#writerblrcafe

[unmondefou]

let me be your coffee

for you won't find anything

tastier than me.

and I promise

to turn your wake up

into a beautiful

sleepless night.

--- h.harouche

[heartofmuse]

Truth is that the heart needs more forms of love from your partner than just romantic love. It needs the nurturing and unconditional love like the one that comes from a parent. It needs the love that helps you achieve your maximum potential, that empowers your virtues and is patient with your flaws like that of a teacher. It needs the love of a friend who will listen without judgment, who will laugh with you and be your confidant and accomplice. It needs the devoted love of a healer who will tend to your wounds and hurts and never turn a blind eye to your suffering but rather help the healing process knowing all the time the healing and the timing is all yours. Love is more than just romance and passion, and sooner or later it will die out if you do not nurture all the other faces of love. For if love has a thousand faces, how bland would it be if my love for you were the same one all the time. 

e.v.e.

[meaningfall]

———

C. A. Singh • The world is still here (I know because I can see it)

3-6-24

[palladiumfragments]

a wisp of smoke

the summer when it dawned on me that i’m no longer thinking of you, i was sitting on the balcony of some hotel watching the wind ruffle the surface of the charcoal sea. it felt strange, almost like committing a cardinal sin, to find no traces of you in me. i remember the grief, the solace that came shortly after, but most of all the guilt—because where do i lay to rest the habit of using every lovely thing i see, like the gentle waves breaking softly towards the shore below, as a metaphor for you? 

[poetryofhvaw]

[fantodsdhrit]

you use a sieve to spread us on the floor and never once sigh

when we wither

if you say: i'm counting your return i never left you if you say: i'm glum

over separation

then i never lost

sight of you

what of the golden ear humbleness that you hear or the doleful skyscraper

dew: horses dyed

blue by the peasant's

soiled hands

this repose will last a few seconds and then i'm immortal and yours

if you desire: mountain

of child gate

then don't fear the

atrophy of senses and the bed time rituals when you lie in sage swivel

of incense smoke and

say: since ancient times

we've been heaven and earth with countless longings lost between

embroidered quilts

[dg-fragments]

Words were lost from him, or he was lost for words, for some things were better left unspoken, and yet even unspoken could still be written; hidden perhaps but written still, for buried inside they'd only rot and wither, and outside on paper, they might just find a life, or else, rot and wither, all the same.

- DG

[abrighterspark]

magic lives in all we breathe,

in the land

and in the sea

magic lives in you and me,

in love and need,

and poetry

[mkaugust]

Please be gentle with me, For you see, My heart is made of paper.

My paper heart, You can clearly see, Is already lightly torn And full of creases.

Be gentle with me, Don’t poke holes in my thin and fragile Paper heart.

I’m still healing, you see. Paper once torn, Is hard to sew back together.

And holes and rips, well, They’re irreparable. When your heart is made of paper.

Don’t fret too much. It is only my heart that is made of paper. My lungs, my skin, my lips… They’re all much stronger.

Come closer. Come closer and then you’ll see. It is only my heart that is made of paper.

[enslavedmind]

on being transgender & unacceptable // jay brooks

[unmondefou]

You broke me like thunder breaks the sky on a rainy night.

--- h.harouche

[heartofmuse]

Love me even if life tries to steal me away from you. Love me in this silence and in the distance that are none of our doing but which we suffer all the same. Love me for my heart only beats your name. Love me without ever harboring doubt in your heart. I am yours from the marrow up and my one true desire is to be in your arms. Love me while you wait. Love me without words and with every breath. Love me till we can be together again. 

e.v.e. (Letters to my love)

[meaningfall]

———

C. A. Singh • How To Age

2-24-24

[mkaugustpoetry]

Our sticks clash Locked in place against each other, However briefly we fight back, Evenly matched.

Perhaps it is dramatic But I cannot help but compare us to Warriors, Swords pressed one to the other.

The push and pull, The risk of being pushed down, Tripped up and outsmarted, Flat on your back. Shards of glass in your hands Where seconds before you held a weapon.

Our lives, homes, families may not be at stake, But they speak of us the same; We are Gladiators in the Colosseum.

Battling as they cheer and jeer, Safe in the stands. Equally excited by our successes and our failures.

The difference between us and those long lost warriors is not the lack of swords in our hands; For what is this stick if not a weapon I wield, cherish and protect, kept tight to my side at all times;

But the teammates at my back. Sticks in hand, intact, Ready always to battle further.

And that tomorrow night, You could be at my side. A teammate once again, Rather than a sword to press against.

[poetryofhvaw]

[fantodsdhrit]

please don't start the [year] with the same pedestrian everything that

flies up

to the ceiling and turns unfathomable more so: that optimistic positive zeal

that stings like vinegar

in june jejune

somebody [moi]

likes lukewarm popcorn: every person touched you last time except [me] but

no one

mentioned those whiffs

or the snow that you'd hauled as a child when you drugged the [pines]

just to embrace

them:

through the same kunlun pass where your friends saw you last: counting

on your fingers

every world that had [him]

my decade-ago [self] would be jealous but i have insured and inured my insides

by imbibing tar

and chewing asphalt:

since you have

my eyes

we both [shed] the same snowflakes while you're still waiting on your paris

i am

putting on

my achilles' [heel]

as days go by: i will expose [it] with panache like that garish fashionable

pearly madame

posing before

green scaffolding