#poetry📚

[jamescarioca]

cais do porto

uma flor que se abre com o sopro calmo dos anjos duas bocas cálidas que se procuram apaixonadas quatro mãos entrelaçadas tão bem encontradas cinco estrelas testemunham promessas e sonhos

um universo de cores resplandece em seus olhos duas almas que se entregam curiosas e assustadas buscam o porto seguro para suas vidas atribuladas descobrem-se inteiras plenamente entre suspiros

um amor divino e puro que precede os seus corpos pura sintonia acessada apenas por suas memórias saudades longínquas quando sabiam-se completos

lembranças afetuosas das suas pequenas estórias renovadas pela brisa das marés dos mares infinitos nesse encontro íntimo singular com suas infâncias

rio de janeiro, 9 de maio de 2O21.

the docks

a flower that opens with the calm breath of angels two warm mouths looking for each other in love four intertwined hands so well found five stars testify to promises and dreams

a universe of colors shines in her eyes two souls who surrender, curious and scared seek a safe haven for their troubled lives they discover themselves completely between sighs

a divine and pure love that precedes their bodies pure attunement accessed only by their memories distant longings when they knew they were complete

affectionate memories of their little stories renewed by the tidal breeze of the infinite seas in this unique intimate encounter with their childhoods

rio de janeiro, 9th may 2O21.

[tygerland]

Andy Warhol Goethe. 1982. Series of four screenprints: 96 × 96 cm (38 × 38 in) each.

[decisions-at-3am]

I've always struggled with words, Never learned how to express. My thoughts lacking clarity, Attempts at speech useless.

You seemed to find it so easy. Never caught up in your head, Just talking, with no disconnect. Wish I could follow in your stead.

But until I learn how to, I can only do what I know. Whenever we're together, I hope you see, I try to show.

Cooking your favourite food, Making sure you don't die from flu, Standing just a little closer, My ways of saying 'I love you too'.

[drowninginabactatank]

Map and poetry pages in Holly Black's Elfhame series The Folk of The Air ✨️

From The Cruel Prince, The Wicked King and The Queen of Nothing.

[youre-ackermine]

SONNET XVII

- Pablo Neruda -

 "I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   

or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   

I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   

secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   

the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   

and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   

from the earth lives dimly in my body.

.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

.

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   

so close that your eyes close with my dreams."

-

Pablo Neruda - “One Hundred Love Sonnets" - 1959

Translation : Mark Eisner (2004)

[ibelongtofiction]

When Noura asked "Do I name you my heart or is my heart named after you?".

And Adam replied "How would I know. I've lost my heart a long ago. I cannot name the hollow of my chest and what fills the hollow is already named Noura.

- Khalifa by Laiba

[destinyc1020]

[wulfhalls]

Hey about the name of the rose I'm italian and let me tell you here it is famous as the book that everyone owns but nobody has ever read cause it's basically unreadable and overly complicated also its success it's due to the fact that when the book first came out the publishing house though nobody was gonna buy it so it was published in a cheap poket edition and since it was cheap and umberto eco is well known it quickly became a best seller and since it was selling so much people kept buying it to see what the fuzz was about but nobody was really reading it

thank u so much. what a great message I feel so seen rn. this is giving me the strength to power thru the last 100 pages 💪 thank u anon and thank u all of italy also

[bothsidesnow2000]

Found the copenhagen-triology at the thrift store 💞💞 and some other fun books 😌 (like amalie skrams mental hospital novels yaay! <3)

[jamescarioca]

a sexualidade desvelada

ah! o amor. quão cruel e insano sentimento não há razão que o explique e não há coração que não se machuque ando perambulando, ferido de amor um amor tímido, mentiroso, leviano ando atormentado por figuras femininas continuo como um andarilho solitário muitas mulheres, muitos problemas e nenhuma paixão verdadeira muita hipocrisia sobre a natureza do sexo pouca santidade, mais problemas incontáveis problemas indefinidamente sem solução centenas de milhares de aporrinhações muita exigência de santidade e poucas… muito poucas verdadeiras atitudes pouco diálogo e amores platônicos demais ando sofrendo com o peso do mundo sobre meus ombros ando sem paciência e esperança de algo melhor os dias ensolarados são maravilhosos mas os acontecimentos são terríveis tragicamente horríveis pouca explicação, nenhuma razão e muito arrependimento muita astúcia e as mais sinceras mentiras quando de repente enlouqueço de vez jogo tudo para o alto extremamente indignado cansei de ser este poeta desafortunado inconsolável outro que aguente firme os trancos que termine esta estória requisitam-me para todo e qualquer tipo de obras em contrapartida, apenas sofrimento e ostracismo e desgosto, cansaço, desânimo e saco estourado que outro se recomende e dê conta do enfado interminável que é contar essa história sem fim sem pé nem cabeça do fim que comece do meio, do início, isso pouco importa de trás pra frente, do meio pro fim, do fim pro meio, do fim pro início, do início pro meio, do meio pro início do início ao fim se tiver realmente os mesmos colhões que repentinamente estouraram de tanto tédio e que essa mulher maluca me deixe finalmente em paz que outro a despose e faça bom proveito do seu masoquismo libidinoso espiritual e de sua demagogia criminosa interminável que ele se farte até lamber os beiços do apetite voraz insaciável deste demônio beatificado e que se fodam as ideias e os conceitos divinos de santidade com todo o respeito e a lisura requeridas nesse processo porque num mundo completamente louco não há como se esperar nada além da minha própria loucura e nem como exigir nada diferente daquilo que vocês vêem daí de cima sem tomarem nenhum tipo de providência: impunidade, corrupção e perversão do corpo, da mente e do espírito no final os loucos são vocês no julgamento de vocês alguém se salva? além de vocês dois, josé e essa maluca de véu? não. ninguém. a bem da verdade acho que estamos todos nesse inferno há tanto tempo esquecidos e negligenciados que já até nos acostumamos e a respeito de juízo eu pouco me importo minha reputação é devassada mas minhas virtudes morais e éticas conservo intactas na mais perfeita pureza porque eu cheiro a minha cocaína, fumo meu tabaco e minha maconha sem jamais perder a minha consciência nem me apartar das minhas obras de caridade e se existe diabo… o problema é dele que num péssimo dia ousou querer ser maior que deus que ele segure a onda dele e que o meu pau continue crescendo colhões estourados sim mas de pau duro sempre

rio de janeiro, 24 de abril de 2O23.

unvealed sexuality

oh! love. how cruel and insane feeling there is no reason to explain it and there is no heart that doesnt get hurt im wandering, wounded by love a shy, lying, frivolous love im tormented by female figures i remain a lonely wanderer many women, many problems and no true passion a lot of hypocrisy about the nature of sex little holiness, more problems countless problems indefinitely without solution hundreds of thousands of hassles many demands for holiness and few… very few true attitudes little dialogue and too much platonic love im suffering with the weight of the world on my shoulders im out of patience and hope for something better sunny days are wonderful but the events are terrible tragically horrible little explanation, no reason and a lot of regret a lot of cunning and the most sincere lies when i suddenly go crazy throwing everything up in the air, extremely wrathful im tired of being this unfortunate, inconsolable poet someone else who can withstand the obstacles finish this story they request me for any and all types of work on counterpart, only suffering and ostracism and heartbreak, tiredness, discouragement and bursted bags someone else recommend himself and give account of endless boredom which is to tell this never-ending story without foot or head of the end start from the middle, from the beginning, it doesnt matter back to front, from the middle to the end from the end to the middle, from the end to the beginning from the beginning to the middle, from the middle to the beginning from start to finish if he really had the same balls who suddenly burst out of too much boredom and may this crazy woman finally leave me alone someone else marry her and make good use of her of her spiritual libidinous masochism and his endless criminal demagoguery let him have enough until he licks his chops of the insatiable voracious appetite of this beatified demon and fuck divine ideas and concepts of holiness with all the respect and fairness required in this process because in a completely crazy world theres nothing to expect but my own madness and not even how to demand anything different of what you see from above without taking any kind of action: impunity, corruption and perversion of body, mind and spirit in the end, you are the crazy ones in your judgment is anyone saved? besides you two, joseph and that crazy woman in veil? no. nobody. in fact, i think we are all in this hell so long forgotten and neglected that we have already gotten used to and about judgment i dont care my reputation is devastated but my moral and ethical virtues remain intact in the most perfect purity because i snort my cocaine, smoke my tobacco and my herb without ever losing my conscience nor depart from my works of charity and if there is a devil… its his problem who on a bad day dared to want to be greater than god let him hold his wave and that my dick keep growing bursted balls yes but with a hard dick always

rio de janeiro, 24th april 2O23.

[completelyrain]

se faire remplacer est sûrement le pire sentiment qui n’est jamais existé, une maladie qui affecte sans remède. un sentiment où tu es condamné à voir ton amour construit et renforcé pensant des années se dissolver et s’évaporer dans les airs, comme si rien ne s’était jamais passé.

on commence par rencontrer, on leurs donne une chance pensant qu’ils serait meilleurs, meilleurs qu’une tornade ou une autre erreur.

on tombe et notre amour pour eux divague, ô comment j’aurais aimé rester dans cette vague.

ensuite leurs petites erreurs se mettent en place, ne plus venir aux jours de rendez-vous, oublier nos anniversaires et, petit à petit avant qu’on s’en se rende compte, ils partent. ou ils sont déjà partis.

on est en colère, frustrés voir même triste, comment c’est possible de pouvoir partir si magnifiquement? tel une pétale en plein printemps.

puis on oublie.

on oublie leurs voix, leurs gestes, leurs tendresse, on les oublies.

ô âme, comment je voudrais revivre cet instant éphémère. revenir en arrière, et être ta dernière.

face cachée, on trace notre route de chaque côté, sûrement trop rongés pour voir la vérité. tout les deux on disparaît et on réapparaît, les coins de notre ville déjà explorée,

nous sommes deux parfait inconnus qui se sont déjà aimés.

[…]

[decisions-at-3am]

I may have been an artist, Long before I knew you. But does that matter now, For what is the point of An artist without their muse?

[ahaura]

if i can finish these by friday i will be so happy <3

[the-portrait-of-seraph]

"I was born in a time when the majority of young people had lost their faith in God, for the sane reason their elders had had it - without knowing why."

This is the first line of this week's book, The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa.

I'm only 1/4th through the book, but I think this is something many people would relate to!

[tygerland]

The name of it is "Autumn," the hue of it is Blood; an Artery upon the Hill, a Vein along the Road...

Great Globules in the Alleys, and - Oh - the Shower of Stain, when Winds upset the Basin, and spill the Scarlet Rain...

It sprinkles Bonnets far below, it gathers ruddy Pools; then eddies - like a Rose - away, upon Vermillion Wheels.

- Emily Dickinson, #656 (1862)