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Nostrovia! Poetry and Gatsby's Abandoned Children got together and had a child, and that is Nano Nostrovia! Poetry, this blog.

Posts Tagged: sad

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jeremiahwaltonpoetry:

I have strong enough jaws.
I can chew.

I know we’re made for each other. I’ve unEarthed faith

Depression is a crumpled piece of paper
origami smiles unfold real.

Communication is a highway
we’re constructing
lane by lane.

Howl for Howl
and you’ll find me under the sheets
howling

my fingers
a moving castle

manipulating paper
and pixels

to produce poetry
& the oddest love notes.

Depression is a crumpled piece of paper,

origami smiles unfold real

Source: jeremiahwaltonpoetry

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Drunk staggers of marriage

bath

Bleak
by Michele Seminara

First
you’ll retreat
behind the firewall
of anger

Then
I’ll slip into
self-pity’s
warm bath

And together
we’ll stagger towards
death do us part.

(First published in PASH CAPSULE 2013)

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The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: sonder

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate…

Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows

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dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head—a crisp analysis, a cathartic dialogue, a devastating comeback—which serves as a kind of psychological batting cage where you can connect more deeply with people than in the small ball of everyday life, which is a frustratingly cautious game of change-up pitches, sacrifice bunts, and intentional walks.

Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows

xxStill A Storyxx: Funeral Blues (Song IX / from Two Songs for Hedli Anderson)

xxmeisxx:

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the…

Source: xxmeisxx