"augustus" poems
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
6.9k
i know i am young,
i know i am only seventeen,
but when i think of him
and his incandescent smile,
my heart swells and beats in time
with the cadence of his alluring words
his mind is like no other,
filled with such deep
and captivating thoughts
that flutter from place to place
like a moth, and like a moth
i am drawn to his brilliance
i long to hold his face in my hands
and trace his lips with my fingertips
and when i close my eyes
all i see is the way he looks at me,
as if i’m the one who paints
the summer evening sky
i know i am young,
i know i am only seventeen,
but i think i could spend
the rest of my life searching
and never find anything
nearly as beautiful as
the way he loves me
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
*by Augustus M. Toplady
(1740-1778)*
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.
Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
~ Augustus M. Toplady
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
John Green made me sad in the best possible way...
So thanks
Augustus,who taught me to love people no matter what.
Hazel,for showing me we are all beautiful.
Alaska,for saying its okay to be a bit mischievous.
Pudge,for proving that you don't have to have millions of friends to feel loved.
The Coronel, for teaching me to believe in myself,no matter where I had come from.
Colin,for my eureka moment.
Both Will Graysons,for showing me is okay to not know exactly who you are.
And every character in Paper Towns,who just made me really happy.
But lastly and most importantly I'd like to thank John Green,because you made my life a better place with your books, and for that I'm forever greatful
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
You told me I was beautiful,
A cigarette between your teeth.
I raged at the careless gesture,
You laughed and smiled.
The first meeting,
A beautiful metaphor.
A first kiss,
A shared wish,
And the silent love.
A beautiful metaphor.
Happily Ever After came crashing down,
Our demise up in lights,
You held on 'til the bitter end,
A flickering candle in the dead of night.
A beautiful metaphor.
You'll live forever in me.
Augustus and Hazel,
Okay? Okay.
A beautiful metaphor.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
I love you Augustus,
With my heart entire,
It is you,
I admire,
With all my heart.
It may not seem okay,
That you left me to stay,
With my heart broken,
But as you always say,
"Maybe 'okay' will be our always,"
So will be it.
Okay.
This is our token,
For the "third" space I felt,
And hopefully I'll feel.
Tell me, Augustus Waters,
What can I do when all I can feel is loneliness?
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
comfortable silences
are like a third space
found in the phone calls
of Hazel Grace
and Augustus Waters
they hold their own infinity
with the power of words
unspoken
because nothing needs to be said
in a place of mutual silence
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Said Myrtias (a Syrian student
in Alexandria; in the reign of
Augustus Constans and Augustus Constantius;
in part a pagan, and in part a christian);
"Fortified by theory and study,
I shall not fear my passions like a coward.
I shall give my body to sensual delights,
to enjoyments dreamt-of,
to the most daring amorous desires,
to the lustful impulses of my blood, without
any fear, for whenever I want --
and I shall have the will, fortified
as I shall be by theory and study --
at moments of crisis I shall find again
my spirit, as before, ascetic."
2.9k
though said to be golden like that of Eris,
the mores which you so savor are hollow with worms.
your stony statutes, finally crumbling, now
remind me of rose-colored saran wrap:
stretched too thin across the epochs
to bind each lawless Julia at present.
able now to be whole—free from your unadulterated peace,
spun, measured, and cut are your class lines at last.
and so with a sigh of relief so great that it could echo across
all of the Caucasus,
your Ovid, cast away, has returned.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
I've got a hot date in Heaven..
Don't keep me up 'cause he'll be waiting,
He was my first love,
And maybe my last love,
.. Sometimes my worst love,
But we won't talk about that ;)
And i'm lying here while he sets us a table,
I've been to Amsterdam but never to the city of angels
All i know is i'm in love,
With my only best friend..
And it's a holiday i'll tell them,
I'll be back more 'heaven sent'..
But til then i'll just talk to the stars..
Oh would it be okay if i chose not to move on?
'Cause i believe in holding on,
And i believe you're holding on too
&All; the stars that alligned us,
Will hopefully find us..
Again,
And again..
And againnn..
I've got a hot date in Heaven..
Don't keep me here 'cause Augustus is waiting..
He was my first love
And maybe my last love
But always my favourite love
... Yeah i'll talk about that.
Someday i'll write about that.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
(the birth of Christ - in Gen-Z slang)
Mary and Joseph were tight-ship.
Mary was a real-one, and no clout-chaser
One night Angel Gabriel overstreeted with word
that Cap-G made Mary chabby with soup-baby
Mary was shook and big-mad but Joseph
was baby-goggles for Cap-G’s quinlan fetus
so Mary was “okrrrrrrrrr”
A minute later Mary and Joe had to roll deep,
adulting to Bethlehem with tribute to Augustus,
the main character, but no mo-mo swerved em’
ghetto and asan Mary was Cap-G’s baby-mama!
Later these bchaps rfts biters brang Cap-J
some bag and herb to extra flex for Cap-G
while angels lay in the cut with lowkey bop.
———————- translation
Mary and Joseph were married and in love.
Mary was an average girl not into notoriety
.
One night Angel Gabriel appeared and said
that God made Mary pregnant with his child
Mary was shaken-up and and angry but Joseph
Was excited for them to have God’s beautiful child
so Mary was had no choice but to say “OK”
Months later Mary and Joe had to travel far together,
As citizens, to Bethlehem to pay taxes to Augustus (Caesar).
Emperor of rome, but a lack of motels caused them to
Stay in a manger and there Mary had God’s child.
Later these rich star followers brought Jesus
some money and herb as gifts to impress God
while angels gathered and sang to comfort the child.
Dec 17, 2021
Dec 17, 2021 at 5:14 AM UTC
Ek skrik die 10de Augustus wakker.
Iets voel verkeerd, so swaar, so leeg.
Met 'n knop in my keel raak my gemoed swakker.
Min het ek geweet, dat treur so swaar kon weeg.
Vaagweg **** ek, "I look to you"
"And when melodies are gone"
"I hear you in a song"
Ouma was ons eie Whitney Houston
Haar sterk gees was ons rots.
Al het ons met tye lekker koppe gebots.
Sy was my vestiging, ons familie se trots.
Mag die rose in Bloemfontein altyd ouma se naam onthou.
Die pragtige rooikop dogtertjie in liefde toegevou.
Ouma se omgee het my soveel keer gered.
Die dankbaarheid gekoester in my mooiste gebed.
Mag die voëltjies altyd bly sing
Terwyl ouma se stories mooi herinneringe bring
Ouma was altyd bereid om te help
Vol genade het ouma, harde harte versmelt
Mag oupa altyd verlief bly
Sodat ons verdwaaldes, ook die regte prentjie kan kry
'n 53 - jaar, onvoorwaarlike liefde verhaal
So opreg, en eerlik, die mooiste mylpaal
Dankie dat ouma my aanvaar het vir wie ek is
Al sit ek heel wat die potte mis
Dankie vir alles wat ek by ouma kon leer
Dankie vir elke drukkie, vergifnis, keer op keer.
Dankie vir elke koppie soet tee
Vir al die miljoene trane wat ouma moes afvee
Dankie dat julle vir my alles kon gee
Dat hulle harte net liefde kon skree
Dankie dat ouma my veilig kon hou
Ons verlang alreeds, en sal verewig onthou.
Ons bly, onvoorwaarlik lief vir jou.
Ek gaan ouma mis, al my liefde, Thomas.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:52 AM UTC
E G Am
Farmer Giles of Ham
E G Am
Was just an ordinary man.
E G Am
But when a giant came to destroy the village
E G Am
Giles ran outside and shot that giant in the nose
Am
and don't you know, that giant never came back to Ham
Am E
Ever again
E Am
He's farmer Giles of Ham
E G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.
E G Am
The evil dragon Chrysophylax
E G Am
was terrorizing the countryside
E G Am
king Augustus sent a messenger to Ham, he said
E G Am
"Giles he's our man, and if he cant do it
Am
no one can. Fetch me the farmer,
Am E
farmer Giles of Ham
E Am
He's farmer Giles of Ham
E G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.
E G Am
With his coat made of iron rings
E G Am
and the sword given to him by the king
E G Am
Giles went to the dragons lair that day
E G Am
Poor dragon had to give its whole hoard away
Am
and as you can imagine that made the dragon
Am E
very very mad
E Am
At farmer Giles of Ham
E G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.
E G Am
Giles later went on to be the king
E G Am
but he didn't forget his friends i Ham
E G Am
when he moved into castle he brought them all along
E G Am
he even brought his talking dog, and if you recall the dog,
Am E
the dogs name is Gram
E Am
At farmer Giles of Ham
E G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
I got a letter from the government
A week back, Tuesday morning
It came in a grey envelope
It was stamped with a red warning
The envelope was tattered
And the words were inked in red
To be opened by recipient
That was all it said
I checked the name typed on there
It was mine, so I could see
John Augustus Reed
Beale Street, Unit 43
I opened it and sat right down
I had been drafted so it said
I had to report on Thursday
I heard a ringing in my head
I didn't understand it all
To me it made no sense
This plain grey mottled envelope
Sent from my government
I followed the instructions
And showed up promptly at the place
Something was asunder
I could tell from the man's face
I showed him my draft letter
Explained, I didn't understand
He looked at it and laughed a bit
This wasn't what I'd planned
He said son, is this you
Are you John Augustus Reed
I told him I'm John Junior
He said that's all the news I need
This letter is a glitch, boy
It wasn't meant for you
It was sent out to your father
Back in nineteen seventy two
Somehow it was mangled
Got lost along the way
Until somebody found it
And you got it on that day
I'm glad you chose to come here
Showed up exactly when it said
But, I think you now can go on home
I think it's best, instead
It's amazing how one letter
And you can take this to the bank
Can fill a man with honor
For that I must give thanks.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
Eskimos have a Gazillion
words for snow. We have
teraflop words for coffee.
Wikipedia it!
But don't get distracted
by the Tales.
Recounted stories of empires
held together by zeitgeist brand,
a belief, a set of ritual,
buying in bulk, a role of thumb,
opposable heuristics.
They've clustered history
in bunches like expanding
matter, as if it matters
who was king or Augustus.
Empires & civilization
held colloidal by the quirks
of geology and brand
feeding food-forward
with ritualistic sacrifice
in Megazillion iterations.
From Fertile crescent to Nile
Valley silicon, when we bind
ourselves to brand,
and move in belief,
secure in synchronized stability,
then comes the rubric cubes
miraculously built high
upon slave backs, holding
pyramidal server tombs.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
There was a point
when i knew that i
was going to die.
And at that moment
i couldn’t help but
think of Hazel
and infinities
and breathing
and death.
I recalled the day
when hazel was sat
next to me and we
talked about
infinities. How
between one and
two there are many,
and even more
between zero and
two. Now, i can’t
help but think:
breathing is our
largest infinity. Like
the numbers between
one and two,
breathing never
ends. But like the
person who
eventually stops
counting the number
between one and
two, my lungs get
tired. And
eventually, they too,
must
stop.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
quanta is better understood outside of physics,
on a grander scale -
quantum is a quality suggestion that
makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive
as pertaining in the matter -
never mind - take the concept of quanta
out of physics and you get
a man readying himself for a controlled
coma having his wisdom teeth removed,
with the anaesθetician asking about
the readers' digest, the patient replying
quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then
the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?'
puts any man off, whether boxer,
or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored
for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead,
tongue hanging ready for a guillotine.
CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman
(jamnik / dachshund on stilts)
and a ρoττł-
y
woo woo woo chim chimney
cha cha cha ooh
the rotting wail - rottweiler -
-ειλερ;
you never mention the u with the v due to
the chisel ease, then again, you don't
say double-o'h but say double u -
too shay frowning at a shave;
****** i'll make your language my playground
given all these post-colonial ***** aiming
for a signature and credentials,
this **** could pass the London brigade,
but take it to York, it would be a massacre
of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials...
a viking invasion more-or-less;
oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens
and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym,
both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression
to make testimony that such an age existed,
a particular congregate of expression, never universal,
boxes and pockets, however much inside one
is a question of your dietary requirement,
quantum physics is better explained with history
than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs,
people need a bigger picture, not everyone own
a ******* microscope or a telescope,
teach quantum physics using history:
Philippe Augustus of France mattered,
at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
(n.)
a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that has been loved and then lost
January //
Your smile makes flowers grow in my lungs and I'm too busy taking care of the garden, pulling the weeds out for the flowers to live and bloom, I forget I need to breathe too
February //
They say addiction is a habit; kisses are drugs but your lips are rehabilitation and I keep coming back for more sessions because I need it; you're my "personal brand of ******
March //
I write symphonies about the way a single touch from you defines the revolution of the Earth but I was wrong; it actually defines the whole galaxy
April //
My eyes are the same hue of empty, vacant, while the ocean is trapped in your eyes; there are more than meet those chocolate orbs, so let me explore every depth of the waters with you
May //
Your voice is the sound of the soft pitter-patter of the falling rain on the window pane after a storm, and the clouds don't hide the sun anymore
June //
I love the smell of books and coffee, especially with extra teaspoons of sugar and a story about looking for a place to call home as I long for the scent of belonging I only get from having you wrapped in my arms
July //
I fell in love with the way every novel I read has pages with traces of your footprints, your mark imprinted in my heart like how one is drawn to TFIOS; heartbreaking and tear-filled but it was true and the love is real, sort of like you and I; I like to think of it like that — you are Hazel and I am Augustus
August //
I don't believe in full-stops, I don't believe there could be an end to this love we have like how there is an end to a sentence; you might not have noticed that there is not a single full-stop here because our story is not ending, I'm not saying goodbye yet, and Augustus has not died yet; please do not leave me
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
my mother told me
that I should take
great precaution
because some people die
of a broken heart
what she doesn't know
is I would choose
to die
in the most brutal
and grotesque ways possible
over and over again
just to have my heart
broken by
you.
Don't tell her I said that.
-m.j.a
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:46 AM UTC
are you doing well? i hope you are.
(deleted)
christmas is coming up. all i really wanted was to spend it with you.
(deleted)
it's becoming increasingly difficult to rest without your soft breaths to lull me to sleep.
(deleted)
every single poem i've written in the last two months has been about you.
(deleted)
i hear your laugh in mine, sometimes.
(deleted)
your voice is the only thing that occupies my mind now. you've taken me over completely.
(deleted)
i'm not sure if you broke my heart or if i broke my own heart by letting you in.
(deleted)
do you write about me like you used to?
(deleted)
remember when we watched the great gatsby together? i still look at you like gatsby looked at daisy.
(deleted)
you mean everything to me. you always have.
(deleted)
i hate that i can't stop loving you. why was it so easy for you to stop loving me?
(deleted)
you are my augustus waters.
(deleted)
in the famous words of kate moss: "you're in my veins, you ****
(deleted)
i am always wanting to start a conversation with you, but never knowing how to start it.
(deleted)
i think i love you more than i did before. i'm sorry it took us to separate for me to realize that.
(deleted)
i am in tears while writing this. it seems that whenever i think about you my eyes betray me.
(deleted)
i am still trying to figure out where we went wrong.
(deleted)
i had expected to feel bitter after you left. all i feel is nostalgic.
(deleted)
despite everything, i honestly hope you are happy.
(deleted)
i think i'll always get butterflies when i think about our first kiss. i'll always get butterflies
when i think about you, and what we used to have.
(deleted)
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Dearest Mr. Green,
It was an honor to have my heart broken by you. Your book, The Fault in Our Stars was one of the best recommendations I may have ever crossed. I thank you deeply for all the hours of pure giddiness and tortuous pain that you created in both Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters. However, I do have many questions about Hazel's future: does she ever loose her battle to her cancer? What happened to Augustus's parents soon after the loss of their son set into reality?
Your story honestly had my heart ripping slowly into pieces, the way you described how Hazel Grace and Augustus had crossed paths and went down a beautiful road into the hearts of all your readers... gave me the deepest appreciation of the young fighters of childhood cancers.
As a daughter of a cancer survivor, I've had my fair shares of visiting support groups with my mother while she was going through her treatments. I remember the panic I felt every time she went in for PET scans and Chemo, worrying for any ounce of her body to betray her. Thank you for making the pain and worry of cancer so beautifully worded, and the uncertainty of how quickly cancer can easily take the happiness away from someone.
Thank you for the hopes given to me when you wrote the heartfelt words, “Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”
You are truly an incredible soul with a heartbreaking habit of writing books with main characters who tend to die of some serious form of illness. I find you to be both evil yet so perfect when it comes to your stories. You are my inspiration. However, I am slightly upset that AIA is not a real book. It would be quiet a wonderful rollercoaster to ride.
“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal” Yours, could not have put my thoughts onto paper in any more of a perfected way.
Yesterday, you gained a new fan. I adore you as an author and person. I really do.
Sincerely,
m.b
July 11, 2013- I have yet to hear a reply...
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
I'm sorry for when I called
you an *******
Even though it was my fault
and I was having a 'bad day'.
I'm sorry I never responded to 5
that text.
When you said I was a
good kisser, but I think you too.
I'm sorry I'm short
because of hereditary. 10
Because it means you have
to stoop, I to lean, for us to kiss.
I'm sorry I'm not taller to see
your green-hazel eyes.
The eyes are the window to 15
the soul, but I don't have one.
I'm sorry for playing guitar
so badly.
But no one has ever told me to
stop, so I never did. 20
I'm sorry for not keeping tally
on the McD vs. KFC fight.
For the amounts of hits and
misses, each response had back.
I'm sorry for never saying upfront; 25
I love you.
But you don't love me, because
Who could? Not an angel like you.
I'm sorry for not liking punk music
all that much. 30
I want to understand, but 'Sixteen
Candles' doesn't appeal.
I'm sorry for not crying
at TFIOS.
Augustus was beautiful, Hazel too, 35
But cancer doesn't scare me.
I'm sorry for not talking about
your personal crisis.
When all I feel I do is
Talk about 'The Other' with you. 40
I'm sorry for being a
narcissist.
For being me. ME. ME! All the time,
When you are so much more interesting.
I'm sorry for being a 45
*****
For what I didn't mean to say,
That might have made you cry.
I'm sorry for being a
misogynist. 50
And for hating men too. And
for all I've ever said against the human race.
I'm sorry for sighing
so much.
It's just I'm tired of 55
Everything I do. I'm done.
I'm sorry for talking to you when you wanted
to talk to friends.
But being the gentleman you are,
Didn't tell me to go away. 60
I'm sorry for wasting your
time.
When you could have being speaking,
playing, dreaming, sleeping, living.
I'm sorry for you knowing 65
me.
And talking to me at all. Because I'm a spider,
Slowly ******* the life out of you.
I'm sorry for existing
here. 70
Or just existing at
all.
I'm sorry for being
sorry.
Because I know you hate it when I 75
apologize for the things I say.
I'm sorry for living
at all.
Because all I do is drain your optimism,
And replace it with cynical thoughts. 80
I'm sorry for breathing.
I'm sorry for writing this poem.
I'm sorry that you know me.
I'm sorry for it all.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
*enter slav digressing with the celt... yeah, saxony, once known as the northern arm's length of parody shaking oiled up speaking saracen sign language: arabica wavy wavy bye bye. you concrete those words in i roof it over, then we can both admire the rich russian vixens dry up their wealth with the saudis - we need television after all - and it’s in 3-d! and it’s 1-d head-banging closure! :)... ;( :x, :s, \: (mouth’s missing but i have a mammoth in malibu -
and my love can’t aim to have the mortgage too - but hey, girl’s heading for the one coin-flip dolphin clap; and i was a teenager once too... but played grand theft auto 2d throughout asking for a bottle of whiskey and a panda’s / koala’s bothersome diet to hunt sleep); is there some sign language translation of emoji? i just don't have the talents to enter the emoji language and become a ********* or make democracy justly an exclusion of cowards and ****** i can’t do that, let’s utilise charles the third! ‘too busy, too fuzzy,’ well hear and karma sutra the talk of the man, after all the coinage and respecting the hedgehog on his head.*
i cleaned it into a hotel like i would into a brothel,
while the suffragettes
looked like the elephant man in niqāb,
and i was ready
with the fist; although i shook less
than i spoke to mouth it off into democracy
continuing the power struggle vetoed with bodies extracted
into the count warranting mourning.
what success is it if a white boy in a western society
can’t leave the nest and establish a taxable one to suit power?
where’s the power then, in the stateless individual?
where is your power to my ******* of being given wife and house
not given? where?!
if i can’t be the individuated pawn power broker you can’t be in power... idiots!
you have to give me the ******* i “desire” to be in power, if you can’t,
you’re not in power! ave augustus ave ego!
try contort the square into a triangle by contorting **** into f*ck.... ah ****
you already did... where’s the spanks’ worth of bullseye?!
you germans have no decency in human affairs
than you have to inspect **** movies varied
by wildebeest stampedes
from guernsey into gibraltar in gifs, do you?
well i did **** off a palm tree and got a coconut for an oasis’ worth of thirst.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
“I'm in love with you," he said quietly.
"Augustus," I said.
"I am," he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you.”
j.g. & m.g.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
My cheap thrills
may be different than your cheap thrills
My cheap thrills are looking into someone’s eyes and trying to read into their soul
Into their very existence
But eyes aren’t really windows to anything
Are they?
They are but closed doors;
Trap doors, luring you in
And showing you what you want to see
For it’s not with my eyes but the brain that I see !
But when I see him
_I see him_
I see him for all his beauty and kindness
He’s my blue eyed boy;
See the pun I’m making here
He actually has blue eyes
Ha ha ha
I know
I know
But he’d laugh at that !
And that’s what makes him so perfect;
Perfect to my imperfect eyes
That are merely simply tools
Trapped in the maps of projections that my brain casts over him
My cheap thrills aren’t cheap,
They require me to buy bandages
In bulk
Every time I see him kiss someone that isn’t me, I swear I know what it feels like to be the hulk!
Yes I know,
Augustus waters said
That “You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do have some say in who hurts you.”
And if my heart were to look like a ball of elastic bands except covered in band aids
I’d rather have it be this way for you : )
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 1:29 PM UTC