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flowerytale · 19 days

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Nikos Engonopoulos, from Bolívar, a Greek Poem

#nikos engonopoulos #poetry #poem #long poem #greek poetry #fragments #lit #literature #flowers #*

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marxm0703 · 4 months

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🌕

A poem I wrote after fainting at work and seeing the reactions of those around me. Someone had made an insensitive joke and inspired me to write this. I put a lot of heartache into this so I hope others who ache too can enjoy. I personally think it's some of my best.

-Michael

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leenlue · 9 days

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Most days I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning

And when I do finally untangle myself from layers of sheets that strangle me

I daydream of being there again

Where the warmth of my blankets is equivalent to the comfort of a friend

Most days I don’t want to wake up

I want to rest my eyes

Not for five more minutes, more like five more months

In a perfect world I could stay as long as I want

I could sleep until all that’s left of this place is me and the trees

I once wrote a poem titled “my bedroom is trying to kill me”

But only because I feel compelled to never leave

My therapist calls this a symptom

But I disagree because I’ve always loved sleep

And what’s the harm in a little fatigue if I’m not hurting anybody?

Last week my mother told me I need to eat

She said she’s really starting to worry

But I see nothing wrong with taking a break and I’m in no hurry

I guess it just feels like things make more sense in my bed

I don’t feel so trapped in my own flesh I don’t feel like a prisoner to my own head

- d.

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ominousblob · 2 months

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//I have this secret that I don’t think I could ever share, but you won’t tell, will you? You couldn’t, even if you wanted to.

#my art #my writing #quotes #words #literature #short story #poetry #but not poetry. it’s like a poetic story or whatever…#it’s still embarassing to post my writing #and I know it’s long so not many people are gonna read it.#but whateverrrrr #long poem

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forestgirlpoems · 9 days

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Late Nights Lying in Bed

in a blue car the dome light refuses to die out;

a girl trying to find the reason, opening each door

trial and error in the darkness

heart beating one two

skipping one two

a mosquito buzzing and whining

right next to an ear

flying in and out of reach

pushing dials already dialed to the max

the lid must be removed

before the pot boils over

where's the lid in a human body

when all tears have run out dry

and a scream keeps building

and the heart keeps beating...

even at midnight

the light refusing to die out

#poetry #long poem #writerscreed #poeticstories #long time no poet #spilled ink #original poetry #spilled poetry #twcpoetry #poetic #late nights #poets on tumblr

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sevyn-stars · 8 months

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As The Poets Are

I hope I am remembered the way the poets are,

Walking around their world with elegance and grace.

Feared by those who have wronged me,

For their deeds lay immortalised in the tomb of ink;

The worst form of torture.

Loved by the ones who know me,

For their grace stays forever in the words I buried them in;

They will never truly die.

The word of a poet is a blanket of love.

One so many wish to feel the embrace of.

Living forever in a garden of words.

A garden that goes unwatered by so many.

I hope that someone waters my garden,

Like I water my poetic ancestors.

I hope I live my life,

And not hide within the comfort of a shadow.

I hope I am remembered the way the poets are.

And I hope you are too.

I'll water your garden,

If you water mine.

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jamerasjournal · 8 months

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Here we are, bound by a string that goes out of my heart and into yours, made of two souls twisted into one. I so often forget that you’ve been on this earthly side 10 years longer than I have. You, quiet and stoic, and me stumbling behind you, grasping for your coat tails asking questions that you always seem to have an answer for. When we first met I used to think that eventually you’d get tired of me. But if patience is a virtue, you truly are the most virtuous of us all. You’re still here.

You have one of the most beautiful hearts I’ve ever been blessed to hold. I didn’t know a chilly November night would bring me someone that would stick by my side the way you have. Everyone who knows us can feel how deeply we love each other. So deep, that many people aren’t even able to comprehend it. But we do. I moved 1000 miles away from home and the first gift Utah gave me was you. How you showed up exactly as I needed you to. It doesn’t make sense how we get on each others last nerve, but can’t stand being apart. How if we haven’t seen each other in 72 hours it feels like a puzzle piece is missing. Who else can I talk to through the sky? How intricately connected do you have to be to be able to feel each others vibrational frequencies. The way we can say, “I need you.” without a single word dropping from our lips. And yet, we always answer the call.

You’ve taught me that I don’t always have to speak, sometimes all I need to do is show up. In every season, in every storm. I’ve watched you transition from she to they. Watched the hair grow on your legs, I’ve watched your eyes light up when I tell you that you look handsome. You’ve taught me that you don’t need the same parents to be a sister, or certain body parts. That some things don’t make sense, they just are. You just are. Here for the vibes, even when you’re unwell. I know sometimes you fake it, cuz you’d do anything to keep my smile big and my eyes bright. You’d give me the world if I asked you for it. I know that’s too much, but if you smile for me one more time, I promise to pour the sweetness of life through the gaps in your teeth. You’re still here.

A psychic once told me that this is our 4th lifetime together. Thank you for finding me. It all makes sense now. I hope in the 5th one you’re not as sad. And if it so happens that the stars align and they spell out sorrow. Then I will beg and beg to take your place. That’s how much I love you. I am my sister’s keeper. And you’re still here.

You are a fighter. On the days when your spirit is bright. You are a fighter. On the days when you are stapled to the mattress with thoughts stuck in the back of your throat. You are a fighter. And you’re still here. My sister, my fiercest protector, I know there’s not too many people who love me the way you do. I am always reminded that best friends are so hard to find, because the very best friend is already mine. And you are still here.

-jamera naquai, You’re Still Here

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thisismynamenowxpoetry · 4 months

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ATTENTION GEN Z, I know we hate poetry, but please, if you've ever felt alone, or hated technology, or hated Gen Alpha, please read this, repost, do whatever, but please, this was written for all of you <3

The news this morning

Was talking about how we go to Chat GPT

For therapy

And advice

And my mother said it’s just because we don’t know how

To communicate face to face

When why should we?

You shoved an iPad into our faces

The second we were old enough to comprehend it

You put on the TV

And we believed the characters were speaking live

And they could see us

Through those pixels

Why shouldn’t we turn to a computer

To give us answers

When it’s that that gave us the issues to begin with?

Why shouldn’t we

Chat with a computer

About nothing and everything

When it is that

That made us feel so isolated?

People wonder

Why we’re so concerned about Gen Alpha

And it’s obvious

When we think about it

It’s not because they’re growing up too fast

It’s because we know what it’s like

To have wires shoved into our veins

And now

Now they were born with them

Already pulsing through their blood

We don’t want them to make the same mistakes we did

But I think it’s too late,

They’re already turning into what we don’t want

Anyone

To ever be

And it’s scary to watch,

We know what technology has done to us

And we don’t want to watch anyone else

Succumb to it like we did

We are the last generation

Who went outside to play

And know what birds sound like

And wish to break their phones

We are the last generation

That will ever

Ever

Have a normal childhood

Now we can just watch

As the depression rates get higher

And more young children know what suicide is

Too early

And learn how to self harm

And lose their innocence

And be scared of men

And not care for dolls

We are scared of them

But we’re scared for them

Of course we turn to AI to talk to

Our parents don’t get it,

They can barely find opening hours for a shop,

While we can find a 10-step guide on how to murder,

Or build a bomb,

And guides on how to manipulate your body

And everything is at our fingertips

This is generational trauma that they have created

We can watch someone shooting their brains out

And we can receive photos from anyone

And why do we know what everything we shouldn’t worry about is?

We had COVID

And we turned to screens

And went on TikTok

And created trends

And it felt like a community

Until everyone was there

And we couldn’t do anything

And we got addicted

And we can’t turn back

We started with chat rooms

And we found like minded-people

And it was always “sweetie, be careful of creeps on the internet”

And now it’s just

“Be in bed by 10”

But we’ll keep scrolling

And we all have friends who live half the world away

And if you mention that

Someone has to ask if you’ve called yet

And “have you seen their face?”

We can look at anything

There are guides for everything

We know where Kim K was two minutes ago

And why do I feel pressure to always have something on my story?

We talk to robots

Because no adults will ever know

How sick we feel

Before we go on our phones

No adults can know

How we’ve seen every scar

And depression become a trend

And we have to use the hashtag actuallyautistc

No adults will know

How there are video essays on anything

And we shouldn’t know about everyone that has been raped

Or murdered

And we shouldn’t have wikihow

On how to be attractive

It started as a joke,

How stupid is this thing I found?,

But we keep reading it

And we start to believe it

Why would we read books?

Technology is constantly advancing

Everything is irrelevant in months

And we must be careful not to be cancelled

And a dress can divide a nation

We don’t want to watch Gen Alpha

Leap so blindy into their screens

Trusting what they read,

We want to keep it for us,

We have to live with it,

And as much as they suck,

It is our fault for staying

And posting everything

We are a sad generation with happy pictures

And a face full of makeup

And we’re just perpetuating stereotypes

And you can’t like something unless you’re obsessed

We can know the cure for any medical condition

But there is no guide on how to destory our screens

And lives

And I know I’m fifteen

But this is ruining mine,

And so many others' lives.

We don’t want to see little kids

On their mums phones

And my mother defends it,

Saying mums just need a minute to breathe,

But please

Anything else

I don’t want to see a baby already addicted to CocoMelon

We don’t want to see

More people falling into a hole

And we know it’s why we’re sad

But nobody else should have to go through it,

That’s for us,

That’s an us problem

I saw a six year old

Using Drunk Elephant

And swearing in her GRWM

And none of that is fair,

How are we letting this slide?

But we can’t do anything

Because we don’t want to admit there’s a problem

We can learn anything about Hitler

And anything about Meryl Streep

And it can be within the same two fucking clicks

I remember

When my age on TikTok clocked over to 15

A few days before my actual birthday

And it was then

That all I saw was suicide notes,

And self harm scars

And how to hide things from your parents guides

And abuse stories

There was no going back,

Every other person whose a teenage girl on the app

Is probably met with the same things as me

The algorithm

Is designed to show you a positive video

Every few scrolls

Just to keep you hooked,

And it works,

It’s a science,

It works to a T

We can know where any friend is

And read receipts plague us

And anything will be screenshot

And used against you

School thought taking away our phones

Would fix this,

Like it’s a magical cure,

When all it’s teaching us

Is how addicted we are,

And how best to hide an earbud

And we need music to concentrate!

Or course we do,

We have constant stimulation

It is never quiet

There is always a voice talking

We are getting mad at kids for being on a phone

When we all know

We’re just mad that it is actually happening

And we can’t warn them

And no one will listen

Because how could it be that bad?

In ten years

People who grew up with technology

Are going to end up with something like PTSD

Because we can’t let go of it

We can’t put it down,

We can get an essay written for us in seconds,

And Dall-E can make anything for us

So of course we’ll talk to AI,

It’s better than talking to a real person

And acting like we’re okay,

We’d rather sit behind a screen

And control sims

And listen to music

So we can’t hear our minds

Every time I scroll through

I’m met with tales of girls who get killed by their fathers,

Every time I scroll through

I’m showen another 7 second video

With sad litte text

On sad little faces

We want to escape,

We want to tear our veins out,

Rip the wires,

Shove them back in to our body

After we re-wire our brains,

Of course,

Because we can diagnose ourselfs with any mental illness

That we see fit

Because there has to be something wrong with you

We will never go back,

It is impossible

We have Whispers from Pinterest

And sad purple quotes

Lining our camera roll

Which should highlight our happy moments

But is just videos of us crying

It has ruined relationships,

How dare we follow another guy,

How dare he like another girl's photo?

We have our music right there

We don’t have to learn lyrics,

We can play any instrument,

We must like Taylor Swift,

We must have Kanye West

Everything is a trend

And your clothes must match your aesthetic

And you have to be funny

Or smart

Or creative

And how dare we burn out?

How dare we burn out

When if we didn’t rot in our beds

Scrolling aimlessly

Would solve half our problems?

There is no fix now,

We have to watch them grow up

Knowing they’ll ask what this-big-word is

Before they’re even five

Because an ad came up on mummy’s phone

And “what’s a vape?”

And “am I fat?”

All we can do now

Is listen to our sad songs

And act like social media

Didn’t ruin our perceptions

On everything.

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env0writes · 19 days

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NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 4.5.24 “That Ain't Playing Phaoroh at the American Dream“

What’s a dollar Dollar bill Y’all? Lying? Trying? Dying? For this green? Grass and trees and leaves fall all the same Why play pretend with markets in the clouds What is a dollar, a buck, a doe? Although without I’m dying, trying, lying Asking why I’m not enough Dollar bill, y’all Survive on these slip Slip, slip, slippery slope Pink slip car loan Pink slip house loan –Reminder I’m a man– Can’t afford my home, my car, my life What’s a dollar An hour? How many? I’m spending my day working for so little When the bed I sleep in, in the house I weep in Will never be bought with that labor Who enjoys the fruits of these planted labors? What juice spills from distant lips?

What’s a dollar? Dollar bill Y’all aren’t all vying for more? Trying for more Dying for more? Why must we play pretend–passing ice-coins Wintered the weather about to maintain this illusion This song and dance Won at the tip of a lance Am I to die on the streets where I sleep After a hard days work Gunned down by a passerby whose offense is taken At my presence In my work, when offense is taken At my presence What sense does it make to not be seen Santa’s little helpers Slaving away So some other might gloat and tote Can I sleep on it? Wipe my weeping tears on it? Who will take what I have Leaving what little for tomorrow And tomorrow’s tomorrow Before I again have to borrow So that this cycle of green Of greed Of grasses–greener Perennially blooms; forebodes doom

Where is safe from this dollar? Dollar bill Y’all The grass is always greener The management always meaner The bankers always keener I am saving, graving, paving the way But not to walk upon but on I am the stone–ascended Who can afford to be single? Who can afford just one? In a market that’s rising–water levels Left to drown I can swim–only so long Tread water, dread water, fed water And drown Green stays afloat It is soluble, solution, able and capable Why must I live to work and not Live and work Where did the and’s go? Where did the green go? Barren and wearing no colors of life The suburbs and cities and folks are all white Washed and packaged for resale again No space is owned save the barony lords

What is a dollar? Dollar bill Y’all Learn all day To work all day ‘Til your dying day What is there to say? “He was a busy and dedicated man to his work” Will his work remember him Remembered for his work Who will grieve the cog replaced The seed replanted The crack that’s mended When the old days are waning The sunset soon fading I will keep working for that return of the green The average mean The stacks slapped in my hand To feed and afford what I can Because what use is a dollar That can never call her Back Buy my time Back Take it all Back What use is a dollar? That can’t buy back my time wasted in youth In adulthood so ruth-lessly sought

What is a dollar? Dollar bill Y’all Aren’t struggle to own any bit of your life Your car is on loan and your house and your wife At the slightest inconvenience The drop of margins Swoops the executive C On to elevate thee Claiming your purchases are just temporary They’ve licensed your time Your work and Your sight All that you own And all that you might Work for that dollar Plug and play on their game I’ll keep dreaming, Filling reem in -of paper And dream of my paper My dollar Dollar bill Y’all

@env0writes C.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists! Photo by my friend Mika

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shrxmpyyy · 5 months

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The Moon, the Earth, and the Sun

I love you

I love you like the moon loves the earth, Admiring from afar

Unable to get close.

A slow, eternal dance between

A dreamer and their fantasies

I love you like a dog loves it's person

Blind trust in you, unyielding passion

But you love him.

I can tell when you talk to him,

About him

The way you look at him

The way you're drawn to him

Like the earth is to the mighty sun

The elaborate dance

Between your souls

And he loves you.

I can tell by

How he lights up when you walk in a room

Like someone returning home their dog

Greeted with adoration

I love you so much,

That I'll stop loving you.

Or try to, at the very least.

I'll love you like the moon loves the earth,

Watching from a distance

Slowly inching away to avoid

The aftermath

Maybe I'm afraid

Afraid that you two will last

Afraid you'll never love me like I do you.

My fear, my love, and I will observe

Like the moon does to earth.

Mourning it's love.

I realize now that I am the moon, you are my dear, sweet earth

And he is your blazing, adoring sun.

I'm accepting these cosmic laws

Keeping me from you

Accepting that you'll always choose him,

That he has more to offer

That he's better for you than I could ever be

The sun is powerful, strong, and caring

The moon is cold, and hides parts of itself

From the view of others

But I can't seem to stop thinking of you

Can't seem to stay away from you

Almost as if we're

Tidally locked

Destined to stay together,

Destined to be apart.

#shrxmpyyy #vent poetry #poetry #poem #poems on tumblr #love poem #poems and poetry #spilled poetry #original poem #my poem #music recs #music #alex g #long poem #long post #Spotify

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angelluvrs · 3 months

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Fantasize

I dreamt a perfect fantasy of you

My knee touched yours

and you didnt pull back

You rested your hand

and gave me your eyes

I melted inside

You tell me you could tell

by the way I talk to you

I didnt pull away

Entangled in eachother

When you touched me so tenderly

You healed the wounds other men had left in me

I woke up longing

for a moment nonexistent

Broken once again

I went back to sleep

#writing #gedichten #poëzie #young writer #books & libraries #gedicht #long poem #poem #poetry #writing community #poems on tumblr #love poem #poems and poetry #short story poetry by rs #poets on tumblr #original poem #poems and quotes

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mysmallviolin · 6 months

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when i was two hundred pounds i told my doctor in a fit of impulsivity that i didn't even plan with the small hope he'd stop me before i got too far: "i'm not hungry" he said, "good, you could stand to lose some pounds" and sent me on my way with a flash of approval in his eyes when i was one hundred fifty pounds i told my therapist hesitant, but still wishing desperately someone would save me from myself with the lingering hope she'd stop me before i got too far: "i'm not eating" she said, "good, you could stand to lose some pounds" and sent me on my way with a flash of approval in her eyes now i weigh one hundred and three struggling not to dip any lower despite my brain telling me that i need to my doctors, they now say "you should eat more" with a disappointed look in their eyes this is what they wanted, though they told me this was good losing weight was the best thing for me, right? no matter how it's lost? i hate them, for turning away for looking past the words where i begged them to listen, for once, just listen where i begged them to help and they never did thank you, doctors for all your wisdom thank you for supporting me and my anorexia for helping me lose all those evil, evil pounds. thank you for helping me kill myself slowly

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leenlue · 18 days

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- d.

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naeemajusthasthoughts · 5 months

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POV

I don't think that you tried to see it from my point of view The hellish sort of pain that only you could put me through. I don't think you can see that underneath I have accepted the plea a non-verbal sort of surrendering me There are no words that could be said no apology that could mend this fence yet I have silence myself to hold on the last piece of peace and not make a monster out of me The anger that spoke The words that intended to hurt That hard rock shell was never a shelter it was only a pretence those cracks are too deep to repair. I don't think you have tried to ask the other side only a straight long road with blinkers on the sides, it is in those hidden paths that I reside in hidden in and hoped so deeply, that I could make it one day without fighting to not be afraid, still you have hurt me once again. Though perhaps it was me this time feeling the lost feeling of being left outside and those voices fighting in my mind, But only one that's too loud and too proud stubborn with on emotions resting inside It laughs every time. Setting what I knew from those dark days And this feeling doesn't seem to go away. I don't think you have ever tried to see it from my point of view You have always loved taking sides that only suited you left me on the outskirts trying to find myself anew and God knows I have tried to but this voice inside It doesn't want me to let go any time too soon.

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slouchingwriter · 1 month

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I have many memories of poverty, some better or worse, one that sticks with me on an ordinary day is having the soap disappear on your hands because it is so diluted with water, or no soap at all. Or one towel for a household, third in line for bathwater. I'm only 33 years old and when I tell people this they think I'm not telling the truth. That it couldn't have been that bad because things have changed since they learned about workhouses in school. The thing is, when you're poor you have things, sure - a phone but you might need to sell it, buy another, sell that. You need furniture so it's second hand, and I don't mean a beautiful oakwood countertop, I mean the sofa someone scrapped ten years ago because it collapsed. Buy a dishwasher. Hard when you when you move house every six months, or less. Can't afford movers, or a car that works for longer than a month. Life is transient, luxuries are short lived, there were times when I was young when we had new bedding, and new towels, but we had the same set for months, unwashed because we couldn't afford the launderette. Torn and threadbare because my parents were so depressed, sewing takes time, it takes energy. It takes skill. Bake your own bread, but we couldn't afford the ingredients, the time, and for two years we had no kitchen, just a sink at the top of the cellar stairs. No breakfasts, no lunches for school, not being able to go to school because you were needed at home. No further education because you needed to go to work because if you don't, we can't afford the rent. I'm not writing this for sympathy, this is reality for the majority - I just need people to realise that poverty is very real and it's everywhere, and it looks exactly like those documentaries and period dramas, only you're not Elizabeth Bennet, you're the underpaid servant in the background.

#poetry #prose poetry #long poem #poverty #my poem #poems #poetry on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr #creative writing #uk #poverty in the uk #short story #get rid of this idea that people on benefits are taking the piss

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interwovenwordsmith · 8 months

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A lengthy poem (or collection of poems?) about the Forgotten Crossroads and its inhabitants. Despite this piece not being in the category of my usual writing style, it was still extremely fun to compose. Though I had to revise this poem many times, due to my messy grammar.

#poetry #hollow knight #young poets #photopea #long poem #the last stag #false knight #snail shaman #gruz mother #brooding mawlek #myla #Sorry about the amount of tags #have a good day <3

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