May 2011
142 posts
greyhaime:
nothing I could ever say would be enough to describe the ever present need to be inside your smile-
misfit-words:
let’s pretend we are Romeo and Juliet At least for tonight.
April 2011
206 posts
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I’ll grant you a wish, because it’s what you desire. Adieu. Ciao. Goodbye.
~Elle LaMarca~
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No, you won’t think this haiku is about you. Truth? Everything is you.
~Elle LaMarca~
greyhaime:
I haven’t seen your face,my sweet dear friend,the soft textured dream waiting to be dreamed.
you hide behind thoughts and silence holding back the tide that threatens to let me do the one thing needed to see your face clearly…
seeking oblivion inside your smile-
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New Poetry Blog - Call for Submissions!
Hi friends!
Did you know that in addition to “Elle in Process” I have a second tumblr? It is also about writing, specifically poetry based. It is called, “Today’s Poem.” I feature one poem daily by well known to little known published poets. There’s something for everyone, I’d like to think.
I’m also excepting submissions for poems that others...
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I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.
– Audrey Hepburn
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Desire
You’re everything: space, time, the ever-after, yet I cannot hold you.
But, I want to. I’m caught up. Greediness drips from my lips.
(My first attempt at the Japanese form tanka. 5-7-5-7-7)
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It's national book week. The rules are: grab the...
elleinprocess:
daleys:
thesluttyprofessor:
“It’s a classic season two episode: Kirk, Chekov and Uhura are captured by disembodied brains who use them as gladiators-“
“Nothing, with Phase One, but the Alpha teams were only supposed to be a stopgap measure.”
“The thing that happened. With the lady.” (technically two sentences, but one thought so I guess that’s ok.)
E quella a me: Nessun...
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The Courtship of The Miller and The Wife of Bath
Wife of Bath: There is more junk in these your speeches than I detect tucked in your breeches.
The Miller: You're a keen woman to spy well my junk. It you I would lend but your odor's of skunk.
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Idle Time
I would do all, whatever and any things as long as doing them meant doing them with you. -Tyler Knott Gregson-
I feel this way about very, very few people, but a couple in my life actually do make the list!
You’re like my childhood home
A place I can’t go back to
A memory so cold like
The sad songs I sleep to.
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PolyesteRiot: A letter. →
polyesteriot:
I told you I was scared
and you said
“There are worse things than being alone.”
But I know all about your fear of inadequacy
Of turning into your father
And going out the way he did.
afraid of the inevitable.
Ever since that night
months ago
When we both had a little too…
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When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?
– Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters (via wwnorton)
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I’m gonna love you
so hard that you break, spilling
your guts at my feet.
-Elle LaMarca
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Love in the Asylum, by Dylan Thomas
A stranger has come To share my room in the house not right in the head, A girl mad as birds
Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume. Strait in the mazed bed She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds
Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room, At large as the dead, Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.
She has come possessed Who admits the...
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Nothing gold can stay: THE SECRET OF THE KISS →
wingspan:
Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy…
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Another heartbreak
another lesson learned
another sign
I shouldn’t open my heart
so I’ll go back
to building this wall around it
brick by painful brick
and change the locks
since you have the key
and never let anyone in
...
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry...
– Dead Poets Society
I cannot fathom
the burden of loving me.
Thank you, for your love.
– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
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Oops
thesilentclown:
When they first made love she was epic poetry he was a Haiku
I’m up too late, and starting to do silly things. Oh, silly things, I love you. Muah!
I’m going to curl up with Dante or Ted Hughes or both. Sounds kinky, doesn’t it? Oh, and I’m bringing my pencil.
Yes, yes, I’m a slut. A note writing, book slut.
Hearts.
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Fuck.
I think every time I use the word FUCK I lose a couple of followers.
Well, it’s a spring resolution of mine to stop apologizing for my use of the word FUCK.
I don’t use it all the time, but sometimes it is completely necessary.
I don’t mean to offend, but if you don’t happen to like the word FUCK and/or are offended when I use the word FUCK, well FUCK then, I guess this...
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invisiblink:
I just wanted to call you… to hear your voice
to say hello
I love you
goodbye
I don’t know.
Umm, this should be included in my autobiography.
Barretta: Writing is like sex, redux →
barretta:
Writing is like sex You do your thing And every time they say: Oh! How wonderful! And you will never know if it’s because You’re any good Or because they’d rather not tell you You’re nothing special
Writing is like sex Sometimes it seems like all there is, Is teenage girls Who don’t know…
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A Rant...
I’m writing haikus. I never write haikus. Before today I may have only ever written three haikus in my lifetime. But now, I cannot stop! I’ve written like twelve haikus today.
WTF?
Ok, that’s it: I love haikus. I love haikus? Really? REALLY! Oh, dear.
Followers (I love you!): Be prepared to read HAIKUS!
Hearts.
Your girl, Elle
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Horror is the result
of a fierce, jarring
reminder of our
own mortality.
– Edgar Allan Poe
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Never say, you’ll never leave.
‘Cause you’ll never know,...
– Rhett Miller, Fireflies
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A Secret...
Shhh…don’t tell anyone…but…
I’ve been writing a lot of and focusing on poetry lately, which is wonderful, sort of. Poetry is like a home coming for me. I started writing verse filled with imagery and metaphors before I even knew those terms existed. Poetry was my first true love. I’d write a bit of prose here and there, but throughout high school and college I...
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I’m not sure that you
are worth a single tear, or
moment of sadness.
-Elle LaMarca
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of...
– John Keats (via aurai)
If I could change this to Italian wine, it would sound just like heaven!