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scribblesonbrokenglass · 2 days

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Ivy

let’s catch sight of ourselves:

bones, brickwork and ivy

getting ever more tangled.

as green shoots descend,

clinging to the structure

of rising walls and rolling days,

then sometime in years,

when vines and stones

are one and the same,

when we both seem to shake

in the frosty breath of winter

and in summer’s dusty haze:

we will see ourselves,

in brickwork and ivy,

grown softer and much older.

#poem #poetry #spilled ink #writing #poets on tumblr #spilled thoughts #writer #writers #love #poet #writerscircle #writerscreed #writing the storm #write #writeblr

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bluestthingsonearth · 1 year

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a poem about distance

#poetry #my poetry #my art #the creature from the black lagoon #twcpoetry #13cupsofteareblog #writing the storm #poetryportal

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kirkshiresloss · 1 year

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You only miss me at 3a.m. when your loneliness crawls the walls of that apartment we used to call Home.

You only miss me when the other side of the bed isn't occupied by another placebo to get you by for the night.

You only miss me when an Isbell song comes on and you can't help but get dizzy remembering all the times I spun you around the kitchen like you were floating on air.

You only miss me when you're down on your luck and there's noone there to make me a common enemy.

You only miss me when you walk by the closet where you shoved all my paintings when I left. because spite wouldn't let you return them to me, yet you couldn't bear to look at them anymore..

You only miss me when you go to pick up those paint brushes that used to be mine. When you think of gesso, Bob Ross, or liquid white. Or Alabama 3 times. Salt & the Sea , The Lumineers, my fingers on the piano keys. Asking you to get me, when I felt insecure. And I know you couldn't have cleaned up all the paint that was on the floor.

You've deconstructed all we've built until you've rid yourself of the memories. But the things you seem to throw away are what meant the most to me. Pardon me for being rude or if this was unexpected. But I was always told since I was young much is given to those whom much is tested.

And ive felt forgotten, lost, and invisible before but I've never felt this small. sitting here by my lonesome, wondering if you even miss me at all..

-kirkshiresloss-

//deadsea//

@fadedawaywiththebreeze

03.23 original oil (24x30) cotton canvas "the last time"

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moonshineandvalentine · 7 months

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thesilentgazer · 2 years

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Anger is powerful. That is why you ask it to hide. Anger is grief's sister. She is mad, absolutely livid, that you try to hurt her. Anger is the father of sadness. He cannot believe that something like this could happen to his son. Anger is the neighbour of consequences, you cannot avoid it for long. Anger is your mother when she has had enough of the world. Anger is your blood and bones, and how long will you hide it away, when it has made a home there.

-gazergirl

#anger #writerscreed #short quotes #spilled thoughts #quotes #spilled words #spilled ink #poetry excerpt #poetsofficial #writersontumblr #re bumbleblossoms #writing the storm #inkstay #inkstainsandheartbeats

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chucklinggg · 14 days

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What will it be?

The love for you is of the aching kind

Knowing it won’t be returned in the way I’d like

I stare into your green almost all-knowing eyes,

Conversing to soothe the edges of my mind

But can I ever bring this up?

Storing the secret burns, the shimmering coal

Maybe you’d be flattered, to know that you’re loved

Slightly discomfited but you’d smile and squeeze my hand,

Asking when did I know?

Or more likely, you’d be horrified and you’d smile still,

But that smile wouldn't reach the corners of your eyes,

Either way, the months will turn into years,

You’ll find your first grey hair and think I had forgot,

Of the love that had kept me up,

That let salt-water weave its way down,

Still not realising,

The love for you is not of the fading kind.

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sometimes-it-takes-a-villain · 1 year

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Welcome to The Darkness. Step into the darkness of my writing world…if you dare.

The Writer:

I write dark things to keep the nightmares from crawling out.

Survives on coffee and eating poetry for breakfast.

Currently obsessing over malicious gods & ruthless goddesses, monsters and creatures and all things and beings deep, dark and deliciously twisted.

The WIP Obsession “The Darkness”:

This is my Passion project, my Personal Obsession.

It stays true to my Voice — I’m always going to be drawn to the dark and twisted. Villains, anti-heroes and antagonists are so much more interesting than the heroes.

But this WIP is not my usual psychological thriller with a supernatural/paranormal shadow.

This current Obsession — WIP — is a grimdark mythological dystopian fantasy.

This WIP world is full of dark gods and darker goddesses, monsters, creatures and morally gray people. My main characters are all anti-heroes and villains. It’s hard to tell the protagonists from antagonists because in this world everyone and everything is touched with a vein of darkness. It’s only the degrees of darkness that separate the characters.

When my favourite TV series, The Originals, ended its run…I was in withdrawal. I wanted more of the same. I wanted to write a huge, epic world-building story that just allows me to play on the page/screen. I just wanted to immerse myself in a world of ruthlessness and deep story threads set in a fantastical setting born from the darkest corners of my imagination. In fact, my beloved Klaus aka Niklaus Mikaelson (main Big “Bad” in The Originals) and his ruthless siblings are very much an inspiration for many of my characters.

I wanted to have a project that I can escape into, in breaks from rewrites/edits of my main WIP — The “Thriller”.  This Passion Project has actually been germinating quietly for the last few years. A seed was planted and I have been slowly watering it, waiting for the right time to work on it.  The working title for this series: “The Darkness” That is not the real title, I'm keeping the actual title secret for now. This is a deliciously dark, decadent tale that I want to keep mostly to myself for a while.

So this tumblr will be my notes on the behind-the-story-scenes of The Darkness. It’s a walk into my writing process. The consuming madness that consumes a writer when the right obsession comes along.

~ Come down the twisted rabbit hole into “The Darkness”…

“Don’t underestimate the allure of Darkness. Even the purest hearts are drawn to it.” — Klaus Mikaelson

“Always & Forever” ~ The Mikaelson Siblings

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zaunitanil · 10 months

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when did I begin to stop loving? I remember throwing myself into him pushing deeper, unraveling thoughts of planted inceptions of myself to let what’s wild become unloosened but now, today, I cry I cry and I cry and I can’t decipher why can’t feel anything other than an empty cave left unfilled there is something deep I need to release because why can’t I let you go? — zauni

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #writerscreed #zauni #writing the storm #blkcreatives

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presumptuous-poet · 2 years

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Video © Ryan Iocco 2022 / Buy image as a print

DM the artist @dreamrecycler1 ~~

Author tumblr pages:

@papers-in-the-attic (magnetic poems + art) 🎨

@littlepoetrybox (Poet's Notes Series) 📔

@buddhas-tears (quotes & inspirations) ☯️

~~

#digital art #digital video #surrealart #surreal landscape #illustration #poets on tumblr #digital media #graphic art #artists on tumblr #writers and artists #writing the storm #dreamingofmuses #my writing #video #writers on tumblr #meditation #dream art #visualjournal #visualart

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1introvertedsage · 1 year

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Duple

I could say I didn't see it coming - but that would be a lie.

I have felt it closing in - sight upon the high.

Missing every beat - purposeful shift of the feet.

But you're still there.

I would be a fool to think - I was the one in control.

Unheeded messages - beginning to take its toll.

Everyday doubt - blinds ability to see.

I'm reminded by the way - this isn't me.

Relieving darkness - inside my head.

Waking pieces - from the dead.

But you're still there.

If I understood it all - this would be over right?

Eyes wide open - staring at the night.

Head to the clouds - heart to the ground.

Dicrotic waves - filling the sound.

But you're still there.

Velocity attracting - sing a new creed.

Sinners have a past - life shifting on a breeze.

Calm the fears - creeping in again.

Pieces of me - leaving with the wind.

But you're still there.

It's not as violent - of an upheaval anymore.

Visually stimulating - masses with the lore.

Nothing can be - without cost.

Which way are you going - if you're already lost?

But you're still there.

Staying under the lights - only fools the self.

They all can see - what you keep on the shelf.

No light without dark - no in without out.

Selling false secrets - biggest mouth gets the clout.

But you're still there.

Electrifying dulled flames.

Still holding heads of shame.

Shells for the souls - still wandering the grounds.

Touch the waves - swimming in the sound.

Filling the noise - with colors of the spectrum.

Miss the beat - collect the breadcrumbs.

Higher moments - closing gaps of time.

Organize the messages - flooding the mind.

You're always there.

~Talitha~

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the-teacup-dragon · 2 years

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One day, death will take me

Not today

Surely not tomorrow

Maybe not for many years

Not till heaven and hell decides who gets me

#poem #writer #wip #wip excerpt #poetry #death #life #write #writing quotes #writing the storm #quote #from my wip #original #original poetry #words #spilled words #original content

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fs-lewisartistry · 2 years

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Role - Playing

Big Brother,

Won’t you hold me?

The night is oh, so still.

Big Brother,

Let me lay here,

Warm my body from the chill -

Of this blackened, hollow night.

And this stinging of delight.

Within your skin, I burn and ache -

And pray this soul is yours to take.

-FS Lewis 8/27/22

#smut #poetry #spilled ink #spilled poetry #poets on tumblr #poetry in motion #writing #lit #writing the storm #sexetry

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kirkshiresloss · 1 year

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Most nights I don't sleep. I'll catch 3 or 4 hours and be up again. Leaving one nightmare into another. Keep having the same dream everything is super white and crisp. I can hear the fake ass birds outside I can feel the warmth of your body beside me. I smell your hair and and doze back off but I never leave this dream everything goes black and I wake up to you rubbing my hands because they hurt. Likd when you rubbed them that one morning I remember thinking Justin please don't fuck this up because no one ever cared enough to do that for me. it's only a nightmare because I have to relive it and wake up to a reality where you and I are miles apart in more ways than one.

You never could sleep unless a part of you was touching me. Some nights I would crawl into bed just to make sure that you got sleep. And watching you sleep became a hobby of mine. And I can tell you where every hair on your head is supposed to be. I'd run my fingers over your skin. and I just knew I got you too soon.

Everything has this dull monochromatic look to it now. The paint doesn't coat the canvas & the colors don't blend like they used to. Even my brush strokes are desperate; pressing so hard I tend to rip the canvas apart. And it's always been so easy to leave at the slightest bit of discomfort but not this time. How could I leave someone who has given me so much and never asked for anything in return but my time and attention...

Like trying to recapture a moment.

Like lightning trapped in a bottle.

Like The Sun also rising and setting at the same time.

Feeling like every moment we've ever had is coursing through my veins and now i can't tell if I'm high or dying but baby it's almost too late to call it. If I could hand you the loaded gun I sure wish you'd pull the trigger on it all. I can't bring myself to do it.

I only write about it here because it has to have somewhere to belong. There is no more room inside of me to fit these memories. But I won't set them down...I won't ever set them down...

-kirkshiresloss

//dog in a manger//

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moonshineandvalentine · 2 years

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#writerscreed #poetwhispers #spilled ink #poetryportal #inkstay #poetry #poetryriot #writing the storm #smitten by poetry #creative writing #spilled thoughts #writers #poems on tumblr #my words #pieces of me #poets on tumblr #poetic stories #darkness

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woof-squiggles · 3 months

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nitten adoption day!

(psst, you can fill out an adoption form here)

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chucklinggg · 1 year

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Maybe you were a transitory stop

A mere collision of coincidences

A lesson that needed to be taught

Full stop

A feathery touch whose memory

Stubbornly, vehemently refused to fade

As I’d spin and spin in euphoric delight

Beneath a starry sky

At the end of each day

All soft smiles and softer words

But I see it now

I am not the priority, the one you seek

Delusions and spectres of hope

Nothing more

How could I have not known?

I emerge beaten

Heavier, limbs like not my own

I will trudge on

But my innocence is now lost

My heart forever closed

Full stop

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