#barely poetry

[the-with-can]

i sit beside the river blue

and stare into the sky

wanting an answer

from the gods above

why did you make us this way?

why do they hate us?

why do they kill for the luckier?

why cant we be happy again?

as i cry into the river blue

and as my tears drip from my face

no one answers

but loud rushing water

[livloiterlost]

624

i don't think i ever had flawless skin. like i was born covered in scars. ripped from my first home, screaming at the harshness of the word but already cloaked in scrapes and cuts and bruises. small and red, so so angry. feeling completely wrong. sometimes, i still feel that way. i wouldn't be surprised if i died having barely grown from that at all.

[bone-breaking-i-love-yous]

What’s it going to take for me to feel something again? I think I lost my hope that there must be something more than this. It’s hard to dredge up enough of the pain to turn it to poetry. I feel stuck in a state of temporary. Everything is temporary and leaves so quickly, before I’ve been able to bring myself around to love it properly. I’m tired. I think I’d rather they just stop coming around. I can’t feel much of the love anymore. The last scraps of love I have to give looks like giving every piece of myself away like spare parts turned to scrap metal. I’m barely walking my way through life, dragging my feet into the next day. I’m grateful for my anger, to remind me that I can still feel.

At the end of every day, my only constants will be the dishes in the sink and that great big grey void.

[monster-judgingon-thehill]

something I wrote last night. I'm not a writer by any means but this is what my brain was thinking. and I wanted to share it cause that feels like it would heal me a bit. to be honest about myself. opening myself:

I am the ocean lying in wait to be discovered. I'm salt water tears. I'm waves coming into shore, pushing parts of me forward and hiding back the rest. I wish to be perfect lyrical poetry but I only exist in prose. I try to be simple and easy to read in a glance but to know me you have to read every word and I fill up full pages. I'm a book on a shelf but I scream that I'm only one page. Someone picks me up and I say I'm just the cover. They carry me around but they never open me, as I have told them there is nothing else in side. "Let me see the light!" my pages cry. But I no longer hear them. I start to believe I'm just a cover. It gets dark and I search for a light. I flip every switch but even with every light on things are still dark when you have your eyes closed. "Open them then." I'm trying, but I dont know if I can. I don't know if I even have eyes. My eye lids are rusty. I want to open myself up but every page is stuck to the next.

*warning I haven't had a bad life but I have seen people self harm, and I've seen people try to commit. there's mention of death. there's negative thinking that corrupted my view of others. there is also some repetition*

I carefully try to pry each page apart but I don't even know where to start. I guess the first page? The page I get separated is a few pages in. It's a little smudgey but I can see some words. Its a list titled Me : "protective ... attached ... angry ... loyal ... nurturing ... telling lies ... trying to be loved ... trying ... trying... trying .... " I go to flip the page but the page before it separates. "Grandma, she's in bed, she's always in bed. I would hate to always be in bed. Can she see me? no. What's it like to live a without sight?" I turn to a few pages later. "I'm in Grandma's bed. She's not. She finally left the bed. She's gone for good. I can't sleep in my own bed. I can't. I'm not sure why. I can't leave her bed. I don't want to ever leave this bed" I flip a few more pages forward. "I don't have freinds. I could.. but.. I don't trust them. Oh? My mom has to watch kids? oh- I trust Cora..   ....   Cora is my best freind. I like Scout but I don't trust her. ...   ... Scout doesn't like me ... Cora picked me over Scout. I would pick Cora over anyone. ... Cora and I are close. we create minecraft worlds together!" I flip a few more pages and.. Oh.. My heart drops, because I know this page very well.. "My brother's hurt. I see flashing lights. My mom goes with my brother. My dad stays with me until a car comes to get me. My dad goes to see my brother. I'm at Coras. My brother is at the hospital. Cora tries to help but she doesn't fully understand. My brother's hurt. He did it to himself. I'm scared. My brother's hurt. I didn't know I had to protect people from themselves.. I trust no one. I need to protect those I love. I can't let anybody be upset because that puts them in danger. When people dont feel good that means they will try to die." I don't read the rest of the page. I don't want to look at the page again. I already know it too well. It's burned into my mind. I dont have to read it, because I always feel it. Its bookmarked. I go back to it every day. I can't let it go. Sometimes I feel like I never left this page. I flip a few more pages. "Cora hangs out with other people more. She doesn't talk to me around her new freinds. She's much more interested in them then me. I'm not interesting. She's picking them over me.. I would have picked her over anybody. I'm stepping out of her life. She didn't pick me. I'm letting her go. She hates me. I'm not good enough. ... ... ... Cora's mean to Abby? Dad says Cora shouldn't have made me feel not good enough? Was Cora mean to me? I'm moving on... ... I'm moving on... ... I'm moving on ... Am I moving on? Am i moving? ... I don't do much.. I don't leave my grandma's bed.. I think I'm sad. I'm not sure why I think that. I'm not sure why I would be sad. I say 'I'm fine' because, surely I am. I don't really feel, so I guess it's not bad. I cry myself to sleep. I'm not sure why. I've been doing this for a long time. I'm not sure why. I don't tell anyone. I'm not sure why. I begin to shut my eyes. Or maybe they were already shut? I'm not sure why. I can't see. I'm not sure why. Could I ever see? 'I'm blind.' I tell myself. I'm not sure why. I learn to live without sight. I'm not sure why."

This makes me stop reading. Oh- I'm not blind? And wow, that is crazy. I used to see? I closed my eyes? I closed my eyes. How did I not remember closing my eyes? It's been years since I opened them. They're still there. I can't believe they're still there! My eyes are tired of reading my book so I take a break but.. I'm going to keep my eyes open!

[sadmages]

Finally found a bit for my Durge

[creekfiend]

alfies been playing stardew valley and we were talking about who to marry and I was like oh elliott is my forever husband he's such a fucking weirdo but over a few days it slowly became apparent to me that im barely reacting to this character as he actually exists in the game bc I kept being like "oh yeah I also hate his marriage dialogue I simply don't listen to him. I'm like that's nice honey go listen to the wine ferment in the basement" and Alfie was like. does he do that. and I was like well. I think he does

[thereal-true-ogilvie]

codependency of a recovering child soldier // or: I thought about ctommy too hard and got sad and made a webweave to cope

hyperlinked credits at the bottom!

image 1: b0nkcreat // samfannar // starpeace // pigsteprap // Fighter by Jack Stauber || image 2: air-so-sweet // 1ittlesunlight // cupcraft || image 3: Good-For-Nothing Boy by Kikuo English Ver. // Love Me, Love Me, Love Me by Kikuo English Ver. // temporarytemporal // Suck It Up by Maretu English Ver. || image 4: kaitrokowski // magpigment || image 5: mykaeba // sunlitmcgee // mertan-fake || image 6: ushirominya // yuker (deactivated) // magpigment // Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett // brainwroms || image 7: cemetarything // temporarytemporal // yeehawpim || image 8: Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths // introvertedppl // Everything, Everywhere, All at Once || image 9: Thus Always to Tyrants by The Oh Hellos // Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths // The Cave by Mumford and Sons // mourninglamby // theolddivorcedzukka

[stardotnet]

"goodnight my dearest friend"

poem in the first image by me. a small memorial for my digital camera that has slowly broken down after years of love & was finally put to rest today

(rip little red, 2009ish - 2024)

[lickthecowhappy]

"In The"

GOetry club prompt

Form: Blackout Poetry Source: The Illustrated Good Omens - Page 1

Weekly GOetry Prompt Repository | Main Poetry List

It was a nice big one. The angel of the Eastern Gate went down on the serpent. 'Oh Yes,' said the serpent. 'It must be bad,' reasoned Aziraphale 'hey,' said the serpent, 'you're actually good.' 'You've got to admit it's a bit long' said Aziraphale.

I apologize for nothing.

This poem is also available on AO3.

Weekly GOetry Prompt Repository | Main Poetry List

@isiaiowin @goodomensafterdark tagging @crowleys-bentley-and-plants for old time's sake

[fairydrowning]

Loving yourself is just going to the bookstores and reading there for hours while sitting on the floor or just baking cupcakes for yourself at 1AM.

[girlw-amermaidtattoo]

Soft as a whisper, they glide on the skin,

Nylons weaving secrets where touch begins.

A delicate shimmer, like moonlight on lace,

Wrapping my legs in a silken embrace.

The slow, gentle pull, a tease of desire,

Each thread ignites like a smoldering fire.

They stretch, they cling, they promise and tease,

With every caress, I fall to my knees.

Beneath their sheen, fantasies unfold,

A dance between boldness and a story untold.

Tantalizing and soft, they hug me so tight—

Nylons, my lover, in the glow of the night.

[serpentface]

reading all about the white calf, love your work, can i just say. gonna put some hibrides appreciation out there because damn. nobody in this story is lucky but she in particular seems to be having a Bad Time

Yeah a lot of things suck pretty bad for her. Unwittingly in a lavender marriage, mutual dislike between her and her dogshit husband, extremely strained relationship to her former best friend/gay quasi-boyfriend/father of her children who alternates between avoiding her and desperate attempts to make her love him again, having to constantly maintain multiple levels of facade to socially protect their throuple and therefore herself, shy and socially isolated, dealing with trauma that she doesn't even begin to recognize as such because 'nothing bad actually happened', pretty sure something is deeply wrong with her, living under a damocles sword of catastrophic social consequences should her children be exposed as bastards, has discovered an unexpected and mostly unwanted pregnancy while on a months long cross-country trek, etc.

She's also someone who prides herself in being rational, put together, stoic against adversity, and not overly emotional and weak, which basically means all of this is getting suppressed and compartmentalized away like crazy.

She HAS managed to fall into a rhythm with it all and her life IS NOT constant misery and agony. But the situation she's in for the duration of the story completely tears her out of this rhythm and makes all these factors very acute (though also opens her up to new opportunities, new and more positive/differently complex relationships, and much bigger things to worry about than her domestic life).

Unrelated drawing of her struggling not to lose her shit in public (in this case trying not to laugh)

[apoemaday]

Because We Love Bare Hills and Stunted Trees

by Margaret Atwood

Because we love bare hills and stunted trees we head north when we can, past taiga, tundra, rocky shoreline, ice. Where does it come from, this sparse taste of ours? How long did we roam this hardscape, learning by heart all that we used to know: turn skin fur side in, partner with wolves, eat fat, hate waste, carve spirit, respect the snow, build and guard flame? Everything once had a soul, even this clam, this pebble. Each had a secret name. Everything listened. Everything was real, but didn’t always love you. You needed to take care. We long to go back there, or so we like to feel when it’s not too cold. We long to pay that much attention. But we’ve lost the knack; also there’s other music. All we hear in the wind’s plainsong is the wind.

[decisions-at-3am]

I find myself calling you, By every name I've known you by. In hopes of finding the one That will bring you back to me.

[jacuzziwaters]

IM NOT SAD BECAUSE IM AROACE

IM SAD BECAUSE I WAS BUILT TO BE SURROUNDED BY FAMILY

BUT NOBODY WILL WANT THE SAME

AND NOBODY WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS

I WANT SUNDAY NIGHT DINNERS TOGETHER

I WANT MOVIE NIGHTS AND HOLIDAY VACATIONS

I WANT A HOUSE OF MY OWN BUT A PLACE TO CRASH AT WHEN IM FEELING ALONE

AND YET REALITY HITS ME AND I KNOW

I WILL NEVER BE A PRIORITY

I WILL NEVER BE THEIR "REAL" FAMILY

I WASN'T BUILT FOR THIS WORLD AND IT'S IDEA OF FAMILY

[eybefioro]

This is my submission for this week's GOetry prompt hosted by @isiaiowin and @goodomensafterdark

Does it count as a concrete poem? Probably not. Did I follow the prompt? If you squint... but I had fun so I guess it's valid LOL

There's a crack in my home

A small fissure that keeps on w i d e n i n g

I don't know when it first began,

Nor the first nail to

pierce.

Was it when my hand longed for

Yours among the soot

Or when I cherished your

bright eyes

Instead of the stars?

There is a rift in my home,

An open wound

Where I bleed away from you.

Tag list (tell me if you wanna be added or removed 💛): @howmanyholesinswisscheese @captainblou @crowleys-hips @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @hello-ello-ello @patoslover @ficreader500 @marika-misc @ghostsparrow @ineffable-rohese @lickthecowhappy @starry-eyed-darling @fearandhatred @nimbusalba @celticseawych @wibbly-wobbly-blog