natural disaster,

if the warmth from my chest
could melt a million icebergs
it would crash a thousand Titanics
which should go down in hundreds of years of history
then the tens of people who read my story
will know that i only loved one person

ghost on her lips

it was almost as if
you were real again
like you were going to
walk right through me
because you could

i was surprised
when you stopped
and found appeal
in the new doorknob
on a door that before
had no way of locking

immediately you wanted
to leave me once more
and all i could do was
fall down to my knees
and weep for your memory

sinandserotonin:

she took
breathing
for granted

until the water
rose from her feet
and past her head.

how precious
did air seem then—

when the ocean
kissed her pale lips.

it’s not like drowning.

more like a love affair.

(via sinandserotonin)

humansofnewyork:

“What’s your greatest struggle right now?”
“Fear of my writing. Sharing my writing, in particular.”
“Will you email me something you wrote tonight?”

---

“Less Fear” By Sade Johnson 

America take rest
I was born No poet
Born laces to television archaic computer lemming games
Walmart target home depot banks 

Big man take rest
I was born No lover
Born sage-less wise cracker
Abandoned lot mower for petrified native broken horn blowers

Savage take rest
I was born No tin man tight vested slave author
Born on No Puritanical pilgrimage not Lord wrought No Kings vestige 

Youth take rest
I was born a silver-tongued tight fisted counter daughter
Fire starting ageist hippy
Empty gun waving barbiturate sipping
Anti- nun

I take rest
I was born No fool

marathon

i haven’t written 
much these days
i’m too caught up
in my head
chasing the thought
of you

eventually
i’ll tire out
but for now
the pool of possibility
quenches my thirst
which unlike you
is oh so real

insect-ligaments:

Jasmine Mans- Dear Ex Lover

for Me and Mona Lisa: lovers like me »

formeandmonalisa:

I am a cave, you know. hollow mostly. though somewhere beneath the rubble there’s sandstone and red clay. but the deeper you go the darker I get. that you can depend on. and the more you dig the more I forget so beware the avalanches because you never know when I’ll collapse. I’ve crushed stronger…

I know photographers who hate having their picture taken. »

sinandserotonin:

I would not dare
to presume that
I could ever be
made into poetry—

to be fit into lines
made by unsteady hands
and uncertain syllables
cutting off as if a breath
in absolute anticipation.

the muses inspire and
beauty will always be framed
in wood or empty spaces
waiting to be filled with words

and I will always write
because I prefer to be holding
the camera I seem to have
behind my eyes, finding meaning
in the meaningless and mundane—

do not take a picture of me
with your syntax, your vocabulary
because people like me
were never meant to be written about.

(via sinandserotonin)

.love’s slave.

inkdwordwinkd:

Syllables and sounds of regret dance

Like flames on hot coals

Tongues disfigured in an ambiguous distortion of the truth

Your truth

But I know better

These sounds form words and lay upon my shoulder

Tips, kissed and brushed away with passion’s empty promises

I’ll never be the only one

Your only

But for now you’re here with me

So I imagine a time and place where

Rushed want is from desire rather than

A conflict of time with her

Despite the way your hand moves across my face

And tells me this is just what it is

The truth hides behind your eyes

Which unlike your mouth are unable to form such deceptive lies

I smile back in knowing that

The taste of me lingers on you

When she pulls you close at night

I stroke your hair and feel the ease

In your body from my touch

And know that my goodbye will be

The very impact of love in all its complexities

So no note, no words this time

Just silence

For words become love’s slave

And this prisoner is ready to break free

.morning.

inkdwordwinkd:

Yawns surface & light pours into my windows
Morning has found me again casting shadows on
Eyes that never closed and on arms that clutch pillows
Where you used to lay
How can the day be so beautiful when everything inside of me feels so ugly?
I turn to face the wall, yet the sun, relentless in its pursuit of happiness drenches me in the warmth of nature’s peaceful advice
To “just be”
Even though my spirit is broken and my tongue is stilled by words exchanged in anger
I feel the energy of healing spread across my fingertips loosening the grip on sheets I’d held in defiance
Birds chirp melodies only they know the words to and the day begins anew
All that’s missing is you

“Quiet Girl,” Langston Hughes

allyourprettywords:

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

(via navigatethestream)

blackpoemusic:

Literary Birthday - 4 April

Happy Birthday, Maya Angelou, born 4 April 1928

12 Remarkable Maya Angelou Quotes

1. The honorary duty of a human being is to love.
2. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
3. Surviving is important. Thriving is elegant.
4. Talent is like electricity. We don’t understand electricity. We use it. You can plug into it and light up a lamp, keep a heart pump going, light a cathedral, or you can electrocute a person with it.
5. When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.
6. There’s a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure truth.
7. My mother said I must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy. That some people, unable to go to school, were more educated and more intelligent than college professors.
8. Any book that helps a child to form a habit of reading, to make reading one of his deep and continuing needs, is good for him.
9. Life loves the liver of it.
10. The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.
11. When you learn, teach, when you get, give.
12. Some critics will write ‘Maya Angelou is a natural writer’ - which is right after being a natural heart surgeon.

Angelou is an American author and poet. She has published six autobiographies, five books of essays, and several books of poetry. Her career has spanned more than 50 years. She has received many awards and more than 30 honorary doctoral degrees. Angelou is best known for her series of autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, brought her international recognition and acclaim.

Source for Image

by Amanda Patterson for Writers Write

(Source: amandaonwriting)

The Distance Never Mattered

sevenreasons:

You loved me once;
Do you remember that?
Cyber kisses, wishes
And online naps

The distant times
We lived in different days
Watching the same sun
When it came my way

The late night chats
And how we longed;
The naive beliefs 
If you were here -
               If I was there;
We could do no wrong

The wanting stares
At our laptop screen
Dying to be held-
Wanting to scream

You loved me once,
I remember that
And it’s time you knew
I loved you back.

(via sweetttnothingss)

who gets it right
the first time
they try to say
we don’t know
what we’re doing
but then again,
they all believe
the world is round

too many
of our black men
are often found
dangling from prison bars
ropes made of sheets
that match the paleness,
same color as the hoods
that they replace after
a hard days work
of protecting (their race)
and serving (their government)
when they take off their badges
all that remains
are broken men & women
children of many
who will repeatedly
fall victim to their system
of racial warfare & extinction

—

this poem is for my godfather, “Buddy”. may you rest in peace, a fighter you remained until the day you were taken away from this earth. by the boys who call themselves men, when they’re wearing blue.