Poetryisnotdead - Blog Posts

#poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #feelings #myheartisahotel #heart #helpless #life #melancholy

Writer's block sucks. Agree? #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #writersblock #inspiration #blues #poetrycommunity

*sigh longer* #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #staygold #beloved #relationship #love

*sigh* #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #tired #trying #selflove #dreams

#poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #ramblings #cantsleep #midnightmadness #latenight

Isn't it interesting how, depending on who is the storyteller, each story can have multiple meanings and point of view even though they are exactly the same story? Even these storytellers may view each other as the ignorant ones. #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #ramblings #people #manipulated #memories #life

Lover #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #love #musings #ramblings #relationship

Something that came across my mind during my daily daydream #poetry #poem #poet #prose #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #love #beauty #thoughts #philosophy

Still not very good at love poem... #poetry #poem #poet #prose #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #love #life #time

Hang in there, bud! :( #poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #persevere #life #struggle #happiness

Ah well... #poem #poetry #poet #creative #writing #write #poetryisnotdead #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #woman #youth #life #death #birth

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran has become my personal "bible". It's a treasure trove full of wisdom and beautiful verses! This particular verse is my favorite; it's about how we should still give each other spaces in a relationship for it to thrive and long-lasting. #prose #poem #prosepoetry #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #kahlilgibran #theprophet #wisdom #life #love #marriage #happiness #literature #classic #writers

There's no such thing as too much of Emily Dickinson's poems! #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poet #poetryisnotdead #emilydickinson #classical #success #life #hope #successful #thinking #wish

I was reading Pablo Neruda's Book of Questions at the library the other day, and all I can say is that the whole book made me #shook. Such ingenious observations of him! #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #pabloneruda #bookofquestions #postmodern #life #showerthoughts #question #musings #daydreaming

A short poem inspired (infires?) by the song "First Love" by @bts.bighitofficial SUGA from their latest album WINGS (http://ow.ly/7DBK306XIqc). One of the best album I ever bought! #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #BTS #suga #ARMY #wings #firstlove #love #dream #joy #melancholy #music #write

I probably love Emily D too much but I've #noregrets #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #emilydickinson #classic #literature #americanpoet #selflove #hope #dream #beautiful #wordporn #joy

Well, most of the time. No, all the time. 😥 #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #lazy #daydreaming #imagination #write #dream

When you are old by W.B Yeats. Too much feels but it's just beautiful. #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #wbyeats #classic #literature #melancholy #beautiful #wordporn #nostalgic

Truly. #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #haters #hatersgonnahate #loveyourself #originalpoem #instapoem #instapoetry #aintnobodygottimeforthat

Let's accelerate even if we're about to crash #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #dylanthomas #dreams #hope #youth #literature #classic

Famous poem by none other than Robert Frost. So much meaning packed into just 8 lines. #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #instapoem #instapoetry #robertfrost #nothinggoldcanstay #classicalpoetry #classic #beauty #love #hope #art

“I write slowly… with depth…”

Whispers Between Pages By Astrum

I have always trusted the quiet of untold stories, the soft ache that lingers between what is written and what is merely felt.

I do not chase endings — I unfold them, slowly, like paper worn thin by longing and hands that know the weight of memory.

Somewhere between ink and skin, I found my truest voice — not to speak louder, but to listen deeper to the words that choose to find me first.

I think we’re all broken, 

you whisper to the dark shimmering water lapping against the hull. 

I can see our reflections—

You, halved in white and 

Me, fading to black like an old film reel. 

Broken how? 

I don’t really need you to answer, not really. We’re cursed,

I know and you know, too, so you just laugh. 

Even that sounds like shattering glass. 

What is it about stars and streetlights and silent European nights 

          that tear us open to the core?

Cursed, you whisper, 

And suddenly thousands of years worth of history and ghosts and 

          fiends are clamouring for release beneath 

The liquid obsidian rocking the boat. 

Cursed, I whisper, but remind me:

Aren’t curses simply blessings from below?

.

— Cruise on the Danube (y.c.)

You wanted a love story and this

isn’t 

it. 

You say you’re going through trials by fire 

but these are not the flames 

that birth phoenix

these are the flames that destroy forests so

Put it out.

He she they aren’t worth the 

Destruction 

of your soul;

Darling, 

You wanted a love story and listen to me. 

This

isn’t 

it. 

.

—Why do we mistake destruction for creation? (y.c.)

We make gods out of sinners and altars

Out of gutters. We bow, 

Heads down in silent reverence,

To fools who beat back the nonbelievers with

violent and wrath and the pious

Call it righteous.

The gutters birth no good saviours; these

streets 

Vanquish purity the way Heracles vanquished

the lion and Perseus vanquished the

serpent but they had gods on their side 

And we have only demons.

—modern sins equate salvation (y.c.)

Hey y’all!

I’m absolutely terrible at posting things regularly, so a massive thank you to everyone who’s following me and bearing with my non-existent planning skills. I’ll try to post one a month at least from now on, but no promises cuz uni is crazy like that.

I’ve gotten published in a few places since I last posted, and I’ll link them below! It’s super exciting, and I hope you enjoy the poems.

amaranthine

Indigo

the ghosts in my home still haunt me

(there are also poems in InkMovement’s Edmonton Youth Anthology, Vol I, but they only print in paper so I can’t put the link here)

Love and despair are drawn from the same well.

I cannot always tell which is the poison,

And which is the cure.

— y.c.

Chivalry isn’t just dead.

We beat it out of us with a stick

(society)

and carved it from our souls with a scalpel

(normalization)

and now

We don’t know any different.

— y.c.

These days, beauty is packaged and sold.

That box there is this weirdly specific hair

colour whose name

sounds like a desperate student’s last ditch

efforts to meet the word count

That shampoo is a scent that sounds like an

overenthusiastic writer’s sensory description

That t-shirt is designed to make you look slim

Mirrors are our enemies

Make-up our allies

and we gobble it up,

Burying our identities in

Consumer debt and social expectations.

— y.c.

Mother, I think I’m cursed

This air is turning to poison

This heart is falling apart

Mother, I think I’m blind

The path is dark and winding

No light shines on these parts

Mother, I think I’m dying

There’s nothing but numbness here

and a voice whispering, “We’re all mad here”

Mother, I don’t want you to save me

This darkness has begun to feel like home

and it truly has been so long since

I felt at home

— y.c.