#writtenconsideration

[env0writes]

A Feud to Carry Vol. 2, 2.10.24 “Sonorous Sonnets of Sorrow Most Sever”

Pain sits within the seat of my eye As a stone does in the peach With sweetness dripping ambrosia In biting, broken, painful overreach I would fight within the thrushes On the beaches and the sea Be loose with all the oceans of my soul Give floating rise to dreams reflected; yet to be Poisoned sips and looks too light of comedie Of art, oh, harlequin, oh common cunning punch With jabbed hands at well welled levers Devout in their faith, oh, believers, oh, lovers, the bunch Let me ingest, digest, and divulge my poisoned tears With stonéd arsenic cores Fallen from love’s embrace, from branch and limb Rotten, infected at the core Sweet sorrow, of you I’d not be parted Before the passing day, anew, anon, restarted

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

[darkforestroads]

remember the night

The first I remember, I was two years old. I lay in my stroller and watched the light come through

the black fabric of the hood in pinpricks like I was seeing my own wild, starry night, and

the second night I remember, I remember because of the dark bitter wine I snuck from my

grandfather’s glass, just the dregs, five years old—the wine, and me.

I remember more, of course, I remember thinking at age ten that I wanted to be someone, a

teenager who drove cars that blasted down roads after sunset, surrounded by all the dark

evergreens, going so fast that the stars would be blurry

but somehow I can never remember anything other than the dreams. I can never remember the

weave of the sun-bleached cotton over my head or the occasion where the wine was drunk or

which road, which road would I take that mythical car down, the 1994 Hyundai that I had to push-

start before we got to school like it was a recalcitrant asteroid—

Oh, I feel jagged now. Memory ripping me like sun-softened cotton, because

I remember the first time I saw Dan Gurney’s Eagle car win the Indianapolis 500. The Eagle,

black and white under the whispery static of the television, shone and shone for me, even though

with all my dreams I couldn’t imagine the feel of the wheel under my sticky palms.

I watch a dream go around and around a treeless track.

[jmsapphire]

Soft age and softer dreams

Coffee, cupcake, dairy milk

Right before life makes you see

Its many many cruelties

Now time has passed and

Your coffee's just black

Sleep is more important

Than giving back and yet

You still live on, in autopilot

When ages ago romantic was your plot

Now you're just keeping it alive.

- but why should that be bad , you just need a new dream now

[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)

[prasannawrites]

before i sleep.

[writeblrcafe]

Sixth prompt menu (March)

We are excited to present you our sixth prompt menu this March! This is our sweetest menu yet, consisting of five sugary companions for your drinks at writeblrcafé and sweetening our baked goods. So choose your sweet flavour and order a candied prompt from our menu!

Brown sugar: "If that's all it takes to kill a god, then how easy it must be to become one." by @basalamander-corner

Maple syrup: Write a description of one of your settings from the POV of at least two different characters, so you can see how their unique voices change how the setting appears to the reader. by @asablehart

Honey: Choose a song and write something inspired by that song. by @sadfragilegirl

Agave syrup: "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now." - "I can't. I'm sorry." by @basalamander-corner

White sugar cubes: Write about two characters having dinner, but they can't explicitly say what they want to say. by @asablehart

We encourage all forms of original writing. You can check out our other prompts here. Make sure to tag your piece of writing with #wcprompt within the first 5 tags and mention which prompt(s) you used. We will reblog every order!

Please reblog this post to spread the word in the writing community.

[persephoneshellhounds]

Will I ever possess the softness I pretend to have?

— Fray Narte

Gif from: Stealing Beauty (1996) // Dir. Bernardo Bertolucci

[creatingnikki]

as a hopeless romantic and with the heart of a poet you may think that it's inevitable to get over it — this heartbreak, this pain. if someone mattered to you this much, if everything with them meant so much, then how can you go on living without them? but there's nothing commendable about yearning for a love years later that could never manifest into something healthy, long term, and mutual in your life. unrequited love? one sided love? the one that got away? an almost lover? yeah at someone you gotta have to stop romanticizing that. you don't want material for shayari. what you want is to eventually move on and meet someone else and have a fulfilling and meaningful life because that's what is commendable. that's what is beautiful and that's what is poetic. a life well lived. a life well loved. not being hung up on one person or the idea of that person. the way our brains are wired is that you cannot really keep drowning in the memory of someone for over a year. if you decide to move on and let go at some point and go out there and meet other people, you will find someone who will make your heart smile again and whose jokes you will find funny and who will make you want to risk getting hurt again. it's honestly inevitable. so don't let them lie to you. don't let them make you believe that you have to live, if you are a romantic, if you have truly loved, as someone who never moves on. that doesn't make your love for that person any grander. it only makes your life less meaningful and more miserable. sadness can become a habit especially when it's sadness in love, or rather sadness in the lack of love. you can fall in love with that kind of sadness. you can glorify it. you can get so attached to it that you'd rather keep it than attempt at happiness in love again. don't be that person. love and let go and love yet again. the poetry is in that.

[hathaway-hayes]

104

Somewhere -

There’s an old man not so silently Grinding his teeth Whilst rocking on his porch

Seeking a seventh-day constellation In a six day week.

And at some point -

He mumbles, he swears it’s there like: The rainy-day money stored In a book long forgotten.

Maybe it’s in Xian.

Maybe it’s in Denver.

Maybe it’s in Mom’s cooking.

It’s definitely in antiquity, A grief on every other Wednesday, now, And wish for the gray to go away.

- Hathaway Hayes (2024)

[n-ehpamoi]

And at the end, I suffer the fate of meeting my own self, a thousand times over

[dg-fragments]

Measure my life, to the last ounce, if you must, you'll find nothing of value, but dirt and dust, still, leave me as you found me, gathering rust, for nothing more can be done, I am biding the time just.

- DG

[env0writes]

Dead End Dirt Lot Diaries 7.2.2023

“Eggplant Barren Walls"

At one point it ceased being worthwhile Making a space my own Not even my body–enough On again off again Star-bellied no stars The sticky-tacked skeletons always– Always, shown through It doesn’t need to be home To sleep in It doesn’t need to be mine To dream

@env0writes {C.Buck}

[Ko-Fi ] & [Venmo]: @Zenv0

Support Your Local Artist!

Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

[darkforestroads]

thoughts after 10 pm

life is heavy company

find the corner where you won't be disturbed and find solace in your water glass

with the tipping of water you can pause this earth

look, nothing matters

the floor is wet but it will dry

so much possibility if you stare through the bottom long enough

it ripples, changes shape

you can avoid the shadows or splintering light this way, a clap on the hand

dull it through the glass

wait for your guest to be shown the door and finally

disappear off down in the dusk

[jmsapphire]

Fire strikes and forests burn

Hearts beat, minds learn

Sometimes for the better

Sometimes in return of

A greater tomorrow or a deeper hurt -

Lucky are those who saw it in sleep

Or learned it from others

Who stumbled in their sweep

The quickstep fumbled

But you asked those who got up

Felt it in your bones that

Lightning in the bottle is about to crack

And break whatever was inside the urn

It kept you weary, thinking in worry

It may have even kept you from

soaring and searching but

Premonition comes as a sign

You might fall, but you might rise

And you know you can't keep

Living your life in eithers

Either fear, either grief, either fail

Either falter, know that you will

Always have the chance to rise

Don't let the cards bring you down

Nor the palm read it first for you

Carve it out, make it work for you.

[ginadope]

whispering

The white butterflies, those Heart-shaped sweets And my daughter - the one my body betrayed - her precious hands The moment's creatures, all Strands in my braid

I do remember dreams My hair does sometimes Cover my face, and yet Space can only follow time One way, not another So who am I to Keep looking behind

[prasannawrites]

for @nosebleedclub jan 3rd 2024 prompt.