Poem - Blog Posts

Cogito, Ergo Sum

I write ugly things.

That’s who I am.

I expel the bad onto paper.

Otherwise it gets stuck in me. Emotional constipation.

That’s probably why people hurt each other.

They need to get rid of it. The ache.

Can’t keep it in. Easiest way to get rid of hurt is to pass it onto someone else.

Most readers like it though. The hurt.

Look at Bukowski and Hemingway. They’re successful. Apart from the alcoholism and suicide.

I don’t understand them all that well.

You’re too young to understand, they tell me.

I don’t know about that.

I think I just don’t understand men who create their own suffering.

I’ve had enough pain. Disease and dead friends and all that.

Good thing for a writer though. To suffer.

Suffering brings validity to narrative.

I hate that.

I hate that perspective only matters if the writer has gone through something horrible.

Suffering adds to character. Solidifies it.

I also hate that.

Identity should not be so fickle.

It should be made of curiosity, interests, relationships, passion, and peace.

It should be made, fostered, cared for.

Not victimized.

But maybe that’s just the way we are.

We must rot so that others will salvage our blossoms.

We must dish out counterfeit pain to remember we are alive.

Mortal.

Look at me, you say, beaten red.

I bleed therefore I am.

A few months ago I started playing rdr2 and one night I sat bolt upright at 3 am thinking about Arthur Morgan, took 15 minutes to write this, and went back to sleep. Yes I’m pretty sure I was possessed

Anyway it’s a poem about a cowboy and his dead lover:

It’s been a long time since I saw you last

Since you drew breath, smelled the grass and the dust and the dirt

Since I laid next to you on the ground and watched you doze off in the heat of the afternoon

And it had been even longer since we walked through fields of gold together in Autumn,

Since we held each other and whispered amongst ourselves what was, what will be, and what can be

And it’s been a while since I’ve thought of you last

It’s been a while

But now I think of you often

I think of you when I eat, and when I sleep,

And when I cup my hands and drink from a waterfall

And when my arrow pierces the hide of a deer,

I think of you as I hear it dying

I hear you everywhere

I hear you in the trees, and in the breeze

I hear you in the quiet laughter of the people I still care about

I hear you in the chirping of the birds at dawn and the trilling of the crickets at dusk

I hear you in the cold, howling wind of midwinter

I hear you when I sing softly to myself

Sometimes I see you, too

I can picture you posing on the cliff as the sun sets and you stare off into the distance meaningfully

As I reach out and touch the place you used to sleep,

The sheets thrown off because it gets warm very early in the Spring

And I see you on your horse,

And I see you in the stream

And I see you in every good deed

And I see you in every tear shed

And I see you in the clouds that drift by, careless of the fact that you are gone,

And I see you,

And I see you,

And I can still see you

And I see you in the unfathomable blue of the summer sky

And the nothingness of the stars at night

And I see you next to me when I close my eyes

But never when I open them.

Rice in the fields,

Rice in the bed,

Im too cents less,

Im a mess

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

MARY OLIVER

Rabid

I often think I an rabid.

My heart races,

my eyes dart

my hands tremble.

My teeth ache

to dig into

your shoulder

My nails score

lines in your

hip cradle

You coon and stroke my hair

You kiss my bloody lips

You hold my stained hands.

Waking up

feels like

walking in syrup.

You've moved on

My teeth are dull.

Heart and mind

When you are born

you are given two things,

heart and mind.

From little age you are told:

"Be careful with the heart,

it is a fragile thing. "

"Sharpen and strengthen your mind,

for it will serve you right. "

But no one tells you,

how fragile mind can be,

how easily it breaks

and how tough one's heart is,

how hard it is to get inside.

No one talks about the way

they work so closely together.

No one could say

the truth about their bond.

No one tells you

how it hurts when one breaks.

Just one thing they let you know:

"Be kind. For it is your shield and your sword."

But how can that be,

when your arms are trembling

and your eyes are filled with water?

the love between the ocean and the moon if that's too vague? <3 i always love your writing and you are always so great. <3

The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”

“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.”

“Don’t listen to him,” said the clouds. “This big ball of gas doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Yes, I do,” said the sun. “Who but me makes the roses grow?”

“We do,” said the clouds. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.”

“Why do you ask?” said the sun.

“I think I might be in love,” said the moon. “I am trying to understand.”

So the moon went and looked at the deserts. They were dry and hot and empty. “See?” said the clouds. But the deserts were still beautiful.

And so the moon went and looked at the creeks in their beds, and they were cool and wet and full. And they were beautiful too.

“What do you think?” the moon asked the sky. “I want to know if I am in love.”

“Ask the earth,” said the sky, and so the moon asked the earth.

“The clouds cover me,” said the earth. “They make me bloom. The sun warms me. Without them I would be cold and dry.”

“You would be ugly without them. That is love?”

“I would be cold and dry,” said the earth, “but not ugly. You are cold and dry, my little one, and you are beautiful.”

“Not like you,” said the moon. “Not like the ocean.”

“No one is like me. No one is like you,” said the earth.

“I feel loveliest when she holds my light,” said the moon.

“Who is it that you love, my child? What kind of love do you wish?”

“Are there different kinds?” the moon asked.

“The sun warms me and pulls me in. The clouds cover me, when they remember. The sky turns every color for me. How do you and yours love?”

“We dance,” said the moon, and they knew she meant the ocean. “I push and she pulls. I rise and set, she rises and ebbs. She pushes, I pull. We go around and around and I watch her tides and I do not think I will ever tire of calling her beautiful. Is that love?”

“It is only your own reflection you see on the ocean’s surface,” scoffed the clouds. “It is like when the sun sets, and calls us beautiful, but it is only his own colors he loves.”

“I love her even when I shine no light,” said the moon. “Maybe I love her most then.”

“You only love her because she follows where you lead,” said the sun.

“It is a dance,” said the moon.

“It is self-centered,” said the clouds. “Bossy. Mean.”

“She is the heart of my orbit,” said the moon. “I will live my life by her until she is gas and I am dust and the universe is cold and dead.”

And the sun and the clouds were quiet and went away, and the stars came out from where they had been listening.

“Is this love?” said the moon.

“You are not asking the right people,” said the stars.

“I have asked the sun, who burns,” said the moon. “I have asked the clouds, who cover. I have asked the sky, who stays forever. I have asked the earth, who made me.”

“But have you asked the ocean, who loves you?” said the stars.

“Oh,” said the moon.

And so the moon went down to the ocean and asked, “Is this love?”

And the ocean said, “Yes.”

if only we met sooner

if only we had met sooner

i might be really good at golf now

and although you’ve been practicing

you’re still losing at mario kart somehow

if only we had met before

we might have two cats (or four)

we might have been to turkey

and brought home several more

if only we had met earlier

i’d be joining you at the football matches

then we’d go back, have some dinner

then head to bed where i give you back scratches

if only we had met a two years ago

which is when you first saw me

you might be ready

and maybe i would be too

but i guess now we’ll never know

ummm here’s a little something, idk if you’d call it a poem but oh welll

wrong place, wrong time

it happened quite fast

i didn’t really mind though

until it came to an end

an end i didn’t want

and i’m truly not mad

in fact i feel so selfish

because although you’re not ready

there just isn’t anyone else for me

how can i forget the calls and the facetimes

our first date, you wanted to meet my dad probably just to wind him up

i hope you keep the keyring i gave you

i can’t stop glancing at my phone

just in case you call or message

but i know that won’t happen

so for now, i’ll just miss you

okay so this guy i’m dating told me to write him a poem bc i did ONE assignment on poetry for my english degree and he thinks i’m a poet.

fast forward weeks later and i finally thought of something that doesn’t start with “roses are red, violets are blue”

anyways i’m posting it here. idk if it’s any good, i trust tumblr not to judge me. yes it is sickeningly cute, i apologise in advance. (there is no title yet)

although we’ve known each other less than a while

everyday you make me smile

and that makes it worth every mile

that’s between us across this silly isle

p.s. idk whether to add any other stanzas or if it’s fine as it is 🥹

I cry for the butcher

Gold silver and copper

cake my tongue

No harm can ever come from

my mother's praying hands

My filthy mouth -

I harmed myself

Orange wedge lip

Clenched ivory threat

Pulled the trigger with my tongue

Blood orange

Her saintly hands

I’m sorry - a million times over

I say to her

And when i finally cry

It is not for the lamb.

Lines Written in my Cage.

It feels suffocating

Lies so excruciating

The love runs deep

But I might never keep

With lies and mind illusions

I hate how you've got me having delusions

You're giving me hypertension

Now I'm in another dimension

This love is toxic

It's starting to get chaotic

I'm in my zone, chill within my bones

While I'm skipping stones

Staring at the sky

I'm trying not to say bye

My life is going down

Maybe I should move to a new town

Start again, new friends, maybe family

Get my things in harmony

And maybe then I'll finally have peace

Finally get away from the beast

Away from all the abuse

Not drowning in all the misuse

With people crowded like flies

Yet we're trying to get to the skies

My head is pounding

Yet my imagination is unbounding

If I die who's gonna remember me

Maybe my grave will be the key

My mind is a delusional trajectory

I'm hoping I find a new sanctuary

To anyone who's at this stage

I think all I needed was a page

This I think is by far the longest poem I've written👌. I had help from @pheonix-notthebird. She started helping me at "Maybe my grave will be the key". Thanks a lot you were really helpful and I hope y'all like the poem :) . PS: I chose that title cuz Cage nd Page rhyme and it's like start & end so ¯\😋/¯

Roses once red

Now wilted and dead

Memories of love

Now filled with dread

Heartache and tears, the pain won't fade

In a lonely world

My soul aches and sways

My poems make me feel like I'm depressed😭

Roses are red

Skies are grey

Our once true love

Now fading away

In moments of darkness

In the face of lies

Nothing is left

But the madness in our eyes

Wow...

Roses once red

Now withered and dead

Skies once blue

Now dark in hue

Silence once comforting

Now so suffocating

Can't believe I gave it all up

Just to be with you

This is a poem I wrote a while ago and I read it again and it made me think of Ghost Town, hope y'all like it 🙃

In the middle of the night

I lay awake

Patiently waiting for daybreak

Then I hear the sounds of a fight

People cheering

Whilst some are screaming

But yet I lay there dreaming

Wishing I was daring

Though I know it won't last

I know it'll keep going

The river shall continue flowing

But then again, it's all in the past

It's not that good but I wrote this at 4am cuz I couldn't sleep 🥲

Roses may be red

And the skies may be blue

But nothings okay

If I'm not in hue

With psychopaths laughing

And suicidals dying

The only thing working

Are my tears falling

No caption idea 🙃

Two Years Deep into Depression

I have become A half-empty fishtank What remains within me is gasping for breath.

The stagnant water Circles my hands In the corner the filter struggles to work.

You can hardly See inside me anymore I haven’t bothered to clean the surface.

You will find me Outside on the curb Unwanted and free.

A poem inspired by a lack of motivation to maintain daily hygiene. Depression is so hard sometimes.

Photo credit to Shopify.

Maybe if my mother and I

were much more different,

it would be easier to fault her

for everything that happened.

To explain all the pain

I am carrying.

Maybe if my mother weren't

sometimes soft

pinning the fault would

go smoother.

if she didn't have the

same outline I have

if we didn't laugh the same,

share the same freckle,

chin, and ears,

and have the same interests.

Why did the universe make us

so much alike.

To whom of the counterparts

does this curse belong to.

Do I then blame

her or myself

as her and I look at our

mirror images

mournfully gazing at each other.

The first kiss For one moment, time stopped surprise held me in its arms your lips playing on mine sweet and soft your cheeks and jawline soft against my touch your smell engulfing me lapping over me in soft waves life went on around us people dancing and music blaring through the speakers I didn't care what anyone thought of us I wished for time to stop there so that I could savor this moment forever Freeze this piece in time so I can keep it close and hidden away A safe place just for you and I

Lol, just a soft little moment. I wish this happened more. But I am not that lucky...

Yearning

I fell in love with a ghost her sweet scent accompanying me a whisper in my ear a warm feeling around me in my cold empty bed she joins me in my imagination as we go on great adventures and live out our lives like the lovers we were supposed to be

Ghostly figures

dancing, swaying

on long forgotten music

Lost lovers

unite once more

Families

laugh and play

As time slowly ticks away

(2021)

This is my first time posting on tumblr, please be kind

Lol I hope I did this right

Pls enjoy <3

“there’s something unnerving about the jaded heart,

with jagged corners sharp enough to draw blood,

when it goes silent.”

— “exhaustion”

𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚 1:

𝐎𝐡 𝐦𝐲, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

I look at you, see as your eyes dig in mine.

I feel your warmth, feel it etch under my skin and into the balm of my soul.

How it your heart beats against the side of my ear while mine beats in rhythm to catch up.

My dear, my heart, my soul, how much I wish I could give it all.

I would lay, bow, and kneel in front of you. All for you to see the bareness, rawness, and my vulnerability for you.

Because as their is love, their is trust with you.

May you forever be ingrained in my skin, my heart, and my soul of which you have possessed.

This is gonna be something I add little by little. I know it's not exactly what I normally post, but it's something I've been wanting to do for some time now.

I would appreciate some comments on what you think of my poems when I post them. It would help me improve, which is all I really want to come from this.

If you like my poems, then thank you for taking the time to read it!

Sky

A little comic I doodled out of a poem I wrote a while ago

A comic based on this poem

anyone else sing jackfilm's little melody in their head whenever they read a haiku?

Cross posted on Tiktok lmao but it's that little poem but with a little twist because I'm evil

“The Boy Who Couldn’t Say No”

He was one of the girls—no, really,

Mascara-free but gossip-ready,

A quiet laugh tucked in warm sleeves,

An introvert the world still sees.

A boy who trembled at the word no,

Not out of fear, but how could he go

Breaking a heart with rejection so clean,

When his own bled kindness, unseen?

He'd cry if he slipped—

“Forgive me,” he'd plead,

As if a stumble was a desperate need

To fall to his knees and apologize deep

For daring to be flawed, for making a peep.

He’d complain to me,

Eyes rolling with flair,

“People are draining!”—yet always there.

A magnet for souls who needed a light,

Though he dimmed himself to keep them bright.

Not perfect—not sainted, not sugar or silk,

But damn, his heart? Brighter than milk.

Supportive, generous, a fountain of praise,

Cheering our nonsense like fireworks blaze.

He’d call a guy creepy, dead in the face,

Then hand him his schedule—just in case.

Too kind for this world, a people-pleasing flame,

Burning himself to fuel their game.

And still, he stayed—

Not because he had to,

But because kindness

Was the only thing he knew.