i love white sand

BAD POEM on a BAD POSTCARD

I love to walk by the seashore,
On the clean white sand so bare,
I love to walk by the rippling waves
For I find refuge there.

I love to walk by the seashore
When a white fog’s in the air;
When a pallid mist o'shadows the beach
And no breeze is stirring there.

I love to walk by the seashore
And watch the waves in motion,
I love the sea in all its moods
For God made the mighty ocean.

by THEODORE R. ROWLEY

me, performing my poem “I Wish I Didn’t Still Check Your Facebook to See If You’ve Died” in a poetry slam at Ball State (tagging @metvmorqhoses because she’s my poetry mom)

edit: added with transcript



I’d not lost a tooth in a decade

But this…this was a hole left in my gums

Still bloody and wrecked and foreign in my mouth

This is my tongue edging the gap, wary and mourning.

This is how I lost her.


I don’t know if I was in love with her-

But I loved her.

Childish and fast, sand in a fist white knuckles tight,

I didn’t see it slipping through my fingers.

And she did, she said, love me.

She loved me, she loved me, she-

And I just longed to hold her fucking hand,

Just once.

But two thousand miles is an awfully long way

for a string to go unsnapped.


When it happened- because, it happened,

There wasn’t a term for it,

A crate to slip it into and ship away to someone else.

But now.


Ghosted- verb

To kill a relationship in the bed where it sleeps

and leave the sheets and headboard bloody.


There was a time I would have sunk into the ocean if she asked

and I’ve never learned how to swim.

But now. I’ve changed so many bloody bandages

I don’t know how my body has anything left to give.


It took five years before she brought the shotgun into the backyard

and sent me reeling with the silence-

Left me alone in a crowded room, ears ringing.

This was a chest wound. Brutal.

And I still feel myself bleeding.


This rattling in my chest is the ache of a loss

I can’t stop, shouldn’t keep feeling.

This is a haunting, or a poltergeist, or something demanding a priest.


But.


I’ve lived with ghosts,

and ghosts will always make themselves known.

This is a phantom limb.

This is my tongue, pressing into my jaw in the absence of bone,

This is the tugging on my hand,

a hand I no longer have.

A hand that only held hers twice.

This…this is how she left me.


A mouth half empty- wishing to speak to the dead.

chaensoo  asked:

1 and 86 for the question thingy !! ❤️

6 songs I listen to A LOT are White Noise (…duh), Piano Man (Mamamoo) and I Will Show You (Ailee) because I like singing in the shower, Just Right by Got7 cause positivity 👍, Hero by Monsta X because LET THE BASS DROP, and anything else with EXO on repeat. My favorite color is TEAL!!!! and I love how it looks with white, sand, and black!! As apparent in my theme 😅

Originally posted by r-velvets

Why is Coron, Palawan a perfect reading place? (Part 1)

Continuing my adventure which started in Baguio, I went island hopping in Coron in the southern Philippines and I was surprised by the beauty and tranquility that welcomed me. 

By boat, heading at the beaches of the islands from the main Coron town took us one and a half hour, but it was an overwhelming sight to see! Really perfect for leisure.

This is Banol Beach. I love the natural mix of the sharp brown minerals, the greens, white sand, and the pristine waters. This is just a small island you can walk around in just 10-15minutes. There’s a lot of stingrays in this side of the beach. The other side (not in the photo) is solely dedicated for swimming and snorkeling activities. You can see me waving happily on the side of the rocks.

Peaceful Banana Island is perfect for reflecting. Maybe it’s over an hour from Coron Town, but it’s simply tranquil and beautiful. You may also do camping here overnight!

Just by looking at the waters ebbing the shore, you can hear your heart beating with the ocean.

Next stop will be the other side of Coron, which is full of turquoise-colored waters and just breath-taking views of nature. I will be posting more soon! 

Hemingway also kept me busy along the way. Reading in the quiet islands is just perfect!

“I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.” – Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

instagram

@msmelina

Dear Solange,
21. we met on a conference call and I thought you were high but later realized you were just a slow ass talker
22. We ate mad sushi and became sisters 23. I drove the getaway car for Keisha crazy. 24. Julez became my heart.
25 You threatened to leave LA.
26 you broke my heart and actually left LA. also we made one of the best pieces of art I’ve ever made in South Africa, so that made up for the move.
27 introduced me to the beauty of Nola and I caught 2 cocunuts at Zulu.
28 you married your soul mate and literally threw the best celebration of history.
29 we danced through those Havana streets as people threw buckets of cleansing water on us from their windows on New Years. But really it was just tap water… 30 you made it! And I no longer have to hear your insane theories about dying in your twenties. I don’t like those at all… All that to say thank you for coming into my life and sharing this past decade with me. I love you from that treehouse in Sweden to the White Sands of New Mexico. You are my soul sister, my sanity, the other pea in this pod. Happy mothafuckin birthday Solo!!! I can’t wait to spend the next decade talking revolutions, throwing shade, and leaving footprints round the world!!!

I fell in love with not just her physical looks but her elaborate mind. Her mind was beautiful. Her thoughts were an intricate web of excitement weaving around like a masterpiece. Her mind was powerful. Her ambitions were like a bullet speeding by, incapable of being held, burning everything in its way. And maybe her mind was so dangerous, that it even seemed like she herself bit off more than she could chew. She felt like she was suffocating in her own sea of despair…drowning in her thoughts. I guess it’s true you don’t need water to feel like you are drowning. And what hurts the most is me, watching, and realizing that I cannot dive in and save her. She was the ocean and I was a grain of sand.
—  by @ixnpitt