What Is A Poet If Not Writing
what is a poet if not writing
what if not dead then
my hands ache when I grip a pen
but I refuse to let go
if there is pain there's something to cling to
then there is something to write about
if my hands break from the strain so be it
I will use them until I can't use them further
so may the ache never stop
so may the poets never die
so may the fire burn
so may I still try
• old bandages - zero (me)
More Posts from Zeropoems
on another night I have to spend without you
the brightest one of them all, with hope in the air
even with my friends around, I promise you
to use the knowledge given to me by past lovers
and once the sky lights up with fireworks again
I shall call you and tell you all my love, as
the first thing in the new year should mean
the whole world, and nothing does, like you do
• Mel, my light - zero (me)
"til death do us part"
the statement upsets me dearly
for it assumes there is no love after death
why would I stop loving you so early
my feelings won't stop right with my breath
so if there is anything after this form, not long enough nearly
my sweet oblivion, let me take you to the altar
first time possibly, hopefully the second time
and I will promise you to hold your hand and never falter
for loving you only on this earth would be a crime
- zero (me)
the universe is screaming in my face
I stand under a clear sky and beg
beg it to let me feel at home
I get awoken at night to look to the sky
and see constellations I cannot read
the universe is screaming in my face
but numbers and stars aren't my language
and I was taught there's only one god
- zero (me)
(I've been slacking in posting poems because I'm working on a project that needs me to write poems in my native language, and those don't do well on Tumblr. not that anyone missed them)
I'm sitting at a bus stop almost alone and I haven't been this calm in months
The same bus passed three times already but it's not what I'm looking for
And this should be it, this should be reason enough to write
but it's not
For I've been tired to my core and all I've wanted
Is to be held by the one adult person I let myself be known
For I need something bigger than my name. For I need someone who knows better than I do
But it's all futile and I can't bring myself to ask her for kindness
But it's all without point and I can't write anymore
"Nomen Omen, just like Moliére" - Zero (me)
there's no gratitude in me
I am forever ungrateful
I am the rot that's spoiling this home
yet I am the only one who tries to run away
- zero (me)