#tumblr poets
soulinkpoetry · a day ago
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How strange.
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lilllium · 9 months ago
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—Salvador Plascencia, from The People Of Paper
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rhapsodyinblue80 · 3 months ago
I wonder what our relationship was meant to teach us? If every connection serves a greater purpose, what did we learn from one another? I recall the way I once trusted you, held you up beneath the stars' shimmer as my navigating light. We used to thread our future plans amongst the constellations as a knotted promise of eternity.
Admittedly, there are still roads I can't drive down and a tobacco shop I can no longer enter. Its scent smells like your eyes. And there's a place I erased months before that still hints at your fingerprints. If what we gained was the capacity to love vulnerably and with such aching intensity, could the scars left behind be worthy of our ecstasy?
And did your tenderness give voice to my poetry, a fragrance it would not have carried had i only wandered solo by the sea's edge where first we encountered our story's scent? As I fold the edges of our script, my fingers trace its remembrance no longer in sadness, but as nostalgia for the woman I once was and can peer back upon fondly for her beautiful frailties, disappointments, and sweetness. I have now become because I once was her. Having grown through her remembrance, I surrender her memory to the sea.
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instanceandthephrase · 7 days ago
Dire Faith
There once were Dreams worth writing,
Instead they are Softly spoken
With feet treading ground Once hallowed Upon sacred dirt Soon to hold What living bones Take their walk Over calling graves Being buried -
Deeper each day While we suffer These minutes So tragically fast.
Those blades of grass Only know An existence Repeatedly trampled Like our own breaths Always too shallow Chasing distance Never that close -
Though we push On subsequent hopes,
Even working hard Getting soiled,
When trailing mud Pushing further Through a graveyard Running away.
This experience Entombs us all -
Such useless lies Offer silence
Since words Ambitiously falter If uttering none After death.
But loss tells tales In itself,
Much how rain Creates puddles.
Perhaps poetry Is forever conversing Politely from hell Here and now.
       ⁃       J. Pigno
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rhapsodyinblue45 · a month ago
every sensual note startles me
with uncontained honesty
I can’t escape feeling enraptured by your voice
solitary melody standing richly beneath
night’s fragile rain
each word speaks
for my lapses
cursed emotional distances I cling to,
you call my name
awakening illusions
from their sleep, soft footfalls betraying my heart’s inestimable. loneliness
your song
unwrapping layers of tulle
where I retreat from cloistered feelings
gripped within utter privacy
a collection of lilies bound
in crepe paper and emerald silk
an artifice meant to deceive
undetected {protected by an insulated smile}
don’t press tooclose
the doorbell in my head answers:
it’s a love story, but substantially
windows stand ajar,
thoughts seep through,
your music’s crescendo inveigles me
enticing my tongue’s underbelly into unsuspecting
revelations - enveloped in vulnerability’s cloak;
your aching cloth unsheathes my ancient fear Of being wanted/Of wanting to need
confessional acidity, oh, these sober thoughts
how desperately they reek of perfumed lavender
hazy polar seasons, love’s vibrancy
held fast by frosted clips of indifference
your gravity weighs upon
crystal-slippered thoughts
provoking wonder - will my fingers ever be worthy
of such intimacy
love'sToRy// Rhapsodyinblue45
Confession: I wrote this piece while listening to one of my old favs "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles. I wish I could express my thoughts as beautifully and eloquently and painfully openly as she does.
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midarapoetry · 3 months ago
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for all the lives i could not live.
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daydreams-n-daaru · 16 days ago
“In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you remember me? I miss you more than I remember you.”
“In my language, the one I recall now only by closing my eyes, the word for love is Yêu. And the word for weakness is Yếu. How you say what you mean changes what you say.”
—Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous & Time is a Mother.
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entre-el-cielo-y-la-tierra · 2 months ago
I love you to look at me...
I love to talk to you with my eyes,
with my smile,
with that glow of my soul
that is warmth in my chest
and that becomes yours too
when you embrace me.
I love to look at you...
I love to feel that you enter through my retinas
like a warm and soft light
that does not blind, but illuminates
every cell of my eyes,
making me able to see,
not only the divinity that you are
and carry in your breast,
but to see me
as the perennial beat
that makes your heart dance.
I love you to see and feel
what you are for me,
that you see yourself reflected in the pure mirror
of my eyes and of my heart...
I love your being entirely
and entirely you throb in me.
I love to be the electric spark
that causes your heart to beat,
the blood that pumps
through your veins,
the air you breathe
and cleanses your lungs,
nourishing you with life and health...
I love to be the intention of your voice,
the warmth of your tongue,
the taste of your taste buds,
the sincere word;
the effect and the reason of your love.
The sublime peace that crowns me
knowing that I am well loved,
the endless gratitude that beautifies life by having you with me,
the joy of knowing that I am the happiest
and satisfied of women
to have the blessing of your love,
the endless fullness that is to feel you in me.
It is that love that is the father of your peace,
which is mine...
And so, as I crown you with the joy
of knowing you are loved,
I am satisfied to be the knight
who carries in his hands the ring
of this love,
for what you carry in your bosom,
I carry in my heart as well.
I am so much yours
that my soul has become your name
and my spirit prays at your feet.
With all the passion
that my blood can feel
I have given myself to this union
that can never die.
The truth that you speak
resonates in my being and is kept
where the eternal is in me
as much mine as yours already.
I have given you everything,
joyfully, in all freedom,
I have surrendered myself to this love
so blessed and sublime.
Your prayer unites with mine
and to heaven they fly like incense
that the angels smile
as they feel their wings perfumed.
What a sweet surrender so total!
That there is no death,
only life that beats eternity.
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— E.V.E & Esu Emmanuel©
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reabrej · 2 months ago
How do you address the living,
when you can’t hear your own name?
The heart is pumping and the body moving,
but where is the brain?
Vision is blurry and mind is auto-piloting
A walking purgatory
IG&FB: @jckpoetry
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trustonlystars · 3 months ago
Sometimes all it takes, is one heartbeat, one song, one word in a season to fall apart. And even if I try to gather all that I am in a circle, this season won't let me sit still. It'll take me places, hand me the beauty and tuck in flowers to the folds. The season has its own way of reminding that in all the loneliness that I see, a lot of space is taken up. And I breakdown, when someone tells me they get me, when they know what I actually feel, when they sit across me and tell me that they see the tears I try so hard to hide. I have always been the mysterious one, it's heartbreaking now to see someone see me. The cold sheets over my heart are really soft to uncover and I melt down when someone knows how to uncover it without efforts. It's so hard to be understood, but it's also so warm to be understood. I still leave my umbrella at home, for when it rains, I can take shelter at odd city corners taking pauses that life wants me to. There is nowhere I need to get in rush, so I walk back home when the rain drops feel softer on my skin.
- trustonlystars | Jannie F
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ramayantika · 3 months ago
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Swan like gait and laughter that sounds melodious like a flute's tune, 
The boy stills when he hears her laugh ten steps away. 
What would I give to feel young love again? 
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Tender hearts, first lovers and sweet restlessness. 
She walks with her companions to the river, 
He watched her intently with devotion, hoping she would turn back.
Maybe today those beautiful eyes will land on him
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'Grant supreme bliss to the saints. I am happy with even just a mere glance,' he says.
Destiny or coincidence? Do lovers really care? 
She threw a glance at him and winked. 
The young boy blushed and moved his face away. He definitely was blessed! 
Samkshipta (2)
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soulinkpoetry · 4 months ago
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A wolf gentleman!
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lilllium · 9 months ago
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—Mahmoud Darwish, from In the Presence Of Absence
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rhapsodyinblue80 · a month ago
We aren't destined
for a life uncluttered
pain, conflict, turmoil,
loneliness, illness, loss,
tragedy. We each
enormous scoops
gut-wrenching nights
where we stare out
that frost-coated ledge
howling until
our chests seethe
newly splintered
frontier places.
If we're fortunate, the cracks eventually widen
into trails
our feet
can travel
homeward, back
to the settlements
hearts. But we never
the same wanderer, gripped with wanderlust.
Instead, we levitate
in chatty rooms allowing our minds to drift within
a blood warm abyss-
smiling without eyes,
listening without ingesting
We still inhabit these bodies; they just no longer
restrict our visions
to live beyond
the scope of
Survival becomes
its own
creative landscape. We
originated as Pangaea, yet
time and circumstance
carve beautiful
cliffs and craggy continents into our lifeline's tabula rasa.
Each comprised of
an intricate world shaped
by hurricanes and droughts
with moon-shaped irises,
blood formed rivers,
toes rooted in stars.
Pangaea// Rhapsodyinblue80
Image: Pangea by Chirila Corina
Written for my creative writing students as they share their personal narratives this week and share the continents within.
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instanceandthephrase · a month ago
Sunset Beach (Revisited)
I thought there would be Some escape Now returning To Sunset Beach,
Watching as dawn Becomes morning Seeing Atlantus Just off her coast
During visits Opposing such namesakes Feeling evenings Ruin distinction
Secluded by night Hiding memories Appearing more bold When it’s bright,
Where daylight builds Over wave breaks And histories crash Across shorelines
Echoing dreams Long forgotten But almost afloat Like that wreck  -
While my other lives Drift out at sea Finding happiness Treading deep water,
Held between tides Beneath oceans Under storms so great They get lost.
Perhaps no proof Should remain As artifacts state There was meaning.
Childhood hopes Along storefronts Sipping soda with mom Never last.
Each current Must carry this soul How captured sand Within bottles
Tells stories Of places we visit Before shattering After you leave.
       ⁃       J. Pigno
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rhapsodyinblue45 · 3 months ago
there is where I long to be
tucked within the clavicle
of your thoughts
resting my lips upon
your night's heartbeat
listening to our silence
accordion feeling
serenading your cheek
moonlit streaks
playing striptease
with our skin
let's burrow in
til dawn
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elyndesireepoetry · a month ago
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