#misunderstood poem
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#slam poetry#scream poetry#depressing quotes#spilled words#words#sadgirl#sad poetry#sad poem#sad life#misunderstood#not enough#goodbye
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i got a goose tattooed on the inside of my forearm today and it was a flash piece but it's my favorite tattoo already it means everything to me i could sob
#i love geese so much and so deeply i named my dog after them#goose is my black dragon dog and my loyal faithful companion and my entire world#i just love these birds#they are so misunderstood as aggressive and scary when really they just are sensitive to spatial pressure#and they need a wider diameter than humans are often willing to give#but they are so beautiful i love their long graceful necks and how i can recognize their sounds anywhere#and that no matter where i live i see their little v's in the sky#and of course wild geese by mary oliver is one of the first poems i fell in love with#my english teacher deborah read it aloud to us in high school and it made me want to go outside and to stay alive#and when my gf and i first started dating i knew i loved her for lots of reasons but one of them was that she also loved geese#she told me she had a shared folder with her family members titled “geese i've seen” that she would put her goose photos in#so her entire family could witness them with her#i remember when i was sick with anorexia a few weeks before i was hospitalized a v of canadian geese flew over me on my way into work#and these big fluffy snowflakes were falling down and i could hear them calling#and it made my eyes well up#and i hoped they would get somewhere warm enough for winter#whether or not people have respect for them is a wonderful metric for gauging somebody's character#at the grocery store i worked at when i was 18 the only coworker i grew close to had a similar affinity for geese#she had a necklace of one#a little silver glinting goose in flight :'')#personal
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#misunderstood#spilled thoughts#poem#poetry#life#lang leav#beautiful#current mood#taken for granted#thoughts#soul#today#letting it out#I need a song like this poem#paragraph
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finally finishing up Of That Colossal Wreck
the absolute torment nexus vibes of calling your project "the ozymandias project" lmao
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— @fiercethorns
“muted voices”
#fiercethorns#poetry#writing#my writing#spilled ink#literature#prose writing#poems and quotes#my prose#original writing#writers on tumblr#writers#writerblr#writer#misunderstood#sad thoughts#spilled words
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Wrote this once when I was feeling really misunderstood:
“I never felt comprehended in any away. In a room full of people, my vision becoming hazy. I sensed the weight of stares and my heart pounding in my ears. But I had to suck it up, I had to nod.
I told myself: ‘Look away, shut your eyes, swallow harshly and laugh along.’ They thought it was self-mockery, when it really just was silent resignation.”
#avoidant personality disorder#avpd#actually avoidant#anxious avoidant#avoidant attachment#poetry#self destruction#isolation#my poem#melacholy#autism#alone with my thoughts#misunderstood
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I’m an introvert. I’m not boring, I’m just shy. Just because I don’t announce them to the world, doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. Just because I’m quiet and listen doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say.
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napowrimo day 2 — transcription under the cut
what is a ghost?
a girl who sleepwalks in the fog of her mind
what is fog?
faintly heard bird calls floating down from a pine
what is elusive?
teardrops on a pillow, dried off by morning
what is longing?
one odd sock in a drawer (it never belonged there)
what is resilience?
the child who hid behind bushes and yet somehow grew up
what is a miracle?
my heart that stutters and still pumps blood
#warm up#the prompt was to do a q&a type poem in the style of paul celan#and make sure the aswers have strong imagery rather than be logical or realistic#apparently i partially misunderstood the prompt because i was supposed to make a poem out of JUST the answers but oh well i like how it is#i’ve also been on ‘songwriter brain’ lately so this ended up kinda sorta rhyming#belle writes#poets of tumblr#writeblr#poetblr#napowrimo#free verse#my poetry
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Literally being autistic and trans at the same time is why I “think I’m a cat” like. Being a cat is the best way for me to describe how growing up felt without knowing these things about myself and that comic had me crying on my phone
#meows#like any poems or art about being a cat and being misunderstood bc of it resonate so hard#that one poem that’s like am I your brother? why am I so small?#cries uncontrollably
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beauty
poem
lyf
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Unrecognized
Why can’t the world see us
the way we are inside,
the goodness and the struggle
we often seem to hide,
the way we try to flourish
the way we mask our pain—
Is it any wonder why
we sometimes go insane…
-GeorgeFilip
#poem#poetry#poetrythreesixfive#georgefilip#spilledink#poetryportal#poetsandwriters#poetsontumbler#spilledwords#deepthoughts#misunderstood
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#poems on tumblr#original poem#poetry#poems and poetry#words#writerscommunity#dead poets society#artists on tumblr#poemsociety#misunderstood#writers on tumblr#artist on tumblr#writers and poets#spilled ink#spilled words#poetryisart#life poetry#friendship#love poems#poetrycommunity#poemsdaily#writerscorner
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The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
#i remember reading someone say once that this is one of the most popular poems in the english language despite being the most misunderstood#if you ask someone on the street what they remember it means they usually say it’s about taking the road less traveled and being independen#not taking the traditional way and forging your own path. at least that’s what culture has taken from the poem#but it’s actually about how no matter which path you take you always think back with regret that you didn’t take another#and that you think you can see what each path will lead to but you can’t and at the end of the day they’re not that different#when the older version of the narrator says ‘i took the road less traveled by and that has made all the difference’ that’s how they’re#contextualizing and giving meaning to their decision and their life but one can never know the ‘difference’ that was made because#we can’t live more than one life in order to find out if there really is a difference#we make ourselves promises that we’ll live every version of life and take all the paths we cross but we get older and we realize we can’t#not only that we can’t but we didn’t and we never will have done#when we say that choice made all the difference we’re not talking about how we won because we were independent or started a new trail for#others to follow we’re just saying that that choice made our life what it is and that can never be undone and we can never know what could#have happened#i think that take on it is more depressing for people so they stick with the other one#it’s more inspiring to think of it as a poem about making your own way rather than as a poem about how we are forced to make every decision#that will determine our fates without knowing what might happen and with our eyes closed and ears plugged and no matter what we do#we will probably live to regret something about it#anyway enough rambling#did you know robert frost was a march aries#w#robert frost#kennapost
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Virginia Woolf - The voyage out
#poems and quotes#quotes#dark poetry#poetry#loneliness#understood#misunderstood#misunderstanding#emptiness#lonely#dark literature#classic literature#literature#classic lit aesthetic#dark acamedia#dark poem#dark art#virginia woolf
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I feel like I’m made of paper
And it is raining
But all u see is sun
So you think I’m just complaining
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the Sailor
the sailor sat, gasping for breath
It didn’t notice the pebble digging into its leg
(it forgot.)
as misery wrote its repeating repetitions into the sand
The air was so rough against her tongue
she might have wondered if it was sand after all
but it tasted like stained wooden floors and everything she’d left behind
so she didn’t wonder anything
and he remembered the stained wooden floors and the acrid smoke
(and he forgot the beach being carved away beneath him)
The sky was dark
(wasn’t the moon full?)
and the water was dark
(or at least waxing?)
and he could feel the misery grinding away at the ground
(but he forgot that too.)
The water was dark and they remembered the floor,
that stained wooden floor and everything they’d left behind.
They forgot
the chasm
(they remembered the stains)
the chasm, even though they could feel it was there
Even though they could feel the water filling it
The sand did not remember the beach it had been, because sand cannot remember anything.
The sailor was surrounded by misery’s chant
Its eyes were not closed nor open.
The moon waxed overhead
as the misery spat a board out from between its teeth
The beach, bereft of what it had been
The sand had trickled away like an hourglass.
and the sailor and the water and the board from between its teeth
and the misery, and the water
and the sailor and the waxing moon
The board had never smelled of smoke nor
been a floor nor was it stained just so
but when it struck her treading arms she remembered the misery and the moon and the pebble beneath her leg
She remembered the chasm, and the beach that had been
She’d never know if she chose or her mind chose for her
but when the hope struck her treading arms she clutched at it tightly
and breathed in the smooth, glittering air
He clutched at the board
and the air tasted of salt and delicately descending dawn
The misery swayed him, he had no sand nor stained wooden floor
but he clutched at the hope and smelled the salt instead and
remembered the moon was a waxing crescent.
Maybe their mind chose it for them, the joy, the hope, but they held fast
the sand had been swept away by moonlit misery
but the sailor clutched at the joy
and sailed on
.
#my poetry#poems#written for a close friend but really about my beliefs on the importance of joy. hope even#fav line so she didn't wonder anything.#though someone who read it misunderstood it so idk if it works for anyone else#friend said they enjoyed it tho so im winning
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