#Best Poetry

[sakshinarula]

I feel like a galaxy when you look at me. No one has ever looked at my darkness with so much love.

-The Art Of Staying Lost, Sakshi Narula

[words-and-coffee]

So this last year, though I didn't read too much fiction, I read a lot of poetry, most of which was from poets I had never read before. Here are my favourite poetry books of those I read in 2023 (trigger warnings I noticed in the read more).

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón (5/5) An intimate, beautifully sincere look into a vulnerable space of life, loss, love, and lust. Limón expresses herself with exquisite language, without the aftertaste of pretence. I had never read Limón's work previously, but I will be looking at her back catalogue.

C+nto & Othered Poems by Joelle Taylor (4.5/5) I had never read Joelle Taylor before; however, it became evident almost immediately that she is an extremely skilled and experienced poet and wordsmith. Taylor's writing is intentional and powerful, with times of both great beauty and brutality. The collection itself is centred around reflecting on butch counterculture.

Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised by Alice Te Punga Somerville (4.5/5) Always Italicised is a wonderful collection centred around a visually powerful concept of italicising foreign (non-native) words following the suggestion that foreign (non-English) words should be italicised in a fantastic act of malicious compliance. The primary focus is on colonisation and Te Punga Somerville's experience as a Māori writer and scholar in Aotearoa. Reflecting on the loss of language, the stigma and the historical oppression that Maori people have experienced/continue to experience as a consequence of colonisation.

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On by Franny Choi (4.5/5) This book has my favourite title of the year and the poetry lives up to it. My previous experience with Choi was in her spoken word work and I found this collection just as enjoyable, I listened to her narration on audiobook while reading along and found the poems to be beautifully reflective, personal, and rich in atmosphere.

Flèche by Mary Jean Chan (4/5) Chan's short collection is complex and interesting, she mainly reflects on her relationship with her mother, and her experiences as a queer person of colour. The collection feels raw in a beautiful and occasionally painful way.

The Trees Witness Everything by Victoria Chang (4/5) Another banger of a title. I really loved the imagery in Chang's writing. She writes with intent and skill which is obvious from the get-go. While I struggled to connect with this collection on an emotional level I still was in awe of it on a technical level.

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón Graphic: Grief, Death, Death of parent, and Terminal illness Moderate: Animal death, Racial slurs, Xenophobia, and Racism Minor: Alcoholism and Drug abuse

C+nto & Othered Poems by Joelle Taylor Graphic: Hate crime, Death, Lesbophobia, Homophobia, and Violence Moderate: Misogyny, Sexual assault, and Sexual violence

Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised by Alice Te Punga Somerville Graphic: Colonisation Moderate: Racism Minor: Miscarriage

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On by Franny Choi Graphic: Death, Xenophobia, War, Racism, Violence, Grief, Police brutality, Sexual assault, and Colonisation Moderate: Sexual violence, Sexism, Suicide, Rape, and Police brutality

Flèche by Mary Jean Chan Graphic: Homophobia, Lesbophobia, and Racism Moderate: Mental illness and Self harm

The Trees Witness Everything by Victoria Chang Moderate: Death

[50shadesofloveanddukh]

I love you Rumi💌

[kiarits]

"Without you I returned, as if drunk, no longer capable of being alone in the evening when the tired clouds disappear in the uncertain darkness. I have been so alone a thousand times since I have been alive, and a thousand identical evenings the grass and the mountains darkened my eyes the countryside, the clouds. Alone in the day, and then inside the silence of the fateful evening. And now, drunk, I'm coming back without you, and by my side there is only the shadow. And you will be far away from me a thousand times, and then, forever. I don't know how to brake this anguish that rises inside the breast; To be alone".

Pier Paolo Pasolini

[shazi-1]

غصے میں جو نکھرا ہے ، اس حُسن کا کیا کہنا

کچھ دیر ابھی ہم سے تم یوں ہی خفا رہنا

اس حُسن کے شعلے کی تصویر بنا لیں ہم

ان گرم نگاہوں کو سینے سے لگا لیں ہم

پل بھر اسی عالم میں اے جانِ ادا رہنا

کچھ دیر ابھی ہم سے، تم یوں ہی خفا رہنا

یہ دہکا ہوا چہرہ ، یہ بکھری ہوئی زلفیں

یہ بڑھتی ہوئی دھڑکن ، یہ چڑھتی ہوئی سانسیں

سامانِ قضا ہو تم، سامانِ قضا رہنا

کچھ دیر ابھی ہم سے تم یوں ہی خفا رہنا

پہلے بھی حسیں تھیں تم ، لیکن یہ حقیقت ہے

وہ حُسن مصیبت تھا ، یہ حُسن قیامت ہے

اوروں سے تو بڑھ کر ہو ، خود سے بھی سوا رہنا

کچھ دیر ابھی ہم سے تم یوں ہی خفا رہنا

(ساحر لدھیانوی)

[bazamesham96]

She doesn't say anything.

She doesn't say anything. But just looking up at the sky. And with sad eyes, They become so busy taking care of others, forgets himself, that is also important, She doesn't say anything. Me too shut up. When she knows herself, I will be recognized.

[coloredhats5]

I think about the first month we were together,and a smile appears on my face, on the other hand my smile also fades as i remember the months beyond the first

To be honest looking back now i realize things should of ended way before they did, you even told me once yourself “ you should be treated like a princess…have higher standards for yourself you shouldn't be in my messages begging me to take you back it should be the other way around”

I didn't see it before but now i do, i know now what it feels like to be treated like a princess,

My standards are higher, and i'm happier than i ever was with you

I no longer feel alone even when i have someone by my side, i don't wait for text messages or replies

He tells me he loves me, and i don't have to think twice about wether what he said is a lie, because i feel loved

I am loved.

I no longer have to cry at night

Maybe through your eyes i was the peace you needed in life, you might've thought you found it in me but i dont think thats right

I can't give you anything,that you can't get yourself

I was weak and frail, my vision was blurred, i didn't know what love entailed

And now that i know what love truly is, i can tell you

your hearts not meant for me

And mine belongs to someone else

-NS

[gumnaam007]

صادق ہوں اپنے قول میں، غالبؔ! خدا گواہ

کہتا ہوں سچ کہ، جھوٹ کی عادت نہیں مجھے

مرزا غالبؔ

[blueskyscraperi]

[sakshinarula]

I removed my soul and set it aside to be read on a Sunday unlike today. Today my lonely is heavier than the earth and the weight of it has been killing me slowly. Time is birthing more time and I don't know what I want to do with the excess I already have.

- Sunday Poem, Bad Poetry and This Loving, Sakshi Narula

[connectingwithsoul]

She was the girfriend, I am the wife. She was the karma, I am the life. She was controlling, I am secure. She brought you pain, I'll give you the joy.

@connectingwithsoul

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[kiarits]

"I measure every pain I encounter with keen, probing eyes - I wonder if it weighs as much as mine - or has a lighter size - I wonder if they carried it long - or has it just begun - I couldn't say the date of mine - It seems so old a pity - I wonder if it's bad for living - and if they are forced to move on - And if - being able to choose a path - they would not rather die I notice that some - long patient - At a certain point, they find their smile again - Like a light that it has so little oil I wonder if when years have accumulated - A few thousand - about bad that hurt them early - such a flow could give them some balm or they would still continue to suffer through centuries of resistance - train yourself for a greater punishment - in antithesis to love

The afflicted - there are many - they tell me - there is a variety of causes. Death is only one and comes only once and just locks his eyes there is the pain of missing - and the pain of the cold - a variety called "Despair" - There is the exile with native eyes within the native air and though I can't guess the genre - correctly - however for me a penetrating comfort it offers the crossing of the ordeal note the shape - of the crosses - and how they are usually worn always fascinated by presuming that someone is like mine".

Emily Dickinson

[shazi-1]

ہر وقت کا ہنسنا تجھے برباد نہ کر دے

تنہائی کے لمحوں میں کبھی رو بھی لیا کر

(محسن نقوی)

[bazamesham96]

[pakistanwink]

Woh Aik Larki Sy ziada | Beautiful Nazm by Nasim Khan #urdupoetry

Poetry recitation