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poetrybyonur · 6 months

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When many people don’t even bother to read you when they pick you up, but only wish to look at your pretty pictures, we value the ones who choose to read us from cover to cover, relishing each paragraph and page, folding the corners of their favourite pages of us, not wanting to put us down. I cherish the ones who chose me to be their favourite book.

An older spoken word I redid. Please click on image to hear me speak.

Background music by Two Lanes.

#poets on tumblr #love quotes #love poetry #romantic poetry #love poem #romantic writer #onurtaskiran poetry #poets and writers #gentleman poet #love #poetrybyonur #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #spoken word #spoken word poetry #book lover #favourite book #british male poet #cockney

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mad-girlslove-song · 5 months

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"I have known that I have wanted to be an incredible mother for as long as I have feared being a regrettable daughter."

Blythe Baird

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megleepoetry · 1 year

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#10 word story #poets corner #spilledink #spilled thoughts #poets on tumblr #poetry #poetscommunity #writers of tumblr #10wordstories #writers #writers community #writerscorner #writers corner #spoken word poetry #spokenwords #poets of tumblr #spilled words #spilled ink #spoken thoughts

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poetdreamerfool · 3 months

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the hill I'll die on

I'm running up the hill Sysiphus rolled his boulder Trying to get to the top So I can snatch beauty Out the eye of the beholder while I was running the world jumped out of my palms and landed squarely on my shoulders--

Atlas wasn't playing this shit is heavy but all the tragedy and triumph I faced got me ready I just gotta hold it steady one foot in front of the other a wise man said don't have it covered have it smothered only stop to help a sister or a brother

I love you too I just hate me still I wont let death take me until I break free and find peace

maybe its up there next to the beholder maybe up there the world is a little colder thats why I approach this climb like I'm a soldier.

march - march - we in the garden of Eden and stopping is the apple don't bite. don't ever bite.

#spilled ink #poetry #alt lit #prose #creative writing #poets on tumblr #writerscreed #original poetry #freestyle #slam poetry #spoken word poetry

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i-am-just-a-girli · 7 months

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Their Second Choice

I hate being the second choice

I always am

I'm kind of pretty

But I'm not that kind of pretty

The one that boys look at photos of

I'm not a "look at her photos" Kind of girl

Not to boys

I'm just another girl they think is kind of cute

I'm just their second choice

And it just feels bad

Because,

This idea that he could never like me the most of any girl

I will never be his "most"

...

By:- @raeganspoetry on Instagram

#poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #poem #poetrycommunity #writing #spoken word #spoken word poetry #spoken poetry #second choice #pretty #insecure #Instagram poetry #raeganspoetry #someone in the comment box of the reel wrote #you're the first choice to the right person #and that was so cute & true 💕

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therealmackenson10 · 8 hours

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If you have time please check out my latest single.

Mr. Mack- Save My Soul

Just had a homie pass away. Why do they love us more when we’re laid in the grave? People can change, cuz I’ve changed. To go through what I went through I couldn’t remain the same.

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paperpersephone · 13 days

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✍️ I'm proud to say that I don't miss you anymore.

#Mine #Photography #Poetry #Poem #Spoken Word #Spoken Word Poetry #Aesthetic #Aesthetics #Vintage #Vintage Photography #Handwriting #Writing #Typography #Creative Writing

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mareenavee · 3 months

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Amaranthine

For Indoril Jinumon, for January's Prompt:

“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

The Nerevarine answers Vivec's musings in Metempsychosis.

Amaranthine

I have had the misfortune of knowing you – the god whose power was borrowed from the Heart of this world. Half-golden light, half-darkness – all blight, awash with empty words which so few will ever understand. I asked for peace. You gave me lies. No matter how hard I tried, I could not escape my fate. You say you have seen a tear in the tapestry, the blank space which became my place in lore and legacy. You’ve killed for less. I’ve killed for more. The blood on my hands will not wash clean – not after all I have done. Not after all I have been. Or will be.

My illusion of freedom was sundered the second I set foot in Seyda Neen. I could not know it then, not as time bent and warped around me. Sunset staining the far horizon red, all that was left was to move forward. Through dust and uncertainty, I persisted. And still do. And will. Because I must – or else, what then? Yet you, in your great wisdom, and with great force, insisted I turn back – as if destiny was so simple to twist out of shape, or cut away with blades unseen.

You’d tried that once – ages ago, while ash and magma flowed. The Heart. The argument. The spear that pierced, cracking spine and sternum. Things I should not remember. Yet, in dreams – if they are to be trusted – I do. Though my skin no longer bears its scars, the mark of betrayal remains – a stain on my soul, reborn into new vessel time and time again. I did not want to believe, until I saw the grief in your eyes. You seek forgiveness. I offer only that which you deserve. Sorrow, the haunting of a hollow promise – shattered, shapeless – and the memory of murder most foul. -> Read the rest on AO3

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albertxylin · 14 days

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Book Closing

I think the only evidence needed to prove that addiction is not a substance issue Is the frequency with which I open and close facebook. I tell myself I have had enough, That I have other things to do, And a minute later, After my brain has processed a moment of boredom I find my fingers opening it up again, To see more of the same slowly-converging slop designed to sedate me and keep me scrolling.

I wonder how long it will take to unlearn that muscle memory, To train myself to do anything else in moments of quiet, To appreciate the things that actually matter. Why do I waste my time on things that don't?

#2637 #the “open facebook when bored” muscle memory is strooooong #writing #original poem #poetry #spoken word #poem #spoken word poetry #daily poem #poems

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keepscrollinghun · 7 months

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we teach live, Sir - Rafeef Ziadah

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre.

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits.

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits filled enough with statistics to counter measured response.

And I perfected my English and I learned my UN resolutions.

But still, he asked me, Ms. Ziadah, don’t you think that everything would be resolved if you would just stop teaching so much hatred to your children?

Pause.

I look inside of me for strength to be patient but patience is not at the tip of my tongue as the bombs drop over Gaza.

Patience has just escaped me.

Pause. Smile.

We teach life, Sir.

Rafeef, remember to smile.

Pause.

We teach life, Sir.

We Palestinians teach life after they have occupied the last sky.

We teach life after they have built their settlements and apartheid walls, after the last skies.

We teach life, Sir.

But today, my body was a TV’d massacre made to fit into sound-bites and word limits.

And just give us a story, a human story.

You see, this is not political.

We just want to tell people about you and your people so give us a human story.

Don’t mention that word “apartheid” and “occupation”.

This is not political.

You have to help me as a journalist to help you tell your story which is not a political story.

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre.

How about you give us a story of a woman in Gaza who needs medication?

How about you?

Do you have enough bone-broken limbs to cover the sun?

Hand me over your dead and give me the list of their names in one thousand two hundred word limits.

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits and move those that are desensitized to terrorist blood.

But they felt sorry.

They felt sorry for the cattle over Gaza.

So, I give them UN resolutions and statistics and we condemn and we deplore and we reject.

And these are not two equal sides: occupier and occupied.

And a hundred dead, two hundred dead, and a thousand dead.

And between that, war crime and massacre, I vent out words and smile “not exotic”, “not terrorist”.

And I recount, I recount a hundred dead, a thousand dead.

Is anyone out there?

Will anyone listen?

I wish I could wail over their bodies.

I wish I could just run barefoot in every refugee camp and hold every child, cover their ears so they wouldn’t have to hear the sound of bombing for the rest of their life the way I do.

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre

And let me just tell you, there’s nothing your UN resolutions have ever done about this.

And no sound-bite, no sound-bite I come up with, no matter how good my English gets, no sound-bite, no sound-bite, no sound-bite, no sound-bite will bring them back to life.

No sound-bite will fix this.

We teach life, Sir.

We Palestinians wake up every morning to teach the rest of the world life, Sir.

#from the river to the sea #palestine #poem #spoken word poetry

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poetrybyonur · 11 months

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Effleurage: a delicate stroking motion in massage. The word is taken from the French word “effleurer,” meaning to stroke as one would a flower. That is how I would touch you, my love, my beautiful flower.

A spoken word from a couple years back that I’ve redone. Click on poem to hear my Londoner voice.

Background music by Blank & Jones.

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mad-girlslove-song · 8 months

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"What if, when I finally figure out who I am, I can't stand her? Harder to imagine, what if I loved her?"

- Blythe Baird

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megleepoetry · 1 year

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My heart is a hotel, giving shelter to those just stopping by, and I have never really minded. But I no longer have a room available for you.

-I hang the closed sign up when I see you coming now.

#10 word story #poets corner #spilledink #spilled thoughts #poets on tumblr #poetry #poetscommunity #writers of tumblr #10wordstories #writers #spoken word poetry #writerscorner #writerscommunity #lost love

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nashira · 10 months

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seen a tiktok that said "I grew 25 years older but so did my parents" please do not attempt to contact me I am beside myself grieving

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shy-girl04 · 2 months

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youtube

"What is love?", you ask

My head spins, recallin' every song

Story, words, and glorious things I ever heard

Every cliché rings in my ears

Like a bell announcin' the birth of a new day

Or the death of yesterday

Depends on how you hear it

I haven't a clue

So I ask love, "What are you?"

Love replies

Can't you feel me? I'm here

I'm the one holdin' your hand, remindin' you not to forget me

I'm the warm feelin' in your belly when you don't know why

I'm the ache to the core when one

Someone sways to the other side of a vibe

I'm the tingle on your skin when it's

Touched by the tip of a thrill you can rely on

The knowing, when your eyes meet eyes that recognize yours

And hold you, loose enough to move freely

But tight enough to never let you fall

I'm the breath you take in and let all the way out to the end

When you're held and your shoulders drop into arms

You flop that feel like a blanket of truth

And wrap you and sooth you

To the moon you thought was in the sky

I'm the backbone that holds it all together

The vertebrae stacked on top of each other

When it's all gone pear shaped and wrong

I'm the bitin' on your lip keepin' it zipped

Swallowin' words that could wound and rip apart

I'm choosin' kindness over bein' right

I'm the fight in you when you don't know how

The life in you when it's gone right out

I'm life when I'm near, hope without fear

I'm nothin' fancy in a world drippin' in gold

But a beautiful jewel never bought, never sold

And when you open your heart and let me in alone

You'll know who I am, because I feel like home

Imelda May

#lyrics #poetry #words #love #imelda may #spoken word poetry #music #Youtube #Spotify

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iz-nomewrites · 1 month

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“You were like the virgin Mary, your beauty reaches above the heavens”

“I worship your image, I kneel down before your altar and my life hangs onto every word you say.”

“I am your most devoted follower, your humble servant. By your hand, by your command, and by your mercy I am eternally, faithfully yours.”

—by me, directly translated from mother tongue

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #ao3 writer #writer #writing practice #writing stuff #poem #poetry #spoken word #spoken word poetry #my thoughts #random

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