#original poetry
poppiesandpromises · 3 days
Iridescent threads woven
In my chest to catch the light—
Beyond the braying beasts
I see the bower of blossoms
The crystalline air wears the
Scent of something wistful
Sparrows scurry from
Pole to pole, heedless of
The frost, the loss—
Instinct as salvation
On the other side of cold
Lay survival
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soulwr1ter · 2 days
Tighten your grip and bring 
me to you with the intent of never 
letting me go. No more holding back, 
let me feel exactly what I do to you. 
Undo me completely. Love me as 
you were born to. Claim me as if 
I am all your soul desires as you 
breathe life into me. Undress me, 
take me with the thunder of your 
passion, and lift me to the clouds 
as you nest me in the sky of 
your arms. Make your name the 
prayer, I chant in a freckle of stars that 
elevate my soul to dawn peace. 
Feed this hunger with the seed of 
your dreams because I am starving 
here for you. All I want and need is you. 
Do not, my love, let me hide from you.
Keep me there where my
existence has crawled inside
the marrow of yours. Let me begin
and end with you.
-J.Wool, Undo Me, Breaths of the Soul 
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goneahead · 2 days
The Trees Carry Their Dead
They are killing the poets of Myanmar. The trees carry their dead, the fallen log becomes tomorrow’s forest, And we sink, root deep into Gilgamesh, into Beowulf, the griot and the shai’ir quicken the kurals whispering through our veins. They are killing the poets of Afghanistan. The trees carry their dead, the felled log feeds a thousand saplings, And the winds of ancient Patna and golden Heian rustle our written leaves, Sappho and Hungry Coyote loose the landays in our throats. Tibet, Somalia, Cuba, Syria and Venzuela. Hong Kong and the Congo. The lists are long, the trees carry their dead, and so do we. So do we. We sink our roots deep, deeper than tyranny, deeper than hatred. They are killing the poets in Ürümqi, but we are writing a forest, a forest of new words, growing, unfurling, rising green and free from each fallen heart. The trees carry their dead and So do we, And so do we. ~~~~~ note: both a griot and a shai’ir is a traditional poet, kurals and landays are traditional poetry forms.
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aaronawbra · 2 days
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teeth-ing · 2 days
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happy national poetry day. have some one liners I haven't found a home for yet.
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congratulations, 3/22/23
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I'm sorry, I don't know
How to tell or how to trust
That anyone actually likes me
It feels like a trick, it must
Be something else, not that
I look in the mirror and I just can't see
Any solid reason you could have
To like someone like me
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peakogreen · 2 days
happy you said no
you gave me heart burn
that could melt tin
and with that,
I locked myself in
But I’m not a fool.
I made sure
I wasn’t sad about it,
no one can limit me.
That’s how you die in
a desert of intimacy.
Rejection is
the hardest thing
anyone’s growth faces
Dropped like a wet rag,
but it was the hydration that got me to the oasis
.•.peako green•.•
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inejghafabf · 8 months
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a very short poem for august (s.r.m.)
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typewriter-worries · 7 months
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journal entry - 8.17.22 
“what is something that is always true?” 
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dame-nostalgique · 1 month
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Experimenting with poetry and embroidery 🦋🕯️
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poppiesandpromises · 18 hours
Sinuous arms twine
Tender in still half
Sleeping trees, the
Whisper of wind—
Winter seems to
Weather, wearily, wool
Coat now threadbare
A buttercup boutonniere
The bluebirds are bleary
But their song is so loud
A lovely little lingering
Here in my heart
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soulwr1ter · 14 hours
I carry you with me, inside me, and around me. You are in everything that surrounds me. You are found in the curve of my smile in silence, the loud beating of my heart that floods with the thirst to quench your soul’s hunger, and the soft spring of my blush that arises to kiss the morning dew of dreams that laze about from the merging of the light and dark where we love, sometimes wild, but always tender. You are the day that hugs me and the night that cradles me. You are the love of my sky, the steadiness of my earth, the butterfly song of my laughter and the magic of my life. You are my everything and always, my once in a lifetime that I will never give up on because I believe in you and me and I will always have faith in what we are. You are the beauty of profound sweetness in me that colors every single one of my rainbows that I paint out of the colors of the wind of your midnight breath.  No matter how much you change, in my eyes you will always remain the same because you are the love of my soul. In your eyes, love, I breathe to love, to die, to be reborn, and to fly. I dive deeper into you every single day, unafraid of losing myself because you make me feel safe in ways I never knew I needed. I can lower my guard and be vulnerable in your hands. For once, I don't have to be in charge, I can hand over the reins and count on you.You hold me together with your patience and I bless it with every beat of my existence because you were meant to deal with an unpredictable child like me. You get me and I have you. You are my forever.
-J.Wool, My Forever, Breaths of the Soul 
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self-mythologist · 30 days
Bracha for the first warm rays of sun of the year
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ברוך אתה, יי אלהינו מלך העולם שעשה את השמש החום
Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu,Melech ha’olam,she’asah et hashemesh hachom.
Praise to You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the universe, who created the warmth of the sun.
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aaronawbra · 3 days
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I think about you too much. First thing in the morning, when the sun is fixated on waking me up from the dreams I have you. During the day, when I have nothing better to do, I daydream of you next to me. When I see something I think you’d like I drift off into thoughts of you. At night, when I’m winding down and wishing I was in someone’s arms… your arms.
It’s you… it’s always you.
And late at night, when I can’t sleep and the world is silent, I can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking of me too…
But only in my imaginary world is this real… you actually thinking of me… and you… together as one.
Silly me, there I go again dreaming of you…
Yours truly,
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