L. V., I Found This Poem In Its Attempt To Mimic Maelstroms

L. V., i found this poem in its attempt to mimic maelstroms

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1 year ago

In the paintings, you are the onlooker. The passerby. The blurred figure in the corner that’s almost concealed beneath the shadow cast by the ornate gold frame. Centuries later, art students pore over this shadowy figure, trying to give meaning to it. Like what does this represent to the painter? What symbolism does this shred of darkness holds? Of course they do this right after analysing the colours and the light. They do this after they have gotten bored and tired of analysing the hands of the main figure around which the landscape was created. Because none of this vibrant world would have been created without the muse. But there will come a time to look at the shadows, and wonder why they’re there. Why are you here?
- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem left forgotten by a stranger at the local café

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literaryvein

1 year ago

Detail of "Sleeping" by John Everett Millais (British, 1829-1896)

L. V., I Found This Poem When A Stranger Shook My Hand

Detail of "Sleeping Young Woman in Park" by Konstantin Somov (Russian, 1869-1939)

Details of "Sleeping Figure" by Achille Beltrame (Italian, 1871-1945)

Detail of "Titania Sleeps" by Frank Cadogan Cowper (English, 1877-1958)

Detail of "Gitane Endormie" by Robert Falk (Russian, 1886-1958)

Detail of "The Sleeper" by Tamara de Lempicka (Polish, 1898-1980)

Detail of "Annabel Sleeping" by Lucian Freud (British, 1922-2011)

L. V., i found this poem when a stranger shook my hand

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literaryvein

9 months ago

Detail of "Die Suche" ("The search")
Hanno Karlhuber, 1996

There's a dream in which we meet at the edge of a cliff
right before you and I could take the leap

-L. V.

so we made a pact to see the world together
until the money runs out and we'll come back here,

-L. V.

rewrite our suicide notes and tear them up, feed them to the wind.
But somewhere between two mountains, I think—unfortunately,

-L. V.

we fell in love. It was a Wednesday and we reminded
each other that the world taught us

-L. V.

not to break promises
so on the drive back, we broke each other instead.

-L. V.

L. V., i found this poem as it blurred past us on a foreign road

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literaryvein

10 months ago

a man asked me out
i told him to meet me
on my deathbed

- L. V.

L. V., an almost haiku [i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 2)]

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literaryvein

10 months ago

Person 1: "If only love bloomed on trees"

Person 2: "But we still have apples, don't we?"

Person 1: "Yes, but the seeds are poisonous."

Person 2: But isn't love poisonous too?

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love writeblr writers on tumblr poetry poets on tumblr anonymous spilled ink literaryvein okay am i really going to be person 2 here anon? when i wrote this i sort of was person 1-

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literaryvein

9 months ago

Detail of "Evening Landscape with Rising Moon" by Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890)

Strawberry Moon

On TV, a boy cries over the blood-soaked body of a 32-year-old woman.
The editors gave the footage a black and white filter
so that the only way we would be able to tell how deep the red goes
was by listening to the boy’s grief-stricken howl.

Someone changes the channel, complaining
that they shouldn’t be showing such awful things.
Children could be watching.

They don’t know that by seeing the gruesome realities of the world
do we experience life completely, which is why we should be watching.
To know what’s happening would be the first step to being able to help.
This is what we should be teaching our children;
we shouldn’t be teaching them fear.

Because imagine being that woman—to have people see your body
sprawled out on the scorching hot asphalt.
To have them hear the dreadful things that had been done to you.
It makes them sick to the stomach.
And so they switch to a different channel.
Because they can.
Because your body in a strange position makes them sick to the stomach.

Imagine if the story makes you sick to the stomach.
Imagine if you were part of the story. If you were the boy, howling.
Imagine if you were her mother. Or her child. Her friend.
Imagine if it was you lying there on the ground.
Someone changes the channel.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem staring back at me from across a busy road

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literaryvein

6 months ago

I beg God to postpone the apocalypse until Monday
because I need to see you tomorrow.
I need to see you in your dark green sweater
and your favourite pair of sneakers,
the one with the grass stains you swear
wouldn’t come off.
- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem when god wasn't looking

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literaryvein

8 months ago

Detail of "Woman Serving Fruit" by Jules-Alexandre Grun (French, 1868-1938)

L. V., i found this poem dripping down my forearm after taking a bite of a freshly-plucked summer fruit

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literaryvein

5 months ago

your blog is insanely underrated. everything you create is a masterpiece ! sending you all the love i’ve got <33

I WILL be taking all the love ty

Coming from one of the best people on here, this means a lot <33333

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literaryvein

9 months ago

Sleeping Woman (Detail)
by: Oskar Kokoschka, 1917

you will become awfully tired of weeping, and so unfortunately,

L. V., i found this poem in its attempt to conquer the skies

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