ok so I’m going to leave out stuff that’s Too Obvious, which means a lot of this is niche (to me) or contemporary, and… I recently had a canary on twitter about how much ~*~modern~*~ poetry GETS MY GOAT. I’m reading a lot of New poets/collections this year purely because I… didn’t really read that much contemporary stuff before, and I thought I should branch out. (so far I’m dubious.) so, yes – obviously Plath, Blake, Hughes, Sappho, Eliot, Keats, Shelley, etc. etc. ad nauseum, The Greats, yadda yadda, here’s some others.
so far this year I’ve read (and ENJOYED - I’m not reccing the ones I wasn’t into/thought were pants, soz):
Letters From Medea by Salma Deera
Grief Is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter
Hold Your Own by Kate Tempest (I actually LOVED this)
Mouthful of Forevers by Clementine von Radics
War of the Foxes by Richard Siken (of YOU’RE SITTING IN A CAR WITH A BEAUTIFUL BOY, AND HE WON’T TELL YOU THAT HE LOVES YOU, BUT HE LOVES YOU fame)
I’ve also read and loved:
Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire
The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy by Tim Burton
The Curse of the Vampire’s Socks and Other Doggerel by Terry Jones
Love Poems by Carol Ann Duffy
Let Us Compare Mythologies by Leonard Cohen
my personal 10/10 all-time go-tos are:
Crush by Richard Siken (despite appearing on every single tumblr graphic between 2011 and 2013, it still gets me in the heart guts)
The World’s Wife by Carol Ann Duffy (which I have loved wholeheartedly since I was 17 years old)
pretty much any collection of Great War poetry: Up the Line to Death, Men Who March Away, Lads: Love Poetry of the Trenches (the Great War poets are my favourite. like, of all poetry, ever)
my favourite individual poems, as we’re on the subj, are:
Draco checked the recipe again, feeling foolish and proud of himself at the same time as he carefully mixed the cake batter. There was a small weight resting against one of his calves, accompanied by a persistent tugging, that he was only half paying attention to. Still, he made quick work of mixing the ingredients together enough for a toddler to take over.
“Papa, I help!” was being chanted in time with the tugging, making him sigh when he finally spared a glance downward. His bland, impatient brow did nothing to deter the eager, wide-eyed, and pleading look he was getting from his still baby-faced firstborn.
“I did say you’d be allowed to stir,” he told the boy dryly. “Are you ready to help me?”
I happily mention you in conversation to someone atleast once a week. When you text me I feel happy, never annoyed. Texting me means you were going about your day and remembered I exist, then chose to bring me along with you. When that happens I feel loved. It’s a win/win for everyone. I will give you my attention. If I’m not responding, that means something is happening on my end. It isn’t you. If the thought, “I shouldn’t bother her, she has enough to worry about” enters your mind, I would greatly appreciate you hulk-smashing it and coming to me anyway. I will let you know whether or not I’m in a place to listen. All you have to do is ask. You are important to me, exactly as you are. I chose to be friends with you because of all of the pieces that compose you. You’re safe with me. And last but not least, I will not share my french fries with you.
lukas: you can’t tell anyone about this lukas: *makes out literally everywhere with philip* lukas: *gets drunk and caught by the police with philip* lukas: *hangs out with philip all the time on the farm and in the city* lukas: *gets home late so both his dad and philip’s see they weren’t in school* lukas: yeah no one will ever find out if you don’t tell anyone this is foolproof i sw
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Summary:You and your neighbour Ashton never really got along until he decided to change that, making you two the most unlikely set of best friends. Both of you are dancing on the edge of desire but the question is, who will slip first?
Word Count: 1.8K
“Y/N, can you go grab the rest of the gear out the car please.” Dad was unravelling a bunch of stuff out of bags with Ashton whilst they spoke like a bunch of giddy teenagers. Currently they were unpacking the pile of bags they brought with them and assembling some sort of tents along with fishing rods, bait and chairs. What is it about men and camping trips? They always get so fired up over freaking nylon! I was making myself busy, and by busy I mean I was fiddling with my camera.
“Sure thing” I stood up and wiped my hands on my shorts before grabbing the keys and heading down to the car.
It turned out to be a lovely day today despite it being quite overcast when we left this morning. I’d put my shorts on anyway because it’d be nice to catch a little sun on my legs before the wedding. The sun was bright and high in the clear sky, signalling that it was midday. I could feel the nice warm glow hitting the top of my shoulders as I walked down the hill. There was a few people walking about around here, some of them had fishing gear like us and some had backpacks for hikes. This was always a popular spot for outdoor activities. The lake was a good size for fishing and there was woodland all around the tall landscape for people to hike and camp in. You could also find the odd cyclist and hunter passing through too, it was a really lovely place. There was something peaceful about being out here to me. I think it was because dad had always dragged me outside with him when I was younger, especially in the summer. The weather was much nicer over here in the summer than in England which he was thrilled about. He was one of those real outdoors-man, the kind that if the world turned post apocalyptic he’d be the guy you’d want to follow.