adamkamerer

[adamkamerer]

it's 3 am and there are secrets buried between my chest, secrets waiting to be unraveled. these hush-of-the-night concealed whispers await your arrival; anxious, apprehensive, on edge in hopes that you'll keep them hidden within your own chest, in hopes that you'll feel the same. - "but i don't think you love me and it kills me everyday"

[adamkamerer]

All this to say I feel a little blighted too and the lively things that crawl and warble and cry out under my skin are a little more extinct and I am trying to keep a little patch of yellow flowers blooming in my belly even against drought and wildfire.

Adam Kamerer, from “Climate Change”

[adamkamerer]

Read the full poem here: https://www.adamkamerer.com/poetry/2023/mother-black/

[adamkamerer]

[adamkamerer]

If any of you are in the southeast Alabama area, I’ll be reading a handful of poems at this event in Dothan, AL on March 2nd, including a few pieces I’ve never released anywhere else.

[adamkamerer]

My soul, whole spreading wide its raven wing

Charles Baudelaire, Complete Poems; 'Tableaux Parisiens' from 'Mist and Rain', tr. Walter Martin

[adamkamerer]

Stars glowing in the core of the Rosette ©

[adamkamerer]

I shiver whenever your ghost revisits this emptiness, but it is the only way to relive you. Never fully gone, never fully here, I am condemned to remain as hollow as the memory with which you left me.

Noor Shirazie (via noorshirazie)

[adamkamerer]

I am the kind of tired today that cozies up against heartbeat and bone, and today the only thing I want is to sleep against her big soft belly, but she never stays forever and tomorrow the sun will gold back up and tomorrow the flowers will smell rich and sweet and tomorrow the birds will sing pretty once more and tomorrow the world will want me.

Adam Kamerer, from “Mother Black”

[adamkamerer]

I want to tuck myself under the sheets with the quiet world, listen to the naked sound of my body and the world, pressed hazy against her in the early mystery of this February morning.

Adam Kamerer, from “February Fog”

[adamkamerer]

Website | Patreon

[adamkamerer]

[adamkamerer]

“The daily routine of most adults is so heavy and artificial that we are closed off to much of the world. We have to do this in order to get our work done. I think one purpose of art is to get us out of those routines. When we hear music or poetry or stories, the world opens up again. We’re drawn in — or out — and the windows of our perception are cleansed, as William Blake said. The same thing can happen when we’re around young children or adults who have unlearned those habits of shutting the world out.”

— Ursula K. Le Guin 

[adamkamerer]

Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, "The Roses of Saadi" trans. Louis Simpson

[adamkamerer]

Website | Patreon

[adamkamerer]

[adamkamerer]

“I don’t understand death, but I’m not afraid of dying. It will be a rest: a cradle at last. I won’t hurry it though; I will live until the last bitter drop.”

— Clarice Lispector, excerpt from “As Fast As I Can Type” (April 17, 1971), Too Much of Life: The Complete Crônicas  (trans. Margaret Jull Costa & Robert Patterson)