writernotwaiting:

“Matter and light”–a poem by me.

So, I’ve been seeing stories in the news about how rates of anxiety among young people have skyrocketed in recent years. And I’ve also been thinking about how many of my own friends are suffering from anxiety. And so, I was thinking about why this might be the case—why are we all so anxious when we live in a country and a time when our physical needs (ala Maslow’s hierarchy) are much more likely to be met than nearly any time in history?

There are a lot of answers to that question, but one that strikes me particularly is the fact that so much of our lives is on-line—and I don’t just mean “on-line” in terms of how much time we spend on social media. I mean everything seems to be on-line: shopping, banking, working, health care, friendships, education. if we aren’t doing it on line, then the records related to it are on line. And things on-line always seema little bit less real. You can’t touch them, or hold them. When you turn off your device they disappear.

So, my theory is that, because so much of our lives is on-line, much of how we define ourselves is also tied up on-line in a way that is intangible, or untouchable, and that contributes to our need to be seen, because as long as others see us, notice us, pay attention to us, that makes us feel more real.

Anyway, that’s where this poem came from. What do you think?

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charliebowater:

primalheart:

charliebowater:

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

A little doodle for one the most beautiful lines from any poem, The Old Astronomer.

This is not a little doodle. This. THIS. This is fucking MAGIC. You have captured pure wonder and whimsy and romance and bliss and that almost melancholy wholeness when you look up at the sky and just feel the smallness of your being and the grandness of the universe. All this captured with a lover’s eye. We cannot see her face but I feel the tender passionate ardour for this petite but mighty creature in the world. While at the same time I feel the bittersweet swoon of wanting to be gazed upon myself with such whole and overwhemling admiration and love. It is goddamn masterful.

I am fucking following your tumblr charliebowater you are amazing.

THAT’S THE NICEST COMMENT I’VE EVER READ.

writernotwaiting:

“The Backs of Ducks”–a poem by me.

@missdibley gave me a list a words from her fic, Hammersmith–it’s a Jane Austen (Persuasion), Return to Cranford, modern AU mash up that’s sweet and sexy. I’ll be honest. I am a GINORMOUS Jane Austen fan, and Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel, so OF COURSE I would like a fic based on it. I think, though, that this poem is a little (a lot?) more melancholy than missdibley’s story, so I will probably write another poem (hopefully soon) that better reflects the end of the fic. I think the poem makes sense whether you have read the story or not.

tagging my poetry friends (and a few others). Please let me know if you want off this tag list–I know perfectly well that not all of you actually asked to be here. Please tell me if I am being a pest.
Or, you know, maybe you want me to add you to the list–I can do that, too 😉

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#girl stuff | Lysbeth Em Benkert

writernotwaiting:

Dear Tumblr friends–I have a book!

Dancing Girl Press has just published a chapbook of my poems ($7). Many of these pieces were posted here as rough drafts under my pen name, Eva Mae Hamilton. I guess the cat’s out of that bag.

I AM BEYOND EXCITED AND IF YOU THINK THAT I WILL NOT BE RE-BLOGGING THIS ANNOUNCEMENT AD NAUSEUM, WELL YOU JUST DON’T KNOW ME AT ALL! 

I am totally tagging everyone who might be interested in this in even the tiniest way! Help me celebrate!!!!!!!

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Congratulations!! That’s beyond awesome.

#girl stuff | Lysbeth Em Benkert

writernotwaiting:

“It ends with an ellipsis”–a poem by me.

from a list of words given to me by @starkkissed1 from her fic Opportune, short and sweet Thorki (ok maybe sweet is not the right term! short and salacious?).

I love likes; re-blogs make my day; comments feed my soul!

tagging my poetry peeps (let me know if you want on or off the list) and a few potential fic fans, too, in case you’re interested.

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writernotwaiting:

incredifishface:

larouau12:

writernotwaiting:

“UnderOver”–a poem by me.

The voice in this one is a little different than usual, but I kinda like it–less formal. I think it could robably still use a little polishing, but I’m calling it mostly done–what do you think?

I love those likes; re-blogs make my day; comments feed my soul!

tagging my poetry peeps (let me know if you want on or off the list)

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If there’s one kind of writing I love most, it’s that which celebrates the otherwise unsung. The everyday things which are part of our lives, but the might have stopped seeing. BRAVA xxx

I love how you’ve woven the poetic with the annoyed pettiness. Makes me a bit sorry por the poor thing 😆

@larouau12 and @incredifishface so glad you liked it! I was poking around the internet to find prompts to send a writing partner and ran across one to write about bridges. I’m not sure why I thought about our sad little overpass and not some grand structure, but there you are!

And you know I just noticed that everything after the “no” is one very long sentence! I’m not sure how I managed that!

The gradual slope of the last few words is a nice touch: it both illustrates the unsleddability of the hill and conveys kind of a feeling of letdown.

untitled Thor poem

darklittlestories:


1.
You ride on the
taste-scent of rain,
the ozone breeze that
rushes over me
like a tidal pull

Gravitas—
a hammer, hard
on an anvil

the strike as
weighty as a moon
bearing full, pregnant light

but wild, joyful folly
stirs & drags me,
bare feet in wet soil
back to the
Old Ways,
the dark forest &
fallen trees, rotten wood
black from last season
soft from these spring storms

the hammer aloft,
you light up
   heavy limbs
   dark crannies
   shadowed moods
   & the earth, electric,

moves
to take in
Bolts of crackling
power, roaring
courses of water,
racing winds & wildling hearts
drumming hard in time beaten
by thunderclaps

2.
I feel you smile,
son of the Wanderer,
when your shadows
blot out our star

And you ask,
   “Wonderer,
   who brings the storm,
   & when you dance in my rain,
   will you speak
   my name?”

tagging some people who maybeeee??? like poetry for con-crit or helping me title it or just reading fun or whatever:)

@writernotwaiting
@fictions-stranger
@incredifishface
@illwynd
@lunariagold
@raven-brings-light
@philosopherking1887
@lokidreamsinbw

I was a lot less thrilled with Thor when freakishly loud thunder woke me up twice last night and drove my cat under the couch…