#my poetry collection write a poem about:

[gothic-grimoire]

Death Dust

⋆₊ ♱𓉸ྀི from my poetry collection Write A Poem About:

Death dust is the soil for everything else

Must be important to burst into flames

and become something like me

Wow, I love how it spins

ashes blow away and it begins

when the soil is ready and I am soft

a warm day will help me plant me.

The ghost of what I was before holds my knees—

feet down and pats with me.

Pats the seeds down and in place

but destined to eternally change.

Worthiness for me is like a tree.

My tree is blue and I feed it red wood to stay warm but not burnt

Happy hearted I’m there, happy hearted I’m there at all.

Worthiness is like a tree.

For me, a sapling

I could water it and not fumble the can, I could worry it would die on me, but even its ghost

wants to know me.

If I sit defeated on the curbside

I feel its ghostly tree branches hold me

happy hearted I’m there at all.

Worthiness is like a tree but even surrounded by foreign and family their bodies don’t crowd me. I’m alive. I feel the sun.

I feel the care, I feel the shun cold blue but hot red wood too.

I feed on it all and relax into the

cling to nature’s belly

listen ringing in the background

natures belly soft and round

I’m at home here my tree and me can be here

soften listen to the bell sing theres a place for each poet

each gentle bird that sings why not me why not my tree

otherwise there’d be no bother to bring me to life

to my tree eternally changing

to feel truth.

Nourishment enters my roots so let it

slowly return there just let truth feed you let change free you

be your own self clear the book shelf

for now be your own self (alive).

[secretsiwhispertothemoon]

Do you mind if I say—you are beautiful, like light spilling through cracks in the universe, a glow born before time began counting its breath. Seen from where I stand, you could be an angel, a filament spun from the first spark, wrapped in the soft shimmer of dawn breaking free. You're a prism that bends the sun’s pulse, shattering the simple into the infinite. radiance felt, like the warmth of stars in the bones, Do you mind if I say—your beauty hums in frequencies, my eyes can't catch, but my heart, my heart knows.

[swordatsunset]

Poem!

[amalgamationink]

NAPOWRIMO24 #15: Occultation

[hairtusk]

Sylvia Plath, 1957

[logophile-18]

This poem has a heart. You do not.

Where is my brother? My uncle? Did you kill them, too? (Is it my fault?) Father, walk with me, would you? (It’s no question. You must.)

Did you think twice before you shot them? (Were they just another heart?)

Dirty, dirty, dirty. The blood splatters on the dirt, sinking in as nothing more than water.

The problem stands here, unkindly: I am not just another heart.

Cover me all you wish, head to my wrists and ankles. But it will not change.

(We are still here. Our hearts are still beating.)

But theirs are not. Neither is yours.

I end, he ends. You don’t. (We pray that you do.)

This poem has a heart.

Can you hear it beating?

Can you hear my heart beating?

[hurryupmerlin]

Shhhh, hörst du das? Hörst du das Gemunkel? Um dich wird es dunkel. In deinem Kopf dreh'n sich die Gedanken Bringen dich zum wanken. Geschichten um die sich Dramen ranken Nie erzählt und doch gekannt. Oh, du lauscht gebannt. Die Angst der and'ren tut dir nicht gut Doch es nährt die Glut Die das Feuer entfacht, das dich anlacht, Einladend und warm. Es nimmt dich in den Arm Und verbrennt dich mit seiner Zärtlichkeit. Dein letztes Geleit führst du selbst an. Du hast dich entschieden Und wirst kriegen Was dein Kopf dir befiehlt das richtig wäre. Es ist dir keine Lehre. Du trinkst Gift wie süßen Wein Doch dein Durst wird nie gestillt sein. Armes Kind, wer soll dich jetzt noch retten? Das Schloss für deine Ketten Wiegt schwerer noch als selbst dein Herz. Du kannst nicht mit noch ohne Schmerz.

Shhhh, do you hear that? Do you hear the murmur? It's getting dark around you. Your head is spinning with thoughts. They make you waver. Stories entwined with dramas Never told and yet known. Oh, you listen spellbound. The fear of others does you no good But it feeds the embers that kindle the fire Which laughs at you. Inviting and warm. It takes you in its arms. And burns you with its tenderness. You lead your last escort yourself. You have made your decision And will get what your head tells you is right. It is no lesson to you. You drink poison like sweet wine. But your thirst will never be quenched. Poor child, who will save you now? The lock for your chains weighs more than even your heart. You cannot live with or without pain.

[justcallmeriah]

From one broken soul

To another

We have been the best

And the worst lovers

Our story was beautiful

Real and raw

But bountiful

We’ve seen it all

Given everything we’ve been through…

“I love you”

Means more

When it come from you

[salovie]

Most Wanted Treasures:

neat lines of years and letters,

a silver wish list—

worth more than cents and dollars

to the steadfast coin scholar.

The thrill of the hunt—

an old penny, shiny dime:

one more crossed-off prize.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 201

Adjective: Cruel

Noun: Hurricane

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Cruel: willfully causing pain or suffering to others, or feeling no concern about it; causing pain or suffering

Hurricane: a storm with a violent wind, in particular a tropical cyclone in the Caribbean; a wind of force 12 on the Beaufort scale (equal to or exceeding 64 knots or 74 mph)

[gothic-grimoire]

Necklace

˚₊‧⁺⋆♱˚₊‧from my poetry collection Write A Poem About:

I gave you my necklace 

to last as long as my heart does

Even when we’re done and you’re gone

I promise I promise

I will love you in the same way

that same pure allowed way 

indulged every fantasy 

until the walking dream called you to me. 

Now I’m about to be married 

and I still love you the same way 

the way that you made me

love you

I hold our link across space and time 

and it’s enough for me 

to love you like this.

I don’t want more 

I don’t think I ever will 

but I’m allowed to keep my love 

and you’re allowed to keep my necklace 

and I dearly love you

and I dearly love you.

[secretsiwhispertothemoon]

[brown-little-robin]

Summer Blood

[cntarella]

[Transcription: If I had known, would I have still made mistake/ after mistake until I had only the trunk of me/ left, stripped and nearly bare of leaves?/ If I had known, the truth is, I would have kneeled/ and said, Sooner, come to me sooner.]

"Against Nostalgia" by Ada Limón from The Hurting Kind (Milkweed Editions, 2022)

[rabbitmire]

I really like writing poetry because it just feels like chasing down the random connections that occur between thoughts. This can also make it harder to write without a second opinion though because with that kind of process you're bound to run into struggles discerning whether these connections make sense outside of your own contexts.

But sometimes it's just fun to use phrases that only vaguely work together but sound really nice to say lol

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

I need to go scream in a field or just scream along to some death metal right this minute