the-poet's-notebook

Elven Poets’ Notebook by myceliae | [deviantart]


German Springback” bound with 90(ish) pages, gold edged and round-cornered. (All by hand! No fancy edge-cutters for me. Trusty scalpel and a cotton reel.)


Covered in hand-dyed chamois leather. Yip, that is the soft thin yellow leather you clean your car with.


Hand-embriodered head-bands of gold and green thread. Hand-painted end papers.


Green velvet marker ribbon. Raised circle on the cover, surrounding a knotwork design in gold (yes, I created that too).

  1. cement 
  2. gothic
  3. musk
  4. pousse-café
  5. share
  6. spark
  7. tantalizing
  8. lavender
  9. extreme
  10. declare
  11. halloween
  12. journal
  13. mud
  14. riddance
  15. tainted

There was a couple sitting across from me as I wrote in my journal.  They caught my attention, tantalizing me.  

She was dressed in gothic clothes.  Looking like Halloween a few months too soon.

They looked extreme, but normal in every other aspect.  I dragged my chair across the cement to get a closer look at the lovers.

They shared a pousse-café and smiled at each other often.  Her hair was lavender and he smelled of musk.

Suddenly she stood, the table tipping slightly, standing straight up like she was going to declare war.

There was a spark of anger in her voice as she threw something at him.

She left and he finished his drink as if he was celebrating her riddance.

I remained, my journal covered in the mud she fired;

My image of soul mates tainted.

Be brave, little one. The world is vast, full of darkness ready to leap at your heart in a moment’s notice. You will come upon those who are not brave, those who are.

Be brave, little one. There will come times where you must stand alone simply because you said you would. Left for the mounds of Earth, the forces of nature to swallow you in a shallow grave.

Be brave, little one. Companions come and go, but those memories shall never fade from the depths of the soul. There is a time and place for love, but please let your eyes continue to shine brightly.

Be brave, little one. A drop of blood isn’t the end of the world; neither is a lost limb. Protect your mind, your soul, your resolve.

Be brave, little one. Sometimes you must run away - even in fear. Conquer the demons leading you around like a puppet, and come back stronger.

Be brave, little one. Monsters lie in human skin, but having some on your side never killed you. Open your heart a little while still keeping it locked tight.

Be brave, little one. Your darkness will come; the consequences having been laid in the back of your head for some time now. You mustn’t forget those who care, those who stay by your side.

Be brave, little one. This doesn’t mean to lose all traces of your innocence. Always laugh at the stupid jokes - there will come a day you dearly miss them.

Be brave, little one. Death is necessary for rebirth, but you should never throw life away carelessly. Remember their requiems - your friends and your enemies.

You must be brave, little one, one who is not so little anymore. Goodbyes are unavoidable; don’t hide those precious tears. Simply turn them into an
“I’ll see you later.”

soullessly bringing

you are white, your skin is cold.
your eyes are red, your body has froze.
your soul aint broke, you just cant see this catastrophe.

waged in the mind free range mammals creeping out to form the divine.
soullessly bringing you to existence.
youll find your life in a tree.
but your roots cant let you see when they are grounded underneath.
now its your test of time, go read the texts and engage your fucking mind.
broken soil crushed into beds of glass and needles.
medication shoved down the throat that does feed us.
is this hallucination of the human screen glass-like and serene?,
screaming out the decent and streaming out your life’s means.

your morals on a latter set to break and fall.
your defense is blood scattered on the wall.
your face is blank, and your body is cold.
your will is divinity sold by the hour.
take your memories and store them in a book.
go back in and peel yourself out.
take a real hard look on how your world has completely shook all cast down by your doubtful looks.

I seem to realize
more and more
that I am not
what you need
and I am not
what you want.

I see it in the way
you keep looking
other places
you keep searching
while I’m here.
I hear it in what
you say
in your half-hearted assurances
and the timing
of your praises.

But don’t you see, darling?
I would break myself
to pieces
just to rebuild myself
into what you want
just to stitch myself together
into what you need.
I would case myself into the fire
to become flames
and ash
and molten desire
for you to pour
into your molds.

I know it’s not healthy
and I know it’s unwise
but, darling, I wonder:
If I could be what you want,
would I feel wanted?
What must that feel like?
If I could be what you need
then maybe
maybe
my hands won’t shake
and my chest won’t ache
and I’ll be bigger than myself.

If I could be that for you
then at least I am something.

I’m sorry, darling, but
there’s just something
so tragic about you
that brings out the best
of the worst
in me.

I just want to be
something
to make up for the
nothing
that aches in my bones
and weighs in my lungs
and begs in my chest
and I don’t know
what else
to do

—  All that I want is a purpose. Don’t you have one to spare? || acw
To The Bayside

Like a rain drop, crawling down the blade of the leaf.
It doesn’t stop and wonder what’s underneath.
It doesn’t worry if it will dry up once it has fallen.
It doesn’t care if it falls into a sea of water or a sea of death.
It doesn’t hesitate.
It just rolls.
The world isn’t watching it.
But at the same time it’s holding it in its mold.
It’s just a missed raindrop.
What if that raindrop was you.
What if that was you being held up on every blade of grass that comes from her.
Your face turning blue.
And you glistened by the moonlight but yet still felt so alone.
Alone with yourself but together with everything on this planet we all call home.
We at times forget that from the earth we were taken and so to it, we return.
We try to teach everyone what we know but then get so caught up that we forget to learn.
Constantly going so fast because the earth seems so undeniably vast.
Yet so many just sit in their house like its a cast and let their muscles and brains decay and rot.
If we don’t use it we lose it.
But funny how if we use some then we will lose many in this worlds plot.
Getting annoyed at change to the extent that we throw away penny’s, maybe even some nickels like its our daily snot.
Wanting everything now and if we don’t get it immediately then we feel like we’re in a jar being pickled.
Oh there’s a quarter.
Holding on to the corruption of the world like your a hoarder
The run around, like a track meet.
The waiting game, like a dmv back seat.
The hunt, but someone’s trying to attack me.
Life is vicious.
Looking past the malnourished talking about how the earth is so nutritious.
Then we watch as you destroy if.
I’ll be the witness that pleads guilty that the greedy humans are the problem.
Now when will they shut up and let him solve them.

the long and winding road

this journey that we’ve walked
so many years now
has led us down the same path
time and time again.
we held hands down it once until we reached a fork
and our fingertips shared one final kiss.
and though i cried i knew we’d meet again.

somewhere along the way i thought i had it figured out
plotted a few points, marked a couple places
but none really felt right.
as i was walking i saw the road meet another in the distance.
my heart sank.
my stomach turned.
all along i knew this day would come
i ran to catch up with you, but heard laughing from behind.
you hadn’t made it this far yet,
so i took the fork alone.

i’m at the end of my rope
everyone has fucking left me
my best friend won’t even talk to me
and i figured this was it.
and i saw the road join again,
so i ran to you, even though it didn’t work before
my legs moved on their own, there was no time to think
and when i got to you you’d grown
as i had, too
and we picked up where we left off like we never even knew
we’d gone.

so while this journey hasn’t been easy
you’ve been a strong constant
and if my road splits with yours, i’ll follow you
to the ends of the Earth
less we meet one final time, falling off the edge.

// c-o-s-i

The Lost Notebook

Love so real you write it down.
Not because you will forget but because you will remember the way it made you feel.

You will see it anywhere and recognize it everywhere.

The words will make you smile, they will make you cry. The pages will make you feel wonderfully broken and seemingly sad that it was ever lost.

The thing about love is that it can only be lost in the physical.

No matter the destruction we create for ourselves a deep bond never wavers. Separateness is an illusion in the mind, one the heart knows nothing of.

August Journal Challenge: Day 29

As I have been volunteering since about five am this morning to shove corn in bags and sell it to hundreds of people in my city, I decided that the only fitting entry would be a poem about corn, or An Ode to Corn. I have been quite enjoying writing poems for this month’s challenge. :)

(neckbeard) never shared this before. ode to Charles. #poem #poetry #prose #haiku #highku #original #composition #creativewriting #writersneverdie #writers #writer #poet #pen #paper #notebook #spilledink #poetryofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poems #words #quotes #neckbeard #thebeardedneck #451press #451 #thebookyouveread #maparedes #Bukowski by thebeardedneck https://instagram.com/p/6dbVL3kHeR/