halfhoursonearth: I wish I knew how to make you love me I wish I knew how to make a connection But maybe, It’s like that time I tried to find the meaning of life In my morning coffee I guess it just isn’t going to happen And would she really love me For my crooked teeth And blind honesty? Probably not But I’m not giving up I’ll stay up all night Just to make you smile And I’ll answer...
24 octobre revisited
-semantics: it feels like a cancer, missing you. it’s a seed in my breastbone, cracked ivory housing a pebble of milk and mildew. a silent blackened tendril slithers out from the shell and rushes into my bloodstream, binding my veins and calcifying soft tissue, and i can hear my muscles tense up and die, sighing softly against your chemical agent. my breathing gets shallow and sticky, the gum in...
Little Bird (Sestina)
warriorfeathers: We’re bodies jutting from a high-rise balcony. I’m burning like a good girl, a faultless blister the wispy sidewalks request to swallow. So you ask if I’m ready to get high, aim my eyes at the street for a necessary drink. All the peppery people don’t see me suspended. You wonder how a little girl gets suspended from herself. If she were good, she’d sleep on a balcony, roll in...
thislionheart: I see we wear similar necklaces of left over words that we can’t seem to string together to form a coherent sentence. And so we let them hang from our necks; mismatched, lying on our chests, ready for when we find a place to put them. Maybe, over time, we’ll find ourselves trading these words for beads. And then we’ll find ourselves matching.
Tangled Thoughts I Used To Dream About.
dmcdougall: It goes without saying, That it needs to be said. I have loopholes in my praying And tangled knots in my head. I’m always looking to progress. I’m constantly searching for change. I’ve tried it all, but to no success; Maybe staying the same wouldn’t be so strange. I used to believe in aspiration, Until I woke up screaming. Every night I survive calls for celebration, But I never...
thegreatbigquestionmark: I wrote you a letter and stitched my heart into the words and even though I didn’t know how, I trudged over to the post scribbled your name and zip code and what-not sealed away my heart shut and licked three stamps to the upper left. I wrote you a letter and stitched my heart into the words and I used blue paper but you’ll never know that I was blue myself as...
normalpoetry: To speak of my life miracle because it was the first sight I have ever seen, from first light on I’ve gathered all other lights as precious stones gathered within a pouch worn by my neck, From nothingness on to the first thought, to that first feeling, waking floating above the river to the flickers of ons and offs, patterns of shadow and sun embossed onto my skin by overhanging...
infinite1: Hypocrisy and Lies Tools used to create a High Society By keeping the society high High off drugs Used to numb the pain Pain of poverty, war, and police brutality Anger knowing your pain is not televised As you fall through the cracks unnoticed and unrecognized You wake up each day from dreams that parallel reality Or is it reality that parallels the dream? Seeing people on...
What I should
keylimepie25: what I should and how I ought has really come to naught do I behave as “they” would? do I react as I should? No. I stumble on as my emotions call out the time and beat of this dance, I fall out with those I’m closest to in search of one I barely know, I watch the phone in interrupted silence while inside rages violence I shouldn’t call I should wait and pray and pray...
spilling-your-ink: So the weekend is here and Thanksgiving break is coming up for some of us which means lots of free time to hang out on Tumblr/with your family. If you’re lacking on reading material I would suggest following Spilled Ink Prose and maybe checking out the archives. Spilled Ink, the main site, is for everything: poetry, prose, spoken word videos/audios, projects, etcetera....
pavorst: “She’s the one standing in the third row, right there. Brunette. Oh, there’s a little wave.” “You must be proud of her.” “I sure am. You know, she’s been singing ever since she figured out that the sounds in her mouth could string together. She’s always been happy that way, I suppose. I don’t think she knows how good she is, you know.” “I understand.” “Is yours up there?” “No, I...
Haven Of My Existence
manuscriptsandbourbon: Haven in the plates where the suns drip, kitchen echoes in the bedroom, scents of years gone by evoked from draperies, a mural of tears and laughter on the walls. Reminiscence is glory, and voices become a sanctuary for the soul. Of voyages and shipwrecks. The poet rises from his bed to smile at the darkness, and nothing is obsolete in his wide grin. Mirrors are doorways...
august-is-over: When you enter into a relationship everything is seemingly perfect, but what people don’t realise is that it’s in human nature to expose the flaws in everything. And sure enough slowly we start to pick out the flaws in our partners. Little by little we amass this list of all that’s wrong with them, until we reach breaking point. So then it all collapses in on itself, in a moment...
Overcoming Our Walls
howling-gypsy: The end of our love left me as abandoned as the buildings you graffitied on top of. I wanted more than just those dark nights where you etched my name on street corners and painted my curves onto walls in back alleys, those nights when your boots became winged as you flew away from the cops on the rush of adrenaline, nights when you held desire for me constrained in cans waiting...
salsabeela: Long Distance Why you look...
derriqueen: Untitled for Spoken Word Saturday