He had green eyes,
so I wanted to sleep with him—
green eyes flecked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—
You could drown in those eyes, I said.

The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire
not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
the way we look like animals,
his skin barely keeping him inside.

I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
like a crash test car.

I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
You could drown in those eyes, I said,

so it’s summer, so it’s suicide,
so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

  - From “Little Beast” by Richard Siken

@3 weeks ago with 2 notes
#love #lust #poetry #poem 
“I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember.” from Warsan Shire’sExcuses for Why We Failed at Love

“I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember.”

from Warsan Shire’sExcuses for Why We Failed at Love

@6 months ago with 3 notes
#love #poetry #warsan shire 

black stone beads
cool against my breasts
remind me

@11 months ago
#haiku #poetry #mala #trust 

a new version of the story exists
in a space i carry deep inside

a purity of love so natural
yet so intense it’s feral
wild

but easy
an open space full of light

and carefully interwoven melodies
make up the rug that keep our feet warm

@1 year ago with 3 notes
#love #poem #poetry #dear JP #writings 

"To make sure
You have not said:
“I love you,”
They smell your breath.

They even smell your heart
Trying times are these, my darling.

They flog love
Tied to the post of the cul-de-sac
We must hide love in the closet.

In this serpentine maze
This crooked cold corner
They feed the fire
With poems and songs

Thinking, too, is risky.
Those who, late at night, knock on the door,
Are there to kill the lamp.
We must hide the light in the closet.

Then there are the butchers
Stationed at all cross-roads,
Armed with a block and a bloody cleaver.
Trying times these are, my darling.

Surgically,
They plant smiles on lips,
And songs in the mouths.
We must hide joy in the closet.

On lilies and lilacs,
They roast the canaries.
Trying times these are, my darling.

Drunk with victory, the Devil,
Celebrates our wake.
We must hide God in the closet."

In This Cul-de-Sac by Ahmad Shamlu
@2 years ago
#poetry #the persian 

"I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking. There is nothing in between,"

Shinji Moon
@1 month ago with 20 notes
#poetry #love #shinji moon #commovente 

"We weren’t exactly children again,
too many divorces, too many blood panels,
but your leaning into me was a sleeping bird.
Sure, there was no way to be careful enough,
even lightning can go wrong but when the smoke
blows off, we can admire the work the fire’s done
ironing out the wrinkles in favor of newer ones,
ashy furrows like the folds in the brain
that signal the switchbacks and reversals
of our thought and just as brief. Your lips
were song, your hair everywhere.
Oh unknowable, fidgeting self, how little
bother you were then, no more
than a tangerine rind. Oh unknowable
other, how I loved your smell."

Late Valentine, Dean Young
@10 months ago with 1 note
#late valentine #fall higher #poetry #prose #lit 

"I remember lonely and
what it tasted like before
your name took root in my throat,
before everything reminded me of your mouth.
I don’t know how I lived that way…"

Warsan Shire  

(Source: noldarling, via thelandlockedmariner)

@1 year ago with 1019 notes
#love #poetry #dear JP 

He had green eyes,
so I wanted to sleep with him—
green eyes flecked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—
You could drown in those eyes, I said.

The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire
not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
the way we look like animals,
his skin barely keeping him inside.

I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
like a crash test car.

I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
You could drown in those eyes, I said,

so it’s summer, so it’s suicide,
so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

  - From “Little Beast” by Richard Siken

@1 year ago with 1 note
#poetry #lust #dear JP 

I don’t want to chase you.

I want to be there for you, always and forever.  I get that you might not be ready, but when you are just know that I’ll be I am here.

@3 years ago
#love #poetry 

He had green eyes,
so I wanted to sleep with him—
green eyes flecked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—
You could drown in those eyes, I said.

The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire
not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
the way we look like animals,
his skin barely keeping him inside.

I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
like a crash test car.

I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
You could drown in those eyes, I said,

so it’s summer, so it’s suicide,
so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

  - From “Little Beast” by Richard Siken

3 weeks ago
#love #lust #poetry #poem 
"I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking. There is nothing in between,"
Shinji Moon
1 month ago
#poetry #love #shinji moon #commovente 
“I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember.” from Warsan Shire’sExcuses for Why We Failed at Love
6 months ago
#love #poetry #warsan shire 
"We weren’t exactly children again,
too many divorces, too many blood panels,
but your leaning into me was a sleeping bird.
Sure, there was no way to be careful enough,
even lightning can go wrong but when the smoke
blows off, we can admire the work the fire’s done
ironing out the wrinkles in favor of newer ones,
ashy furrows like the folds in the brain
that signal the switchbacks and reversals
of our thought and just as brief. Your lips
were song, your hair everywhere.
Oh unknowable, fidgeting self, how little
bother you were then, no more
than a tangerine rind. Oh unknowable
other, how I loved your smell."
Late Valentine, Dean Young
10 months ago
#late valentine #fall higher #poetry #prose #lit 

black stone beads
cool against my breasts
remind me

11 months ago
#haiku #poetry #mala #trust 
"I remember lonely and
what it tasted like before
your name took root in my throat,
before everything reminded me of your mouth.
I don’t know how I lived that way…"
Warsan Shire  

(Source: noldarling, via thelandlockedmariner)

1 year ago
#love #poetry #dear JP 

a new version of the story exists
in a space i carry deep inside

a purity of love so natural
yet so intense it’s feral
wild

but easy
an open space full of light

and carefully interwoven melodies
make up the rug that keep our feet warm

1 year ago
#love #poem #poetry #dear JP #writings 

He had green eyes,
so I wanted to sleep with him—
green eyes flecked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—
You could drown in those eyes, I said.

The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire
not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
the way we look like animals,
his skin barely keeping him inside.

I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
like a crash test car.

I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
You could drown in those eyes, I said,

so it’s summer, so it’s suicide,
so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

  - From “Little Beast” by Richard Siken

1 year ago
#poetry #lust #dear JP 
"To make sure
You have not said:
“I love you,”
They smell your breath.

They even smell your heart
Trying times are these, my darling.

They flog love
Tied to the post of the cul-de-sac
We must hide love in the closet.

In this serpentine maze
This crooked cold corner
They feed the fire
With poems and songs

Thinking, too, is risky.
Those who, late at night, knock on the door,
Are there to kill the lamp.
We must hide the light in the closet.

Then there are the butchers
Stationed at all cross-roads,
Armed with a block and a bloody cleaver.
Trying times these are, my darling.

Surgically,
They plant smiles on lips,
And songs in the mouths.
We must hide joy in the closet.

On lilies and lilacs,
They roast the canaries.
Trying times these are, my darling.

Drunk with victory, the Devil,
Celebrates our wake.
We must hide God in the closet."
In This Cul-de-Sac by Ahmad Shamlu
2 years ago
#poetry #the persian 
I don’t want to chase you.

I want to be there for you, always and forever.  I get that you might not be ready, but when you are just know that I’ll be I am here.

3 years ago
#love #poetry