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coffeexxcigarettes · 13 days

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Almond Milk

-

Sometimes I don't know what's actually me.

I'm sure that's confusing,

So hear me out, if you have the time.

I believe we are made of wires

And memories.

Pathways to which we learn lessons.

For example,

If you speak too loudly and are shushed,

The wire bends within you.

You learn to speak softer.

I'm not sure, I suppose,

If I really like almond milk,

Or if you taught me that there were good foods

And that there were bad.

I'm not sure if blending almonds with water really does taste better,

Or if the wire within me tangled into a ball

To fill my stomach instead.

I trusted you to teach me young,

Yet I have memories of us,

Counting every damn almond in the house.

Strange how I have no memories of us

Actually eating one.

x

..

..@nosebleedclub April 17th- Almond Milk

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givreencres · 10 months

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Even in the darkest night

If we look within a difference sight

We Will see the light

The warmest light within the night

The inspiring night with a small light

#photographer on tumblr #pixel7 #night #light #church #aixenprovence #night sky #raw poetry #spilled words #poeticstories #poetry in image #my poem

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blrrblog · 2 months

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Because I know it’s possible

I believe in a great love

Because I know it’s possible and I believe in it

Because of the way I love

I know I will find someone

Who loves me

The way I love the world

The way I love my friends

My family

The little joys, and

The way I love myself

I know I will find someone

Who loves, and

Who is not afraid of a great love

Because I know it’s possible

Because I have a great love in me

That I am not afraid to give to the world

And to the one I love

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amuseumofmoments · 1 year

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Since no one wrote a poem on me, I wrote one on my truest self and I think we all can resonate with it

#poetry #literature #spilled poetry #poetrycommunity #true self #sad but beautiful #unloved #love #metaphor #raw poetry #poets on tumblr #poetic #sad poem #i feel so unloveable

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abhanabha · 1 year

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Seasons shift, world moves on,

Stuck in place, feeling withdrawn,

Time passes, life unchanged,

Trapped in a cycle, feeling estranged.

#deep quotes #random thoughts #deep thoughts #romanticism #spilled thoughts #writing help #original poem #raw poetry #random #not a poet

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gooblegobbleblog · 1 year

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Napul'è

Visitare in religioso silenzio la Galleria Borbonica, e a un certo punto udire la voce di un ragazzo che urla al suo amico: rint'a fess' 'e mamm't!

#napoli #raw poetry #frasi napoletane

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andyklingensmith · 1 year

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Archival #13

Early 2023

I will lie in the earth and let the blood flow and tell you it’s growing flowers on your grave. I will tell you the sun is shining on your face as it turns to stone in my hands.

.

When the sun goes out I screw in another and the whirring threads stitch my worried heart Illuminating a surgical scar that reads like a liturgy Passing between passages and small holes in skin I start to feel the warm air assimilate the cool again So I open the window to keep out the storm that walks in my head through a landscape of thorns

.

There is nothing difficult

about holding a hand

but I find it impossible

to keep my fingers

from crushing yours

Snapping, cracking like stems cut from flowers The trashbin will smell of roses for a week to come

As I raise the lid

I raise your nails

with a winch

to sleep under

The gold

stains my palms

with glitter

I spread it to my face

as I stir in my sleep

And when I wake

the morning light

illuminates my skin

like the sunrise

over a field of dew

.

You should unmask. We have all laid aside disguise but you.

.

There is love in the violence that tears a man apart and there is mercy in the breaking of a wide and lonely heart I am painting with the blood that pours from your arm Something depicting the way you used to feel The red brings out emotion that other colors do not do So look into the mirror See me looking back at you

.

I am on the verge of the void

If I raise my arm

it disappears

If I lean my head

there goes an ear

Holding onto life I feel it snuff out

with the same hollow wind

which laughs as it flows

from heartland to heartland

in a black undertow

.

Isn’t it red? That hue as you carry it closer, it mellows It’s more like a yellow Funny how things change as they spend time in your head If you’d have caught it in its prime You’d have given it all to green Unchecked by time, one draws from what one has seen But you didn’t notice it was different You didn’t notice at all Until it was lying dead before you Until summer turned to fall

.

If this is not what you meant it to be then bend the earth back and touch moon to sea Let them kiss there quietly The tides breathe: “Finally”

#dailypoetry #confessional #spilledink #therapy #naturalism #nature writing #emotional #diary #new poetry #raw poetry #experimental #stream of consciousness

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dis-nightmare-continues · 1 year

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the nurturing son

1.

he buys into the culture nature vs nurture vulture in the city vulture wearing leather with someone else’s cult advertised on the sleeve

experienced lingo of course he identifies

with the movement movement, between between, movement

of course

loud music in the park cocaine habit both his parents

he supports both his lovers

of course he buys into the culture curse the movement, vulture in the city of cocaine and mdma out in the sticks where he

shakes his hands out in the boonies where deals are real he shakes his hands

his leg in the city

charity he supports

2.

in leather with someone else’s ego

advertised on the sleeve

his pleasure he sings he sings his pleasure every

chance he gets, his diet, his mind his body of course he sings

his pleasure every chance

he gets

on the side of a building in the alley it’s a busy night and there’s a streetlight out two cigarettes illuminate four baggy eyes under a moonless sky

new acquaintance, there’s recognition in the way they ash and schmooze pretending to know one another’s city better than they may if it weren’t for brandy’s voice

peeking through

some things slip through

the space between awareness

circumstance

a general understanding of shared

a sense of sincerity, or at least a thriving towards

such a sentiment through one’s gestures, and a

connection brick cold desert evening

dropped 10 degrees out of nowhere

pleads threshold my insatiable my own self

show me what it is that you know, he what secret let you through the to see beyond the absoluteness of desire and overcome my mistrust of

my own

mistrust in god the student and the teacher are roles

genuine feeling of needing

that we (must choose to) perform

3.

seven years of exploration seven years of self reckoning with observer

found guilty on all counts

regeneration, healing arts long forgotten or undiscovered

now made available from within

A new sense of pride paired with an understanding of one's own limitations

moments come and go, people prove to be but ghosts whose purpose has since expired and lay wandering in your mind like

parasite and host

lost in memory, for illusion of contentment but who is it that you look to? Who is it that you're so afraid to let down?

4.

false musings under a full moon, a group of pacifists with varying intentions and a unified goal carry their mothers wood body through the trees to burn

there's merit in this pyre, these throats they sing like toads in broken sadness, their toes cold but far from decay, protected in wool.

cold pale night breath thick as smoke they sing, sing to their mother they burn their mother the wood they burn

party concrescence

disco ball unleashed unto art studio floor it's your day comes crashing down the disco ball

comes crashing on to the art studio floor hard thunk

for cheap plastic all laugh no beer spilt all dance

all laugh

X

the opening continues drama intersecting unfolding narrative with an unspoken theme life of value

illusory revelation of which time in all its angles can be seen

X

toilet bowl alchemy it's a manifesto a flier on a wall in a yoga studio that serves as

a kratom speakeasy at night students Om in euphoric joy–perform improvised rituals of ecstatic movement men in black stand side by side, facing the crowd fluorescent psychonauts, right, I saw this in a dream once rainbow gathering motel party interdimensional speed dating and now it's hard to differentiate between the dream and what happened in reality

X

"You might want to go ahead and save my number, captain it's gonna be a long night and we aren't so well acquainted although I hope one day to be."

insufferable identity reclamation novel

I am hungry, wungry, and wise don't despise the water in your cup wet that whistle, watch it erupt you have so much dry brain how can you expect to write? Isn't the artist just channeling what someone else might? mites at your wrists on nights spent alone who knows who you could have been, reconciling what was lost–deep in thoughts but no way left to act. Act not and discover the sanctity of silence. The hermits delight. alchemical attachment, alternatively detached delight

————————————————

A lucid dream from long ago

projected into the present, I know this place, I mean I knew it even before I knew it from a dream.

A spiral of memory winds tight around sacral chakra threatens the lungs in restriction, neural pathways caked and calcified in dietary decisions long replaced

chipped away at by chaga, lions mane and MDMA, one moment at a time revealed now to the patient observer A time laps of seasons passed

you're too tired to skip over

waves of ideology, or a deeper sense of broadening one's own understanding of what's even going on–life lived through an unseen observer/ life lived for hedonistic pleasure/ life lived as a collection of memories, found

hardly anywhere at any given time

It's a way of being that tends to isolate–it inspires suspicion and runs you paranoid and hot, still your heart illuminates whether true archetypal inspiration is accessed or not

A long forgotten youthful dream of a lover who needed me, yes dear, this moment spent so close to you (hot breath, condensation, safe) was seen too, a premonition that saved me when I was a child with nothing to love or embrace

————————————————

False productivity

go ahead and explain this to my parents when I'm dead

I stopped believing in a consistent vision of reality. Ever changing ideology to match an ever changing world

and so set out to discover the times and the movement and found no great unifier just disconnected lexicon of youth who emulated what they didn't fully understand

It beat university commodification of consciousness a refraining of the same western values paying homepage to itself

shakers and tricksters make love in the woods, yearly ritual of everything and anything new age reductionism

Buddhist mistranslation psychedelic induced schizophrenia Smoke Smog Night

————————————————

this is where you were meant to go breathing in burning leaves in ritualistic sanctity. You don't quite fit in here, but you wear it nonchalant you've looked all across the country for a chance to lay your head at an inn with a view of the mountains. It's time now, those mountains, how they call, it's time now, cold at last, delightful cold your lover jumps up and down on

the wooden floors of her apartment. the bears are sleeping, but we do not sleep breath burning leaves

do we not sleep

————————————————

guilt don't pay the bills, so

don't go deeper into delusions of re evolution of the species

keeps you up at night how darwin

must have lost

sleep neurotic daydreamer

try to heat your cabin by candlelight

i moved out here to get away from everyone

who ever said they loved me search aimlessly

simply exploring urban landscapes for sake of

some sense of indoctrination into a reality i grew up fetishizing

disneyland too late

cleveland ohio too late

the post surrealist

pseudo industrial anti intellectual revolution will not be streamed on twitch

i wrestle with dopamine i take out my frustration on lower vibrational creatures for my envy of poets long dead

for i know not what life is like outside the framework of abandoned factories who roofs offered views that were once the furthest i had seen from home

————————————————

what good is an

art town without art a thick layer of makeup on a puffy corpse

Patagonia colonizers never seen at night offensive mediocrity on brutalized land

mother mountain's passive hand she watches from the Jemez for ignorants to ignore

to rest, to heal a cowards chore

#poetry #zine #chapbook #poet #raw poetry #modern poetry #words #funny poetry #me #scott mcmaster ii #santa fe #new mexico #visceral realism

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asun-thr · 1 year

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Self-Blame

For the longest time of my life,

I thought everything about me was wrong, messed up.

For the longest time of my life,

I thought I was the problem, that I was cursed to be like this.

My mind still thinks back to the day my mother asked me,

"Why are you like this? Since when were you like this?"

And I replied, with tears streaming down my eyes,

"I don't know. Trust me, I would love to know as well."

It was as if I was begging to the heavens above,

It was like my knees were on the ground and my hands were clasped within one another.

It was as if I thought that if I cried and longed hard enough,

I would magically go back to the person I once was.

I could see the rage and disappointment well up in the eyes I once sought comfort in,

"How? How could my perfect child that I raised turn out this way?

What happened? What went wrong?

Why is my child like this?"

And in my mind I screamed back at her,

"I do not know, I don't want to be like this.

Mother, do not stare at me like that.

Fix me, fix me, fix me."

"I wish to be normal again."

For the longest time of my life,

I thought there was no other reason to my suffering

Other than,

"You were just born like this".

But now I'm realizing,

The sun in my life,

The saint and savior I always looked up to,

Is why I needed saving in the first place.

The person I was praying to,

The one who was grieving the lost of my childhood alongside me,

The person who I was so sure could fix all of my problems which gradually sprouted,

Was the one who planted their seeds all along.

And so I sob, I wail, and I kick, and I cry,

But to whom am I supposed to cry to?

My mother is no longer my mother,

She never lived up to that role and I only just caught on.

A mother is someone who has the most power in the entire world.

She can eradicate the loving future she thought motherhood held in a blink of an eye,

And she can crush the spirits of her child in a mere second,

But she can also bring a child the life she always longed for.

Mine,

Never realized the latter,

And it's like she blames me for it.

So tell me,

Who is a child supposed to blame if not the person their mother blames most?

---

Asther L.

#literature #original poem #poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #words #writers on tumblr #writing #sad poem #mommy issues #raw poetry #emotions

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gain-modesty · 1 year

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ITS ALL A PROCESS.. TO HEAL, TO BUILD, TO LOVE AGAIN, TO FEEL EMOTION, TO FIND YOURSELF, TO BUILD YOUR ESTEEM, TO CARE, ETC, AFTER A PAINFUL LOSS THAT RIPPED APART A ONCE COMPASSIONATE SPACE. THE HEART, THAT ONCE LOVED GENUINELY!

#HolyHotMessExpressItsAProcess #Amazon #published #raw poetry #faith #line art #illustrations

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trap-str · 12 days

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#unable to find source #poetry #violent love #yearn #yearning #love #love poetry #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #poetic #writing #raw poetry

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coffeexxcigarettes · 2 months

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Fit

-

Is there a convenience to love?

If I didn't fit into your life,

Cutting pieces of myself off,

Letting them fall in chunks at my feet-

Would you still look at me in admiration?

Through the pain and the blood,

It's hard to see what I've become.

But you beam at me enthusiastically,

And I take the knife to my side

With urgency and pride,

Again.

Is this enough?

Again.

Aspirations and gore beneath me.

Again.

..Is that what love is?

#writing #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #heartbreak #love #poem #lovesick #mental health #sad thoughts #spilled thoughts #prose #prose poetry #poem of the day #raw poetry #original poem

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givreencres · 1 year

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Kiss me like I kiss you

With all your soul

WIth all your body

WIll all your passion

WIll all your heart

WIth truth

Without anything Hidden

Kiss me like I kiss you

#spilled words #poeticstories #poetry in image #my poem #poem #poeme #poesie #poetry #kiss #couple goals #street-art #stencil #Paris #Luminar4 #silhouette #Ombre #raw poetry

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blrrblog · 1 month

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Angel, too

In the mirror of my mind, I see your face

An angel, you claimed, but left without a trace

Your words, like honey, were sweet and kind

But they were empty, leaving heartache behind

You sang of love, of being my angel

But all I felt was the twist of the bangle

The cold metal of promises, now just lies

In the silent night, my heart cries

You're no angel, just a silhouette in the night

Your love, a shadow, disappearing in the light

I was your melody, you were my song

But the music stopped, something went wrong

Now I'm dancing alone under moonlight’s glow

In the cold wind, my tears flow

You're no angel, to me it’s clear

Just a memory, disappearing in the rear

So fly away, with your feathery lies

I'm no longer a prisoner to your disguise

You're no angel, and I'm breaking free

In the cold light of day, I'm just letting you be.

For him, from her.

Inspired by: Angel, The Weeknd, too.

#poem #raw poetry #lyrics #after-poem #spilled ink #poetry #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #doomed romance #spilled heart #heartache #feelings #romance #love poem #betrayal #angel by the weeknd #if you were the right person #there would be no wrong time

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iwanttobeagh0st · 1 month

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#notes app poetry #poetry #writing #emotional writing #heartbreak #no edits #raw poetry #flowers #nature #perserverance #vicious cycle #self care #self love #take care of yourself

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ehwhocaresnotshakespeareihope · 2 months

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It’s all in the comments,every freaking time.

#book quotes #literature #dark aesthetic #poetry #raw poetry

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