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#Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
havingapoemwithyou · 6 months
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not as smart as i think i am by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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llovelymoonn · 2 years
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am i a horrible person?
maria flook strangers: many perfect examples \\ cristin o'keefe aptowicz july \\ maria flook strangers: many perfect examples \\ ugochukwu damian okpara my mother makes memories crawl on my skin \\ maria flook strangers: many perfect examples \\ melissa albert
kofi
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tankbredgrunt · 1 year
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Not Doing Something Wrong Isn't the Same as Doing Something Right - Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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boricuacherry-blog · 2 years
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July, Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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starminesister · 8 months
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Started reading last night (via audiobook): Dr. Mutter's Marvels: A True Tale of Intrigue and Innovation at the Dawn of Modern Medicine by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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poem-today · 9 months
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A poem by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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July
The figs we ate wrapped in bacon. The gelato we consumed greedily: coconut milk, clove, fresh pear. How we’d dump hot espresso on it just to watch it melt, licking our spoons clean. The potatoes fried in duck fat, the salt we’d suck off our fingers, the eggs we’d watch get beaten ’til they were a dizzying bright yellow, how their edges crisped in the pan. The pink salt blossom of prosciutto we pulled apart with our hands, melted on our eager tongues. The green herbs with goat cheese, the aged brie paired with a small pot of strawberry jam, the final sour cherry we kept politely pushing onto each other’s plate, saying, No, you. But it’s so good. No, it’s yours. How I finally put an end to it, plucked it from the plate, and stuck it in my mouth. How good it tasted: so sweet and so tart. How good it felt: to want something and pretend you don’t, and to get it anyway.
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Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
More poems by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz are available through her website.
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6peaches · 2 years
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Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz - July
The figs we ate wrapped in bacon. The gelato we consumed greedily: coconut milk, clove, fresh pear. How we’d dump hot espresso on it just to watch it melt, licking our spoons clean. The potatoes fried in duck fat, the salt we’d suck off our fingers, the eggs we’d watch get beaten ’til they were a dizzying bright yellow, how their edges crisped in the pan. The pink salt blossom of prosciutto we pulled apart with our hands, melted on our eager tongues. The green herbs with goat cheese, the aged brie paired with a small pot of strawberry jam, the final sour cherry we kept politely pushing onto each other’s plate, saying, No, you. But it’s so good. No, it’s yours. How I finally put an end to it, plucked it from the plate, and stuck it in my mouth. How good it tasted: so sweet and so tart. How good it felt: to want something and pretend you don’t, and to get it anyway.
- July by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz
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miantonella · 2 years
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You probably don’t remember this discussion. Nor should you have, really, since it is no the role of the crush to remember. The crush simply exists. It is the role of the crushed to record. 
Excerpt From: "Dear Future Boyfriend" by Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
Read this book on Scribd: https://www.scribd.com/book/257695077
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awkward-sultana · 2 years
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Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz / Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast / Florence and the Machine, South London Foreve / Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath / Insta: @sophsoph_19 / Hal Borland / Kim Addonizio, Onset / Mary Shelley, Frankenstein / Pablo Neruda / Rainer Maria Rilke / Rainer Maria Rilke, The First Elegy, The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Stephen Mitchell) / Flickr: @LaneyButler / Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or A Fragment of Life / Tumblr: @inkskinned / Vladimir Nabokov in a letter to his wife Vera / Insta: @johntanner / Algernon Charles Swinburne / Insta: @ariellevey / Gustav Mahler / Unknown / Virginia Woolf, Night and Day / Unknown
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sincerelymarner · 3 months
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ISN’T EVERY POEM AN UNFINISHED LOVE POEM?
from how to love the empty air, cristin o'keefe aptowicz
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taiturner · 1 year
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[...] In my defense, how when we just sat listening to each other breathe, he said, “This is enough.”  —  (Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz)
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havingapoemwithyou · 1 year
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not doing something wrong isn’t the same as doing something right by cristin o'keefe aptowicz
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girlfictions · 11 months
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— Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz, from “How to Love the Empty Air”
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angelosearch · 1 month
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Who are your favorite poets? :)
AHHHHHH omg I haven't been able to talk about poetry in SO long.
First, the classics. I am not huge on William Shakespeare's plays, but I do like his poetry. Oscar Wilde is just an icon. I like a lot of poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley and Emily Dickinson. I HAVE to mention Edgar Allen Poe because he's from my state but honestly, I like his overall ideas over his execution most of the time. Joyce Kilmer wrote one of my favorite poems of all time, "Trees."
Moving closer to the present day, there's Allen Ginsberg. Howl changed how I understood poetry as a whole. Shel Silverstein taught me what poetry was in the first place. I also enjoy Edward Albee and Joyce Carol Oates.
Getting into poets who are writing right now, Maggie Nelson wrote this collection of poems called Bluets that I adore. I also got to take a seminar with her through my college. Finally, I saw Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz give a reading and she was just... mezmorizing. Honestly, poetry is meant to be performed, which is why I haven't read much since college. But if someone invites me to a poetry reading, I am so there.
My favorite collection of poems is Unleashed: Poems by Writers' Dogs. It is just what it sounds like and yes it made me sob uncontrollably by the end.
Curious to know if you or any of my other mutuals have thoughts about poetry!
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april-is · 1 year
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April 3, 2023: Picture This, Jiordan Castle
Picture This Jiordan Castle
I feel bad for the inventor of Comic Sans. I, too, have made mistakes. Like opening the bathroom door in a bar to a stranger rag-dolled on the toilet, her face closed for the night. I, too, wanted the impossible—to carve a hole in the floor, retreat into lost time. Earn someone’s forgiveness, maybe even my own. But, instead, I accidentally invented panic, then futility. I wanted to forget what I had seen, who I had been, so I turned us both into flowers. I invented bees and a yellow bird to watch over us, but it wasn’t enough. Others had already invented doom and repetition. I cut myself a break, fashioned a little more time—enough to learn which mistakes were mine to make.
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Today in...
2022: Alba, Madeleine Cravens 2021: July, Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz 2020: Poem Beginning With A Retweet, Maggie Smith 2019: Waiting for Happiness, Nomi Stone 2018: United, Naomi Shihab Nye 2017: If You Are Over Staying Woke, Morgan Parker 2016: High School Senior, Sharon Olds 2015: Dog in Bed, Joyce Sidman 2014: Persephone Writes to Her Mother, Tara Mae Mulroy 2013: Hook, James Wright 2012: How to Build an Owl, Kathleen Lynch 2011: Expecting, Kevin Young 2010: The Choir, Luke Kennard 2009: I Come Home Wanting To Touch Everyone, Stephen Dunn 2008: Visible World, Richard Siken 2007: Anywhere Else, Maggie Dietz 2006: After Work, Richard Jones 2005: The Sheep-Child, James Dickey
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odditycollector · 1 year
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My Mother Wants to Know if I'm Dead
ARE YOU DEAD? is the subject line of her email. The text outlines the numerous ways she thinks I could have died: slain by an axe-murderer, lifeless on the side of a highway, choked to death by smoke since I'm a city girl and likely didn't realize you needed to open the chimney flue before making a fire (and, if I do happen to be alive, here's a link to a YouTube video on fireplace safety that I should watch). Mom muses about the point of writing this email. If I am already dead, which is what she suspects, I wouldn't be able to read it. And if I'm alive, what kind of daughter am I not to write her own mother to let her know that I've arrived at my fancy residency, safe and sound, and then to immediately send pictures of everything, like I promised her! If this was a crime show, she posits, the detective might accuse her of sending this email as a cover up for murder. How could she be the murderer, if she wrote an email to her daughter asking if she was murdered? her defense lawyers would argue at the trial. In fact, now that she thinks of it, this email is the perfect alibi for murdering me. And that is something I should definitely keep in mind, if I don't write her back as soon as I have a free goddamn second to spare.
- Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz, "My Mother Wants to Know if I'm Dead", how to love the empty air
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