#poetrygrams

[lisablasstudio]

Monday's image: May 22, 2023

Dmitri Prigov, Wherever the Motherland May Send Us, Ink and correction fluid on paper, 163 x 163 centimeters, 1978, Tate, U.K.

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[senlair]

Dancing on a Tightrope

Weakness is not a state,

Weakness is not a trait,

Weakness is not a result,

And weakness is not a cause.

Weakness is not submission,

And love is not weakness

Love is not weakness.

The despair he reached was wilting my once flushed heart,

Dancing to the erratic tunes of narcissism,

And I applauded him,

knowing there was no solution,

No cure,

no escape from the tightrope,

The tightrope where the acrobat balances, holding a balloon,

on a bicycle.

Let me explain: My light spirit, My slender body, make me the balloon,

The tightrope is my thoughts, on which everything depends, The bicycle is the imbalance, the illness,

And the clown :his eyes.

He has no real character,

so he couldn't stand firm.

The scene was sad,

Ideas built on a sickness,

with beautiful eyes

Above there was me

Suspended in the heights,

falling in love.

He quickly grew bored of me, before even getting drunk,

Discarded me, continued drinking,

then threw the bottle aside.

When you reach the limit

The limit of lying to yourself,

Of suppressing your feelings and laughing too loud,

The limit of being overwhelmed and exhausted

Call me

Not to fill the emptiness,

But so we can throw ourselves away together.

I am a traditional girl,

I love sitting on the ground,

And I love tribal dances,

I love everything the way our ancestors did,

So let’s go to a high,

empty place and jump.

When you first threw me away,

When you left me,

replaced me,

When you devalued me,

And when the tower I built crumbled to dust Let’s forget the tower was built from tiny domino pieces,

And forget that I was the one who let you in there.

I just want to lay all the blame on you.

The first time I gave in,

I remember walking into the bathroom,

Pouring boiling water over myself,

In the middle of August so much heat,

And yet, all that fire didn’t make me feel anything

because I was already burned... for you.

Even today, when I miss you, I sit hugging myself,

With the slender hands you once loved,

And I turn the hot water tap,

Cranking the heat until my scalp burns,

but in pouring that hot water,

I see you for a few seconds,

And as it runs over me,

I feel you.

if only for a moment

I feel your burning love, and all of you.

A fire that consumes me, reminds me of the worst I’ve been through.

A fire that burns me, makes me die a little more. Your love destroyed me,

may you go to hell.

Why do I see you on this earth, an angel walking in jeans?

Why did you trade true love for fleeting whims? Do you think my love for you was just a whim? Do you think I love and hate as quickly as you?

I told you, I am a traditional girl.

This is part 1, not sure about posting part 2.

[msafflictus]

Give Your All

[velvet-easter]

[kirthanasastry]

As a child I felt

The moon chased me

The subtle light falling 

On every step I take

he never failed a chance to disappoint

This small fragile heart  

It's the comfort I found in him

That I failed to find in most people

That surrounded me 

He healed the deepest scars 

Made by the ones who betrayed

Brought back the happiness 

That was once taken away 

A feeling of freedom under the night sky

The moon made me feel alive again

~K.S

[multasuntcausaebibendi]

i was writing poems every night gave them to him in cozy light and he thanked me with the biggest diss "Do I really have to read all of this?"

-multasuntcausaebibendi (poem: "i'm too much")

[writings-of-the-cosmos]

And I would choose you; In a hundred lives, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I would find you and choose you.

[inthenameof-art]

Everyday A little part of me dies. Something or the other skips two steps ahead and faces death in its face. I want to deal with this life but then again i am reminded of death. The time that is now is slowly walking away with a little life of mine. I am faced with the paradox of emotions, i am 24 yrs old now and that is all i have. Now. I dont have the future that i keep worrying about because it will never arrive, i dont have the past because its long gone. What I have is now. And when i think of it, i dont own this life, its not mine. Its borrowed time. A little while, to experience this big thing we know as life.

I am dying this very minute, if I smile while doing so, does that mean I am alive?

-Shifa

[sumoandmuso]

Writing the characters I live,

Or living the characters I write?

[ismailfazil1-blog]

Dast-e-talab by M.I.Fazil | Poems | Urdu poetry | Sufi poetry | ebook version

Spiritual Urdu poetry with Roman Translation for Urdu and Hindi readers.

[solesamor]

𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞 𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐧á𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳: “𝗩𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗼𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗹 𝗣𝘂𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗻”

Me siento muy emocionada por presentaros el quinto poema de mi proyecto literario con el que deseo honrar el amor puro que siento hacia la poesía de 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐧á𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳.

Agradecida de corazón me siento por hacerlo acompañado del emocionante retrato con alma titulado “𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗷𝗮” dibujado por la artista femenina sembradora de esperanza 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐂𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐒á𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐳 ( @tomihelechal ): la belleza que irradia desde adentro, me recuerda que la vida y el amor son para personas valientes que se comprometen . 🫶🏻

Deseo que disfrutéis del poema y del cuadro.

¡Feliz día a todos! ☺️❤️❤️❤️

Cada vez que siento

cómo el caballero del viento

me acaricia el rostro,

adentro de mi alma, yo percibo

cómo mis ancestros

de la Orden del Temple,

me alientan a cabalgar sin montura

sobre los siete valles,

para salir al encuentro

de lo que más anhela mi corazón:

tu amor y tu cercanía celestiales.

Cada vez que siento

cómo el caballero del viento,

me besa la frente,

Yo noto , adentro de mi alma,

cómo mi leona y mi loba interiores,

me alientan a aullar a la luna llena,

para pedirle

que convierta mi propósito

de volver a abrazarte

y besarte vestida rosa

bajo nuestros propios soles

en manifestación.

Cada vez que siento

cómo el caballero del viento

me sonríe, yo siento,

cómo mi corazón desnudo

y a flor de piel

me ayuda a reunir el valor necesario,

para llamar de nuevo a tu puerta

y decirte que, por favor,

me enseñes a amar,

ahora que sé que me amo,

ahora que sé

que yo soy merecedora de amor,

ahora que sé

que a quien amo yo es a ti.

(© Sol García)

[senlair]

sea

don’t want to fight in any battle.

I don’t want to earn titles.

I don’t want to belong to any sect or religion, and I don’t want to fight out of love for any belief.

I don’t want money or power, acceptance, or love from anyone.

I just want to lie on a high mountain for hours under the scorching sun, completely bare, until I start to melt.

I want to die while melting.

I want to melt, just melt.

I don’t understand the purpose of anything at all. Knowledge fades away, beauty fades away.

I don’t want anything from this life.

I want the sea, just the sea.

I want to love the sea until I become a part of it.

I believe that everything in this life is a distraction from my love for the sea.

Your glances that you throw at me here and there are not like the sea, which embraces me with its breeze whenever I feel suffocated.

And I can really talk to it whenever I want.

And it can love me as I float on it, alive.

[msafflictus]

Another you

[m-i-r-p]

Made an instagram page for my writing… it’ll probably be a bit more organized than over here.

I’m gonna post some of my poetry, fanfictions, quotes and idk tbh.

Come check me out if it sounds like your kind of thing!

[kirthanasastry]

Self Decay

I gave a lot of time

To people who poured poison

With actions and words

Trying to tag along with their actions

I gave them complete control of me

I feared to be left out 

Trying to avoid being pulled into the dark space

A prey to manipulation 

A miserable soul filled with frustration

Is what I had become

Circled in the same path of pretended love

Now I can mimic the act to be completely alive

When everything inside me is dead