Get Your Poems on Button Poetry!

buttonpoetry:

Only SIX MORE DAYS to submit your poems to Button Poetry’s annual chapbook contest! Winner receives a $500 cash prize, 50 free copies, and roundtrip travel to Minnesota for a book release party, filmed by Button. Note: ALL FINALISTS FROM THE CONTEST will be invited to perform and be filmed at a Button show. Don’t miss out, and make sure to like and reblog to spread the word!

Are you a writing blog that posts ORIGINAL WORK or REBLOGS it?

coeur-ephemere:

7-weeks:

verrloren:

PLEASE reblog or like this because I’d like to follow you.

I run a blog called verrloren-reblogs where I reblog (mostly) original work. It’s growing rather fast and I’d love to find writers to reblog and queue because class starts again in two weeks.

Thank you in advance!

HELP VERRLOREN FOLLOW VERRLOREN LOVE VERRLOREN YES DO THE THING ALL OF YOU 

I AM HELPING VERRLOREN

emanate.

dove care

there’s an ad on tv advertising soap
and i pretend i don’t see how flaky cracks spread across smooth surfaces
through the smallest of touches

what a pretty lie,
to be white and soft and beautiful in your hands

what a pretty lie i am

"Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows."

Zelda Fitzgerald (via esseekay)

to find glory in pane

can you imagine what it would be like to kick back,
fling your fist in defiance in a state of
re-lax-a-tion,
crumble the earth in your fingertips because it is a dream more vivid than god’s own—

this is semi-permenance:
tall buildings pained,
glass houses paned with heavy windows that reach to heaven only to be shattered by angels who fear their own reflections and see the devil instead like a stain,
pained—

oh, i wish i was immortal
but those who become dust and sand reflect celestial bodies

so i do not need to be.

push me into space and i will leave you too

i am saturnine,
heavy eyes and somber—
perhaps i exaggerate

but at least i do not pretend
to be fifty leagues deeper in space
when i am losing air along with flight-mates
to my own misdeeds

see, when you are haunted by your own misgivings
i begin to wonder if you’ve forgotten the ground beneath your feet

and if we could walk on the moon
would you push me off too?

conversations with the walls.

giant’s tomb

i found gravity in the cracks of a man
a giant who lay in a tomb so vast we called him an island
and travelled eleven straight hours with an empty sail
to bathe in his quiet waters

i stood upon his shoulders
in reverence, my toes curled towards holy ground
for i had never met a god so lonely as he who felt my emptiness and called it his

and when i say i found gravity in the cracks
i mean i found a grave
and a deep quiet

and it was my own.

"i can’t even afford your sympathy"

how life goes - a six word story

chieon:

Lover’s Spit | Broken Social Scene 

this song is perfect for a scene in my current novel ah