Poetry And Quotes - Tumblr Posts
@sunkissed-summerdaze
he is the gentle and calm waters in the warmest of seas
he is the sunlight that beams through the waves
and glistens atop the surface
he is the rays of light cast across the sky
in a warm july sunrise
he is the clouds on a lazy sunday afternoon
he is my sun, moon, and stars
he is
he is
he is
he is mine
and lord knows how completely
i am his
Art & The Heart
Some people don't love deeply because they do not live deeply. If you are not fully present in your own life, you are never truly present in the lives of others.
All depth and emotional fulfillment is only available when we are open, but that requires courage and honesty in the face of the real.
Many people try to avoid feeling until they become numb and lose themselves in banal distractions. Capitalism is built on the premise that the hole in each human heart can be filled with stuff, but sitting with the emptiness is all that heals the wound.
I try to face the darkness in myself and the world with an open heart and an honest mind, but some days that's a lot of work. I am only human after all.
On those days, when I am closed and full of denial, I cannot be creatively successful. But, when I remember to be genuine and let myself feel what I have been running from, then I am free to create beautiful things. And even if those things are sad, they are beautiful because they are authentic.
All good art arises from emotional honesty in the present moment.
© JM Tiffany 2024
take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
meet me in november. meet me when the leaves fall, and the autumn has it's kingdom of shades, of soft golden and dark brown. meet me when the rain falls, water drops in the windows, with a good book and some kind of tea. long walks, wet soil, smell of rain, escaping of the world, running in solitude, smiling at the sky. meet me in november, when i get lost in ink and paper, and trees with yellow leaves. meet me in november, when i walk alone, in sweaters and boots, meet me in november, with the feeling of the autumn. of silent melancholy, of quiet peace and calmness, with poems in the air.
.
it's that time of the year, when you think in the next 12 months you're going to conquer all the mountains in the world.
── Tom Stoppard, 1996
[text ID: We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. ]
“You love him despite the burden of Atlas resting on his shoulders, and he loves you despite the death still clinging to your lips, and the blood drying at it’s corners. What a pair you make.”
— the greatest lovers in hell // L.H.Z
the insanity of never knowing without absolute certainty that there is a divinity and yet longing it to be true so wholeheartedly. the cursing and the begging to not be forgotten. the suffering and the righteous hatred. the wanting that it was not all for nothing. the terror of being right. the aching loneliness of being yourself because there is no one quite like you and so that means there will be no one who quite understands.
the endless cycle of the snake eating its own tail.
you wish to have children so that they may stay by your side when you are old, so that they may bury you. but i? i don't want them to see me when i lay dying or dead. they are not allowed to.
i want to forever live on in their memory as the image of when they last saw me.
you want them to speak of your best qualities when you are gone? i want them to remember my worsts so they will never repeat them.
to me it is not so much about being remembered but about being a lesson. a cautionary tale. i will live for them, make the mistakes so they do not, i will love them. why? because that is what it means to love; to give those after a brighter, easier future.