becomingpoet

[becomingpoet]

Does the moon ask why it is here?

Does the sun worry whether it’s too intense?

Does the ocean wonder what its place on earth is?

And does the earth get anxious about the infinite

and tiny symphony of life scurrying around its body?

Do the mountains fear death?

If I climb them, will the mountains tell me?

If I confine the symphony to subnivean spaces,

Will the earth’s heart quiet my own?

If I moongaze until the silver blinds me, eyes white,

Will the moon name my purpose?

And if I swim the ocean floors,

Will I find my place in the crushing darkness?

Will I find a home befitting

Of someone like me?

#penumbra #becomingpoet #poetry #spring cleaning

[becomingpoet]

I’m story telling again: trying to talk

about anything but you and failing,

interrupting normal conversation

with my knowledge of a person

I haven’t seen in years.

Silent,

I type lists of your favorite things, little habits.

I am always pleasant now, my lips spread thinly

in something reminiscent of a smile.

Every kindness I show the new people in my life

is formed around a memory

of what I didn’t do for you,

and I meant for this poem to speak

of softness, of wonder at letting go

and the hundreds of days I have spent without you,

but instead it reveals your overwhelming presence.

The crest of my grief reaches even here,

and here is where the waves overtake me-

dissolved by a tsunami three years at sea.

This poem instead speaks of how I am realizing

I will miss you for the rest of my life.

#the last word #becomingpoet #grief #poetry #after this no more #disjointed draft

[becomingpoet]

Thank you for the tag! I’ve been doing a poor job of showing my face around here.

I am belated but finally enough of a person to answer:

“Community of The Spirit”, Rumi

“Perfect, you’re my poison”

“God is in the rain.”

Myriad

Universalizability

If you were not tagged, please feel free to participate! While I may be too lazy to tag, I would love to read whatever response you all may offer.

Tag game for the poets and poetically inclined

Share:

A poem that tends to pop into your mind

One line in a song

One line in a movie

A word you'll avoid for fear of over-usage

One word that is you, metaphorically (no explanation)

Go!!

@allnightsong2, @sanddollarpoems, @poppiesandpromises, @the-hollow-quiet, @madworlddiary, @everytimeyousaygoodbye, @aubriestar, @mylovaboxa, @brooklynbubbles, @sdbea, @wordrummager, @psychicbouquetlove, @hitawall, @slowfalter, @lorienfae, @mycosmicbackyard, @simply-eno, @becomingpoet, @not--waving--drowning

... and tag your mutuals!

#poets on tumblr #tag game #reblog #out of order

[becomingpoet]

What good is it,

to carry it to the end? Then

we are both bitter.

Better to swallow while it’s sweet.

#reblog #out of order #poetry #becomingpoet

[becomingpoet]

I was too young to know how to love you

There were lessons still unlearned and I

Had never seen love like that up close before

I was young and prone to violence

Arrogant and loyal to my programming

To a message of protection that

Sounded like fear

I made terrible decisions, and I hurt-

Betrayed- the people I love(d)

I looked after myself both first and last

And I took care of no one well.

I was too young to know how to love you

Old enough to say so but

Not yet old enough to walk away

And your legs were green, too

#out of order #becomingpoet

[becomingpoet]

I’m lost again.

The woods have grown thick:

I didn’t notice the light choking in the canopy,

unraveling the make of our cloth, unweaving

threads of universe colliding within us until

we are unable to follow them home-

And you go so long without it,

you forget what thunder sounds like:

simple things, like the tympani of rain;

plain things, like which key belongs to your door

once you finally stumble home.

Like a flower blooming in Antarctica,

“Home” becomes wholly unheard of:

the dead name of an ice age long ago.

I walk this path of pasts until I am lost again

as I have been many times before.

I am just now trusting the ground to hold me-

not to crumble beneath me.

Vanished as I am, the truth is

this is all survivable.

#the way home #becomingpoet #poetry #empty your drafts #spilledink

[becomingpoet]

And one day,

this will all be a dream:

a nightmare stamped into the horizon

of a night long since past.

One day, when the sun reigns again,

all of this bitterness will mellow into the

sweetest vanilla.

Harsh words will soften into murmurs

and everything wrong

will be set right once more.

One day,

this will all be behind us- medicine swallowed,

and all that’s left

a spoonful of sugar

#becomingpoet #out of order #poetry

[becomingpoet]

I was looking forward to summer

To that fringe of heat shimmering

On the edge of the horizon

To clear night skies, and a million bright stars

I was looking forward to July, and to August

And to every month thereafter

Until the temperatures simmered

One degree below one hundred

Until the air was thick with sweat

And you were so close, but so far

Until I was smothered, despite the distance

I was looking forward to you, and to summer

And I am overwhelmed by you both

Anxious for autumn to break this fever

#august 24 #becomingpoet #poetry #lit #spilledink

[becomingpoet]

I took too long to swallow

And now the taste of you

Has soured in my mouth

#out of order #stale

[becomingpoet]

beautiful

is not a word I would use to describe

someone like you

glass shards in my mother's house

tender toes

tired eyes

happy eulogies in bitter smiles

you have the heart of a poet

the mind of a poet

the fingers of a poet

but in truth

glass shards reflecting ceiling light

dancing

the strain of the tv

i don't call you beautiful

you might be a poet

i see in you

the poem.

-//a little letter to someone who writes poetry so wonderfully :))//

then

i cannot call this poem beautiful

a poem such as this

breathless and wonderful

must be called instead

by its name

so tell me, Anon,

who writes so well of me

as if you knew me in my mother’s house

you have the soul of a poet,

the tongue of a poet,

the eyes of a poet-

vision kaleidoscopic, and true

i don’t call this poem beautiful

rather this

i see as you

-//a thankful reply to someone who writes poetry wonderfully and thought to write of me, gifting me great joy :’))//

#poetry #anon #absolutely floored #beyond honored #glad to meet you poetry penpal #thank you thank you thank you

[becomingpoet]

Moonflower blooming above my head

Vines reaching down, tangled and dense

For years I’ve waited to see you again

Moonflower blooming above my head

#it’s been years #becomingpoet #my moonflower bloomed! #the one the landlord damaged no less #out of order

[becomingpoet]

has it ever been as darkly green as this

if I had clothes this color, how rich, the color they would be

sumptuous and silk, the rain pooling in the leaves

bare skin rubbed lightly by May’s vernal breeze

the cool and floral scent it carries

and down the street, coral flowers perch in an emerald crowned tree-

and I myself am dressed in mint and olive

#green #becomingpoet #poetry #everything was so green and misty the other day

[becomingpoet]

Your fury was

A sudden frost at the crest of April

Buds flash frozen, scatter to the ground

The promise of spring temporarily rescinded

And I have not yet come back from winter

And all spring my branches have lain bare

And the weather warms but I am frozen still

Asleep underground, roots curl and recoil,

Dig deeper into earth a dream never ending

As echoes of life distort into wonder nightmarish

Beneath the midnight sun

Until I cannot find me anywhere

And yet the seed sprouts

And the plant finds its way out

And the wind is warm

And you are gone, with winter

And I am in bloom

Persephone in spring

#april #becomingpoet #poetry

[becomingpoet]

Cinco de Mono

Tagged by the present patron of poetry tumblr, @definegodliness, to answer five questions. Lo-

1. A song I would like played at my funeral: make sure I am either in full sun or a grand cathedral, and play The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams. If you are someone that loved me, play something with some wicked organ when they inter me and my sapling (Toccata and Fugue or the overture from Phantom of the Opera are both good options, but you, of course, know that).

2. A book I enjoy reading: I reread the Woman in White by Wilkie Collins whenever I’m in the mood for a better written Nancy Drew (which was my go to comfort series back in the day).

3. Last new movie that I watched for fun: I saw Up On Poppy Hill the other day and it was gorgeous. I loved it.

4. An old movie I enjoy rewatching: The Blues Brothers!

5. A song I enjoy but doesn’t fit my aesthetic: do I have an aesthetic? How about Delincuente by Tokischa 🎉

Tagging: @simply-eno , @twohousesoftheholy , @aubriestar , @distilled-prose , and @spacedoutagain

As always, sorry for any repeats and all participation is optional!

#get to know you #becomingpoet #out of order

[becomingpoet]

This winter, the property manager cut

A beautiful thicket of barberry and other shrubs

All the way to the ground- leveled.

Small trees had all of their branches chopped

within a few inches of their trunks.

This spring, I look over the desolate meadow

and find that we are much the same.

I too have been trimmed back, pruned ambitiously;

I too have fallen prey to destructive hands.

The things that we were- trees and bushes-

are no longer, but all is not lost.

There is Life here yet: leafy vines and violets

make homes out of the cleared ground as

the branches of the headed shrubs sprout

their yellow-green leaves, and I grow back just

as hungrily, clawing my way to sunlight,

weaving my roots into dark soil.

#out of order #reblog #dark soil #spring

[becomingpoet]

I have bent so far for people

who didn’t know where they were going.

Now they all claim that I’m misdirected.

Of course I am- I loved you enough

to walk your winding path.

I will not let love lose me again.

#warped #out of order #becomingpoet

[becomingpoet]

What good is it,

to carry it to the end? Then

we are both bitter.

Better to swallow while it’s sweet.

#swallow while it’s sweet #out of order #becomingpoet