#Poetry or something
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best I’ve read in a while
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oh if we make it to another july
friends we’ve grown to know pass us by
oh if we make it to another july
we’ll unlearn every esoteric lie
oh if we make it to another july
i might just cry from the time gone by
if we make it to another july
people change like the weather
you know that better than me
your eyes like spring, words like water
i’m a hopeful daughter of a hopeless man
say you can’t kiss me but do it anyway
“just a kiss” you say, a kiss it will not stay
if we make it to another july
oh if we make it to another july
you’ll know it all better than i
oh if we make it to another july
you will not look me in the eye
oh if we make it to another july
it will taste as sweet as cranberry pie
if we make it to another july
- another july (if we make it) by me 30/07/24 💌
#goodbye july 🫡#my poetry#kates writing#kate’s poetry#poetry#poem#writers on tumblr#writing#writer#poems on tumblr#poems and poetry#original poem#short poem#poets on tumblr#poetry on tumblr#poetry or something#writers and poets
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do what you wanna do despite how long it will take
the time will pass anyways
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A Terrible Rat
My life is a labyrinth
And I am a terrible rat
Repeating the same wrong turns
Always and only obvious in hindsight
I can see the way out
But my mind always slips
And I am lost in the labyrinth again
My life is a labyrinth
And I am a terrible rat
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hearing the line "it hurts to remember. my head isn't built for that." in the same month that i heard "i'm sad again, don't tell my boyfriend. it's not what he's made for. what was i made for?" will actually make me go insane i want to scream i want to throw up i want to punch something because remembering hurts so much and nobody seems to understand it but then sometimes people manage to put it into words
#the grief we hold inside#it hurts so much#billie eilish#what was i made for#barbie movie#barbie 2023#barbenheimer#good omens 2#good omens#neil gaiman#archangel gabriel#poetry or something#big feelings
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In another universe we’re sitting in a diner eating waffles.
In another universe I’m laughing as you try (and fail) to get my dog to stop barking at you.
In another universe you meet my best friend and she warns you not to break my heart (no no no she’s genuinely very sweet. What do you mean? No she wont hurt you omg she just says that. Don’t worry about it, she’s just protective over me).
In another universe i drive you around my hometown and show you just how boring small towns are.
In another universe we finish the movies on our list.
In another universe i see pictures of you and the only feeling in my stomach is butterflies.
In another universe you let me read to you as we sit in the park.
In another universe…
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I miss french....
Sorry I’ve had not much time to artwork lately due my work, but here I have emotional but wholesome poetry! Oh well sort of at least I’m trying I’m better at illustration work than poetry ok! *blush* I just know that his came from the depths of my lonely and tortured soul and I’ve spent 2 hours crying after writting it, so please go and read it! XD
They think that due not being from there,I have no right to
People arround me, don't understand why I do it
But I do
I miss french
the way one misses an unrequited love
A family member who passed away
Or a friend you cherished
but later you realized
that he was a mean person
I miss french
The way I miss sunsets by the beach
playing with my siblings
when we were kids
the way I miss my childhood that is now gone
and the dreams I had at those old times
about being hired by dreamworks
akama studios or disney
or one day working with Miyazaki and Takahata
I miss french
the way I miss my first love
And my first intimate time
that I gifted to my exboyfriend
and for which he didn’t give a dime
The same way I miss my innocence
my self-steem my self-confidence
that he took away with his violence
I miss french
The same way I miss the glory days
of my adolescence
when my parents loved me for who I was
And we all though
that I had a great future as an illustrator
And animator
And they din’t called me a looser
I miss french
Like something who was taken away from me
since long time ago
Something I cherished so
Deep in my heart
and I know it will never come back
Because it was never there for a start
...But in my heart it always was!
#late night ramblings#late night rambling#poetry or something#i'm feeling emotions again#i'm feeling so lonely#this comes from the deepest of my soul please read#emotional poetry
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"you haven't found the right person"
well that could be it, but what if I know exactly what love feels like because I am an aimless lover every day, for a soap dish, a clean shirt, and all general aspects of life? Maybe I'm so in love that I'm happy without the romantic kind.
if you're lonely I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean I'm unhappy. maybe you should try sailing alone around the room, imagining occupants for the chairs that no one sits in, and learning how to read a poem.
live your life and do things with yourself and the world. study the art of drowning.
This has been an advertisement for Billy Collins.
Poetry: better than sex.
#and now the weather#billy collins#poetry or something#love#Idk sometimes my heart feels as strong as love#but for something else#and this man gets it he does#Please stop pitying me when I say I’m single#when did tjst become a bad thing?
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what do you think heartbreak feels like?
It feels like
banally burning/desperately drowning,
fathomless fury/destructive desolation,
a Gorgon's glare/Death's kiss,
holy water/sulphuric acid,
violent validation/rotten rejection,
insidious introspection/revolutionary retrograde,
the birth of a supernova/the death of a star,
an axiom of Aristotle/a prophecy from the Oracle,
the opening of Pandora's box/the entry into Noah's ark,
the sea parting for Moses/the Govardhan mountain resting on Krishna's little finger,
the doomed romance of Romeo and Juliet/the virulent vengeance of Hamlet,
the stitching up of Frankenstein's monster/the tearing of Dorian Gray's portrait,
the fury of the twelve Olympian Gods/the mercy of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,
lightning without thunder/thunder without lightning,
a severed finger/a scratched eyeball,
a myocardial infarction/a cerebral haemorrhage,
an unkind life/an unkinder death.
#poetry#original poems#original poetry#poets on tumblr#heartbreak#spilled ink#spilled poem#poetry or something#poetrycommunity#poetsandwriters#original poem#poetic#poets corner
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and after the sadness has been carefully extracted from my body,
and as the wound is carefully sealed,
it leaves nothing but a vacuum of emptiness beneath my skin.
i leaves nothing.
who am i if not sad?
was the space not meant to be filled with happiness before being stitched closed?
how long before i start injuring myself? to open the wound? so that it can be filled?
because i cant bare the emptiness.
i would rather be full with sadness than empty.
i cant bare the emptiness.
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i guess maybe i would've said goodbye differently if i knew it was the last time
hugged you tighter
cried even more
would you?
i still stay up at night wondering who left who
and surely i wasn't the same to you as you were to me
cause relationships like that don't break so easily
hello
please be okay
#poetry#poems and poetry#original poem#poetry or something#art#my art#original art#original work#poems on tumblr#writers and poets#writing
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Photo
[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”
#dinosaur#evolution#comic#prehistoric#animal#wildlife#paleontology#biology#poetry#comics#original#my art#archaeopteryx has no direct living descendants i know#but i wanted something aerial and the dinosaur to bird connection is classic and well known anyway#also the chicken over any other bird is very on purpose#its the mix of truth and comedy and genuineness and the fantastic in the mundane#its me asking you to see something so wonderful in something taken so un-seriously#and to love it both ways#also the jurassic park thing#where someone saw the reconstructed gait of a dino#and said. hey hang on. i know that walk.#and pulled up footage of a chicken walking#which jumpstarted the entire study into the link between dinosaurs and birds#in the end take whatever you want from it i just thought id provide some insight#i always like it when other artists do#the point is that i enjoy when people laugh at the end and when they dont#and i like it when they cry. i like it best when they both laugh and cry. eeaao intent#anyway mourn your losses but to live is to change#also hi guys i finally figured out tipping after 5 months so no more annoying ko-fi link#the antidote to despair is awe
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In another universe I’m still 5. I’m sitting on the back porch playing dolls with my neighbor. I haven’t met you yet and hopefully this time i never will. I’m happy.
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I ignored the presidential debate today.
I was invited to a party for a colleague, and I brought chips and fancy mayonnaise and a homemade syrup to mix with tequila.
This was not an act of political ignorance, but of personal survival. Making guacamole in my boss’s cramped kitchen, ideating for conferences, forging and reforging bonds of collegiate friendship; it was an evening of generation, creation, movement, and strength.
The debate, I hear, went nowhere. Moved no one. Strengthened nothing.
I would rather be in community with those who want to listen when I open my mouth.
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This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
-t. s. Eliot, “the hollow men”
these are my goats. They’re not connected to the apocalypse. Just to get your attention and make you think about getting older. my goats are getting older.
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A Day Before The World Ended
A day before the world ended,
I woke up as the first rays of the surreal sun hit the grieving glass of my windows.
When I sipped on my morning tea, I let a few drops spill over my knuckles to my elbows.
A day before the world ended,
I took a wistful walk down the lanes of the neighborhood I never explored before,
And bought a pack of Boomer bubblegum from the guileless grocery store.
A day before the world ended,
I strolled through streets surging with sycophants and alleys adorned with anarchists,
Reached the temple swarming with salvation seekers, and took a detour towards the cathedral.
A day before the world ended,
I positioned myself into one of the pensive pews and sat praying pondering,
And picked apart all my philosophies till my perspectives and postulates lost all meaning.
A day before the world ended,
I stalked a stray kitten till it reached the nearest dumpster and picked it off the ground.
We walked through racuous roads while there was nothing but chaos and confusion abound.
A day before the world ended,
I stepped foot on the flyover and caressed the rusted rail with no desire to jump off,
And let the pandemonium of the pandemic of panic conceal my calloused, cold coughs.
A day before the world ended,
I called up my first crush and told him that he was right and I was wrong.
I did end up falling in love again because I was supposed to fall in love with life itself all along.
A day before the world ended,
I wrote earnest, elegic emails to my family and friends and ended up sending only half of them.
I finally texted all my friends that I loved them, and ended each text with a "sorry once again".
A day before the world ended,
I finally completed the book I had left half-read back in seventh grade,
And cuddled with the cat I had picked off the street as the sun's final rays started to fade.
A day before the world ended,
I cooked eggplant for dinner because I didn't need to fear waking up with rashes the next day.
I put on a show from my extensive watchlist and went to sleep, finally not wishing to waste away.
#poetry#poem#poetic#poets on tumblr#original poetry#spilled writing#spilled poem#aesthetic#quotes#poetscommunity#poetsandwriters#original poems#poetry or something#poetry on tumblr#spilled ink
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