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cornelisrage:

thirsty
like a bloodstain
on a white wedding dress

thirsty
like the moon that got to live
another day
in sin
while the night wasn’t far away

thirsty
like the lovely ripened voluptuous fruit
hanging so low
it was way beyond shameful

thirsty
i know you are thirsty
like a mirror soul reflecting herself
upon me

— 30 seconds ago with 20 notes
#sluttyvampires  #poem  #poets on tumblr  #cornelisrage 
Chaotically beautiful phenomenon

valleyoftheallie:

I was born by accident
My brain was bathed in
quiet chaos
Violence can be silent
Invisible
Breeding tears and fears
Art is everything
We’re afraid to say out loud
Colors emerge from my blood
All these words
Clots in my fragile veins
I’m always on the verge of
Bursting
Overheated cells
No wonder I’ve only ever kissed in cold precipitation
Bare feet
Dirty hair
I’m flammable
Breathe toxic fumes
An infant dropped out of the sky
Becomes a woman scared to fly

— 1 minute ago with 7 notes
#poetryriot  #spilled ink  #spilled brains  #alt lit  #poets on tumblr  #valleyoftheallie 
Seen.

venuscrow:

To be truly loved
Is to be seen,
To be persued
And perused
In each fold
Of the skin
Drunk in.
To truly love
Is to see under
The ruse
And meet what
Is beneath
With the ferocious
Courage of soul.
There are no
Half measures,
Love is not a fairytale,
Love is guts and blood
Spit and passion
Drink it in
Lap me up.

Venus Crow.

— 3 minutes ago with 23 notes
#Witch poetry  #Venus Crow  #poets on tumblr  #venuscrow 
the-art-of-misdirection:

Stravinsky’s Final Rite
Garrulous, the sliced warmth of cellosbellows—like a water fountain, coined misericorde-turned-guillotine in swift decapitation as the gallant removeshis helm, recapitulating in coda, flooding
broken light betweenRubicon & Paradise: fire with ice, earth & airgreeting among another’s eyes, like two stars gazingacross the rift of dead space,
enunciated galaxy—as if princes & damsels spythroughout the empty kingdoms they govern through bloodline,catching each other in eternal glance. God had no ideawhen he gave us mirrors. Cosmic lilies
titled Cercles mystérieux des adolescentes vibratedown the vineyard of aqua vitae, dragginglethargic springtime among pre-creation, procreatingempty livingness. Ah, but a few
more measures to dance into the Sacrificial—the last Rite—volcanic as pizzicato froth,bath of wines, the punctuation of war,Melankoli & Ausencion rhyme the same idea:
betwixt the strangle of an octopus sleeper submissionbeneath the schism of night & morningbefore the Fall of Man, even deeper thanbergotten regret as peacocks dance the Gorgon’s undead curse.
-RYArtwork:

ResilienceSegolene Haehnsen Kan, FrenchAcrylic on canvas

the-art-of-misdirection:

Stravinsky’s Final Rite

Garrulous, the sliced warmth of cellos
bellows—like a water fountain, coined misericorde-
turned-guillotine in swift decapitation as the gallant removes
his helm, recapitulating in coda, flooding

broken light between
Rubicon & Paradise: fire with ice, earth & air
greeting among another’s eyes, like two stars gazing
across the rift of dead space,

enunciated galaxy—as if princes & damsels spy
throughout the empty kingdoms they govern through bloodline,
catching each other in eternal glance. God had no idea
when he gave us mirrors. Cosmic lilies

titled Cercles mystérieux des adolescentes vibrate
down the vineyard of aqua vitae, dragging
lethargic springtime among pre-creation, procreating
empty livingness. Ah, but a few

more measures to dance into the Sacrificial—
the last Rite—volcanic as pizzicato froth,
bath of wines, the punctuation of war,
Melankoli & Ausencion rhyme the same idea:

betwixt the strangle of an octopus sleeper submission
beneath the schism of night & morning
before the Fall of Man, even deeper than
bergotten regret as peacocks dance the Gorgon’s undead curse.

-RY



Artwork:

Resilience
Segolene Haehnsen Kan, French
Acrylic on canvas

— 6 minutes ago with 7 notes
#the-art-of-misdirection 

viperslang:

baptism is this
destine me by a sacred rosette
& the good shepard’s mafia
hands me my rebirth by drowning
my lunar bones damn close to an exodus
odd that we suspect the water’s elongated
rune scribbled over this mortal amplitude
when 3/4 of all we are is -
a brittle thimble
for a sea as anonymous
as the ghost of a God
who makes ever river
into a mirror
once again, the water
its nocturnal alibi, its forecast of tabula rasa 
bends us at the halo of thirst
till we are arid enough to drink
the shadow of our own sorrow

Scherezade Siobhan©

— 6 minutes ago with 6 notes
#Poetry  #my stuff  #writing  #poems  #lit  #viperslang 
"

Wrap your waterfall legs
……..tightly
around my waist
take my bottom lip
…….. between
your front teeth
like the parting
of the clouds

Your hot springs hands
…….. cradle
the base of my spine
as your honey bee hips
…….. sing
canticles to
my blooming eruption

…….. It is unforgivable
…….. this ineffable semaphore
…….. the name of the holy
…….. must forever remain
…….. unspoken

Lift your sun-shower breasts
…….. furiously
to my voracious tongue
throw back your gossamer hair
…….. laugh
from your marrow
at the bottomless
joke

…….. About these secrets
…….. no word
…….. need ever pass
…….. our lips
…….. you and I
…….. understand each other
…….. perfectly

"

Max Mundan, We Speak (the wordless language)

© David Rutter 2014

Follow me on twitter @dmr226

(via maxmundan)

(via maxmundan)

— 8 minutes ago with 72 notes
thejournalofbisonjack:

Sometimes you just have to keep writing something until you get it right/die
All of It
.
for all of it, the slight of hands and sideways glances; the shallow breathing, and the violence; the unsaid and the consequences; the easy lies and the broken promises, the humbling of love and the beauty of kindness; the loneliness of runningand the compassion of silence; the sabotage and medicine, and the mindfulness in the pursuit of last chances,for all of it,I wouldn’t change a thing, except, maybe, the timing.

thejournalofbisonjack:

Sometimes you just have to keep writing something until you get it right/die

All of It

.

for all of it,
the slight of hands
and sideways glances;
the shallow breathing,
and the violence;
the unsaid and the
consequences;
the easy lies and
the broken promises,
the humbling of love
and the beauty of kindness;
the loneliness of running
and the compassion
of silence; the sabotage
and medicine, and the
mindfulness in the
pursuit of last chances,
for all of it,
I wouldn’t change
a thing, except, maybe,
the timing.

— 9 minutes ago with 10 notes
#Poetry  #alt lit  #spilled ink  #twc  #a life in the day of  #thejournalofbisonjack 
scribe.

pensivepen:

This pin is my pen
scraping blood-red words of truth
into my skin to scar
a tapestry of flesh.

This quill, my guilt will quell
as I write my dusty thoughts
onto crinkled parched parchment
to burn and turn to ash.

l.t. 2014

(via poetryriot)

— 10 minutes ago with 16 notes
#poetryriot 
Encroaching Totalities

charliewykes:

Modern options summarized
For ideal livelihoods under
Humidity’s comradery estranged
Motion sickness in cages

Stretched out unity’s modicum
Contagious while crane necked
Seeking a dozen deviled eggs
Cast away from the shore

Sewing rogue confinement
Writing off model arrangements
Compartmentalized gnawing
Rodents mildly tearing it apart

image

— 12 minutes ago with 5 notes
#writing  #creative  #creative thoughts  #creative writing  #thoughts  #lit  #alt lit  #prose  #prose poem  #prose poetry  #poem  #scribbling  #spilled ink  #spilled thoughts  #rejectscorner  #poets on tumblr  #charliewykes