ear

So

Just

Be

Comfort in your presence

A healing gift

Knowing there’s

A branch in the sand that sucks

down

down

down.

Be a spark in the raging storm

Arms encircle the broken pieces

Be glue.

I am the weight of worlds

And many moons

Juggling, balancing on the tip of a pin.

Tumbling

Catching

Lifting up

Hiding

Behind a face of plastic

A fake smile

Is flesh and blood

Just like you.

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

Pablo Neruda, from “Morning, ‘XI’”, The Poetry of Pablo Neruda (via stoicremains)

[fransileana]

[buttonpoetry]

The role of college will be played by me sleeping, also the role of work will be played by me sleeping.

Ben Wenzl, “Mental Illness: The Musical!”

Congratulations to Ben on topping 100,000 views on this fantastic poem.

(via buttonpoetry)

[thequotejournals]

i fell apart many times. so. what does that say about me besides i live through wars.

Nayyirah Waheed (via wordsnquotes)

[sarahmariepardy-deactivated2018]

Falling asleep’s great because dreams are like TV for sleeping people

Haiku #52: Dreaming, © 2017 Sarah Marie Pardy Oh so eloquent, as always, Sarah :p (via sarahmariepardy)

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

Deserted like the wharves at dawn. It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one! Cold flower heads are raining over my heart. Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

Pablo Neruda, from “The Song of Despair” The Poetry of Pablo Neruda (via stoicremains)

[buttonpoetry]

Cameron Awkward-Rich - “A Prude’s Manifesto” – Check out more brilliance from Cameron in his book, Transit.

[aliensfromhell]

[tiffanyaliyah]

I am sure

That everyone I have ever been forced to let go of Has scars trailing down their spines Guilty marks leftover from my clenched fingers and digging nails I am not fond of moving on Or letting love go And it takes me a while to realize how painful a grip I hold on to people when it’s time to set them free It isn’t until I look at my hands Fingers torn and bloody That I realize My fear of being alone Has ruined me.

[wildestpetal-blog-deactivated20]

[amargedom]

“Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside — remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.”

Charles Bukowski (via amargedom)

[buttonpoetry]

From an early age we learned that opposites attract: negative/positive, hot/cold, boy/boy…

Ben Wenzl - “From an Early Age” (Great Plains)

Performing at the 2016 Great Plains Poetry Pile-Up in Lincoln, NE. Help bring Button to you.

(via buttonpoetry)

[anancientheart]

[anancientheart]

Soft Human by Emery Allen

[aseaofquotes]

Charles Bukowski, “Nobody But You”

[michellekpoems]

I treat myself like I would my daughter. I brush her hair, wash her laundry, tuck her in goodnight. Most importantly, I feed her. I do not punish her. I do not berate her, leave tears staining her face. I do not leave her alone. I know she deserves more. I know I deserve more.

Michelle K., I Know I Deserve More. (via sadlittlewords)

[prettierthoughts]

Without any words He used to wash my hair in the shower And kiss my forehead in the morning So gentle, he was A bull who knew enough To tip toe in a china shop.

The bull - b.mirante (via prettierthoughts)