I just LOVED this line when I read this poem

Something Beautiful
by Emily Montgomery

for Chris

I wanted to save something beautiful for you.
The last three jewels of glistening pomegranate
balanced in the palm of my hand before I ate them.
The morning birdsong in the lemon tree after you left for work,
the memory of last night’s rain still written on the lawn.
Or earlier, the haunting roundness of the moon
over the canyon just before dawn when I couldn’t sleep,
standing at the window, looking back at you, your body
floating in the watery moonlight of our sheets.
I mean something really beautiful, my love.
The stillness in the house after the washing machine
ceased to hum. The last line from a slender book of poems,
a hardback from the library barely worn, repeated aloud for you,
its bitter sweetness still lingering on my tongue.
Or the way the baby slept so deeply while I read,
burying himself in the secret scent of his favorite blanket.
One arm thrown across that woolen teddy my mother gave us
in those final weeks of waiting before his birth.
The other hand open wide, fingers outstretched in a dancer’s
graceful, expectant pose. I wanted to save all of this for you.
But I couldn’t. It didn’t last. It never does.
That brief moment of grace when the ordinary shines so exquisitely.
At the end of the day you will return to us, as you always do,
and we will both be tired, empty, distracted, spent.
Everything more chaotic, more fragile, than when you left.

Happy Belated Valentine’s Day !

I will leave stains on your favorite sweater,
the ink will look like my blood and some days it is.
I have metaphors lodged in my chest
and my heart has found a home on my sleeve.
Every time we touch I will leave paper cuts on your skin.
And when we are in bed
and you are watching your favorite shows,
muttering the best lines to yourself.
I will be a million miles away
frantically scribbling today’s thoughts in a notebook.
At 3 am when you awake to an empty bed
and a house alive with the sounds of a clicking keyboard,
you will ask me to come back to you.
Please understand that I can’t.
Not just yet.
I have too much to say
and I’m always forgetting.
This is not to say I don’t love you.
These words are my heartbeat,
these words are my bloodline.
I’m giving you these poems.
Read each one carefully.
You will hear I love you in every line.

Girls you know I love you
You know I trust you
You know no one is above you
You know I can’t get enough of you
My dream girl to the last
You know all about my past
You know me better than anyone
You’re far from a no one
Reading my poems in your spare time
I just wish you were mine
I just wish you believed me when I called you fine
I just wish I wasn’t the last in line
Miss red dress
Miss dressed to impress
I don’t want her to be next
I want you to be the only one I text
Just give me a chance
Just give me your last dance
I still have your number one speed dial dial
You’re still the only one who makes me smile

talentedmrsean  asked:

Hey! I just ran across your page and was reading some of your poems and I really liked a lot of the imagery. But I always think it's neat to like know where the writer was coming from and thought it would be cool if you'd share like what some of them mean to you? Like I read your poem 'Days' and loved the last line about the distance of winter being the only thing to fight for. So I was wondering if what was in your head when you wrote it? Did you think of it as a happy or sad line?

Firstly, thank you :)

But I actually find it really difficult to dissect my own work. I mean, sometimes it comes with a specific feeling, but sometimes I just write without thinking (free writing I guess). Days was a while ago, but is one of those poems that I remember the feeling well. So, I see it as a happy line, I see fighting for something that is yet to arrive as optimistic, but I understand how it could be read both ways.

anonymous asked:

this is random but i just saw a poem written by the user artceae (i discovered her blog when u rebloggd something from her actually !) and it reminded me of u ! i always have to think of u when i read it esp a line that is like 'by the soft and powerful body of hers' becase that's what i see when i look at u milly ! xx u are so strong and beautiful

Oh my gosh this is so lovely! Wow. @artceae look at this!!! This is so kind of you and what a beautiful thing for you to say. Thank you so bloody much. Wow, thank you greatly. Thank you so damn much. You are too lovely

anonymous asked:

So this is a bit random and hopefully not creepy, but we watched Dead Poets Society in my creative writing seminar today and I thought of your fic when they read from "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" (of course) and it reminded me just how much I love and cherish that fic. So, thank you for in two instances putting a smile on my face, at least. I hope you had a lovely day :)

Definitely not creepy! I’m touched that you thought of my story. I love that poem, and it’s given me titles for three works in this series now. Sadly, I think I’ve run out of lines I can purloin for my own purposes, at least for now. 

Thank you so much! This message definitely has made this a lovely day.

Here’s the poem, for those who aren’t familiar with it. I bolded the lines I’ve already used as titles and italicised the ones that have promise for future volumes/chapter titles. 

To the Virgins, to make much of Time

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
 Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
 To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,         5
 The higher he ’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
 And nearer he ’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
 When youth and blood are warmer;  10
But being spent, the worse, and worst
 Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
 And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,  15
 You may for ever tarry.