#bread poem

[thatsbelievable]

[asoftepiloguemylove]

"You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn't change its nature."

unknown / Mitski Cop Car / Catherynne M. Valente The Bread We Eat in Dreams / Jonny Bolduc Harsh Light / Margaret Atwood / Sylvia Plath Poem for a Birthday: Who / Anne Sexton Hansel and Gretel "The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton" / @/thymoss (tumblr) / unknown

i. unknown [ "I tip my head like a dog at the window. The outside world is so interesting, and I am not a part of it; I'm just witnessing." ]

ii. Mitski Cop Car [ "I get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog / I get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog ]

iii. Catherynne M. Valente The Bread We Eat in Dreams [ "I said: I could be a wolf for you. I could put my teeth on your throat. I could growl. I could eat you whole. I could wait for you in the dark. I could howl against your hair. ]

iv. Jonny Bolduc Harsh Light [ medical diagram of a dog. "Let the harsh light warm you / Let the harsh wind carry you away ]

v. Margaret Atwood [ "you dangle on the leash of your own longing; / your need grows teeth ]

vi. Sylvia Plath Poem for a Birthday: Who [ "Eaten or rotten. I am all mouth." ]

vii. Anne Sexton Hansel and Gretel [ I want to bite, / I want to chew, / I will eat you up. ]

viii. @/thymoss (tumblr) [ sketch of an animal with teeth surrounding the outside of its snout pointing away from it. "I will remove my teeth, for I want to remain kind despite my anger" ]

ix. unknown [ "I love you like a rotten dog, / I love you like my canines are falling out of my gums / Like a monster, like a beast / Like something not worth loving back" ]

[letallthetrashraindown]

poetry, like bread, is for everyone

Phillip Lee Williams, “Cinnamon Toast” / Van Gogh / Richard Siken, “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out” / Noah Verrier / Alden Nowlan, “Great Things Have Happened” / Vera Filatova / Lucy Spraggan, “Tea and Toast”

[hells-plaid-angel]

Destiel Pride: Day 3 & 4 - For the First Time I Feel & Devine Purpose

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

our sunday visitor's family guide to movies and videos (1999)

“happy pompeii bread day”

[harbingersecho]

I won’t tell you how the mouth will never be honest as its teeth.

[maybuds]

Crust of bread, and such Mookie Katigbak Lacuesta

[Text ID in ALT text]

[willowbee-brook]

I like when Monk talks about Trudy. He is truly in love with this woman and his expressions of love are for the small details he noticed about her all throughout their time together.

[heart-songs]

Proof of Love

A light dusting of sun flours the counter my hands and your cheek. The water is raised to the temperature of our bodies. What we lack in space, we make up for with practice and patience. I sift in some salt and melt some butter. We are never out of honey, you say with a mouth full of hunger and your eye on my waist, let’s make this one sweet. The yeast blooms in the wake of your sleepy smile. Something in me blooms too. Something perennial, elastic and I cannot think of a better way to start the day. All I know is between us there is softness and there is rise there is knead and then there is need and plenty of heat. On days like this the kitchen is so warm the bread bakes itself.

- Cora Finch

[firstfullmoon]

love all caps poems. love 2 read some one day

[chaoticbuggybitchboy]

Mikey’s Bread

What was it meant to be?

Was there a recipe?

A reason for this,

A reason for anything?

People write poetry

Spit prophecy

Scream unendingly

Question everything

Is that what you want to see?

Is this who you want to be?

Is that what you wanted to see?

Is this who you wanted to be?

[wildernessuntothemselves]

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Beomgyu's voice breaks completely on the ‘my life and my bride’ line and by the time he finishes the poem, he is openly crying. You’re crying too, and hugging him tightly to you. You’re sure you’re both making quite the spectacle of yourselves but you don’t care. You hold him so tightly your fingers turn white and he does the same. You feel a sense of loss so intense and vivid, it's as if you've lived it. You’re scared that if you let him go, you’ll be torn away from him just like in the poem. 

“Why–” He sobs, “Why did they have to be torn apart?” 

“I don't know, baby.” You bend down to kiss his forehead, not really knowing what to say but wishing to calm him down–calm yourself down and try to shake off the irrational fear that something like this is going to happen to you. “Sometimes life is just cruel.” 

“No. I can't accept that.” He says resolutely, sitting up to face you and reaching out to hold your face in his hands. “Promise you'll never let anything tear us apart.”

“Beomgyu–” 

“Please…” His voice shudders as he tries to speak through his tears. “I can't lose you.” 

“Oh, baby.” You sigh, reaching out to wipe the sparkling tears off his face. Oh, how you'll say and do anything for this beautiful boy. 

“I promise.”

[ss-shitstorm]

didnt fit in kofi: inspired by ur work, made poem about it. doesnt mention any robotsex sorry. named CREATURE FEATURE. // Deservedness notwithstanding/ (I am a creature,I am a grub),/ in all my monstrousness,/ unsightly and grotesque,/ I wish to be loved./ Gillman, Wolfman, Frankenstein,/ and me, and me, and me./ It’s you, it’s you, it’s you/–the construct I’ve crafted,the idea of you-/You may now kiss the monster/(I do, I do.)/You’d be soft,/ and warm,/and whisper, "I want to be with you, too."

anon I am fucking sobbing., crying my fucking eyes at at my fucking desk . Christ this is so fucking COOL. I know EXACTLY what this is about. I know exactly WHO it's about and it just hit me so fucking hard I can't. I fucking can't.

Thank you for this I'm gonna finish crying in the shower (positive) ughjnghfj

[hersurvival]

Orange peels, pith and all,

I bury in the ground and wait for

Honoratus to give them root

As I bake bread for the ménage

Alas, a mulberry bush has grown in place,

Full bloom for the feast,

I bake a cake in honor of the bishop:

A pastry base, pâte feuilletée,

Bordered with profiteroles, pâte à choux,

Dipped in molten, caramelized sugar,

Filled with both créme chiboust and

Chantilly

A labor of love for our dear Saint Honoré

The mulberries will be ripe soon,

A blessing of the gods,

Stained wine-red with forbidden love

And a miracle of the man known as

The Patron Saint of Bakers and Pastry Chefs

@nosebleedclub April 7th - Profiteroles

[strawberiizombii]

Wrote a lot more stuff recently, feel free to give any opinions or feedback:

SEARCHING

I search

for the words

to write

in you

I search

For the things

To say

In you

But what do I do

When you leave

And you've left nothing

For me to write about

[flagellant]

"SALMON IS GD'S MOST TRANSGENDER FISH"

Come down to the river and sink down up to your knees in the snowmelt running rapid and white Stare down into the water and wait for your reflection To become something else, and Strike out to grab God with both your hands As it tries to escape to breed and make more of itself When you've caught Him, eat the body and the blood and the bones, too, and then look for a new God because just one won't last you all winter.