nourish-sustain-attack

[nourish-sustain-attack]

Update to this old side blog: I'm going to use it to help document and come to terms with my father's terminal cancer and how it's affecting my family. This blog will be extremely personal and deal with cancer, aging parents, mental health, co-dependency, dysfunctional relationships, etc.

At times, it may feel like a diary. It may be angry or self-deprecating. It may contain really shitty drunk poetry! If reading extremely personal blogs is uncomfortable for you or not your thing, do not follow.

I'm choosing to keep this public out of the possibility it may help someone else in a similar position. I will not be using names or specific locations out of respect for my family.

You can call me A.

[nourish-sustain-attack]

“It wasn’t that God didn’t respond, but that He responded with silence.”

— George Abraham, “Alternate Mythologies of Exile,” from Birthright

[nourish-sustain-attack]

“People who need help sometimes look a lot like people who don’t need help.”

— Glennon Doyle Melton

[nourish-sustain-attack]

Horizon

Gravity is simple:

The bottom of a bottle.

The pressure of thighs.

To fall

without consent.

Just mass,

time,

And space.

Then there is the sun, who raises it's head

each morning

bravely breaking the horizon

after every long night

to feed ungrateful mouths.

Does she know? Or is she pulled here too

Like the rest of us.

#my poetry #first draft #rough draft #drunk poetry #april poetry month

[nourish-sustain-attack]

House

She wished it was a home.

#my poetry #poetry month day 2 #six word story #complete block tonight #so went with my old 6 word story stand by #this is a shit story but she pickes House so

[nourish-sustain-attack]

I once had a lover,

He asked for me to sit on his lap and to forget my needs.

I laughed.

Give me a decade:

I once asked you what you need.

You laughed.

I know the earth revolves around time,

And my words are just teetering plates

That either lie still or break.

So if I am more chaos than consistency then, Love,

Sleep

and dream of safety.

May you forget all the strings that pull you here.

#my poetry #first draft #drunk poetry #april 2021 #poetry month

[nourish-sustain-attack]

Useless Tongue

I imagine how your sighs feel, how your gasps taste, hearing all your urgency. I'd show you how the lamp light cannot highlight all your beautiful places as well as my breath. But you are miles away, And I'm watching my wasted hands pour wine, My useless tongue grow thick with tannins. So, I will write all the things I cannot say with my lips.

#my poetry #first draft #love poem #sex poem #sex #desire #girls who like girls

[nourish-sustain-attack]

On Lust and Hurricanes

This love is not an ocean. It's a puddle deep enough for our boot soles to dance through. Tomorrow this field will be mud.

#my poetry #first draft #i dont think this can last

[nourish-sustain-attack]

»this is a poetic statement« by luis camnitzer (+)

[nourish-sustain-attack]

If I knew where poems came from, I’d go there.

Michael Longley (via wordsnquotes)

[nourish-sustain-attack]

Books were safer than other people anyway.

Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane (via wordsnquotes)

[nourish-sustain-attack]

Poetry is the medium of choice for giving our most hidden self a voice—the voice behind the mask that all of us wear.

Stanley Kunitz (via poetsorg)