#mona's poetry

[minhosimthings]

And if I say, "I love you!", Even at the end of the world,

Will you whisper it back to me like you always did?

- For the lovesick birds

[desire-mona]

i love that charlie at welton is like the spawn of satan and the personification of rebellion but at any public school he'd just be a little annoying

[nipsyyy]

I wanted to be the the kind of girl that you dreamt of, I wanted him to look at me and think ‘what a sight for sore eyes’ as I walk by. I wanted to be the Mona Lisa to a da Vinci and not the painting he did right before her. I wanted to be the the girl he wrote poetries for,but I always ended up being the one listening to the ones he wrote for someone else. For once I wanted to be the art and not the artist. For once,just once I wanted to be the ‘you came’ and not the ‘you called’

-nipuna

[persephoneshellhounds]

"Every morning I wake up and I think that I never want to be far from you. And under your influence, since you’re so goo with words, I’ve composed a poem. It’s entitled…‘Oh, Sick and Miserable Heart, Be Still’.”

— Tallie to Abigail, The World to Come (2020) // Dir. Mona Fastvold

[queerofthedagger]

my 'hey yes we have an all-consuming brainrot going but let's try and do something actually productive this week that I'm having off of work' project is sorting through my bookshelves, rigorously throwing things out (little miss I own over a thousand books in my one-room apartment is reaching the breaking point aka I'm finally and utterly running out of space) and i think i threw out almost a hundred books today and it's still not anywhere close for sorting shelves by genre without having to stack and put things second row. how am I supposed to live like this

[majestativa]

In the labyrinths of insomnia I hear voices of silence.

— Mona Saudi, The Poetry of Arab Women: A Contemporary Anthology, transl by Kamal Boullata, (2001)

[alleani]

[kitchen-light]

People associate being a poet with being romantic, and being escapist, but it's not. As we write, we are actually processing the world through our language so that we can experience it.

Mona Kareem, from “Waiting For Language | Poet and translator in conversation | Mona Kareem and Sara Elkamel”, published in The Poetry Review, Spring Issue, 2023

[garadinervi]

Mona Saudi (منى السعودي), Why don't I write, in Women of the Fertile Crescent. An Anthology of Modern Poetry by Arab Women, Edited with Translations by Kamal Boullata, Three Continents Press, Washington, D.C., 1978, p. 42

[rachelspoetrycorner]

The First Person Who Will Live to Be One Hundred and Fifty Years Old Has Already Been Born (2017) by Nicole Sealy

In Episode 218, Rachel brings such a badass poet.

Rachel: [Nicole] said, "For me, form is a way into and out of most poems. Form lends itself to music, imagery, and associations that probably wouldn't occur otherwise. The challenge of getting from Point A to Point B in a fixed number of beats, or the challenge of rhyming one word with another, and the poem still making poetic sense, for me, creates a heightened sense of imaginative urgency that informs interaction with my free verse poems."

Uh, and then she goes on to say [...] that's how that one is able to leap from a conversation about getting older to the Mona Lisa. "The associative quality of my work comes from working in form."

This poem's long title immediately stands out, and almost inevitably makes me think of Muench's poem On Hearing My Father Pulled a Shotgun on My Grandparents During Thanksgiving Dinner. We do not condone pitting two queens against each another here in RPC, so I invite you instead to look at them side by side, and see what you find. How much distance is there?

If you’d like to hear more, you can do so here: Grabby Pincher, from 3:54 - 16:24

[discoidal]

i just finished penance by eliza clark and i have thoughts that can only be communicated out loud in person through speech with an accompanying slideshow of pics of me in maxi skirts from 5th to 10th grade

[minhosimthings]

My mother always told me,"Try not to attract trouble!"

Oh mother dearest,

How can I tell you?

You were my trouble.

[desire-mona]

but can we talk about the fact that the boys have to live out the rest of their lives. like we dont see it but they have to go through every. single. part. of grief. forever.

neil didnt even make it to christmas, they have to go to a school for months that is filled to the brim with reminders that the most important people theyve ever met will never be there again. their uniforms, their dorms, hell even the one thing they rely on for the strength to keep going is a reminder.

for at LEAST the next year, everything will always come back to neil, to charlie, to keating, to the dead poets society.

and the worst reminder of all? the fact that itll all, at least for the foreseeable future, be for nothing. a life lost, a student expelled, a career ruined, yet everything will seemingly go back to normal. every student and staff member will go back to their respective places and live as welton expects them to.

not the poets, theyre still sat in the auditorium waiting for their puck to come back from behind the curtain. parts of them will stay there forever, hoping they get an encore, until they eventually join neil on stage.

so like

[mordere-diem]

"The moon morphs into a crescent; it must be grieving a fallen star."

Mona Kareem, Nights

[normalfaerie]

It’s like she doesn’t even ask for help. It’s like she’s always asking for help.

- All's Well by Mona Awad

[7adreen]

“Through galaxies of stars and planets,” by Mona Saudi from Women of the Fertile Crescent: an anthology of modern poetry by Arab women (1978)