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A Poem on Fury
hanitaflowers: right on.
pettycr0cker: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth…
fallen-into-her-arms: Hands held back… …knees on the floor. I present myself… … to the woman I adore. Head bowed… …I wait to please her. She approaches… …I can hear an amused purr. Her hand petting… …then gripping my hair. Pulling
radicaldreamersteph: Some of these trees have been growing for years The leaves on the floor must be five metres deep The paths are a labyrinth or even a trap Some tides don’t turn some things never come back. Secret recordings were made in
Dandelion… on Flickr. “I was a dandelion puff…Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence. Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs. They blew
Lend me your ears, and I'll sing you a song.: '10 Honest Thoughts On Being Loved By A Skinny Boy' - Rachel Wiley.
I am a small island And waiting. On the edge of the sea. For Her To sail Home To me.
Every night i am apart from you, it rains. Some times on the mountains that surround this valley some times over this little town some times only inside this tiny room but the rain is never ending kyo wa ame desu © Hikyuu Mikado 2014
dropletsofblood: Poem on We Heart It - http://weheartit.com/entry/86388955
Sea mist glistens on bare, soft skin, The scent of brine and stale gin; Off the starboard bow in such a plight, What a pretty little treasure for the crew’s delight!
sweet-little-submissive: Sea mist glistens on bare, soft skin, The scent of brine and stale gin; Off the starboard bow in such a plight, What a pretty little treasure for the crew’s delight!
pigmenting: something i wish i had realized earlier: you can write poems on the same subject more than once. you can write, paint, draw the same thing over and over if you want to. you can spend your whole life making art about oranges. i think i always
therepublicofletters: Classical or swing music? Novels or poems? Marble or wood? Statues or paintings? Rome or Paris?
ackergay: Inspired by But You Didn’t poem by Merrill Glass.
sumisa-lily:“there have been morningsso quiet and tenderlike a poem, on Thursday’s lipsthat I wonderedif I’d been kissed at all…” ~ Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
sumisa-lily: “there have been morningsso quiet and tenderlike a poem, on Thursday’s lipsthat I wonderedif I’d been kissed at all…” ~ Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
show-oswin-the-stars: based on this post (x)
I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth…
every wall of her room was a collage dedicated to her friends. when I was younger, I liked it. there were photos of me. memories of drawing on the driveway in sidewalk chalk, elaborate halloween costumes, wandering around the mall, birthday parties.
aw-hawkeye-no:this-onegoes:- Blythe BairdMe, chewing on my Bad Decisions™ Bagel in the corner:The Universe: What’s that in your mouth?Me, chewing faster:The Universe: I said, WHAT THE FUCK IS IN YOUR MOUTH
femprincess:marauders4evr:Do you think Ginny came up with her Valentine’s Day poem on her own?Or do you think she had help?LikeSay fromI don’t knowA magical diary or somethingThat she always confided inAnd would probably do whatever she askedLike
Someone just died, but I’m still alive, and yet I don’t have a soul anymore. All I have left is a transparent body, inside of which transparent doves hurl themselves on a transparent dagger held by a transparent hand. I see struggle in all
unclegoodtouch: cachonda: Una poema, Poem on her body. Not to mention the Death Star Tattoo…
I want to write poems on your inner thighs with my ink-stained tongue
pigmenting:something i wish i had realized earlier: you can write poems on the same subject more than once. you can write, paint, draw the same thing over and over if you want to. you can spend your whole life making art about oranges. i think i always
un4gettablelover:I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth…💋
kungfucharity: Lemonade complexion 😄 Ok but the poems on your board….
wordmeds: seized darkness, and moved on.
quewave: Bluebird there’s a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I’m too tough for him,I say, stay in there, I’m not goingto let anybody seeyou.there’s a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I pour whiskey on him and inhalecigarette
maybewereabitdifferent: charles bukowski poem on We Heart Ithttp://weheartit.com/entry/91929803/via/vintagefan179
allystruggles: Having to listen to Lana Del Rey in your gay friends’ cars and pretend it doesn’t sound like an old man trying to read a poem on his deathbed
kittentay: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth…💋
iwanttobeking: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth.
visual-poetry: hünfeld is a town in germany with more than 100 concrete poems on house fronts. “das offene buch in hünfeld”
hydeordie: Glenn Ligon Notes for a Poem on the Third World (Chapter One), 2018
vuls:Poem on His Birthday (41)| Micah Lexier
pettycr0cker: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth… I am one of those crazy white people… :)
morbid-twat: kittentay: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth. -
cachonda: Una poema, Poem on her body.
meadowkitten: Write poems on my body and put flowers in my hair
abagond: brashblacknonbeliever: neoliberalismkills: A spoken word poem on hipster racism, whiteness, white privilege, cultural appropriation, and micro aggression. It’s fucking amazingly done. I will forever reblog this every time I see it. Kai
I Could Write Poems On Your Neck With My Lips
resistinglove: I want to write poems on your skin with my mouth… Damn
magictransistor:R. Buckminster Fuller. Untitled Epic Poem on the History of Industrialization. 1970.
whitegirlsaintshit: allystruggles: Having to listen to Lana Del Rey in your gay friends’ cars and pretend it doesn’t sound like an old man trying to read a poem on his deathbed I hate yall
mean-mouth: Could you imagine how cool it would be to write poems on this and stuff.
mydarkangel2pls: kingsbrokenroad Now you have my mind focused too, On all the things you want to do, With visions of wonderful things in my head, I’m craving to hear you and feel you in my bed, My hands are yours as they roam my body, But the urgency
awordnerd: worldwidewayne: In honor of Holden & Allie Caulfield, I’m going to start writing inspirational and poignant quotes or poems on this softball glove that I found in my closet. Rad. HOLDSTER
greenerygirls: “The trouble with me is that whether I get love or not / I suffer from it.” — C.K. Williams, from The Collected Poems; “On the Roof”
bluebeardsbride: “Modern language is deeply suffused with the long-standing association of the heart with emotional states. We talk of a heart fit to burst, learn things by heart, engage in heart-to-hearts or have our heart set on something. If we
