Was having a lot of thoughts and decided to try my hand at this. Was kind of proud of how the second one turned out.

They say love is blind

but before you I could not see.

Romantic movies and poetry

finally fill my heart with glee.

With sorrow and sadness as well,

for I'm alone in this race.

You didn't follow when I fell,

but I try to rise with grace.

A friend is all you want for now,

so a friend I try to be;

but if you ever want everything,

look no further than me.

I live in a dangerous house.

The foundation is cracked, and I'm pretty sure we have termites.

But my other half is worried about robbers, so I guess we're reinforcing the locks.

I live in a dangerous house.

The floor is sagging in the kitchen, and I'm pretty sure we have black mold.

But my other half doesn't trust the banks, so I guess we're installing a vault.

I live in a dangerous house.

The roof is missing shingles, and I'm pretty sure we have lead paint.

But my other half thinks the government might collapse, so I guess we're digging a bunker.

I live in a dangerous house.

But thank God, my other half

Is keeping us safe

Clouds in the sky of paradise
Paradise —
I hear smiles from where I gaze.

A dream in vain
To wander through these mountains of mist

It must be the highest thrill. 
There is an infinity of sadness before you and behind you.
The cruelty and wickedness of people can be endless. 
Unfathomable depths, pressure beyond pressure.

But in the face of that you dare to unmask yourself.
the fear, the anxiety, the crushing weight. The audacity!
All lifted for a moment.
Audacious.
You. Finally.
Audacious.
There will be consequences.
But it was worth it.
…but there will be consequences.






And for the consequences, there with be consequences.
You are better now than you ever were.

^Ablaze^

Sometimes when my pen hits the paper I start to bleed.

I scribbled this on a page of notebook paper and decided to post it—just raw and real.

I wrote this while I felt like everything around me was on fire.

Ablaze

Subject Index: spoken word poetry, raw emotion writing, trauma poetry, unfiltered prose, poetic rage, healing through writing, mental health expression, survivor poetry, emotional catharsis, dark poetry, stream of consciousness, grief and growth, poetic vulnerability, feminist poetry, writing through pain, confessional writing

Someone else linked this absolutely haunting reading of Kipling's 1915 war poem some month or so back elsewhere on Lemmy and it's stayed with me since then. The poem is great in its own right but this reading is something else.

Spring tides
On winter’s beaches
Green shoals
Flow-ering currents
For beachcombers

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Above the fence
a morning glory stretches
still unsatisfied.

"It seems that the morning glory, like man, is never satisfied with its lot, and when it reaches the top of the fence along which it climbs, it keeps shooting upward where there is nothing to support it."

Taken from Japanese Death Poems by Yoel Hoffman

Pink on Green
Flecked petal dot,
Sidewalk strip
Spring colors waking
Springtime dreams.

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I vanish—
in the window,
snows of Eagle Peak remain.

Context: A death poem/the man's final poem before death. Shiko lived in the eastern section of Kyoto, in the foothills of the mountain called Washi-ga-mine (lit., Eagle Peak). He died during the height of the snowy season.

Taken from Japanese Death Poems by Yoel Hoffman.

You screamed at me

under a bright blue sky

I wished you could look up

and see like I do

Evanesce into my dreams
Where I see that which has withered —
morphed and recoloured
Abnormal: undefined
Anchored to another to which I must refine