TheVirtuesofFortitude

The Brinksmanship of Womanhood. Literature, Men, Poetry, Art and Beauty.
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Bottled Soul

You can bottle water.
You can place
a thing that flows from
nature
into a thing that pollutes
nature.
You can bottle a heart.
You can take
a beating, life-giving thing
and put it
in another’s hands.
You can bottle a soul.
You can take
a thing that shines
for eternity
and never share it
with anyone.

Eli, Eli

nectar-traps:

Sunday, and the Son
is lying, nailed to a cross

on the ground, and he is
himself smiling,

blue-lipped; his lungs,
dark and floral in his chest.

This is the resurrection:
this sarcophagus of flesh;

the boulder of his final breath,
rolled from his lips,

and on his tongue,
a sabachthani  has been left

to its decay, death-laced; these voices
laying eggs between his teeth.

Sunday, and the Father
kneels beside his fertile son

to sow the flesh
he’d formed to rot

with poppy seeds. 

…luxury has never appealed to me, I like simple things, books, being alone, or with somebody who understands.

Climbing into me, putting myself into you
Touching those lips, I violently caress them with mine

Kissing you until I taste you deep within
Our hands are merged and finely laced

Your body traced by fingers writing letters of love
Our laboured breaths induced by the desire to become one.

by Inf3rno777 (via fiebre)

spiderwebsandteacups:

A girl who admires the stars

Is a very dangerous girl indeed,

For there will be a day, 

Where your eyes may not be enough for her,

Where she will look up at the night sky,

And never look back.

Melisande

"She’s in love."
"I don’t know her."
"Yes you do." 
"Since when?"
"Always. 
In your dreams.”

(Source: Spotify)

poetsorg:

Advice to young poets from Saeed Jones.
To see more postcards from our 2012 Poets Via Post program, visit poets.org.

poetsorg:

Advice to young poets from Saeed Jones.

To see more postcards from our 2012 Poets Via Post program, visit poets.org.

Sheltered and Sequestered

The child sought
the opportunity to speak
and grasped at anything,
and anyone who would
listen. 
A seen-and-not-heard 
smile painted on his
face
and his mouth sheltered
and sequestered
by over-bearing,
unrelenting authority.
"You’ll understand
when you’re older.” 

Best thing about babysitting an eight year old: conversations about Avatar: The Last Airbender and getting to tell her there’s two more seasons. I love da kids. 

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