wtf is wrong with people and gin nowadays?

{random poetry #93}


just when I thought I was over you,
strong enough to let go;
I picked up my pen.
and once again
you were there,
at home in the palm of my hand.
like a severed artery,
you came in wave after wave,
leaving me empty, confused.
the page was no catharsis,
it was a crime scene
and I am guilty as charged.
my punishment for not loving you enough?
to love you forever but never with you.

•.•❤•.•

how do you know if you’re on the right path?
if her thighs are compressing your head
like a carpenter’s vice,
if she’s trying to force feed you her tongue, via her pussy,
if you can fit both arms beneath the curve of her spine, without making
any contact with the flesh on her back,
it’s safe to say,
you’re heading
in the right direction.

•.•❤•.•

listen to her silence
and understand
that words,
can sometimes
bring unnecessary noise,
to an otherwise
meaningful conversation.

via graciouswords


{ less scroll, more click }

{random poetry #92}


[ don't forget ]

there is always somebody or something
waiting for you,
something stronger, more intelligent,
more evil, more kind, more durable,
something bigger, something better,
something worse, something with
eyes like the tiger, jaws like the shark,
something crazier than crazy,
saner than sane,
there is always something or somebody
waiting for you
as you put on your shoes
or as you sleep
or as you empty a garbage can
or pet your cat
or brush your teeth
or celebrate a holiday
there is always somebody or something
waiting for you.

keep this fully in mind
so that when it happens
you will be as ready as possible.

meanwhile, a good day to
you
if you are still there.
i think that i am -
i just burnt my fingers on
this
cigarette.

Bukowski, C. (1920 – 1994) 


“hearts can break.
yes, hearts can break.
sometimes i think it would be better if we died when they did,
but we don't.”
King, S., in Hearts in Atlantis



*great tip


“between what is said and not meant,
and what is meant and not said,
most of love is lost.”
Gibran, K.


Não é a crueldade de todos aqueles mortos e feridos, o sacrifício de todos os que morrem batendo-se, ou são mortos sem que se batam, que pesa duramente na alma: é a estupidez que sacrifica vidas e haveres a qualquer coisa inevitavelmente inútil. " 
Fernando Pessoa



{random poetry #91}


{ The Fascination of What’s Difficult }

The fascination of what's difficult
Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent  
Spontaneous joy and natural content
Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt  
That must, as if it had not holy blood  
Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,  
Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt
As though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays  
That have to be set up in fifty ways,
On the day's war with every knave and dolt,  
Theatre business, management of men.  
I swear before the dawn comes round again   
I'll find the stable and pull out the bolt.

Yeats, W. B. (1865-1939)

{random poetry #90}


[ He bliss of with ]

You have come to me out of antiquities
We have loved one another for generations
We have loved one another for centuries

You teach me to trust the voice of my voices
You teach me to believe my own believings
You touch the palpability of my possibilities

Together we reflect what our mirrors conceal
Together we upgrade the sun in our meridians
We remain open night and day to transcendence

You are incompletely disguised as a mortal
You are the eternal stranger I have always known 
I saw your wings this morning
I saw your wings this morning

[ Quit your addiction ]

Quit your addiction
to sneer and complaint
Try a little flaunt
Call for comrades
who bolster your vim
and offer you risk
Corral the crones
Goose the nice nellies
Hunt the bear that hugs
and the raven that quoths
Stay up all night
to devise a new dawn

[ Having Come This Far ]

I've been through what my through was to be
I did what I could and couldn't
I was never sure how I would get there

I nourished an ardor for thresholds
for stepping stones and for ladders
I discovered detour and ditch

I swam in the high tides of greed
I built sandcastles to house m
y dreams
I survived the sunburns of love

No longer do I hunt for targets
I've climbed all the summits I need to
and I've eaten my share of lotus

Now I give praise and thanks
for what could not be avoided
and for every foolhardy choice

I cherish my wounds and their cures
and the sweet enervations of bliss
My book is an open life

I wave goodbye to the absolutes
and send my regards to infinity
I'd rather be blithe than correct

Until something transcendent turns up
I splash in my poetry puddle
and try to keep God amused.

Broughton, J (1913-1999) 

If you don't fill your days with love, you are wasting your life.






"if someone told me to write a book on morality, 
it would have a hundred pages and ninety-nine of them would be blank. 
on the last page i would write, 
“i recognize only one duty and that is to love.” 
and as far as everything else is concerned, 
i say no."
Camus, A.


“for a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone.
the shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes.
to someone who doesn't understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.”
Occelli, C.


“looking back over a lifetime, 
you see that love was the answer to everything.”
Bradbury, R. (1920-2012)