(via papertissue)

Click the photo for the original source.

So if this was a poem…

The day begins in the middle of the night. I am not paying attention to
the clock.
I am the one who takes
the ticking,
the pulsing,
underneath every part of this moment.
I am listening and I am not listening because
it’s something I’m feeling all over.

(via papertissue)

Click the photo for the original source.

So if this was a poem…

The day begins in the middle of the night. I am not paying attention to

the clock.

I am the one who takes

the ticking,

the pulsing,

underneath every part of this moment.

I am listening and I am not listening because

it’s something I’m feeling all over.

Time

Hello, wake up

The Pace, the Time, the Heart

is racing.

Rise up, rise up,

Feel the Air, the Earth, the Heat

embracing

Your Skin, your Bones, your Soul.

Reach, child, reach

For the vast expanse of your Future,

Love, child, love

All the moments of your Present,

Live, child, live

Through all the shadows of your Past.

The Institution

written April 2nd 2010


so long did we bathe in the certainty

that all the world was ours –

ours to prune and influence

but now we drown in the ambition

that crept behind to smother us

in false hope and security

 

so long did we wait, spirits full of promise

they told us with so much optimism

of the peaks that we would scale

of the oceans that we would sail

we never considered we would fail –

 

so long did we bathe in confidence

only to realise

just how many there are:

promising spirits just like ours

jostling, begging, hoping, praying

for the same chance

that we spent years working for.

Unless this general evil they maintain,
All men are bad and in their badness reign.

—Sonnet 121, William Shakespeare

Glass

The orginal post of this poem is here: www.aldanasanders.blogspot.com

I’ll be posting some poems on this tumblr, but mostly they’ll be on my blogger.

———

do not look through me

I am Flesh and I am Blood

bundle of pulsing veins, beating heart

throbbing muscles.

do not close your ears to me

I am Whole

I am Real

full of thought, bursting with emotion

overflowing with passion.

I exude Life - if I do Exist indeed

I am Tangible and I Breathe

the air that you breathe

I feel the heat of the sun on my skin

sinking into my bloodstream

and firing my core

I Feel, and I Love,

And I admit that I Hate.

yet the gaze of others runs straight through me

uninterrupted as if through glass

eyes looking not  seeing

but I am Flesh

and I am Blood

and I demand that I am Seen.

And in the midst of this wide quietness / A rosy sanctuary will I dress / With the wreathed trellis of a working brain / With buds and bells and stars without a name

—John Keats, Ode to Psyche

NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY