#poem noir

[lookingforwisdom]

To Have and Have Not / David Jibson

https://davidkjibson.com/

[flayedintheusa]

Stop.

Don’t act like you’re Big

In a small-minded world

When when mine was made

Shattered.

Don’t look at me

Like I’m the one

Who left you alone

Shattered.

Don’t come to me

Like I’m the one who

Took everything and made you

Shattered.

Don’t lift me up

When you broke me down

And made me to be

Shattered.

I had wants. I had needs.

I had hopes. I had dreams.

I became things I never wanted to be.

I took love and I took life.

And yet, I’m the one who died.

Small. Alone. Taken. Broken.

Shattered.

Dear everyone who ever let me down— B.H.

[whaliiwatching]

fake to real relationship speedrun record

[marimbles]

I know. (I feel much more than I speak.) I know you, you know. (I see you, sometimes, in the shape of my shadow, in the blacks of my eyes, in the darkest corners of my nightmares.)

She is. (She disappeared one day, but she was fading long before.) I won’t tell you that I never thought about it. (The promise used haunt me—a new reality, written to the shape of my dreams.) Of course I thought about it. (I still think about it, some days. The dream still makes me ache.)

But everything comes at a price. (The price is always blood, and that’s why we’re both bleeding.)

In order to bring our mother back, (She had green eyes, like ours.) someone else would have to lose theirs. (I like when people say I look like her. I like being like her, any way I can. Don’t you?) And that, I couldn’t wish on anyone. (We are the same weight, you and I. Both heavy with the ache of missing her.)

Me? I manage to go on living, (The ache will not die and neither will I. We’re a package deal now.) trying to be happy, (It’s harder than you think, and also easier. Smiles are born from such simple things—did you know?) as she wanted me to. (I think she’d be proud, if she were here. It makes me smile.)

I have my friends to comfort me. (On grayscale days they are the color. They paint me from the inside out.) I’m okay now. (I will be.) I’m as well as I can be, anyway. (It will get better. That’s what their colors tell me.)

It must be painful (I know the hurt.) for someone who doesn’t have any close friends, (I used to watch my window like a movie, looking out at the life I wish I had.) or anyone to comfort them. (The house was always cold. I’m shivering even now.)

(Someone like you, yes.) (Someone like me, not long ago.)

Only you can decide not to be alone. (If you reach out in the dark there will be hands to meet you.)

(I understand. I love you now.)

(Do you?)

[fragmentos-literarixs]

La vida es tan cruel que después de pasar una noche en donde tú eras el protagonista de mis dulces sueños, ahora tengo que volver a la cruda realidad donde tú ya no me amas más.

— Rose Noire.

[faiirygrahamdevanily]

🐉🦚🐈‍⬛Dear @ninadove, happy birthday!! I wish you all the best! May this new year of your life be filled with lots of precious moments, luck and wonderful times ahead <3

🐉🦚🐈‍⬛As your birthday gift I made a moodboard + wrote a poem dedicated to your and @paracosmicat fanfic 'Shadow Strike'; an absolute masterpiece of a fic!! I will never be able to fully express how insanely epic this fic is!! Everyone should read it <3

🐉🦚🐈‍⬛crossposted this on ao3 but adding it her on tumblr as well (thanks to @bittersweetresilience for proofreading):

[strangestarlighttrash]

[grain-de-rien]

Le rêve et la Mémoire

Chapitre 1 : Esquisse brisée

J’ai comprimé ma vie dans une poignée d’années. Sans doute un jour de pluie, gamin, égaré dans l’infinie contemplation de ses lignes. Captivé par

- Cette esquisse fragile et diffuse en coups de crayon rapides, dont les nuances révèlent un regard trouble et puissant comme un secret, un éclat saisissant voilé par une indifférence qui me fascine.

Inatteignable,

Je l’admire planqué le jour, et la nuit l’aime en aparté, Son emprise sur mes songes accrue par son absence.

Insaisissable, Une ombre discrète prête à s’effacer À chaque seconde, Dissipée par le souffle du jour. A tout moment. Pour toujours.

Contrainte à vivre en corps sur les restes consumés de sa vie entière... -

Grain de Rien, Le rêve et la mémoire, 2017 Illustration, Tess Azaela

[thensson]

love as a wound

Olivia, Dorothy Strachey || The Roots Around my Ribcage, Seyda Noire || Saint Catherine Drinks the Blood of Christ, Francesco Vanni || The Last Motel Before a Decade's Long Purgatory, Silas Denver Melvin || Roberto Ferri || The Stream of Life, Clarice Lispector || Underbelly, Nicole Homer || The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Guercino || The Encounter, Louise Gluck || The Waves, Virginia Woolf

[m1ssnovember]

If I suddenly don’t know who I am

I re read crime & punishment, the secret history, re watch detachment, blast stairway to heaven and the soundtrack to Kill Bill 1&2 and pulp fiction, have a matcha , eat some sushi, remind myself of my depression and trauma, experience some blood, pick a pomegranate to pieces, speak & learn Latin, write ♾️ poems

[lookingforwisdom]

Poem Noir

Dark City is the lead-off poem from the chapbook Poem Noir, a celebration of noir film in poetry. Dark City sets the stage for a parade of characters, plots and familiar settings. Inside you’ll find dark cityscapes and blind alleys. There are private-eyes, taxi dancers, thugs, mugs, crime bosses, night club sirens, crooked cops, gun molls and a morgue full of bodies. The best part is it’s a free…

[bootyshitter]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng poem, please?

Hi guys did you miss me and my poems?

Thanks for bringing me out of retirement

My friend

I might do this again. Enjoy

a little birdie from Paris told me that marinete got a beau..

who is it? I think you already know…

it’s Damian Wayne.

and by god did that put chat noir in pain.

but heh… what if she wasn’t in love, but merely insane?

cause the way I call him shat noir I just know he be shitting in those pants… Poo, pee, butt, crap.. call him the avatar of toilets

I got off topic

but the way Marinette turned into the joker is jojo crazy bizare

as she drives around Gotham in her hot pink car

how come she’s got the miraculous

and the way her and Damian Wayne together is so randomness

and this is her dark and twisted theme song.

In the daytime I’m marinette

Just an evil girl with a twisted life 😈

but I have a secret..

another day..

I’m back in Gotham…

but when I look at him. I’m SUPER ROTTEN!

he SHOOTS ME!!

I HAVE A GLOCK

Lookin at him like .. it’s murder o’clock 😈

cause in marinatte and I’m not ladybug …

IM LADYBAD.

And I got hella bands

No one knows the depths of my pain. The world is unaware of its own banality. I hide my rage behind a mask of sanity. I got one thing to say…

Bruce wayne spreads so many stds in Gotham it’s insaanity…

And the writer of this poem wants hawkmoth to

Save me… you sexy ass dilf do you like DICK?

Thank you!

[whaliiwatching]

gray evening in the canal boat

prompt: winter

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Victor Noir

Hello this is a poem thing I wrote about Victor Noir, don’t ask me why I just got randomly struck with inspiration

The story with the statue lowkey not so lowkey bothers me but anyway- I’m sure you’ll be able to hear that in this

And I’d just like to say, I know I post smut but I in no way condone the sexualization of real people especially DEAD people?! Anyways.

I hope you like it

I did not strike first

Although proud I’d never stoop so low

The Prince in an outburst for something venial

Hatred directed towards someone seen as menial

This gun aimed at my chest and for a what

A dispute that could be solved with clever words

One pull of the trigger and then my eyes would be shut

The outcry could be heard in France by all

In denial of your crimes you let the people weep

For the death of someone you made fall

I see here you’re the one who’s weak

They made me a monument a statue

A grave to be proud of in Paris

Unlike before, my name has value

This allows the people to undo

Any lies you told in malice

Truly i am grateful for its service

Now people come far and near to visit

My name is known world wide

I became the Paris golden ticket

Until the brides arrives

Please don’t touch me I’m an artist, a writer

Not a monument for you to paw at

Green turns to copper

Just like the rings on your fingers

My sister Juliet was ruined by your touch

Why would I want that

When your hands on me are all too much

Flowers lay between my fingers

Why would you place them there

All you want is for your eyes to linger

My artist left my eyes open gazing down

Not allowed to feel any rest

As people flood in from town

More focused on my beauty than the hole in my chest

You don’t seem to realize it’s always a test

They tried to protect me after death

Keep you away your superstition

I can still feel your breath

It lingers on my lips from your cry for fertility

What can I give you

Except something to pose with

That’s my only ability

[noirbeduzz]

"Then say not that you may not bear,

To shadow spirit light as mine;

I shall not shrink, or fear to share

The darkest fate if it be thine!"

— Letitia Elizabeth Landon, from Six Songs of Love, Constancy, Romance, Inconstancy, Truth, and Marriage.

[faiirygrahamdevanily]

��🐈‍⬛Dear Autumn @asukiess!! Already commented that the clouds above (opened up) on ao3 is THE paris special fic to me <3 an absolutely wonderful setting with amazing details and outstanding prose!!

🌧⚡️I made a moodboard + a poem dedicated to your fic! Crossposted on ao3 but placing it on tumblr as well. I hope you’ll enjoy (special thanks to @ninadove for betaing):