Tag: poetry

enjolrassuggestions:

for those of you who write poetry, here are some words that rhyme with revolution. please use them to promote the cause:

evolution, resolution, destitution, execution, substitution, absolution, retribution, constitution, electrocution, institution, dissolution, contribution, persecution, convolution, attribution, restitution, distribution, air pollution

bbc-killed-my-otp:

aromantic love letter

(because love comes in as many forms as there are people)

i love you

more than anything

i love the way your cheeks grow when you laugh

i love the way your eyes shine

i love your hands and how they feel in mine

reassuring that you’ll always be there

i love your dimples and your chapped lips

and how they part to let out sounds of happiness

and how you bite your tongue when you’re thinking

i love the books you read again and again

i love the movies we watch, together in your sofa

and how you cry at the end, always, even though you know how it ends

i love your band t-shirts, a few numbers too big

but it’s alright, it will shrink in the washing machine, you say

i love your messy hair around your face

and your old, tangled earphones, running from your phone to your ear like an umbilical cord

beating music into your ears

loudly in the Saturday evening,

softly in the Sunday morning

and i love your old, dusty typewriter, you got from your mother

you carry it down from the attic,

put words on a wrinkled paper

i love that

i love you

and although there are things i cannot give to you

even though you deserve it

i will give you what i can

and trust me on this;

i will give you my love

my heart

all of it

there are things i do not feel

but i’m not missing out

because trust me, my friend

i love you in the most non romantic way

i’m not like everyone else, it’s true

but my heart beats just the same

and it beats for you

He is light. It bathes your features when you stand pressed shoulder to shoulder.

You allow yourself the peace. (You were never good at denying yourself anything, least of all him).

You close your eyes and let this, him, rest beside you.

It sits like a quiet inhalation of smoke. (Your throat feels raw, but you can’t remember a time when it didn’t).

The chill in the air barely noticed as he is a veritable furnace beside you. (You use this as an excuse to press closer). His presence scalds, but you are used to the burn.

You inhale.

Exhale.

You cannot tell if the heartbeat you hear is yours or his; you do not want to be able to distinguish between the sounds.

He breathes beside you. He breathes.

If you blink, you think there will be sun spots dancing in front of your eyes.

You do not tell him this; he hates being compared to the sun.

But you think it as you watch him from the corner of your heavy, charcoal eyes.

You wonder if you kissed him, would it scour your tongue?

You look away. You do not see him watch you with equal care. He never understood art, but he thinks he does a little more every time he looks at you.

Your fingers find his.

Where they falter, his do not.

And you think,

He is light,

He is light,

He is light.

(via ashesbucky)

fuckingaromanticadventures:

theodulegillenormand:

Aphrodite and I

We aren’t friends.

She is the mother who wants to shape me,

Who wants to put me into shapes

I do not want to be shaped by.

Aphrodite stands with the back to me

Flowing silk reach until the ground,

Shining hair artfully twirled up,

And over her bare shoulders I see them:

Couples created after her ideal —

Lovers in love —

And I catch a glimpse

Of the love I cannot understand.

Aphrodite despises me,

For I,

I do not understand her love.

And her son, Amor, hates me

For every arrow breaks against my heart.

So Amor sits on my shoulder, like a watchdog sent by her

When I walk hand in hand with my best friend

And press a goodbye kiss to her cheek

Or when I run my hand through another friend’s hair

And Amor asks: Not more?

When Aphrodite blessed us with love,

Hestia cradled me in her arms too long

Showed me a home and

told me I was complete.

When Aphrodite split our hearts in half,

Artemis took me in before Aphrodite could,

And taught me how to love

with my heart intact.

Aphrodite and I.

We arent friends.

She is a monument of human desires

Created from the ideal of a tangible fantasy

Which promises a solution to the

Insecurities of life.

Love like I want you to, she says

And you will be happy.

Love like I have taught you to, she says

And you will be healed.

I know that love cannot heal.

Love cannot make me feel less broken for

She is the voice that tries to convince me

That I am broken,

That I am incomplete

She is the chain that wraps around my neck,

Delicate and beautiful,

And strangles me

For daring to be different,

For daring to think I am complete on my own.

She is the monster

That sharpens her claws on my heart,

Hoping for it to crack

And to break in half but instead,

Her claws turn dull,

For I,

I am not a child Aphrodite’s.

I was born from the warmth of Hestia’s hearth,

And raised with the faith of Artemis’ virgins.

Aphrodite and I.

We aren’t friends.

For I,

I do not need her.

This is??? So fucking??? Beautiful ???

definitelygrantaire:

Remember This

If you’ve lost your will to live,

If you’ve lost your will to fight,

If you can’t remember why you try,

What your purpose in this life is,

This is why you are here.

This is your reason to live.

This is your reason to fight.

Remember this:

Your parents love you,

They will ask what they did

Why you had to leave.

If you don’t have that,

Remember this:

Your little sister will miss you

She will wonder why you left.

Didn’t they love me? She will ask.

If you don’t have that,

Remember this:

Your friends will be crushed,

They wonder if it was them.

Did I not include them enough?

Did they think I didn’t care?

If you don’t have that,

Remember this:

Your pet will be confused,

It will wonder where you are,

Why you won’t wake up.

It will wonder why you won’t play,

Why you won’t cuddle.

And if you don’t have that,

Remember this:

I love you.

I don’t care what you’ve done,

What you think you deserve,

Or that you don’t deserve life.

You were given life for a purpose,

And without you,

The world is missing a piece of itself.

You play a role,

And no matter what you think,

Someone will miss you.

I will miss you.

——-

This just came to my mind because I felt like someone needed to hear this. I just hope that this meant something to someone, and remember, if anyone ever needs to talk, I’m here! I’m on your side and I don’t want any of you to ever feel alone.

Sonnet to Mrs Reynolds’ Cat

writing-orpheus:

by John Keats

Cat! who hast passed thy grand climacteric,
  How many mice and rats hast in thy days
  Destroyed? How many tit-bits stolen? Gaze
With those bright languid segments green, and prick
Those velvet ears – but prithee do not stick
  Thy latent talons in me, and up-raise
  Thy gentle mew, and tell me all thy frays
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists –
  For all thy wheezy asthma, and for all
Thy tail’s tip is nicked off, and though the fists
  Of many a maid have given thee many a maul,
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
  In youth thou enteredst on glass-bottled wall.