✍️
Even if the poem sucks
Even if it’s nonsense
Even if you don’t know what it means yet
Just start writing and see what happens
You might learn something about yourself or the world
Here’s today’s poem, I spent maybe 10 minutes on it:
Give me your demons
I will carry them away
Give me your hate
I will extinguish the flame
Give me every tear
I will feed them to the earth
And tend to your garden.
Jan 31, 2025
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⭐
you know,
all i like to write about is love.
writing is easier when it’s about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain
but love is the beautiful dove of the two
released at a funeral, released at a wedding.
,
because the definition is different for everybody.
—
the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in
and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time
my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight
as i drag myself closer to you,
you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions
–
i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation.
i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,
fully and infinitely with all of myself.
if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else.
–
word by word and sentence by sentence
i create dreams i would never tell anybody
not even under the skies of a cloudless night.
when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow
and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot
something i should need more.
but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart.
soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth
and what i am afraid of will come
3d ago
⛵
from omeros, by derek walcott:
“Measure the days you have left. Do just that labour
which marries your heart to your right hand: simplify
your life to one emblem, a sail leaving harbour
and a sail coming in.”
advice to a young, wandering poet given by the phantom of his father. words to live by, to repeat to oneself every once in a while!
Jan 29, 2024
✏️
let me be still
on a monday morning
you
try to push me out
but
i’m not ready yet
I like this canal
or, cavity
it’s warm and not as wet
as where you want me to be
i’m a part of you
why do you wish to expel me?
to send me down
like Flushed Away
but i’m no Shane Ritchie
no,
i’m your garbage
from somewhere else in your body
with someone else in your body
i’m just a waste (of time)
give me a place (no grime)
of permanence
- poop, forever in motion
Feb 1, 2024
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