Sapphic Poetry - Blog Posts

This was supposed to be a French poetry poll. I'll make one, I promise, but I was distracted by the ladies (I think I'll make at least a Amy Lowell's poll and a Renee Vivien one too later, also under my 'sapphic poetry' tag)

They may not be the ones you would have picked yourself, they're some personal favorites.

Feel free to share yours, though !

Anne Hathaway

XVI (Twenty-one love poems)

Fireworks

One Art

Lighthouse Keeping

The Love of Judas

Wild Geese

For the Goddess Too Well Known

Blest as the Immortal Gods

What are apples and toffee

and irdescent bubbles

and waves of grass and wind dances on fields

and neon lights and mischievous strangers

and cookies from acquaintances

and unbroken water surfaces and fireworks

and daisies

to her.

She asked me if I miss her while she's on sick leave from school.

What do you want me to answer? I wrote a poem about you on the train heading home from your place after we binge-watched Netflix together. I check Whatsapp way too often, heart chipped a little more everytime you didn't reply just to completly heal up once you do. I miss seeing you in my peripheral vision when I look at the board. I miss sitting beside you in silence during break while you draw, eating my sandwich. I miss looking up and seeing you infront of my desk. Free periods hurt, cause I've never eaten the entire orange alone. I've always shared quarters with you.

Yeah I miss you. We're in high school, and my love is appropriately rediculous.

insatiable hunger.

yearning yearning yearning, i write more of these little poem things than i do actual fan-fiction ‘m sorry </3 i hope you enjoy this too, though!!

—————————

i see her face. in the ever fast movement the spinning world around me makes, i always catch her face — she’s driven me mad.

wether it be her or not, i’m hungry, and the more i starve the more insatiable i am bound to get. i need to feel the warmth of her flesh beneath my own, purposeful fingers holding, kneading, gripping her in place right next to me.

right on to me.

right, being one with me. yeah, thats right..

i am hungry in a way no plate of food can fix, nothing can take this empty feeling away from me, someone can only fill it.

and she looks so pretty, my body wants her to be the one to fill it. my mind is sick and elsewhere, twisting every other face on the street to have the same curve of her lips, the sharpness of her eyes missing the gleam they get at the sight of me. oh how she loves me.

in a moment of such depravity the roles have no names attached and the bodily abilities are only for each others hands to touch. i wanted her to hold me by my hair, and i find myself gripping the back of her neck. i wanted her to greedily steal sounds from my lips to fill hers with, and i find myself devouring her every breath whole. i didn’t want her to do things to me anymore, i wanted her.

SOMEONE COOKED HERE

Oh god, why did I ever think I was going to end up with a man? Women have everything that men don't. Understanding, a gentle hand, the softness of their lips and their hearts. There is nothing quite like laughing with a girl like you are best friends, thinking of her as if you have been married for decades, holding her like your favorite childhood stuffed animal, and kissing her like you could sustain yourself for the rest of your life simply on the sweetness of your mixed breath. Fingers in her hair, her head on your chest, love in both of your eyes that only the other will ever see. Make her a bracelet, find her a rock, gift her her favorite snack. Freedom in your airy laughter. Certainty in the matching beats of your hearts. You know everything about each other and remember every little detail; you are in love and unwaningly so.

butterflies

there is something so nice

about having a new crush

someone new to look for

in the hallways on the way to class

someone i can tell my friends about

someone to text and to giggle over

i wish that the butterflies

could always be so uncomplicated

things you don't do for a girl you're "just friends" with:

walk her anywhere she wants to go, even when it's cold and wet outside and all you want is to be inside

be jealous when she brings up a boy you know she used to have a crush on (especially since you're pretty sure she's over him)

get butterflies whenever she moves her chair closer to yours

smile when you see her name on your phone (and refuse to remove the hearts you put on her contact when you had a crush on her, even though you're totally over it)

stay up way later than you meant to just to text her because as soon as you go to bed it's over

and you definitely, definitely dont want to kiss her. not the girl you're just friends with. not the girl you say you're over

not happening

i'm not going to let myself

have a new crush

not this soon

not on her

i'm not going to let myself

like a girl so painfully straight

and break my streak

of not liking girls who could never

like me

but what happens

when i catch myself thinking of her

or looking for her

or lighting up, briefly,

at her name on my phone

when she's creeping up on me

like the first sign of spring

six more weeks of winter

i can't go any more days without her

but i promised

no more girls

not right now

definitely not her

shut up, heart

#2

as i pass through the second circle,

i wonder ‘is this inferno able to hold all us sinners?’

‘will it ever be enough for the long lines of fools,

of the liars and the traitors?’

brimstone and basalt beneath my feet and in my nose; not an unfamiliar feeling

as i watch the souls devour each other

in reckless fury, passion

on the backdrop of a hurricane of blue fire, carbon on hydrogen

crashing bodies on bodies,

with the echo of the endless storm in my mind,

i feel burning nostalgia in my hands,

in my mouth

for our earthly time together, burning coldly

and slowly in the remnants of my mind,

already half eaten, empty

by Ugolino, hiding her half-eaten fingers from my blind eyes

we are all fools, i more than most

for willingly walking into a sulfuric hell,

and for letting myself get eaten, like roadkill

by a devil who could never be satisfied.

as i crawl my way down to the bottom,

the last circle, lust to treachery

to the icy depths of this menagerie of our creation,

i know that if there isn’t enough room for us

so i will make room

as i forced my stomach to give space in its tiny insides

for your ravenous hunger, too much for two.

i will make room in the bottom for us

to make sure the devil devours us both,

judas, brutus; they can watch

as He chooses which of us will be the greatest feast.

they will vote, of course, with their half eaten hands and minds, on whom will be ripped apart first

and be sure, my dear

they have not seen our insides, thawing and clawing

they can jest, but never know the extent

of the crime committed,

we may be frozen in the lake together, but

there is not enough space in this devils mouth for the both of us

your cold blood will serve as a better appetizer,

than mine, i will stand and watch

endlessly burning, endlessly waiting

for starvation to take its toll

on my soul,

ripped from my body.

-L

#1

temptation hangs on the branch

sin dripping off the oak

a sweet smell, a sweet caress,

the forbidden fruit,

damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

wine red, with a honeyed core

my mouth aches for the sweet release

of the first bite, saccharine and dangerous

forbidden, but inviting to our

innocent soul.

eat with me, my love

come and taste the sin

of which He has forbade—

how could He? when the taste is so sweet,

when the fruit sits on the branches so beautifully,

waiting to be plucked?

take the honeyed temptation, sweetheart,

and i’ll let you have the first taste,

of our gentle sin, ripe and pleasing,

a tender transgression—

let the flavor sit in your mouth, love,

and let me savour it with you

together we sin, together we rise

higher than the heavens

where virtues could never take us;

they would never taste this right

- L

Transistince

Transistence is the resistence

Against the resistence to be trans

From outside and in my head

"Where the psychological

Becomes social"

As an old English professor used to say...

Are my layers just cake?

Vaccous calories of air and sugar?

Why do I yearn

To be a tasty pink cloud?

Dissappearing onto the horizon

Where a sunset masks the line between sky

And mountain

Psychological sky

And societal mountains

Buildings conceal the clouds

Light drowns out the stars

In total darkness

A Lesbian never born

So much for my love, i was cut off into

He cant be the she he wants to be

Estrogen gave him breasts, but not her

Chests full of milk and love soft soft All he wanted was to forget he was ever

Never a woman. He cries because he cant

Tell you all his male secrets. He loves

Every wave of femininity, that idea of

Sapphic love is fleeting sand he

Causes himself so much pain, he is so

Angry at what he was born to be, his

P**** envies the idea of being she, but

Eventually she might come through