"xxxviii" poems
XXXVIII
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love’s own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said, ‘My love, my own.’
2.9k
Los suspiros son aire y van al aire.
Las lágrimas son agua y van al mar.
Dime, mujer, cuando el amor se olvida,
¿sabes tú adónde va?
2k
dear basil,
happy easter :))
just one more year
dealing with your parent's
religious ********
don't get too mad
it's like that hypnosis said
"if it is anything negative
you will physically and emotionally feel nothing
it will be like watching a movie
and if it is effecting you in this life
you will be able to see it, and let it go"
of course, he was talking about
past life regression
but this is really just a past life waiting to happen
love,
basil
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 2:46 PM UTC
I hope I do not live to see the day
When I could be genuinely
Intensely happy
*(Without your approval,
Without your hands ticking my clock,
Without you)*
And bump into your sad, empty eyes
Hands waiting for the warmth
Talk to you again
Like we used to
You know I'll be back
Running, breathless
With all your memories in my hand
Late at night I think about this
But then,
I don't want you back
Do not come back.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
This twisted existence is beginning to push my limits.
I've had enough of life I only strive to see it finished.
No matter how I try the timeline won't diminish;
I guess I'm meant to stick around for more than just a minute.
It sickens me to watch as old friends depart the earth,
As I'm left to sit and ponder on life and what it's worth.
It's hard to carry onward with this never ending search,
while other men just wander in apparent ceaseless mirth.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Tu casa suena como un tren a mediodía,
zumban las avispas, cantan las cacerolas,
la cascada enumera los hechos del rocío,
tu risa desarrolla su trino de palmera.
La luz azul del muro conversa con la piedra,
llega como un pastor silbando un telegrama
y entre las dos higueras de voz verde
Homero sube con zapatos sigilosos.
Sólo aquí la ciudad no tiene voz ni llanto,
ni sin fin, ni sonatas, ni labios, ni bocina
sino un discurso de cascada y de leones,
y tú que subes, cantas, corres, caminas, bajas,
plantas, coses, cocinas, clavas, escribes, vuelves,
o te has ido y se sabe que comenzó el invierno.
709
No crees que vive la muerte
dentro del sol de una cereza?
No puede matarte también
un beso de la primavera?
Crees que el luto te adelanta
la bandera de tu destino?
Y encuentras en la calavera
tu estirpe a hueso condenada?
592
When the sun sets, you will ask me if it's beautiful, for your eyes see less saturated colours, and I did swear to myself that I would forever describe the incessant hues and shades to you with love, so long there is sun.
The features on your visage and the butterflies you always leave flying in my belly prepossess me more than colours do, for I could see you whole in black and white then my eyes would still be in awe, my heart would flutter more.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
XXXVI.
because you really don't want to hurt them you just still cant believe that anyone cares enough to be hurt when you hurt yourself
XXXVII.
because every new year you say you'll get better and you don't you still don't know if you should be independent of arbitrary dates that you trust so much even if they've never helped you
XXXIII.
because it hurts so much either way
XXXIV.
you'll just have to decide which you prefer
XXXV.
because you really gotta put more faith in rough drafts
XXXVI.
because you always want everything to be perfect but you know by now it won't be
XXXVII.
because these thoughts don't even really scare you anymore or maybe you're used to being afraid, but you know you'll stay, even if this place is unchanging
XXXVIII.
because that's only half the battle sometimes,
this times its not even that
XXXIX.
because you've never been this close to both life and death at the same time
XL.
because you're not afraid anymore to make rash decision you think you should fear what might happen because of that
XLI.
because, for now, the solution- the next step, is changing everything
XLII.
because until now changing has only meant covering up better
XLIII.
because maybe you can get better on your own, and maybe you can't
XLIV.
but the point is if you reach out you will never know if you could have done this independently, but if you cant do it on your own and you still try,
XLV.
because I know,
it's okay to reach out for help but,
is it okay to hold on?
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Waiting to heal.
Caught a glimpse...
Sentenced to this cell.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
Does anything rhyme with "antidisestablishmentarianism"?
"I didn't think so. Oh well, on to the next idea!"
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
¿Dices que nada se crea?
Alfarero, a tus cacharros.
Haz tu copa y no te importe
si no puedes hacer barro.
301
cómo conservo este cariño
de vos a vos/ amora mía/
ardor que sube del pasado
como tu pura voz/cielito
que no cielás la soledad
como pedazo de vos/fuego
en que ardo como porvenir
de tu hermosura abierta como
llama de vos o claridad
del arbolito que crecía
en tu jardín o gloria de
vos/dando olor a suavidad
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