Song Poem
“put ur Spotify on shuffle and write down the first lyric of the first ten songs that come on, post the poem that results” (character playlist edition)
Tagged by @teethingpains (<3 <3 <3)
These are all from my Genesis playlist (you know I have one it's fine) so let's see how we go hey?
First the mic then a half cigarette
we were speeding together down the dark avenues
I'm gonna make you bend and break
won't someone give me a gun?
Now and then I think of when we were together
so we all are growing old and getting old
I really don't know what I'm doing here
here on these cliffs of Dover
Stop me, oh stop me
When there's nowhere else to run
Well that's kind of cool!!! Very him XD thanks so much for the tag!
I'll tag @rainbowcarousels , @queernoctis and @breserker and anyone else who wants to do it!!!
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Guys...
(Dont mind me copy pasting the lyrics because im having a cursh on someone and I think im lesbian.)
Palad ay basang-basa
Ang dagitab ay damang-dama
Sa 'king kalamnang punong-puno
Ng pananabik at ng kaba
Lalim sa 'king bawat paghinga
Nakatitig lamang sa iyo
Naglakad ka nang dahan-dahan
Sa pasilyo tungo sa altar ng simbahan
Hahagkan na't 'di ka bibitawan
Wala na 'kong mahihiling pa
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
'Di maikukumpara
Araw-araw kong dala-dala
Paboritong panalangin ko'y
Makasama ka sa pagtanda
Ang hiling sa Diyos na may gawa
Apelyido ko'y maging iyo
Naglakad ka nang dahan-dahan
Sa pasilyo tungo sa 'kin
At hinawakan mo ako't aking 'di napigilang
Maluha nang mayakap na
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw
Ikaw at ikaw (ikaw at ikaw, ikaw at ikaw)
Ikaw at ikaw (ikaw at ikaw, ikaw at ikaw)
Ikaw at ikaw (ikaw at ikaw, ikaw at ikaw)
Ikaw at ikaw (ikaw at ikaw, ikaw at ikaw)
palad ay basang-basa, ang dagitab ay damang-dama
(Ikaw at ikaw) sa 'king kalamnang punong-puno
(Ikaw at ikaw) 'di maikukumpara, araw-araw kong dala-dala
(Ikaw at ikaw) paboritong panalangin ko'y...
Ikaw. <3
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The Garden of Eden’s song...
Misunderstandings bloom like bitter flowers, In the garden of the mother-daughter hours.
Silent screams and heard cries that only go unnoticed.
A portrait painted with tear-streaked eyes.
Yet, within the pain, a yearning plea, For healing, understanding, a chance to be free.
In the poignant dance of hurt and sorrow, a melody of tears, a sincerely sorrow song.
The Garden of Eden's vines dance to this treacherous melody, though the song of grief does amass, to take a toll on such a soul, the flood waters may not pass.
To think of who I am and who I ought to be, when I look in the mirror all I see, is yet a reflected version of you
—Oresteia…♡
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{ HISTORY OF MAN } — Maisie Peters
He stole our youth and promised heaven
The men start wars yet Troy hates Helen
Women's hearts are lethal weapons
Did you hold mine and feel threatened?
Hear my lyrics, taste my venom
You are still my great obsession
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“He stole her youth and, promised heaven.”
When you say words to me, sweet ones. The ones that make your heart tingle. I don’t believe. I’ve given my heart before and is was returned battered. How can I trust you.
“The men start wars, yet Troy hates Helen”
You treat me like I am Helen. Kidnapped by your enemy so you have to fight to get me back. You forget that it was not her fault that Troy was destroyed. That the gods made Paris fall in love, but the gods did not make him kill.
“Women’s hearts are Lethal weapons, did you hold mine and feel threatened.”
My heart is strong. I use it like a weapon but it is still mine to use. I gave it to you and it came back broken. Did you feel threatened by my encompassing love for you. Did you?
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Revised my Pinocchio poem
A rusted quill,
Stained by years of misuse,
Scratches at worn fabric.
It longs for the simplicity of paper,
Yet it expresses these longing by lashing out.
Desperate strokes shred the cloth.
They bleed.
They break.
Ink spills and dots the footnotes.
An explosion of color
An imitation of art
Yellowed lilies soak up the warmth.
Ground-shaking and reality-breaking
And yet the world does not halt.
The world does not stand to negotiate,
Does not erase what has been sketched.
It simply rolls by,
A circle rounded with no end.
A rotation that was inevitable yet unpredictable.
Tears in the fabric cling to wholeness.
Glossy stitches attempt to fix what can only be
Mended.
And years later the subject of our revision will rest
On the shoulders of a wearier figure,
Joints popped,
Arms loosened,
On oaky floors dusted by years of footprints,
Boards bent and worn by a stool's shadow.
A simple throne
On which I used to perch,
Yielding my mighty sword.
Regaling tales of what this shop once held.
A fairy tale whispered from the cracked lips of wooden boys,
Boys who were whittled into weaker men.
Fractions of fiction rattled out from a marred toy,
Stained with ink,
Knees weak.
Held together by white strings
And silver lies.
A puppet-maker's sonnet.
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Sunsets
I watched the Sun go down with you,
And we both went down, too.
It was the three-hundredth time,
Back when we were both still alive.
…But does anyone notice? But does anyone care? And if I had the guts to put this to your head…
It was only natural that we leaned on each other.
As we weathered this storm together,
We always stood side by side,
Hand in hand, your hand in mine.
…But does anything matter if you're already dead? And now should I be shocked, now, by the last thing you said?
We wandered this forsaken world,
Nothing but one other to hold.
Bodies of things once-living, now dead,
Miles away from the town we fled.
…Before I pull this trigger, your eyes vacant and stained, And in saying you loved me made things harder, at best…
Only one bite, I thought you'd be fine,
We told ourselves a comforting lie.
The infection took you away from me,
Left behind your body a shell, empty.
…And these words changing nothing as your body remains, And there's no room in this Hell, there's no room in the next…
I can't seem to bring myself to
get rid of what's left of you.
There's no living eyes in this world
left to watch me unravel.
…But does anyone notice there's a corpse in this bed?
This is a derivative and transformative work.
Concept, story, and select lyrics taken from “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville” by My Chemical Romance.
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My Love
(A poem based on this song and music video by Mitski)
cw suicide
____
I built this gray room.
I built it with bricks and mortar
And paint and cement
Handed to me by the bucketful
Every day I come home
With a boulder in my lap
I stack it outside
One by one
When there is nothing
But shade in the field
I know it is time
To climb.
To stack
All the chairs
I nearly hung my
Self from
I'll glide my hands
Along their etched wood.
Their soft wood
Held my weight
Who could blame such an innocent object?
I stack them
One by one
On top an egg
Near-crushed
'Neath the lowest leg
Seated at the top,
I can only see the sun
Through a
Clenched fist
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One day I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do, I'll be thinking of you.
k.b. // laufey, philharmonia orchestra - let you break my heart again
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maybe you weren’t the one for me but deep down I wanted you to be
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Songs So Beautiful They Might as Well Be Poems
In this article, we present a collection of songs that are celebrated not only for their musical brilliance but also for their profound and poetic lyrics.
Songs So Beautiful They Might as Well Be Poems
Song lyrics that are poems are more common than you think. Poetry and songwriting both employ stanzas afterall. Throughout history, music and poetry have been intertwined, with songwriters often drawing inspiration from poetic elements to craft timeless masterpieces. In this article, we present a collection of songs that are celebrated not only for…
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