December 2011
42 posts
2 tags
Night Owls
Such sin To retire Before the Moon does.
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Sometimes I feel like Doctor Frankenstein A beautiful mind Copacetic While my creations are pathetic Cause they say “You’re just a starving artist,” But I say “I’m better dead than heartless.”
My secret’s love and I’m telling it (You don’t have to buy, cause I’m not selling it) Without food I might die, Without love I was never alive
...
Spell your name with bands :3
lonelyvagabond:
nomorenowhere:
caticorns:
All Time Low Metric Arcade Fire Nine Inch Nails Daft Punk Augustana
Ari Hest Living Colour Eurythmics Xentrix Attack Attack!
jeez my name is not very good for bands 3:
Streetlight Manifesto
Electric Light Orchestra
Bright Eyes
Against Me!
Strokes, The
Two Door Cinema Club
Incubus
Animal Collective
Neutral Milk Hotel
aww yeeeeeee
...
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damngoodread answered your question: What is Poetry?
There’s no answer I could give you for what poetry is but I think without it I wouldn’t want to live anymore.
Me neither my friend.
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What is Poetry?
The entire world The microcosm of the mind
The music of my tires Rolling through the Mountains At midnight
The silver of The moonlight On the surface Of a stagnant lake
The cream Of her cheeks In the shine of Campfire light,
My fingers On her curves And the fire In her flesh
The rumble Of rain Mounting On the roof
The unnamable Ideas Feelings Emotions Realities Fictions Of everything
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Changes
This morning I stared at the clock For almost an hour, debating myself Whether to turn my phone off and sleep, Or get up and go into work.
I’m thinking about quitting, Finding a new job somewhere else.
I think I’m gonna shave my head Before I go to sleep tonight, And clip my nails down short Until I can’t scratch anymore.
No sado-masochists have Graced my bed lately anyway.
...
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A Starving Artist
Without food I might die, But without love I was never alive.
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jamiesueaustin:
Online Yale course in Contemporary Poetry.
http://oyc.yale.edu/english/modern-poetry
Someone shared it on tumblr today, but I can’t find the post now.
Awesomesauce.
http://oyc.yale.edu/
Awesomeness.
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The Dead
Malerie would show up Ten minutes late Every single day, Dressed in a Torn t-shirt (Usually a nineties band Like Sublime Or Nirvana), And the holiest jeans You’ve ever seen, More safety pins And leather patches Than denim, And sit in the back With me and Lauren, Because even though She wasn’t as Intellectual As we were, She saw the mistakes We refused to believe That we could make.
...
This is the first drop of alcohol I've had in nine...
And it’s delicious.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.
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A Christmas Confession
I love Christmas, in theory.
I love when the weather turns And the air cools down And everyone seems A little bit closer; You can cuddle up To girls at parties, Close enough to Hear the champagne Bubbles in their breasts, And they don’t even Bother to ask why.
And the way people smile In the morning Just because You have a cup of coffee Or a bottle of beer Waiting for them When they rise...
Happy Holidays everyone!
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Assassination Challenge Places
moderateclimates:
These were the first, second and third places. These pieces were absolutely outstanding. I couldn’t help but feel moved at their writing. You are honestly stunning writers and please, please, please claim your pieces. Congratulations!
1st place:
Most assassins kill people. They watch the life drain from their victim’s eyes. They spill blood onto white carpets and leave bullet...
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Perpetua: November 18, 2011
Her name is Perpetua. It’s not the name her mother and father gave her nineteen years ago, but it’s the name she chose for herself, and so it’s the name I choose to call her. Once upon a time, her namesake stood before the Roman procurator Hilarianus, who had charged her as a criminal for not renouncing her faith. Today, she stands before the mercenaries of the one percent, who...
Open Wide
tiredfoxes:
answer this with a poem.
this isn’t a request, i demand it of you the way you pressed into me with your nail-scratched voice
“open wide”
if i broke open a teabag and the leaves scattered in our breath, they’d cling wet to your skin like freckles and i would connect the invisible lines they create with my tongue see how the saliva sort of sparkles there from the pink lamplight and...
sheddingpetals:
I saw a black rose shedding petals like clothes until all that remained was unrestrained raw and honest, a seed as stunning as the summer sun which hung above both that flower and myself and kissed our faces with ambitious sweat traces.
And with each petal dropped, My bold kisses never stopped, Holding tightly to the growth Of unnaturally...
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Zombie Girl
poeticallyundead:
That undead girl has been circling Streetlight alleys in my mind, Her wicked sideways smile Caught forever in my thoughts. I think she’s seeking something, But what it is, I don’t know: Some flawless flesh to feel Under her fingertips; A beautiful brain to Indiscriminately pick at; Maybe just a peaceful place To rest her tilted head; Bah, it was stupid of me To...
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Let's Get Lost
Let’s go drive into a city Neither of us really know, And walk around the streets At midnight, drunk, because “You never really know someone Until you’ve seen her In her darkest hour.”
Then we’ll go into the country, And find something worth burning, Then throw molotovs through The darkness of night Until the warmth of burning Something beautiful is enough To hold...
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The Madwoman in the Attic
“Let me buy you a Jack and Coke And scribble you a love poem On a bar napkin before I go Back to the world of the dead.”
“Why bother? You wouldn’t mean it, And your money is as useless As that cold dead heart you carry Like possession means mastery.”
“Then let me tell you a story About the first time I got high And had meaningless sex with a girl Behind the...
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Dedalus
Before he learned to drive, He rode a bike like a horse Pushing it up hills and Flying down the far side With the wind in his face And his muscles pumping Mechanically, dreamlike, High the way that coke Makes him feel today As he’s driving up the Mountain at three a.m. Dreaming of the day When he can stop Chasing the moon.
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undevelopedapathy replied to your post: PSA
im sorry :(
Thanks for the condolences.
PSA
My grandfather passed away this morning, so I probably won’t be posting for a few days.
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It's too early in the morning for this...
Ashley: Uh oh! Massie's putting on his moccasins!
Jessica: That's how you know shit's about to go down.
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My Life's Ambition
“My greatest ambition in this life Is to one day get paid To teach people to think About literature and poetry, Authors and poets, so that I can buy a house with a library, And every night I’ll go home To my library, my books, And my sexy little librarian.”
“That’s quite possibly The saddest dream I’ve ever heard.”
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Anon challenge results!
cafeofthedamned:
these were really entertaining, y’all. very well done. you took on the challenge of writing aimlessly with 500 characters and came out the other side a better person. hopefully. probably not.
since i didn’t say how i was going to rank them (because i’m sneaky) here’s how it works: everyone wins! hurray! you submitted, you won. cheap? maybe. but there’s no real prize other than...
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Capitalism is the enemy of individual freedom.
dagseoul:
from one of my favorite blogs:
servile-masses-arise:
Capitalists often cite individual freedom as a positive attribute of their system. Why is it that a system that produces mindless and bland conformity (as we all know from our experience of life) gets to pose as the champion of the individual?
It’s down to some basic fallacies. The capitalist says “you can go out and be whatever...
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Night at Area 52
There’s a Bottle of wine In my fridge and A bottle of whiskey In my freezer and A drumbeat In my head and And a girl In my bed and A fire In my stomach And a chill In the floorboards…
And that little growl of My father’s voice that Says I’m doing Everything wrong Begins to sound In my ears.
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You Don't Have To Be a Communist to Support...
I went to highschool With a crippled boy Who grew into a cop, Prouder of the gun He held at his hip Than of the diploma He discarded somewhere. He dropped out of college To become a cop, And today, he hates me.
I went to college With a troubled girl Who grew into a mom, Teaching her daughter To find a man With the money To take care of her. Her husband works, Leaving her to Criticize those who...
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Why?
Jennifer scans the barcode On the back of the Collected Faulkner I’ve just picked out, And smirks at me.
“You said that Faulkner Is your favorite, right?”
“He’s my inspiration; I want to learn his Crisp, beautiful prose And make it mine So that I can Be to my generation What he was to his.”
“I just can’t read him,” She says, dropping it Into...
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Arts and Crafts
I can never decide Whether poetry, Literature, Is an art, Meant to flow From me like River water From a spring In the night hours When my mind Is clear and pure, Or a craft, Meant to be Built, chiseled Sanded, Until my hands Are stained with Lead and shavings, My body and mind Exhausted Like a carpenter Building a chair.
Just Met With My Editor
She’s about 3/7ths of the way through What We Know.
a) That’s an oddly specific ratio. I’m kind of scared. b) She should be done with it by January. Which means I should be able to start submitting it for publication by February, assuming she doesn’t tear it apart too much. c) I’m excited.
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Teddy Bear *trigger warning*
Lynn was a shy girl, who grew into a not much more outgoing young woman. She always had nightmares, and so would go to school with that heavy cloak of fatigue wrapped around her. She had few school friends who were not bothered by that uncomfortable shell she wore, but then a year would pass and she would be transferred to a new grade, a new class, and new people who did not know about the...
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Teeth
I have a strange Obsession with Teeth, jaws, The way a girl’s Canines dig in And do or don’t Release; Nothing’s Better than a girl Who knows how To bite.
It’s not that Weird, despite What you Might think: Ted Hughes Fell in love With Sylvia Plath After she bit him At a party; True story.
I also have An affinity For eyes That are bright Like starfire, And deep like Ocean...
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One True Sentence
From this point forward Our histories interweave so that Despite the different journeys We have to take, your fate and My fate are the same.
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I'm Not
My phone Begins to Call me From the Side table.
“You’d drive out here Right now, If only I Asked you to, Wouldn’t you?”
Ruffling of Bed sheets.
“Of course. Without hesitation.”
Wind whistling Through trees.
“And if I asked you For all the money You had, you’d Give it all away, Wouldn’t you.”
Dogs barking, Cars passing By the Side...