#poem

The red washing down the bathtub can't change the color of the sea at all. ↗

#depression #poem #poetry #suicide #change

Love doesn't always mean rings and veils and walks down the aisle. Sometimes love means broken windows and broken hearts, and not being able to fix either. And sometimes love means telling you, there's no such thing as time in Heaven so don't rush to meet me. Stay a while, and pick, girl, the roses. ↗

— Jennifer Gooch Hummer

#love #poems #romance #death

I find no peace, and all my war is done, I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice; I fly above the wind yet can I not arise; And naught I have and all the world I seize on. That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison, And holdeth me not, yet can I scape nowise; Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise, And yet of death it giveth none occasion. Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain; I desire to perish, and yet I ask health; I love another, and thus I hate myself; I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain. Likewise displeaseth me both death and life And my delight is causer of this strife. ↗

— Thomas Wyatt

#poems #death

I thought I was growing wings— it was a cocoon. I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water. Eschatology is a word I learned as a child: the study of Last Things; facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of death, the dogs—rising from sleep and clamoring and howling, howling.... ("Seeing For a Moment") ↗

— Denise Levertov

#death

Most things may never happen: this one will. ↗

— Philip Larkin

#death #poem #death

This world- To what may I liken it? To autumn fields lit dimly in the dusk by lightning flashes. ↗

— Yu Minamoto

#death

And here face down beneath the sun And here upon earth's noonward height To feel the always coming on The always rising of the night ↗

— Archibald MacLeish

#death #night #poem #poet #poetry

I have a rendezvous with death... I will not fail that rendezvous ↗