tahariel: (Book)
We can sit in the same
                                                room
            and not
                        touch
                                    speak
            interact at all; quite comfortable
sharing space between us, reading
different books and
                                    companionship without
            obligation to entertain
tahariel: (X-men First Class - Blue Sky Thinking)
We talk about
                        everything –
            words rambling like briars over
fertile ground, reaching
                        for some common goal, some
            shared opinion. We
                        disagree, sometimes, but gently.
We agree, mostly, in a rush of same syllable synchrony,
        tripping over one another, tanglefooted.
                                    Bedtime comes too soon.
                                    So do phone bills.
tahariel: (Washing machine)
I like to drive at
            night
            alone, mittened
                        streetlights orange gleaming
            heater on and radio;
to turn heavy metal beast
                                    silent coasting
            through the ebon sleeping
                        hinterland
stars pricking at my feet
tahariel: (I want you to know that)
You
                        left.
            There is a space where you were,
a vacuum, starless;
                        a hole in lost time.
                                    A gap, like a missing tooth
            I niggle with my tongue while waiting for the bus;
                                    sore and open but with no chance of filling.
            You did not choose this.
            Neither did I.
tahariel: (Underwater love)
A poem

doesn't have to be

read aloud       in                                          
               
arching voices;               
 
                        it can be
beautiful         

to

lay it out in                               
           
                                      strange arrangements

across a page like

                  blueprints for
imagination.
tahariel: (Star Trek - Kirk - Fuck my life)
Early morning wake-up call
"Wrong number,
sorry."
I lie in bed and curse the ceiling
as the dark room fades to dim-lit dawn
surrender; thermostat clicks on and off
as radiators gurgle.
Sleep is on-and-off fragments.
When sun comes up the phone is silent.
tahariel: (Cloud for brains)
It's been a year
                       and
I am still brittle with your poison.
                                          There is a piece of you inside me.
        Thinking of you makes me
nauseous with
  self-loathing
and
      sordid-feeling
  and
regret for the way I still
                      dance on your strings
tahariel: (Default)
I’ve read this
too many times
now
severed sentences like
falling limbs cut off from
meaning
just sounds and letters stringed
together like
daisy chains
or
paperclips
each one the same
unbeautiful and stationary
tahariel: (blind)
words
spill out
            like
puking ink
                        and
splatter paper curlicues and
sans seraph epitaphs
 

more like a disease than a desire
tahariel: (tv static)
Suddenly it is
            dark
outside at three pm
already dusky, sunlight draining like
orange juice down
to leave me
                floodlit
                        car-park swimming
key in hand, easy walk from
work and
            yet
                         my heart is
thrumming
tahariel: (Make something)
day off

Sunday blanket
curled up love-warm laptop humming
I watch a documentary, years-old learning
slowly
weekend food is scavenged, grazed
from an empty kitchen, used pans patient, stacked
for washing. Not today.
Outside sky blue air crisp autumn.
tahariel: (Cloud for brains)
Headache day = not fun. But I wrote another poem today. It's weird; I was never much of a poet before, but I'm quite enjoying it now. It's like all my creativity is finally finding enough headspace to come back in from the cold wastes of the last few years of struggling to squeeze out enough words to fill a post-it note.

p.s. I know it is not Sunday today but it made a better title


slow sunday prose

I fall in love with
                        narrative
and tone
when
a story is not just a story but
a window; watching
other people’s lives like
            falling
leaves
                        and
                                    blasphemies
and
            the smell of skin under glass
I like to live vicarious
                        deep-ocean feelings
then shelve them when I’m full and brimming with
sweet soft sounds of
distant loves and

pages turning

tahariel: (Default)
New iPhone OS
I blame you for
Embarrassing me
And
Letting me send that text to my Dad.

I never sent accidental texts before.
You fucked up all my apps and
Told me you didn’t work and
Gave me a heart attack
Then worked the second time
Just to rub it in.

He doesn’t want to know how
Much I love Teen Wolf and
That I wish Derek was the alpha and
Bossed Scott around
Instead of this bullshit terminology
That could have been cleared up by
Using a dictionary or
Asking an eight-year-old.

New iPhone OS
When I am dying of embarrassment
I want you to know
It was your fault.
(Teen Wolf rules.)



Note: I have only seen up to ep 3, but apparently this is enough Teen Wolf to cause a wrongly-directed text messaging incident.
tahariel: (Books)
...so, I thought about why I was stuck on the fic I was trying to write, and then I tried to write some more, and was stuck some more. So I did some more thinking.

Whenever I write fic, I've always been better at writing something that tries to convey a mood, a feeling, than at seriously plotty stuff. There's plot in there, but the plot is there as a catalyst to carry the mood over to the reader. That's what I'm good at, fic-wise. And the fic I was trying to write wasn't like that at all. I love love LOVE the premise, and I'm going to keep trying, but maybe it needs more gestation time first.

So now I'm writing something completely different! And I need your help!

Here is my question: what are your favourite poems? Why do you like them? Can you quote me some/all of it?

It would be really helpful! Thank you in advance :)

Poetry

Jan. 2nd, 2007 05:49 pm
tahariel: (FFX - Yuna - my life before)
Let's go back to where we were before
Though that's a dream and nothing more
A memory of the past that shaped the future;
Let's go back to where we used to be
Because right now you're just a memory of me
All these changes make me feel so insecure.
Unsure, like falling into empty space.
In time I'll forget your voice, your face.
tahariel: (Default)
And I felt
That small sharp pain inside
Like to a knife
Cutting away what is unwanted;
My feelings for you are unwanted
And you told me so
Didn’t you?
With the green in your eye…

Profile

tahariel: (Default)
tahariel

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