erica-écrivait

umustcreate:

This is the new poetry,
just like the old poetry,
everything changes
and nothing changes.
I’ve seen such self-conscious
words they’d be embarrassed
to prop up a bar with mine.
Words dripping with simile
and metaphor all getting drunk
before their bodies hit the floor.
This is the new poetry,
just like the old poetry,
so alternative and so hipster
it hurts and I don’t know
what either of those words mean
and it’s cool to rhyme and it’s
so not cool and it’s not cool
to say cool anymore.
There are words with heart
and there are words with balls
and there are words about
ribcages and flowers and hurting
themselves and trying to find
themselves because they’ve never
been used before.
And there are whore words, used
so often, so don’t use those
or risk the wrath of the elite,
the nouveau poets, the starving
in a garret writers, the lovers,
the fighters. The moleskin scribblers,
the dabblers, the write every day-ers, the prayers, the intellectuals,
the pseudo-intellectuals, the practical, the stream of thought words and I love it all.
So come give me your words,
your old poetry, your new poetry, your i dont give a fuck about punctuation or speeling poetree.
This is the new poetry,
just like the old poetry,
everything changes
and nothing
will
ever
change
and that’s why I keep reading.

LOVE

(via staygolden-poets)

Have you ever had a love affair with this city?
So madly and deeply and painfully in love with this place
that you swear it must be a sin,
but when you walk into that big old echoing cathedral,
you find you’ve got nothing to confess

She’ll pin you down and smile into you with her curves,
that one big sweep of the river, and the little tug boats
will pull you up and away and down through 
the muddy waters, and it’s not just that you can’t
fight the current— it’s that you don’t want to

She has her good days and her bad days but
most of all she has her ways, her mystery and
her charm and if you ever think of leaving her,
she’ll pass a plate of spices and something fried
under your nose, and you’ll sit back down

Have you ever had your heart broken by this city?
Have you ever been held back by the arms of 
the oak trees, knocked over by the gently flapping
flags hanging from the wrought iron balconies,
tied down by the latitude and longitude of 
the sleepy, easy way of life?

Have you ever begged for permission to leave her?
But once she hangs her heavy head and lets you go,
pulls a hurricane from within her depths to flush you out
and give you the excuse you need,
you realize you never wanted anything more
in your whole life than to love her back,
even if you find yourself drowning in that specialty of hers,
her all-consuming love

This world is so beautiful
but so broken

This world is so broken
but so beautiful

And I am naive enough
to think I am immune to 
some of the tragedies
that devastate others

But I am fortunate enough
to still have reason to believe
that that is true

And I am small enough
to feel helpless and hopeless
and utterly insignificant;
less than a pawn in this game,
less than a speck in this world

But I am strong enough
to at least try
to set a spark
to change a life
to make a difference
in this broken,
beautiful
world

Went to a small independent bookstore today completely unaware that it was their last day in business.  I’m so torn about situations like this, because it breaks my heart to know that these kinds of places just can’t seem to survive anymore.  BUT, it meant that everything in the store was only 50 cents, so I walked out with 8 new (to me) books for $4.  Which is bliss.

Top to bottom: The Time Machine (H.G. Wells); A Streetcar Named Desire (Tennessee Williams); A Study in Scarlet (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle); Notre-Dame of Paris (Victor Hugo); Death of a Salesman (Arthur Miller); The Old Man and the Sea (Ernest Hemingway); The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood); New Roget’s Thesaurus and Webster’s Dictionary

natej182 replied to your post: Chance

Fantastic. Just phenomenal.

Such kind compliments!  Thank you so very much.  I appreciate it greatly!

Don’t you see that you had to fall?
You were a meteor streaking across
The star studded sky, ablaze in a glory
Of which others have only ever dreamed
You had to fall, you had to die your little death
You had to collapse in upon yourself, to
Implode like a dying star
You were an unstable element, an experiment
Gone all wrong
You were too great for this earth, so far beyond
The limits of our imagination, the grasp
Of our understanding, the width of our knowledge
You were destined for so much more than the
Tiny little labeled boxes we all tried to shove you into
You had to fall
So that you might have a chance
To rise

colchrishadfield:

Tonight’s Finale: A view to put the mind at ease.

Here I sit, in my little opaque sphere of 
anxiety and fear, clawing at the smooth
insides and staring blindly at the nothingness
before my eyes, wondering how many times
I will trap myself, make a hostage of myself,
swallowing keys and tightening knots like 
I’m dangerous, like I’m going to detonate,
asphyxiate, then exacerbate every situation 
that’s been a result of my creation, and it’s
ridiculous to have the audacity to think I am
part of the problems of the universe, as if it
cares for my singular soul, but if we’re all pieces
of the whole, if our sum is greater than our
parts, then I have to find it in my heart to 
grow up and move on and let go and just know
that I can break the cycle, I can break my sphere,
I can be bigger than what plagues me—
I can break my fear.

leaveyouapen:

I’m not the one who broke you
I’m not the one you should fear
We got to move you darlin’
I thought I lost you somewhere
But you were never really ever there at all

Read more