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instruth · 2 days

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THE LINGERING TASTE OF THY LOVE

The taste of thy love lingers here

whether thou art far or near

I know the sweetness of thy love

my memory screens our evening stroll

down the blossomed garden, anointed

Our fingers in clasped sensuous touch

studying the starry sparkles in thine eyes

listening to the whisperings of thy voice

as we embrace under the Lovers Arch

crowned by the rainbowed bougainvillea

Beneath the shadow of a silvery moon

I catch the fragrant scent of thy presence

and I became fondly intoxicated

circling my arms around thy slimly waist

sniffing deeply with passionate care

Running my lips over thine slender neck

till at last our searching lips do meet

Oh! Our first ever tender loving kiss

to spur the throbbing of our hearts

by a splendor of grand togetherness

In thee I am captured, most willingly

in sweet surrender, my beloved

imprisoned in thy generous heart

An everlasting imprint in my soul

The lingering taste of thy love

©Johnny J P Lee

17 April 2024

A Gogyoshiren Poem (25)

Photo Credit, J. P. Lee

#poetryportal #writerscreeds #smittenbypoetry #spilledwords #writingthestorm #poeticstories #inkstainsandheartbeats #writtenconsiderstions

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heartofmuse · 1 year

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Truth is that the heart needs more forms of love from your partner than just romantic love. It needs the nurturing and unconditional love like the one that comes from a parent. It needs the love that helps you achieve your maximum potential, that empowers your virtues and is patient with your flaws like that of a teacher. It needs the love of a friend who will listen without judgment, who will laugh with you and be your confidant and accomplice. It needs the devoted love of a healer who will tend to your wounds and hurts and never turn a blind eye to your suffering but rather help the healing process knowing all the time the healing and the timing is all yours. Love is more than just romance and passion, and sooner or later it will die out if you do not nurture all the other faces of love. For if love has a thousand faces, how bland would it be if my love for you were the same one all the time.

e.v.e.

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prasannawrites · 6 months

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before i sleep.

#poetry #poeticstories #writerscreed #deadwatered #smittenbypoetry #inspireamuse #writingthestorm #writtenconsiderations #poetryportal #poetryclub13 #spilled ink #poems #love #love poems

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hathaway-hayes · 1 month

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087

The peach tree in Mama’s backyard Beckoned me home, Abode atop a mountain I’ve never owned, Soil, beneath feet, I’ve barely known.

And it’s within this grand scheme of Her name, “Zhang,” A name, adopting me and etched upon a time, Temples built “then” to bridge tomorrow’s trace,

That I first taste - To belong. To be. To become. To shed the shadow of the nameless. I no longer fear the end. I await it.

- Hathaway Hayes (2024)

#writerscreed #twcpoetry #poeticstories #spilled ink #writingthestorm #poem #poetry #peots #authors #writers #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #china #home #travel #family

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persephoneshellhounds · 11 months

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Will I ever possess the softness I pretend to have?

— Fray Narte

Gif from: Stealing Beauty (1996) // Dir. Bernardo Bertolucci

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internalearthquake · 1 month

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my ghosts within

In the midst of what seems mundane lies a hidden world

Ghosts surround me, accompanying my every step

The lost, the unmet, the real, the imagined

These translucent entities haunt and console me

Wispy figments shift in and out of awareness

Subdued whispers, their presence felt but never seen

What may seem ordinary masks profound challenges

I push aside my ghosts who yearn to be acknowledged

Fragile mind oscillates betwixt clarity and confusion

A perpetual struggle to live in the present

The universe is littered with daily reminders

of what once was…

of what could have been…

of what I have lost…

of what was never mine…

of what will never be…

Every hushed whisper, every reverberating echo

My ghosts represent these fragments of my narrative

An incomplete history of distortions and illusions

Leaves me feeling incomplete

So, who am I?

What may often be overlooked carries significance to me

Unanswered questions ignite chaos within my mind

I navigate an unsolvable labyrinth of mystery

External investigations cannot unveil these buried truths

Healing lies in reconciling with my ghosts within

Dialogue with them holds the key to my liberation,

Clearing away the misty fog that clouds my perception

By forgiving the past and accepting the unknown,

I can release my ghosts from my internal world

Empowered, I can forge my own narrative,

Finally discovering who I am

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n-ehpamoi · 2 months

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And You taught me that maybe, I shouldn't be shaping myself to the expectations of others, just for a morsel of love

And you? You taught me that no one could ever really react to what makes up who I am -- we are all just guessing at the shape and place of all the edges of each other's souls --

And she taught me that the ones that accuse you tend to perpetrate the very things they worry you do --

And the last one, You? Taught me that I can't trust the words "I love you,"

because even when you mean it, believe it with your whole heart, you can be wrong --

and eventually, when you realize, I'll only be left alone again.

Why do lovers have to be lessons?

#poeticstories #writerscreed #writtenconsiderations #smittenbypoetry #recognizingthevoiceless #writingthestorm #poetryportal #inkstay #twcpoetry #poem #poetry #original poetry #original poem #m

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nikithathampy · 4 months

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You are enough. Thinking about you, I mean. Until that day comes when my mind is feeble enough to recall even parts of you, until then I'm satisfied with fondly remembering you. I'm content to just miss you when I love you. When the details all begin to fade, I would still remember the feeling they left. When you are no more a person I can find strength to imagine, I'll resort to looking myself in the mirror. Where I am is where you are. And there you are, in the cloud behind my eyes. All that I see, clear or not, is all that you show me. And you've shown me such wonders in life, everything else falls short before it. I see you all the more when I fail trying to see. Half of me, is the whole of you. The whole of me, is the whole of you. I love you. I always do.

~nt

#shewritesnomore #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #writtenconsiderations #poeticstories #writingthestorm #writerscreed #smittenbypoetry #deadwatered #bitsofstarglow #poetryportal #writeblrcafe #twcpoetry #poetry #poetwhispers

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autumnsunshine10 · 5 months

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They say keep it on the down-low

Nobody else needs to know

Don't give them the lowdown

It's not their business anyhow

Be human but set apart

Pretend you don't own a heart

Then it can't be broken

Divided into tokens

Inserted at the arcade

Another game to be played

Or a digital download

To keep them busy on the road

Serving up sold-out shows

Under the spotlight glow

A full house eager crowd

Getting so hyped-up loud

While you sit up at home

Waiting by the telephone

Well it's a good time to go

Since nobody needs to know

Prompts: on the down low; human but not; to be divided

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mortalghost · 4 months

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Look at the way my hands are open

Awaiting on a world that doesn't care.

All of the memories and the words,

I have written and spoken,

Leave nothing to hold and no room for air.

I've drowned in the feelings of loss

While abandonment has embraced my needs

Yet I try, and I lie, as I raise my hands to a mourning that consoles the deepest parts of my broken heart and untethered soul

Find nothing but comfort in this unending pain and suffering in a world in disarray.

Will I find you there?

I can hold my breath and pray

As time learns to move on without me.

-H. Murcia 12/18/2023 1:12 PM

#twcpoetry #writerscreed #poeticstories #poetryportal #writingthestorm #writeundertheinfluence #writeblrcafe #spilled ink #spilled words #prose poetry #poetry #mortalghost #poem

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kiramalibu · 5 months

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if i knew the moon was

what you wanted

i would’ve tried until

my last breath to

get it for you

but i was chasing sunrises

and falling for everything

you would tell me when

the sun would set

i’ve never loved someone

as much you, but i wish

we never met

i can’t keep losing my

youth to such men

they make me never want

to love anyone again

kira malibu

#kiramalibu #writerscreed #poet #poetry #illustrans #spilled thoughts #poets #quotes #twcpoetry #spilled words #writingthestorm #poeticstories #spilled ink #spilled prose #prose writing #spilled writing

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instruth · 3 days

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The Wind Of The Sea

On the wind of the sea

sailing with the dream

whatever that may be,

whoever shines a gleam,

shall ride in glamour free

Come, take the ride with me

catch a breeze, fly fly along

low tide, rolling from the sea

to a crescendo, one furlong

listen, be still, it’s here already

The charms of its melody

speak silently, captivatingly

whispers of its fair lady

sway in stillness, enchantingly

with the wind of the sea

17 April 2024

A Gogyoshiren Poem (15)

Photos: eze77nqnsur

#poetryportal #writerscreeds #smittenbypoetry #spilledwords #writingthestorm #poeticstories #inkstainsandheartbeats #writtenconsiderstions

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heartofmuse · 1 year

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Love me even if life tries to steal me away from you. Love me in this silence and in the distance that are none of our doing but which we suffer all the same. Love me for my heart only beats your name. Love me without ever harboring doubt in your heart. I am yours from the marrow up and my one true desire is to be in your arms. Love me while you wait. Love me without words and with every breath. Love me till we can be together again.

e.v.e. (Letters to my love)

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prasannawrites · 4 months

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for @nosebleedclub jan 3rd 2024 prompt.

#poetry #poeticstories #writerscreed #writingthestorm #writtenconsiderations #spilled ink #poetryportal #poetryclub13 #deadwatered #poems

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hathaway-hayes · 11 days

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104

Somewhere -

There’s an old man not so silently Grinding his teeth Whilst rocking on his porch

Seeking a seventh-day constellation In a six day week.

And at some point -

He mumbles, he swears it’s there like: The rainy-day money stored In a book long forgotten.

Maybe it’s in Xian.

Maybe it’s in Denver.

Maybe it’s in Mom’s cooking.

It’s definitely in antiquity, A grief on every other Wednesday, now, And wish for the gray to go away.

- Hathaway Hayes (2024)

#writerscreed #twcpoetry #poeticstories #poetryportal #burningmuses #writtenconsiderations #spilled ink #writingthestorm #poem #poetry #poet #poets on tumblr #writer #author #writers on tumblr #aging #fear #dementia #Gerascophobia

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persephoneshellhounds · 2 months

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my heart flutters like moth wings, once caught flightless on ice cold fire it’s forever looking for the kiss of the flames, the softest, kindest, slowest way of dying so that i may rest in a chest that’s not my own — yours, would you leave flowers on my tomb, once more? virginal white jasmines, if you remember — the color and predisposition of a ghost. would you kiss my resting ground, softening under torrential poems? would you say a made-up prayer? (my lover, who art in heaven) would you love me again if death is my rebirth, my second coming, how angels weep right next to me, how they break over my sorrows — pathetic bodies made of light, but they never burn, they never crash like fading embers. my heart’s still caught on ice cold fire, it flutters, wingless i arch in my quiet aching, godless, limbless — i’m sorry i’m made this way. in heaven, god fucked up for the first time twenty five years ago, he can take me back tomorrow for all i care but would you pick me, take me back and kiss me, bathe me in biblical oil (even if it kills me once more?) if i promise not to die once more?

— fray narte, "going insane in october" | written november 1, 2023, 5:11 PM

photo screencapped from: saltburn (2023) // dir. emerald fennell

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