poetry time
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in time of daffodils (who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why, remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so (forgetting seem) in time of roses (who amaze our now and here with paradi
Poetry time
Ten Things That Ran Through My Mind the First Time I Ate Her Pussy
I have followed this next writer for some time now, and I thought she had previously made an appearance for Erotic Storybook Saturday. As it turns out however, that is not the case. I must have been saving her all for myself. In her own words, she is:
edgeofdesiire: (via myheartbelongstoyou) Today is Tuesday.My classes prevented me from sleeping in.I didn’t have breakfast.But I did talk about you.I’m waiting for the day I need to have a dosage.All I can think isone more time from the
edgeofdesiiire: underneaththissmiile: (via lonelyheart) favorite quote, of all time. My heart is ugly, but it could be all yours.
I wonder why we take from our women, why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it’s time we kill for our women, time to heal our women, be real to our women. #2pac #keepyaheadup #strictly4myniggaz #tupac #poetry #realtalk ✌
Next Time
Morning by Arjay EiffDelhi rises through youIn the hour after dawnSunrise clamour silencesThe brief time of the birdsI watch slow honey light pour inPicking off the jealous shadowsI trace its faint caressMy drowsy world stirs, turns and wakes
The first time ever you sucked my dickI saw my cum splash on your eyesAnd to swallow not spit was the gift you gaveTo the pale and spurting stream of my spermTo the pale and spurting streamThe first time ever I pierced your assI felt your ring tight on
Vernatun members in 1903. Isahakyan,Aghayan, Tumanyan (sitting) and Shant,Demirchian (standing).In 1899, Tumanyan came up with an idea of organizing meetings of Armenian intellectuals of the time at his house on 44 Bebutov Street in Tiflis (present-day
This is a computer generated poem called House of Dust by Alison Knowles in 1967. It’s gorgeous. Take the time to read it and imagine every scenario. Vividly. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alison_Knowles
A Thousand Thousand Times by André Breton
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Humble Beginnings Teenage dreams are humble beginnings. Decision time! Nonsensical hope of life. Ding - Dong, Just a couple of words. Great week on the devil’s highway. The pain barrier takes care of devalued concepts, But does it matter? Lost
Team Yume’s Dramatis Lectio: “Blaze” (An Interlude) It’s a BLAZING HORROR of DESPAIR (and really bad poetry) as your boys, Madhog and Devar, reprise that lurid literary leprosy known as the “Tails” Saga! This time, the
priscillajeanohare: biandlesbianliterature: secretlesbians: Wu Zao (or Wu Tsao) is considered one of the great female poets of China, and one of the greatest lesbian poets of all time. Very little of her work has been translated into English, but the
fireandsteelofangels: “I clutch you the devotion etched in my bones causing the cage to shake as my heart leaps from my chest into your warm embrace it’s you that I trust, that I need that if given time I could love and darling, I’m already halfway
lecataste: Maggie Nelson | “Times Square” | Shiner | 2001
violentwavesofemotion: “I held you, or I never held you, or I held you briefly, once, long ago, and you kissed me while my heart kept time.” — Kelly Cherry, from “First Marriage,” featured in “When She Named Fire: An Anthology of Contemporary
antigonick: “I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whisperingoh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?” — Mary Oliver,
I remember writing this about a couple people in my life at the time. Nostalgia at it’s finest.
I can hear the rain outside, But I feel it in my head Drowning my thoughts One drop at a time. I can feel my heart beat, Blood like lava Running fire through my veins. Burning skin Searing bones.
coffeeandcheesecake: The first time I say I love you, your face crumbles. You look at methe way man stares in terror at the stars and the sea. You grasp your head, fist your hair, hiss, whisper why me why me I am weak I am dirt I am dust I am nothing—
ellsworthsmelly: tooombz: Felix Gonzalez-TorresUntitled (Perfect Lovers) 1991. Clocks, paint on wall. Untitled (Perfect Lovers) consists of two clocks, which start in synchronisation, and slowly, inevitably fall out of time due to the failure of the
whatladybird:The first time I say I love you, your face crumbles. You look at methe way man stares in terror at the stars and the sea. You grasp your head, fist your hair, hiss, whisper why me why me I am weak I am dirt I am dust I am nothing— Why
Broken Poetry
i recognized your energy when i looked into your eyes. the connection of a thousand moons colliding into this time souls now together feeling as if they have been destined to be. to exist in a world together where time and distance dont matter. a world
This time, I’m gonna keep it to myself.
4chanpol:Holy shit, /pol/ really outdid itself this time.
freudian lips: Raw With Love little dark girl with kind eyes when it comes time to...
I think about this poem every 3 weeks. Rings true every time
metaphorformetaphor: By riding words that are bridled and reined Man has quickened The pace of time’s slow clocks: […] But sometimes they slip like robbers into realms of fantasy, Float on ebbing waters Of sleep, free of barriers, Lashing any sort
kirstenbreathesandlivesbooks: The more I read poetry, the more I wish I had started reading it sooner, just so I could have more time to read more and more poetry. I’m reading “Who Says Words with My Mouth?” by Rumi and I love it already. My favorite
visual-poetry: “time is running out” by anatol knotek
visual-poetry: “time wasting experiments” by alyson provax
visual-poetry: “time flies when you don’t know what you’re doing” by mungo thomson
bring me light bring me sun i can’t stand all of this night bring out the sun that i love make it warm make it glow the day it is too short my head is still in shock every time the sunlight disappears at five and what happened to the sunrise in
When will it be Christmas With good will and cheer When will apple crisp mornings and empty canvas skies greet me at my door I want spices and autumn bakes Christmas cookies and family I want holiday cheer today I guess Just that good old time religion
I am reading “dreaming in hindi” for my anthropology class but I want to drown in faust. It is pure poetry and meant to be spoken Your eyes will not hear its rhymes Thus read aloud and in time Or the magic is thense broken
Do you know how many times I have kissed my phone in lieu of you? How many times I wished I could swallow my phone Because it has your words in it And they feed my soul
myotherthoughtsblog: i wonder if you know just how badly my heart sinks each time you say later. I’ll talk to you later i understand for the most part but it still makes me a touch sad it can be hard to coordinate communication i don’t know when
visual-poetry: »time will tell« by darren almond (+)
cravings: lyrics-are-poetry: wowcorn: Two Sides of Tumblr omg this took forever but i’m so glad to be done. i don’t even know what to say about this ok but click to enlarge This is actually pretty awesome, the picture is brilliant because it’s
cazlamic: always-jessii: acquaintedwithrask: factorybibles: stfueverything: hippocrites: This explains rape perfectly. [TW RAPE] Jesus. if you don’t watch this you are making a mistake i love this i always have to watch fuck this is poetry
buzzfeed: [descriptive noise] subtitles are actually poetry
send-a-smile: “The Rape Poem to End All Rape Poems.” One of the best pieces of group spoken word poetry I’ve ever seen. WATCH IT.
buttonpoetry: Anna Binkovitz - “Asking For It” (CUPSI 2014)“Stop asking people’s clothing to have sex with you, and start asking people.”Performing for Macalester College at the 2014 College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational.
skate-high: marmosette: asylum-art: Magical Paths Begging To Be Walked Roads and paths pervade our literature, poetry, artwork, linguistic expressions and music. Even photographers can’t keep their eyes (and lenses) off of a beautiful road or path,
sweet-bitsy: sexybritishllama: sexybritishllama: when the moon hits ur eye like a big pizza pie thats amore when u swim in a creek and an eel bites ur cheek thats a moray im still laughing @ this #poetry
it all started with closed eyes and a feeling in my gut telling me i need to keep them shut the whole time because they opened even for a second and i saw your lips they’d suck me in like black holes when they bend light and it was then i realized
Goodnight kiddies.
Perfect timing for a beautiful book. 🖤 - #keatonhenson #accidentdancing #book #booklover #bookworm #bookstagram #instabook #bibliophile #poetry #faves #faveartist https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf5ZjS0vr3L/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
very bored with it all, life seems very shallow. I want a good book to read or an inspiring movie to watch, I want to travel and think and write poetry and read literature. I want to paint even though I’m not very good at it. I want more.
gender-bender: I have missed you so much.It isn’t that I don’t see you, I do.I see you in passing.I see traces of you, panties, a coffee cup, a scribbled note.We haven’t had time, and that is the one thing that can kill love.I need to be close
Photo - brynhilder.deviantart.com Like the sands of time through the hour glass, our lives pass us by. If there were only time to make it last, every second is another opportunity gone by. I know I should slow things down, and be patient as we grow.
You never have time to hear me out, my head is filled with pain. Tortured within by fear and doubt, the negative voices reign. Am I not worth you giving an hour or two? To you is this all just a game? Or am I imagining this all in my head, my thoughts
liriostigre:Mary Oliver, “From The Book of Time.” Devotions