stevencudahy, to poetry the blade isn't an answer today
wasn't an answer then, for me
heated to sterile because the drama of fire
licking the steel was cinematic
though predictably gauche
and i choked
lacking blood enough
to restore the scorched sands to life
lacking the conviction
i could ever be clean enough
to not infect the knife#Poetry #Writing #vssPoem Thanks @worded_art for the prompt - sterile.
Ellen Bass, "If You Knew" (lemmy.world)
davemark, to poetry One of my favorite all time poems, apropos of nothing:
"Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality."-- Emily Dickinson
Roger Reeves, "The Mare of Money" (lemmy.world)
Anne Sexton, "Cripples and Other Stories" (lemmy.world)
Roger Reeves, "Brazil" (lemmy.world)
Raquel Franco, "Girl Therapy". (lemmy.world)
Sarah Moore Wagner, "Getting My Body Back". (lemmy.world)
Joanna Furhman, "Why Can't Middle Age Be Like Childhood, But With Sex, Liquor, and Hipper Boots?" (lemmy.world)
Sarah Moore Wagner, "Witch's Mark" (lemmy.world)
Kim Addonizio, "First Kiss". (lemmy.world)
stevencudahy, to poetry this is the prize game
played for art as embodied
in the warpaint built from joy
and raw practiced skill
surgery of light and shade
colour as scalpel and graft#Sedoka #Poetry #Writing #vssPoem Thanks @worded_art for the prompt - contour.
Adam Zagajewski, "Impossible Friendships". (lemmy.world)
seanpatrick.phd, to poetry The best of life is left unlived:<br></br>the mass of moments absent mind,<br></br>explosions over in an instant<br></br>that leave a trace of warmth behind.<br></br>An afterimage of<em> la petite mort</em>,<br></br>the comfort of oblivious sleep;<br></br>the edges of experience blur<br></br>and hint at blisses we can’t keep.<br></br><br></br>The best parts lie just out of grasp,<br></br>we tell ourselves; we keep content<br></br>to live beyond the reach of joy<br></br>until our lives are fully spent.<br></br><br></br>These fleeting things that sight can’t bear,<br></br>these haunting ghosts of ecstasy,<br></br>leave deep lacunas lingering<br></br>in yet-unwritten history.<br></br>They leave the dreams of coming days<br></br>dyed in inverted afterglows:<br></br>the ache for something yet to be,<br></br>a secret glee that no-one knows.<br></br><br></br>So this, it seems, is pleasure’s form: <br></br>a blip upon the radar screen.<br></br>Chased with dauntless vigor, <br></br>but hardly ever seen.<br></br>
Joanna Furhman, "Ode to Unhappiness" (lemmy.world)
Aphelion, to poetry You can only
walk through a
minefield
so long before
you become the
inevitable
explosion.
Fleur Adcock, "Advice to a Discarded Lover". (lemmy.world)
Treatment 20 Years Too Late. [OC]
No longer told I’m young...
Sharon Olds, "Unspeakable". (lemmy.world)
Emily Dickinson - "I'm Nobody, Who Are You?" (lemmy.world)
stevencudahy, to poetry keep it low level
and subdued
enough below notice
people don't
but are changed nonetheless
creep in like mice
and chew wiring
no one knows they need
until it fails
do not ask permission
commit violence
quiet and soft
as snow falling
outside the window
changing everything
secretly#Poetry #Writing #vssPoem Thanks @worded_art for the prompt - subliminal.
Raquel Franco, "Slow Girl Summer". (lemmy.world)
Aphelion, to poetry Your absence
So complete
It voids the songs
In my throat
Until I choke,
And frightens
My blood into
Retreat.
stevencudahy, to poetry like the bunched duvet
you left behind to haunt me
memory of wood
sucked dry by the thirsty flames
left ghost, a haunting
shaped from the fire's soft grey tears
collapses empty
beneath the settling structure
we carefully built
later i'll make the spare bed
leave ours your lost body's cave#Choka #SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 8 May 2024 - ash.