sweatermuppet:

sept 7 2023 poetry warm up, inspired by frank ohara

[Image ID: two lines from a notebook. it reads, all caps, “it is September & too warm & i miss you most in the morning.” /End ID]

tranquildeath:

born to always mourn the present like it’s already become a memory

selfhealingmoments:

luthienne:

George Seferis, from Collected Poems; “Memory I” (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)

[Text ID: I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,]

heavensghost:

So much time has gone by, I didn’t know how much I would change

luthienne:

Reginald Dwayne Betts, from Felon; “Night”

[Text ID: Listen, who hasn’t waited for something / to happen? I know folks died waiting. I know / hurt is a wandering song. / I was lost in my fear.]

the-weird-poet:

“I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief.”

~ C.S. Lewis