#prose poem
She cried for a bit longer and took a deep breath. Then she looked up at the sun with a watery smile. She told the sun another morning would come and she’d try again tomorrow. The sun heard her hopeful tone and smiled back at the girl who smiled through her tears.
- she did not give up||euterp-e on tumblr
She cried and cried and cried. She screamed for help. The water was too deep and the current too swift. And the branch she was holding snapped. She screamed for help once more and then she was gone. Head under water, not coming up again. The river won the fight.
- I’m drowning ||euterp-e on tumblr
She felt like she couldn’t breathe. As if the world was collapsing around her. In her. Through her. No one left to see her. Hear her. Feel her pain. As she struggled for breath, she drowned and fell and broke. But no one there to give her air. No one there to even care.
- all alone || euterp-e on tumblr
the best revenge isn’t moving on and pretending not to care. if you really want to disconcert people, stick your fingernails in and bring out your insides. leave them there on the table. no one wants to see you cry. that’s why you should do it.
Coeur Silence Radio
et de son absence
qui se remplissait si bien
la pièce de vide, mon coeur de rien,
que lorsque de nouvelles choses apparurent
je n'eu plus de place pour les disposer.
ce vide occupait une place, il est vrai
pour qu'un jour peut être, réapparaisse
tout ce qui m'avait manqué jusqu'ici.
jour après jour, qui se ternit…
lors de mes songes , il m'arrive de penser
Oh mais est-t-il vrai
que lors de ces baisers
j'eus l'envie irréfutable
d'être là de façon immanquable ?
de le chérir et l'aimer
autant de toute mon âme
et d'enlever les souvenirs infâmes
de le soutenir éperdument
pour qu'enfin aucun tourment
ne hante notre amour si intense
qui il est vrai autrefois
était de sa beauté rare
un rêve éveillé pour moi
- menthaleau
Sometimes heartbreak isn’t experienced just from losing a lover; sometimes it’s at 3 in the morning and you miss your best friend that you don’t talk to anymore, sometimes it’s when you see a picture of a place you used to live in but you’re very far from it now, sometimes it’s from the stories and poems you read and hear about or when you miss the taste of a home-cooked meal. The human heart is so strong yet so fragile because although it is made of muscle we see and hear and listen and feel and love a bit too much about everything.
People talk about trying new things out all the time and there’s nothing wrong with that; but what about going back to our old stuff? The comfort shows we watch when we’re tired and drained, that specific song we listen to when we’re sad; a book that’s been reread so many times it cover is battered and the spine broken. Sometimes when we go back to the old things we notice what we didn’t before; a background vocal in a song; a quote that hits differently now. Sometimes going back to what we love isn’t so bad.
It’s harder to take the easier path. When you’re living in a society that encourages grind culture. it’s harder for people to choose the easier path because we’re afraid of how society will view us as ‘weak’. But just because you took the easy way out doesn’t mean that you’re giving up; sometimes taking the easy way out means being kind to yourself and putting yourself first, it means patience to gain the strength to do what you want.
Hey guys I’m going to be moving my content primarily to YouTube since the changes for creators on Tumblr. I don’t really care for what is happening to the platform too much. I do hope you consider following me on this journey still. Thank you all so much.
Every artist has been told not to be an artist by the person who damaged them enough to become an artist.
wonder we go when we die
“i’m sorry if you touch my heart and find the scar tissue;
there used to be a thorn there
i’m sorry if the prick is like a diabetics reading; there used to be a thorn there.”
- words for us
“acceptance is more than just applauding the parts of yourself that you find beautiful and endearing, it’s about acknowledging the ugly parts that exist to you too. it’s about finding peace in who you are regardless of your flaws and the mistakes you’ve made.”
— iambrillyant
“accepting myself fully. even the undesirable parts and corners of myself i don’t like to visit. accepting the parts of myself still learning, the ones that play small out of trauma or conditioning. accepting myself, good and bad, high and low, unconditionally.”
— iambrillyant
“a lack of boundaries invites in a lack of respect. a lack of boundaries welcomes in a lack of honesty with yourself. a lack of boundaries accepts where they decide to view you instead where of you actually view yourself.”
— iambrillyant
“how many times have you failed to attract what you deserve because you were too busy trying to satisfy their wants, when you haven’t even met your own needs yet?”
— iambrillyant
“i used to admire the ones who carried mountains of pain because it showed just how strong they are, now the ones i admire are the ones who are able to let go of that pain because this is where true power exists.”
— iambrillyant
“trust the timing that people enter your life, but also trust the timing in which people leave.”
— iambrillyant
No one taught you how to be wrong.
So you always expected to be right.
Can I really blame you for something
you were never capable of?
- [i.r.] // [04.27.22.]
From a young age our minds are filled with
false expectations that our lives must be
riveting, we must be grand to matter.
We learn how quickly people fade
from every memory, thus starting a
desperate attempt to be eternal.
It is near effortlessly to inadvertently
forget to love the softer aspects of life
in light of trying to create something endless.
Sometimes we all forget to live,
we let experiences pass by attempting
to manifest future happiness.
There is endless love in this world,
sometimes hiding in ways we may
never know, so easily missed out on.
We put so much pressure on ourselves
not to be forgotten and accidentally
forget what it is all for.
-[i.r.]
[04.22.22.]
Meditations in an Emergency
Cameron Awkward-Rich
I wake up & it breaks my heart. I draw the blinds & the thrill of rain breaks my heart. I go outside. I ride the train, walk among the buildings, men in Monday suits. The flight of doves, the city of tents beneath the underpass, the huddled mass, old women hawking roses, & children all of them, break my heart. There’s a dream I have in which I love the world. I run from end to end like fingers through her hair. There are no borders, only wind. Like you, I was born. Like you, I was raised in the institution of dreaming. Hand on my heart. Hand on my stupid heart.
==
Today in:
2021: How the Trees on Summer Nights Turn into a Dark River, Barbara Crooker
2020:Ash, Tracy K. Smith
2019:Under Stars, Dorianne Laux
2018:Afterlife,Natalie Eilbert
2017:There Are Birds Here, Jamaal May
2016:Poetry, Richard Kenney
2015:Dreaming at the Ballet, Jack Gilbert
2014:Vocation, Sandra Beasley
2013:Near the Race Track, Brigit Pegeen Kelly
2012:from Ask Him, Raymond Carver
2011:Sweet Star Chisel, Dearest Flaming Crumbs in Your Beard Lord, John Rybicki
2010:Rain Travel, W.S. Merwin
2009:Goodnight, Li-Young Lee
2008:Bearhug, Michael Ondaatje
2007:Meditation at Lagunitas, Robert Hass
2006:Autumn, Rainer Maria Rilke
2005:On Turning Ten, Billy Collins
Short Talk on Waterproofing
Anne Carson
Franz Kafka was Jewish. He had a sister, Ottla, Jewish. Ottla married a jurist, Josef David, not Jewish. When the Nuremberg Laws were introduced to Bohemia-Moravia in 1942, quiet Ottla suggested to Josef David that they divorce. He at first refused. She spoke about night shapes and property and their two daughters and a rational approach. She did not mention, because she did not yet know the word, Auschwitz, where she would die in October 1943. After putting the apartment in order she packed a rucksack and was given a good shoeshine by Josef David. He applied a coat of grease. Now they are waterproof, he said.
==
Today in—
2021: Cindy Comes To Hear Me Read, Jill McDonough
2020:from This Magic Moment, David Kirby
2019:Poem In Which I Become Wolverine, José Olivarez
2018:In the Beginning God Said Light, Mary Szybist
2017:from Contradictions: Tracking Poems, Adrienne Rich
2016:I Said Yes but I Meant No, Dean Young
2015:Cardinal Cardinal, Stephen Dunn
2014:Ezra Pound’s Proposition, Robert Hass
2013:Wistful sounds like a brand of air freshener, Bob Hicok
2012:Not Getting Closer, Jack Gilbert
2011:Written in Pencil in the Sealed Railway-Car, Dan Pagis
2010:The Moss of His Skin, Anne Sexton
2009:It’s This Way, Nazim Hikmet
2008:The Problem With Skin, Aimee Nezhukumatathil
2007:Serenade, Terrance Hayes
2006:The Old Liberators, Robert Hedin
2005:Morning Song, Sylvia Plath
