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chuckakot · 2 hours ago
I love your flaws, I love the imperfection of your mood, how it lifts and descends like a tail, I love your boredom, I love your askant expression, I love it when you say no, I love you as a scenery, I love your cravings and how you will change your mind abruptly, is this not appealing to your emotions as well as lovelily, to be derived in your name, to utter the wild syllables that burn bright in my lips, or to be enamored in your ways, that is, somehow, amicable, inviting, aggrandizing.
— Chuck Akot, to be enamored in your ways
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psgarcia · 3 hours ago
i've been trying really hard to not tie my own happiness to other's happiness.
it's not working out so well. either way. who would have thought.
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ellenya · 5 hours ago
One day, one rhyme- Day 2683
It is a classic three wheeled bike,
Although more airborne than I’d like,
Hung from a winch, attached by chain:
Tricycle hanging from a crane.
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therebepoems · 6 hours ago
What used to be spectacular
Is now only
Mediocre in my eyes.
I cannot mourn
All that I've forgotten to love.
And I cannot mourn our love
Because it hasn't been known.
Please don't come home.
Alex Delorme
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chuckakot · 7 hours ago
I find it strange, this life if it is truly my own, for my own sake, I may not be able to digest its causal taste, but I am more than myself, I am a multitude of moods and pleasure, I do not simply cling to one sensation, I embrace desire, I eat its flesh, this is my worth, this is how I am going to please myself, this is how the honey is descending from its cave, this thing that is in me, this thing that I cannot fathom, this thing that I cannot possess, is consuming me, all of me.
— Chuck Akot, i find it strange
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mega2wheellife · 7 hours ago
her songs
she told me late one night
were all about her relationships with men
her absent father who then died early
leaving her fully abandoned
the fellas she met while on the road
at gigs between venues musician parties
some she lived with for a little while
& a few she truly loved
accepting their frailties with booze the drugs
but she did not once tell of her own frailties
except for her love of the men with these
thinking her songs were enough
to fill in the gaps
neil benbow
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mega2wheellife · 7 hours ago
bog roll bingo blues
the silly things you do
as a couple
to play games
fill the mundane
we’d play bog roll bingo
the rules
anything less than 3 squares of TP left
have to change the toilet roll
if YOU find 3 or more squares left
& use those
the changing will be down to you
which trumps that stupid game
of toilet seat up or down
you men leave it up complaint
you women as strong independent thinkers
can put it down response
those games lead to fights
bog roll bingo has yet to do this
so far…
neil benbow
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ellenya · 7 hours ago
Bruce (@rabbruad1) wrote:
‘Mr. Mellencamp learned how to grow melons at melon camp.’
The melon camp was run by Helen McGelanamp, who also ran the felon camp across Lake Chelonhamp. She teaches melon growing, Milan lamp making and is the champion of the well-and-cramped damper society, where they make soda bread in the old well. If Mr Meloncamp’s melons are anything to go by, she’s quite the gardener, Bru!
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courtneyopoetry · 7 hours ago
one-night stands
These one-night stands,
I feel so empty inside.
Arrive home, wanting to cry,
why did I do this? oh, God, why?
I lost my mind, and it didn't even feel right
I want my dream
because yours stink
Your dream rots me within
Skip the ring and the kids
skip the void of blurry trysts
bringing nothing but bile and tears
I just want you
to make my skin burn
It's slow but it grows, sure
it's not with anyone in the world
it's not about getting drunk
it's not about losing touch with your guts
for now, you're the one
Lust, lust my motor
bite my lip in the subway
and fuck me when we get home,
but this is not lust,
this is something much worse
this is a porno gone wrong
this is the driest sex, this is a gash in the chest
I enjoy it, to some point, but not fully there
I tried to be free this way, I couldn't - so fake
Why don't you let it flow? You say you do,
but you don't. you aren't aware
you are a slave to masters you haven't chose yourself.
Let's go nuts for keeps and for real, so
Skip the wedding, skip Christmas at home.
Skip the feeling that nothing matters,
this putrefacted un-conception of soul,
this disconnection,
this being so alone, and calling it fun,
skip stuffing your holes with trash, what for?
These one night stands
opening the wound
rather than closing the gap
you cum, and I don't
I think that sums it all up.
we've been sold this shit
but wake up people, it's not fucking real
Your lacks are not my fault, dear
I see your crap, I see your sexism, I see your fear,
I see your poverty and saying you're filthy rich
we've been told this the way to go
yet I don't get my sugar at all, I know what I need,
and this is not it,
so I'm signing off. So long.
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rhapsodyinblue45 · 8 hours ago
you drift in between moods
as clouds converging
heaviness clinging
between breaths
my breasts
still hold last night's
eyes steeped
in decadence
desire, chiseled lips
sensuous confessions
arousing my blush
your lone star
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still-beliefs · 8 hours ago
I’m a backwards giraffe
Neck too tall to
Be elegant in the turn around
And they think being so tall
Looking down
Means anything better but
It’s all awkward
My fist hurts from tightening this grip
Like dear life holding onto
Woman like deer in the headlights
Anything too bright
Stalling or running
I let go again
Acres of land but no grain to the grass
Wild are we in this perspective
I can never never see you again
Because my memories are too vivid
Sometimes I wonder if it’s a peering in to another timeline
Where everything I could’ve done made things different
Usually for the worse but this is the curse of man
My father is there telling, I’m yelling like
A crooked hairline trying to compensate
I wake up and it’s never you but honestly
It’s true me I’m a little boy
Flame inside and the candy store just
Does not interest me
I want belief that breaking down will actually make me stronger
I want to know this is all a grand rope that never breaks no matter how long you hang on
Dwindling is not worth the weight you put on
It’s not one way or the other
It’s a revolving door there’s a roundabout
Where you used to speak to me calmly
Then angrily
Only veering off when there’s no noise anymore
Understanding the blank space
You fountained me
Bound to go up and go back around
Embracing the what if’s and god damnit
I want to be a rocket ship
Bring me to outer space and
Love me like the earth was never there
Stars and planets full of
Beauty but only us there
That kind of love I sidetrack to constantly
You lock eyes and I capsize like a ship steered terribly
Goodnight but not goodbye
It’s time for them to take me and threaten
The only thing I have that makes a difference
My love is worth a chase
My life is not up to negotiate
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env0writes · 9 hours ago
Tumblr media
May Have Written 17. “Will Songs Be Made For This Eulogy?”
From freedom blooms, And breeze It blows Over the fields Where travelers roam Dandelion wishes, Clustered cast strewn Granted wings, Rise high, they flew Beyond the lakes Reflecting clear blue skies Filled with fish That gaze up high Out past the firs That filled the hills Compete against the height Who was here first?
When Land begins to desiccate And masses start to Decimate When will the Decibel Of shouts and cries Move the Decimals On foreign charts And Foreign yields That construct Their shrines to Dedicate After all the freedom Billows blows Whose bruised And wind-scorned Egos throw The logging fields Placate The masses Constructing more Statues for birds to Defecate upon
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teaspirationss · 10 hours ago
if you lay your head on his chest and breathe really slowly you can hear the sound of wildflowers growing, and long lost dreams slowly dying.
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daytim-e · 10 hours ago
Memories are like waves crashing in,
surging up from the depths of me.
Buoyed by indecision, they beat relentlessly
against a thick skull and faint heart.
Tides that continue to return,
no matter how hard I try to shatter the moon.
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poetbitesback · 11 hours ago
there is a chiming on the porch I am the breeze moving metal, drifting between gaps in the wood  to peer at what happens behind closed doors  where I pretend I am not
maybe I never was and never will be. 
there is something awful in losing time  in letting coffee go cold without realizing  and taking a sip expecting the warmth  to rush through your old bones-- we are cold and wet and tired. 
in another life we drowned ourselves 
today I drive over the speed limit  hugging the curb like a lifeline  for someone else, someone bodied  and whole who puts on a watch every morning like its the easiest thing in the world 
- 5.15.2021, Olivia Larson 
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prasannawrites · 12 hours ago
the clock takes to 4/4 time; i'm here but rooted somewhere else. i'll pluck the flowers off of me to fashion you a bouquet – but there are none, i think the last part of me has withered last night. you no longer gaze at me, but look – an unattached observer, i was always eclectic you recount, but lately there has been no rhyme or reason. i speak to you, in a different tongue, but you do not hear me. it's as if gravity has shifted and i am the only one suspended in free-fall. you're an anchor, you anchor me, you’ve let me loose, you’re not you, you never were you. you don’t remember the garden of that quaint little house by the school do you? it was always in bloom, even in winter – you know what i've done.
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oldsoulnewmoon · 12 hours ago
was my breath in his where I have shared loves beauty sinking into skin
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