first poetry

anonymous asked:

I love love your poetry, and your blog is filled with beautiful things. Can you recommend any good sapphic/queer poetry books ?

First of all, thank you very, very much. That means a lot to me!

Ah, let’s see. I’ll recommend particular poems and books:

the type of people the world gives you - 

light:

  • glows when they talk, dewy eyes, radiates with a blessing from the sun, calm in the air and goodness in their hearts

ocean: 

  • bodies full of stories, a will that ebbs and flows, lazy smiles, no real devotion to anything but existence itself, wordless lullabies

earth: 

  • minds like caverns, hands like stone, to hold or to hurt, heavy irises, earthquake tempers, stubborn desire for constant reconstruction

poison: 

  • an inexplicable sense of sharpness, hot tears, decaying cores, irreversible tornadoes and infectious whispers
It doesn’t have to be Spring for you to bloom.
—  It’s been said that Spring is the time of new beginnings. Enjoy it, but make sure to remember that you can have a new beginning any day, any time. // @maxwelldpoetry
aries - the buzzing sound of neon, sparklers, red velvet, spilled ink, fogged up windows, fire dancing, city lights

taurus - dust storms, tumbleweeds, fireside lullabies, the sun breaking through barren tree limbs, dried up flower petals, worn out boots

gemini - sleepovers at the bayou, cracked mirrors, lucid dreams, psychic parlors, lavender, hotel hallways

cancer - paper cranes, the city reflecting off the pavement after it rains, dripping honey, fields of wildflowers, hazy mornings

leo - paint splatters, buzzing bees, bright beach towns, cinnamon, walking out of the movie theater into bright sunlight

virgo - pomegranate seeds, film noir, silver bullets, seagulls & their riddles, skylight roofs, vials filled with healing herbs

libra - dandelion fluff, slow dancing in your bare feet, curtains fluttering from the open window, rainy sunrises

scorpio - a ghost town after midnight, spiderwebs, elixirs & potions, shades of red, obsidian, an emptied out swimming pool

sagittarius - war paint, harp strings, a bird’s loose feathers, burned out light bulbs, mushroom rings, letting your feet hang off the edge

capricorn - snowfall, marble statues, ivory, a quiet unbecoming, the scent of vanilla, black & white polaroids, white ink tattoos

aquarius - aquariums, wispy clouds, jewels for eyes, sea salt, lava lamps, a siren’s song, renaming the constellations

pisces - watercolors, swirling skies, rose petals, sea shells & the way you think you can hear the ocean on the other side, strawberry fields
—  associations with the zodiac signs (version two // version one), angelea l.
Well, you’ll break his heart and he’ll break yours. But you won’t forget each other, even if one day you walk past him and neither of you acknowledges it. That’s the thing about first loves, you never forget them, they are the only person who gets your whole untouched heart. They get all the love you’ve saved up for this moment and they get to keep it forever. You may never speak again but you can guarantee that you can still picture his eyes looking into yours as he said those three words, the way he kissed you afterwards and couldn’t stop repeating those words over and over until you were both too tired to speak. However you’ll also always remember the last time he said those three words, and told you that he was going to come back for you, the way he made you believe that a happy ending did exist for both of you. Those memories will come back to you in waves, all the firsts and all the lasts, the good and the bad, but what’s important is the fact that your first love is just that, the first but not the last.
—  from me to you
A friend of mine once told me that we never forget the people we’ve loved. Whether you’re the heartbroken or the heartbreaker, the cheated on or the cheater, if you really loved someone, you’ll never forget it. You’ll never be able to fully remove their fingerprint from your heart or the feel of them from your hands because you’d already allowed them to become that much a part of you. Their name will always cause a stir inside of you, and even if you reach a point where you can ignore it, that flutter will never go away.
—  🖤

“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?

No, wait.
That’s asking too much —
after all,
this is only our first date.”

—  Andrea Gibson
You really fucked me up, you know that? I constantly type messages and go to press send, and then remember you don’t actually care. I constantly looked down your street everytime I drive by in case I see the tiniest bit of you, even though I know you wouldn’t do the same. I constantly look at photos of us and remind myself of memories, and I know that you wouldn’t dare to even think of them. I constantly remember every detail about you from your blue eyes to your horrible laugh, and you don’t even give me a second thought. That’s the difference between me and you, that was always the difference between me and you. I treasured every possible moment I could because I thought it was forever, you didn’t because you thought of me as an object that would pass time.
—  I’m tired of feeling this way

Bravery is more powerful than perfection
Is this something you sense?
Your tangled thoughts being silenced
Is worth not taking a chance?


Bravery is more difficult than perfection
Is this something you find?
Painting the entire canvas
Is harder than colouring between the lines


Bravery is more honest than perfection
Is this something you rejoice?
While the world demands perfection
Being brave frees your voice


Bravery is more creative than perfection
Is this something you know?
The fear of failure stilling your pen
Keeps your inner world from being shown


Bravery is more beautiful than perfection 
Is this something you see?
Facing the world as your flawed self
Is the most beautiful you can be

—  Bravery > Perfection
I’m not really sure what to write about anymore. I write what I feel, and I haven’t felt anything lately. I don’t feel empty, I just feel nothing. Either that or I feel everything at once, it’s hard to tell. It’s like drowning, but in oxygen. It’s like everything you’ve ever loved is right in front of you, but you can’t quite reach it. It’s being in a room full of people and feeling so terribly alone, it’s the unbearably loud silence. It’s pulling on your hair at 2am because you’re not sure why you’re crying. It’s everything. But it’s nothing.
—  depression, what a fucking hypocrite

maybe we all have that one person that we’d always take back. bruised mouth, bloody ribs, you’re screaming at me and i’m taking it because no matter how bad it gets, there is always good to follow. and that’s what a lot of people don’t understand, the people who ask me why i can’t see the signs of an unhealthy relationship, why i can’t just walk away - that the good days outweigh the bad ones. i would walk away from you screaming one thousand times just to fall into your arms at the end of the night. i’ve learned how to catch your punches. i’ve learned how to find the beauty in pain. and i know: i should find happiness within myself or at least within people who are good for me, but i can’t help the way i feel and i can’t just leave something that makes me so happy. i will take you back until you literally throw me away.