#Poets of instagram

[thisiwilldecidelater]

Saw this comment on Pinterest and I can't UNSEE it now.

[theartoffresco]

[antepaths]

[how long until you leave me here, telling yourself it is a favour? how long until my bones lay bare, scorched, powdered on the pavement?] - d.lg

poetry ig here

[vbbonny5]

Should I buy you flowers

When I never received not even one?

I will still buy a couple of them

In hopes of receiving

A bouquet from my only one.

It may seem one-sided

But perhaps my gesture

Will plant a seed of love

Soon blooming into mutual affection!

[moonfountain]

i want to do the complete opposite of gatekeeping

i wanna write a song or poem about a place i love and the whole world sees it and that place becomes a famous landmark of sorts because of the song/poem and everyone will want to go see it

kinda like the black dog by taylor swift or strawberry fields forever by the beatles

[writtenbyaloner]

In order to keep old wounds at bay, I must try to forget what has transpired in the past. But then, in order not to stumble again, I must remember it.

– Abdulsamad S. M.

[macieles]

how kind of my mother to pass on to me all of her birthmarks: the one on her right hip, the other inside her right thigh. the shape of her smile, the depth of her sadness. the lack of self worth enough to last us generations. the love for the women who came before and whoever comes next; who bear the same mark on their right hip and the spot inside their right thigh. the same downward tilt of the lips  and the awarness of their own faults that verges on false fabrications of the mind. i long for my mother's peace. i wish that by passing them down she could be rid of them. i'd bear the entire burden on my own if it meant she got to exhale for the first time in her life.

e.m. inheritance.

[tinajaxen]

Here’s to all the girls wanting young free love,

here’s to all the girls acting wild and crazy

to be proven right about this fight to feel the high!

Here’s to the truth in this should just happen for me

and men going oh yeah oh well

at fifteen or twentytwo.

Here’s to the I’m not giving it away for free

in a Hollwood kind of way, in a random

girl next door kind of way.

Here’s to the selfish photos of

maybe you want some of this,

but the echoes of fairytale

that’ll always be on the next page for her.

Here’s to two girls hanging out with their cats

listening to the same songs thinking simple dreams.

Here’s to the none of that that came to be

in delusional gone too far, and a fair call

for something bright burning clear

on the map of no one’s just a stranger,

anyone could be that passion right here.

[writerinthedarksworld]

I have so much rage in my veins, but what is the worst a poet like me can do?

Kill people with Love?

~L 🥀

[bloodintoink-blog]

What is my body but a vessel?

—𝓓

[thisiwilldecidelater]

Okay, but haven't you been true to someone all your life who have only been faithful to you when they lied?

[theartoffresco]

[takemetobogman]

support my art please :')

[poetryofjacobmoses]

Antisemitic Tropes, Stereotypes, and Assimilation Explored in Goodbye, Columbus

Antiquated portrayals of Jews were often used to characterize that which was undesirable. These stereotypes have long been mainstays among authors such as William Shakespeare and Charles Dickens. Aside from characters like Shylock from The Merchant of Venice and Fagin (“Fagin the Jew”) from Oliver Twist, there are also Neil Klugman and Brenda Patimkin in Philip Roth’s Goodbye, Columbus. These two…

[nilsgonenuclear]

You’re Not Here

Every day I wake up to

Adds scar tissue to the wound,

The pain never quite dwindles -

If it does, I’m a fool and I can’t feel it.

More often than not, I consider

Screaming at the sky,

Desperate for an explanation,

Why you ran out of time.

Through the circular motions I go,

It makes up for all that I don’t know,

It ticks the clock where my actions don’t,

Amidst spring, I wonder where the sun had gone.

And how can this world not shift and change

Now that you came about and graced its paths?

Where my optimism masquerades,

My anger had molten

And my worst nightmare becomes if you went forgotten.

Because I remember the ping of my phone -

How it echoed through the room,

Filled it with love

Because the most important people matter

Once they’re no longer around to make you smile:

I hate every day that I took you for granted.

I remember the chasm opening up in my lungs

As I typed and typed,

Tried to make them see what I have,

How you should’ve never gone like this,

How it was too early for you to leave,

How with you,

The forgiving part of me died, too.

It’s achingly unfair,

There’s no grandiose lessons to learn.

Here I sit and stare

Willing you back onto the doorstep of my home.

If a God exists somewhere,

Can they tell me why did it have to be you?

Could I have done anything

To change how the story ends?

Stay one step ahead,

Say everything I wanted to say

Before fate snatched you away,

That afternoon in February,

I shrunk back into the child you knew me as,

I cursed and begged

Every single thing I did was in vain

Because you’re not here today

And every day without you is a sliver of hell.

-- T.L.

[presselle]

again, until you tire of me | 02272023

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