#Poetry AJD

[dathwan]

Henry David Thoreau Poem

Fame cannot tempt the bard,  Who's famous with his God, Nor laurel him reward, Who has his Maker's nod.

[bruisekiid]

finally got my new place settled and I just wanna commemorate it since I've had this blog since I was 14 lmao. we did it, we made it etc.

[brothertodeath]

oh what a match, what a pair we make

the sunshine to my moonlight

the happy times to dull the pain at night

my favourite fated trick of light

you're so raw, golden boy

you say you're no good with words

but your simplicity makes your love shine through

like rays of sun through clouds

that I can't help but be reminded of you

I don't think I'm good with words, my sunshine boy

not like you

I obscure the deeper meanings

hide my heart behind wordplay

too much a coward to flay

and let my feelings be on true display

so I give you these games

in return for your flames

because I'm too scared to say

three simple words to your face

oh what a match, what a pair we make

the sweetness in my doomed life

i hope you know when I ask to be your problem

I'm hoping you're my soulmate

[astral-express-family]

Ahsjdjjsjsnajsjfjjsjsjq my baby I love her I want to give her hugs and pets and just be better than Draff could ever be 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[hinako-supremacy]

MADIEI hows life

IT IS PARTY ROCK IN THE HOUSE :))))) :333 KID I LOVE YOU YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD MYY EEVRYTHING ABSHAKGDBWHAGSBAHEBEWA 💗💕💗💞💖💞💗💞💗🫀💖💗💞💖💞💗💞💖💘💘💗💕��💕💖💞🌸💞🌸🫀🫀💞����🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜💕🐜🍨🍨🍨🍨🥰🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗💝🌷🌷💝🌸🪱💌🪰🐜🪰🐜🪰 HAHAHEAHWAHGBH look thre kity

OGH POST LONG

TODAY IAM GOIGN TO HANG OUT WITH FRIENDSSSSS AT 7 HEHEHEHEHHEH ALSO LOOK AT THIS CHOKER I MADE FOR MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME IM GONNA BE LUCY WESTENRA >:333ccc GRINS

and ajd and the other day me and two friends went to a bookstore and spend over an hour in there looking at and talking about books it was so fujn SWEEPED THEIR POETRY SECTION ABSOLUTELY OBLITERATED lurking in the horror and classic literature sections one thousand years.... I GOT!!!

HEHEHEHEHEHEH the the second one apparently when i was little during breakfast id only sit down and eat if my mom read that guy's poems to me, i didnt even find that out until after i got the book lmao AND YET. I STILL DONT KNOW THAT MUCH SPANISH </3

IT IT HAS THE ORIGINAL POEMS IN SPANISH AND THE ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS SIDE BY SIDE

THE LEARNLERRR

[exitwound]

idk if you already know this poem but i think you'll like backwards by warsan shire

oh….

[nnatasha]

Dearest James,

I must open my heart and come out at once with what half kills me, for I fear that when I die they'll cut me open and find it engraved on my soul. It has been many a few years of my traipsing around waiting for you to let me in, and many more will come.

It has come out to my mother, unfortunately, and I hope you understand that I am far too ashamed to let you round for tea; Mother would undoubtedly try to wed us. The Countess, as you know, has been trying for years. I surely hope she remains shy to it, lest you may never want to enter the country again. She's already determined enough as it, no need for her making this discovery.

I'm sure you've known for quite a time, my feelings for you. As uncouth as it might be, I wish to tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber. I wish for you to be mine, dare I say.

Father would like for you to take up your job again. His luck in finding another footman is rather poor, and you're the best we ever had. You were always my favourite. Everyone misses you dearly.

Oh, do come back. I fear that I will drop dead any moment, that I'll never see you or feel the light caress of your fingers or even smell your horrid stench after aiding in the stables. I imagine that my heart beats in time with yours and that if I concentrate hard enough, you'll appear, more peculiar than electricity. I only live in the hopes to see you, to feel you again. My heart, my soul yearns for you. 

As the poets say, you're half of my soul and without that half I'm afraid I'll forever be doomed to go through life half awake if you don't have the decency to sew yourself to me. We'll be greater than Frankenstein, as horrific as it sounds. 

I can't seem to explain the state I'm in, the state my heart and my soul and my life is in. I miss you, I love you most ardently. You'll always be my downfall and you'll always be my light. Whatever our souls are made of, they're the same thing. I once heard the Lady Countess talk of Grandpa in such a way, and it made me swoon to think that people can feel and stay exactly the same forever. In another lifetime, I hope you think the same about me.

My love for you is more grand than the normal love, it's like a religion. Daren't  I ever say something so blasphemous again or I fear that the Lord will give me up to the sinners. Tell me you love me, I beg of you. I fight the urge to lay down in the street and tarnish the family name just to see you again. I miss you tragically. And I'll come back from the dead for you a million times over, more than that if needs be. It tears my heart in two that you aren't doing the same for me. 

I see you in the daytime, in shadows of light by the windows and I see you in the night, a pale hand reaching for me, never once making it. I am a walking boot, a resurrected woman and I'll never be the same again. My heart is shattered and the only cure is for you to be here, to sew it back together fragment by fragment. 

I'll see you again, I'm sure of it. In another life, or even sooner, when we're both six feet under. I'll burn this letter over and over, my feelings being destroyed in the ashes. I daren't sign anything, I daren't not even leave it in one piece. You won't mind, in sure of it. A man like you would understand me, warts and all. 

I am most definitely yours and will be for centuries to come, when the world is filled once again with light and laughter, when we're together. When elements are mashed together like the potatoes at dinner, when my love for you is stained into the walls and ceilings and floors of the manor.

I love you, and I fear that it'll be engraved on my soul when I die. 

[rukopisi-ne-gore]

Serbian poetry #1

1/?

Можда спава - Вла��ислав Петковић Дис

Заборавио сам јутрос песму једну ја, Песму једну у сну што сам сву ноћ слушао, Да је чујем узалуд сам данас кушао, Као да је песма била срећа моја сва. Заборавио сам јутрос песму једну ја.

У сну своме нисам знао за буђења моћ, И да земљи треба сунца, јутра и зоре; Да у дану губе звезде беле одоре; Бледи месец да се креће у умрлу ноћ. У сну своме нисам знао за буђења моћ.

Ја сад једва могу знати да имадох сан, И у њему очи неке, небо нечије, Неко лице, не знам какво, можда дечије, Стару песму, старе звезде, неки стари дан. Ја сад једва могу знати да имадох сан.

Не сећам се ничег више, ни очију тих: Као да је сан ми цео био од пене, Ил' те очи да су моја душа ван мене, Ни арије, ни свег другог, што ја ноћас сних; Не сећам се ничег више, ни очију тих.

Али слутим, а слутити још једино знам; Ја сад слутим за те очи, да су баш оне, Што ме чудно по животу воде и гоне: У сну дођу, да ме виде, шта ли радим сам. Али слутим, а слутити још једино знам.

Да ме виде дођу очи, и ја видим тад И те очи, и ту љубав, и тај пут среће; Њене очи, њено лице, њено пролеће У сну видим, али не знам, што не видим сад. Да ме виде, дођу очи, и ја видим тад.

Њену главу с круном косе и у коси цвет, И њен поглед што ме гледа као из цвећа, Што ме гледа, што ми каже, да ме осећа, Што ми брижно пружа одмор и нежности свет, Њену главу с круном косе и у коси цвет.

Ја сад немам своју драгу, и њен не знам глас; Не знам место на ком живи или почива; Не знам зашто њу и сан ми јава покрива; Можда спава, и гроб тужно негује јој стас. Ја сад немам своју драгу, и њен не знам глас.

Можда спава са очима изван сваког зла, Изван ствари, илузија, изван живота, И с њом спава, невиђена, њена лепота; Можда живи и доћи ће после овог сна. Можда спава са очима изван сваког зла.

She May Be Sleeping - Vladislav Petković Dis   translated by B. Cvjetković

I forgot this morning a certain song sound, The song I was listening to the entire night: I tried today to no avail to hear its chant, As if the song was all happiness I found. I forgot this morning a certain song sound.

In my dream I wasn’t aware of waking up might, And that earth needs the sun, morning, dawn; That during the day stars lose a white gown; And the pale moon moves to a dead night. In my dream I wasn’t aware of waking up might.

Now I can barely know that I had a dream, And in it someone’s eyes, someone’s sky, A face, don’t know whose, maybe of a fry, An old song, old stars, an old day gleam, Now I can barely know that I had a dream.

I recall nothing now, not even the eyes’ beam: As if the entire dream was made of spume, Or that those eyes were my detached pneum. The song or anything from last night’s dream, I recall nothing now, not even the eyes’ beam.

But I sense as to sense is the only thing I still know. I sense about those eyes that they are the ones, That oddly in my life guide me and chase me: They come to my dream to see what I do alone, But I sense as to sense is the only thing I still know.

The eyes come to see me and I see and feel Those eyes, love and the happiness way; Her eyes, her face, her blossoming May. In dream I see, but don’t know why not for real The eyes come to see me and I see and feel.

Her head with a hair crown and a flower in the hair, And her gaze that watches me like from flowers, That watches me, and tells me of her fondness, And offers me a tender rest and the world of care, Her head with a hair crown and a flower in the hair.

I have no my beloved now and don’t know her voice; Don’t know the place where she rests or resides; And don’t know why her and the dream reality hides; She may be sleeping, and a grave sadly cares for her corpse. I have no my beloved now and don’t know her voice.

She may be sleeping with eyes beyond all evil realm, Beyond the things, illusions, beyond the reality, And with her there sleeps, unseen, her beauty; She may be living and will come after this dream, She may be sleeping with eyes beyond all evil realm.

[thatreallyminecraftsmygender]

Our movement through air is indistinguishable from wind

A leaf brushes against my cheek

"What are we" I wonder

I am gone before she can reply

The inherent homo-erotisism of being in a small boat

[haneys]

If i wrote poetry ajd rambled aboht it would you listen my acquaintance.....

yes ofc id love to see your poetry and hear you ramble ^_^

[spacedikut]

(book anon) the poetry book is actually really enjoyable so far ! i usually find poetry books daunting bc i don’t have the ~brain power~ to understand metaphors and shit but this one is good :) i have an exam tomorrow but i really just couldn’t care less rn bc i lack the mental capacity for it LMAO and now i will be taking a rain check on picking up p&p to go read your new fic bc your writing really do be giving me that serotonin boost

OHHHHHH THE FINDING POETRY BOOKS DAUNTING.......SAME SAME SAME

dw ive been trying to do work for a class tomorrow and i just Can’t figure it out which means class tomorrow will be HUMILIATING i wanna go to bed even tho it’s 9pm maybe cry maybe pray i get some intelligence in my empty brain bucket

i hope u like the fic 🥺 and p&p will be waiting for u when this Terror is over OH AJD GOOD LUCK IN YOUR EXAM♥️♥️♥️

[dathwan]

Enough

I am enough. I have enough. But I can never do enough for God.

[accio-prongs]

dreaming about the moon sounds truly lovely. I was thinking about philosophical things, I got some ideas for poems too, besides that I enjoyed the silence and ofc, I spend way too much time watching the night sky(still not enough) I have to read this story, I love icarus. I also adore the time of day you described. may the world evolve, so a day is the change between the soft light and the night. my question is, how would the text on the back of the book about you/your mind/thoughts/poetry be?-n

omg i lovenu

um um. it woukd be.something soft ajd sweet like. i think ur askinf abt the font ?? i sure hope u are im jiust answer accordinf to that only but like. nothing bold, but nothinf too quiet. u kmow?? like. :•) ! u kmow

but like. you tell me, november

[dathwan]

Docility

Do not force it, Do not resist, Surrender to God, Carry my Cross and providentially providently persist, Do not reject Love, And those who God ordained to assist, Die to self always, offer up everything, do not complain inward or outward, adapt, accept, and adjust, Once I commit, Faithful humility, steadfast hope, final perseverance, charity, and love forever, As long as I exist, And do not lose trust, In God's Love, Grace, Mercy, Will, Justice, Goodness, and Providence.

[dathwan]

The Story Of A Soul, Pg. 140

Jesus, Thou dost repay a hundredfold All that we lose in loving Thee. Take then, the perfume of my life Nor give it back to me.

[dathwan]

Carrot

There once was a donkey Who followed a Carrot His Master would hang it And always ask him to share it

Through volcanos and plains Deserts, oceans, and mountains In the midst of wild beasts and men Always a’ shoutin

No matter what the donkey followed the Carrot Through all thick and thin And noticed the desire to follow it Was a fire growing within

His Master would feed him The prize of a Carrot At the most opportune times And based it on his merit

He’d eat it and eat it And noticed the land The land that he traveled By his Master’s Hand

He was amazed and so grateful For the distance he walked Cared neither the mileage Nor time that he clocked

His Master did promise him If he’d always follow the Carrot Eternal life and heaven He would definitely inherit

The donkey did ask Him, “How would I know it’s Your Carrot?” And the Master replied, “Peace, love, and joy are always near it.”

The Master continued, “This lesson should never cease, That no one or nothing Is worth your soul and your peace.

No matter success or failure, Win, draw, or loss, You must always remember this: Your Carrot is your Cross.”

No matter what happens Don’t let your duty escape you like Houdini Even when and if the Master Changes your Carrot into a Zucchini.