icemint

he tries to do what's "best" for me
i try to make him see things outside of
This Box.
we run at each other so fast
you and i miss each other entirely

"The Abandoned Valley"
Jack Gilbert

Can you understand being alone so long
you would go out in the middle of the night
and put a bucket into the well
so you could feel something down there
tug at the other end of the rope?

"Growing Up"
William Stafford

One of my wings beat faster,
I couldn't help it--
the one away from the light.

It hurt to be told all the time
how I loved that terrible flame.

 "This Be The Verse"
Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

 594: You Fit Into Me
"You Fit Into Me"
Margaret Atwood

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

"The Shout"
Simon Armitage

We went out
into the school yard together, me and the boy
whose name and face

I don't remember. We were testing the range
of the human voice:
he had to shout for all he was worth,

I had to raise an arm
from across the divide to signal back
that the sound had carried.

He called from over the park—I lifted an arm.
Out of bounds,
he yelled from the end of the road,

from the foot of the hill,
from beyond the look-out post of Fretwell's Farm—
I lifted an arm.

He left town, went on to be twenty years dead
with a gunshot hole
in the roof of his mouth, in Western Australia.

Boy with the name and face I don't remember,
you can stop shouting now, I can still hear you.


( Pictures of my LiveJournal Friends )

"Embrace"
Billy Collins

You know the parlor trick.
Wrap your arms around your own body
and from the back it looks like
someone is embracing you,
her hands grasping your shirt,
her fingernails teasing your neck.

From the front it is another story,
You never looked so alone,
your crossed elbows and screwy grin.
You could be waiting for a tailor
to fit you for a straightjacket,
one that would hold you really tight.


When I have too much time to myself, I think a lot. That's why sometimes I prefer to be so busy that I don't have this time to dwell. 

 I see a lot of downer posts on my flist lately. I'm pretty bleh myself. I like this poem...I hope you enjoy it, too. 

Beyond a Wholesome Discipline
by Luc Goosen

Beyond a wholesome discipline, 
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, 
no less than the trees and the stars; 
you have a right to be here. 
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, 
whatever you conceive Him to be, 
and whatever your labors and aspirations, 
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.

____

"Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself." 
These were the words my grade 8 math teacher told us during our first class.
It's been six years. I still remember. 
I will be okay.

Paint Brush
by Bettie B. Youngs

I keep my paint brush with me
Wherever I may go,
In case I need to cover up
So the real me doesn't show.

I'm so afraid to show you me,
Afraid of what you'll do - that
You might laugh or say mean things.
I'm afraid I might lose you.

I'd like to remove all my paint coats
To show you the real, true me,
But I want you to try and understand,
I need you to accept what you see.

So if you'll be patient and close your eyes,
I'll strip off all my coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.

Now my coats are all stripped off.
I feel naked, bare and cold,
And if you still love me with all that you see,
You are my friend, pure as gold.

I need to save my paint brush, though,
And hold it in my hand,
I want to keep it handy
In case someone doesn't understand.

So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true,
But please let me keep my paint brush with me
Until I love me, too.

this was posted today. Liked it too :)

“implosions”
Michael Datcher
( ... )

Hey, hope you're all doing well.
This poem was posted today and I really liked it:




“This Sky”
Hafiz

This
Sky
Where we live
Is no place to lose your wings
So love, love
Love.

it is 2am and i want to run
i want to run laps and laps
til the soles of my feet
burn
and my lungs ache
my breath is short
i'm wheezing
and panting
and it hurts but i won't stop
then i run and run
away
feet slapping the rubber track
i hear nothing but
my heart thumping against
my ribcage
i gasp
the air tastes good in
my windpipes
it is like
kissing death
circle after 400m circles
my head is light
my tongue is dry
every muscle screams
i'm about to break out of my body
blood hot
my run
i stop
i breathe
i pant
sweat runs between my eyes
i am
in pain
pushed to the limit
it feels--
indescribable.

 

I’m so frustrated. I can't even write a stupid poem.

The Nothing

Her typerwriter clicks, clicks, clicks.

She is stuck in limbo
Her fingers will not hold her pen
Time will not give her ideas
Books surrender no secrets

Her typewriter will not type; jam, jam, jam. 

The paper is blank
Her coffee is cold
The pungent smell, she breathes it
The white paper suffocates her

Her typewriter does not exist, exists not; is nonexistent.

I don't know why I'm writing so much lately. It really sucks up my time.