Least Read Poems About Reading
#reading
a quick look at the bloke
read somewhere that alexander
pope was one of the most quoted in the
book of most quoted quotations;
but hardly anyone today can be arsed
to read his poems, and yet everybody today
loves a bloody good quote
pope was one of the most quoted in the
book of most quoted quotations;
but hardly anyone today can be arsed
to read his poems, and yet everybody today
loves a bloody good quote
#historical
#reading
49 reads
3 Comments
Drag Thoughts
Drag thoughts
Thoughts drag
Drag story time
Reading books
Drag thoughtful
Pleasure in human flesh
Thoughtful drag
Lifts up my spirits
Just want to exist
In this hateful place
Not putting upon
What makes me be alive
Thoughts in drag
Reasoned and respectful
Why can’t they be one of us
When they give so much love
Not asking for anything special
Just to be realized as human
And not a freak of nature
The only thing they groom
Is...
Thoughts drag
Drag story time
Reading books
Drag thoughtful
Pleasure in human flesh
Thoughtful drag
Lifts up my spirits
Just want to exist
In this hateful place
Not putting upon
What makes me be alive
Thoughts in drag
Reasoned and respectful
Why can’t they be one of us
When they give so much love
Not asking for anything special
Just to be realized as human
And not a freak of nature
The only thing they groom
Is...
#identity
#LGBT
#love
#misunderstood
#reading
54 reads
2 Comments
Almost Sylvia Plath
To endure and not spill at all.
I abandoned myself like a patchwork.
And I peel the epidermis from me like pomegranate seeds.
I juggled once more.
A sort of wandering spectacle, my exit
A captive without parchment,
detain the scarf.
The persona, the jointed hollows, the array of molars?
Soon, on strike the steak
And I, a lady, a superior lady.
This is the ceramic femur.
What a billion embellishments.
They flay my palms and soles—
These were my fingers
My elbows, no, my elbows ache.
Yet...
I abandoned myself like a patchwork.
And I peel the epidermis from me like pomegranate seeds.
I juggled once more.
A sort of wandering spectacle, my exit
A captive without parchment,
detain the scarf.
The persona, the jointed hollows, the array of molars?
Soon, on strike the steak
And I, a lady, a superior lady.
This is the ceramic femur.
What a billion embellishments.
They flay my palms and soles—
These were my fingers
My elbows, no, my elbows ache.
Yet...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MyInspiration
#PowerOfWords
#reading
#WritingPoetry
59 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems About Reading
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