aka Dr. Baberaham.
Posts tagged poetry.
6. ‘i didn’t call him back because he likes his girls voiceless.’
5. ‘she’s beautiful but i don’t like to be around her for too long, she smells like loss
4. ‘i couldn’t love you, you were a small war.’
3. ‘i carry my fears on my body because i don’t want to leave them laying around’
2. ‘it’s not that he wants to be a liar, it’s just that he doesn’t know the truth.’
1. ‘she is lonely so she does lonely things’
- Warsan Shire
Love breaks my
bones and I
So I saw this
young couple making the same cute face
in a photo
and I think it ruined my day
Them being adorable like
five thousand puppies in Spring
And I’m not being bitter
I don’t mind cuteness. I don’t mind affection.
I enjoy Love Actually for Christ’s sake
It made me cry once
I just wish happy people lived further away
on an island somewhere
where they can dance and write sonnets
and pronounce their boundless love
while drinking wine and actually savoring it
and actually enjoying it
and not pouring it down their throats
until they fall asleep on a carpet somewhere
Let them go live on an island somewhere
Some of us are trying to listen to a lightbulb
Of everything I have seen,
it’s you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I’ve touched,
it’s your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.
What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don’t know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.
It will be the same
as it has always been
and you are right to pack
your heart in ice
if you believe this.
I am old when it is fashionable to be
young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the fairy power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
oh precipitation i’d rather
keepsake ponds & barely lakes – terra firma & her clay
take from dropped rain kindly; committed to your cry.
through me you i’d rather-
condensate with my blood & time.