#poetry about a friend

[poetryofanewpoet]

a new friend

new things to recommend

my heart is filling with happiness

our lunch was decorated with chattiness

someone who gives and takes

not looking for escapes

just enjoying being here

no longer need to disappear

she asks good questions

and takes my suggestions

no sort of tension

we’re both paying attention

trying new food

“delicious” we conclude

let’s hangout again soon

I had fun this afternoon

-s.m.

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[avicecaro]

i think it’s important everyone knows about the little roman girl who died at only five years and seven months old, and her grave reads "dum vixi, lusi" or "while i lived, i played"

[shardofsun]

A friend convinced me to finally get past the tutorial stuff in FFXIV. Live Shard reaction to meeting Urianger

[non-conventionnel]

“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.” ― Elbert Hubbard

[firstfullmoon]

Sharon Olds, “Love Song, with Removed Cyst”

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

✨ I did my first poetry reading tonight !!!! 🥹🥹 ✨

[corpsentry]

love poem (typical)

[candiedspit]

About a friend : ELEPHANT MAN NO 81

[oneweek]

richard siken / chainsaw man

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[carebeardean]

🪻for when dying feels a lot like falling asleep, a lot like falling in love.

<3 fan playlist for from the airlock of your heart by @wordsinhaled , & stray by cutevamp

[sweetsweetperil]

Am I replaceable,

The words that I have said?

Is this love not enough,

To make up this messy bed?

Do my lungs not hold

The capacity to shift and bend?

Is this why you leave without hesitation,

My friend

[cinnamorwll]

𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜… ᕱᕱ

hii girlbloggers, i’m tony <33 i’m a seventeen year old boy but i swear i have thoughts!! like why Wi-Fi never works well when i need it most…

i love listening to music, reading, drawing, autumn, vintage stuff, poetry, fashion, self-care, pinterest, video essays, cartoons, hot chocolate, and writing my stories that i plan to turn into films in the future

music: boygenius, wallows, the smiths, inhaler, blur, cocteau twins, jeff buckley, hozier, ruel, lizzy mcalpine, fiona apple, lana del rey, ethel cain, laufey, reneé rapp, clairo, madison beer + plenty more!

actresses: audrey hepburn, shelley duvall, brigitte bardot, sharon tate, brittany murphy, dakota fanning, elle fanning, taylor russell, saoirse ronan & clara bow

movies: the secret garden, little women, a series of unfortunate events, dead poets society, mysterious skin, coraline, the lovely bones, lady bird, the secret of moonacre, the virgin suicides, uptown girls, matilda, aquamarine, the parent trap & studio ghibli movies!

tv shows: modern family, gilmore girls, gossip girl, the baby-sitters club, the vampire diaries, the office, brooklyn 99, tslocg, sex and the city, anne with an E, once upon a time, skins, the 100, over the garden wall, hilda & summer camp island!!

fav colors: preacher’s daughter brown, midnight rain navy blue & dark red ultraviolence (these colors are real, i didn’t make them up)

here i intend to post collages, “whispers”, things related to films, literature and some of the thoughts that keep me awake at night, like the fact that maybe i’m a lost poem by clarice lispector or a deer transformed into a human

thank you so much for reading, you can tell that i can talk a lot but i'm also a great listener! so please comment something so we can be mutuals and feel comfortable to DM me <3

[marmarbinx]

being a little in love with ur friends is like. in my chest I’ve carved out a little bedroom full of books and plants, and the sheets are clean, and the walls are your favorite color, and it’s reserved for you to come and stay whenever you please and leave whenever you like knowing you can always come home, because that part of me belongs to you, it has always belonged to you, it will never belong to anyone else, I want you, I don’t want anything to change, I need to know that you’ll always be here, I don’t want to tie you down, I would go to the ends of the earth for you, I’m happy if you’re happy, I have known you forever, we were strangers a year ago, I can’t imagine life without you, I love you I love you I love you

[9fruit]

notes on the below by ada limón, published in “the carrying” (2018)