the sea is meant to be drunk up in a goblet: one made of broken shards of memory, of love roughened by years of sharp words. I have not mended my pieces yet.
I have yet to take a sip of the sea, but no: I ache to forget. I ache to turn and run and run up the steepest mountains to hide from what savage truths the tides will speak into my ear.
(I will tell you what the sea tastes of: of salt that stings on forgotten wounds, of sadness and other shunned things.)
Last edited by PrincessInk on Fri Apr 03, 2020 11:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I love your theme of the sea tied in with sadness, a mourning almost actually. This is a beautiful poem and I look forward to reading what you have in store for the rest of the month. Aside from the shout-out I made, I really love the first 3 lines too. There's something about that imagery of drinking up the sea in the goblet that's just amazing.
Ink your first poem is so strong and the imagery is really gorgeous. I like the little sound devices and repetition you're using in there too, it has great sound and flow. Can't wait to read more of your poems this April!
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
@Lavvie: thank you so so much for the shout-out <3 you're so kind <3 I was definitely thinking about sadness/mourning when I wrote it
@alliyah: thank you!! I love alliteration so haha I wanted to incorporate it xD
ii. the sky is so heavy today
weeks ago, the streets were crowded with people shouldering words. mementos. snapshots of a life they thought they knew. we all strain to glimpse the shimmer of a dawn where the sun will stay with us.
today, I tiptoed out in the silent uncertainty of early morning. the sky was crowning and I thought of cradling the newborn sun in my hands. but who am I to be so arrogant? I am no Atlas, and only fools believe they could hold up the world.
(and only fools will hope for a day when we can see stars at noon.)
Last edited by PrincessInk on Fri Apr 03, 2020 11:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
the hummingbirds and bees always visit us in the summer. when they come, we’d listen, bare feet planted on sun-warmed ground, our ears like butterfly nets.
(nevermind Spanish homework or barbecues)
we were kids driven mad with wanderlust, crazed with the longing to learn boredom and contentment. we yearned to dig deep and cast off the roars of cars gasping exhaust. the constantly blaring music. the sounds of city life polluting our dreams.
we thought we could capture their language in our journals. instead we'd hear the honking of taxis, we’d close our eyes and imagine them streaming through times square.
Thank you @Arcticus - means so much coming from you!
iv.
(If you can't read the font )
Spoiler! :
I.
I was flipping through my books, knee-deep in recollections of you. Of us. I remember the last time we spoke for real— we had been crouched around a fire: the cold nipping our backs, marshmallows wobbling like bellies full of laughter. I remember we forgot how we all aged a year, how we were supposed to take down the calendars and write down goals like princes satisfying greedy kings.
(Tell me, do you still go?)
II.
I remember the way we ran screeching, threw pillows at each other till our mothers dragged us out, calling us scoundrels equal to monkeys.
(Tell me, do you remember how to empty your chest laughing?)
III.
We were once Pangaea, remember, and now we’re continents. I’ve conquered so much myself, without you (it feels strange) and mended my fissures together when I cracked. I am no longer the doe-eyed girl who locked herself away and hid the key.
So let me tell you this: I think I have muddled how I feel you. I always keep a thought of you in my pocket, trace letters to you in my sleep. Your laugh constantly echoes over my shoulder and yet I am too afraid to look.
(You see, for we do not have to die to leave ghosts in our wake.)
Your first poem is still my favorite so far, but I think your fourth one is a pretty close second! I think my favorite lines were "We were once Pangaea, remember, and now we're continents" and "You see, for we do not have to die to leave ghosts in our wake". I can relate to these lines when I think about some of my friends who I used to be super close to but we've since drifted apart. Keep up the great work!
-- "And I love the thought of being with you, or maybe it's the thought of not being so alone." ♡
I’ve been loving your poems so far, Ink! Your latest poem is beautiful, and I can definitely feel the nostalgia and memories illustrated in it. All of your poems have such distinct imagery and powerful messages! <3
also guys I would like to know if you think the second stanza is necessary because I'm side-eyeing it right now
vi. teach me how to tell time
Teach me how to tell time— one second, and then a minute. Show me how to reset my clock (for it tocks in tune to the universe: the deep scarred hollows of my ribcage)
I ache to begin anew, like the sun every dawn. I ache to throw the scraps of my crumpled life into the basket. I ache to adjust my wristwatch whenever I flee into spring.
Teach me how to tell time— correctly, please; for my heart measures lifespans out like old clocks and lost children (and do you know what holds them together? They freeze and run like prey afraid of the shadows.)
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