I am falling

I have fallen

I fell
into you

and you have surrounded me
with love and grace and beauty
and I would tear off
any piece of me you needed
to lay at your feet

I’m just looking for a way
for the words
to tell you
that you are everything
that there is nothing
but you

for
I am falling

I have fallen

I fell

Max Mundan, Falling/Fallen/Fell

© David Rutter 2014

(via maxmundan)

266 notes

michaellottner:

everyone is scared
of showing people
who they are

but for you i would
go to the end of
the universe and
say it’s not so far
.

1,184 notes

Tales of a sunken city
washed beneath the swell
above the earth is turning.
Slowly heaven turns to hell.

The streets are lined with skeletons
and the shops are all but closed
somewhere in stonework
sits a girl atop a throne.

Her people have all left her
and the stars are long since gone.
Somewhere in the darkness
she hears a distant song.

So with the morning tide
she swims toward the beach
hoping someone lives there
and would care to wet their feet.

But nothing walks the earth
no sign of passing tunes;
yet far away above her,
soars a mournful moon.

With the sadness he sees before him
he ponders for a time.
And with a twinkle in his eyes
so are born the tides.

Michel Lazzaro | The Tides (via elzaro)

23 notes

storms

michaellottner:

your eyes are the sky
when storms erupts
and gusts take flight
my gentle caress will
chase the clouds and
sing you into soft midnight
.

238 notes

Sour Grapes

instanceandthephrase:

Creation drives
The hardest bargain;
For it is difference
That gives us meaning
But love
That makes it
Lethal.

- J. Pigno

12 notes

Chitinous mandibles lovingly caress
the exposed temples of my head
I am so sorry that I didn’t
recognize him in this form
but he, too, is caught
in the net and when we are thrown
naked and gasping on some distant shore
of time, we will be brothers then
again

And in some other window
I am living and breathing you
and I am living and breathing you
and I am dying for you
again and again and again
cascading like a waterfall
through the endless permutations
of decisions and choices
that stitch us together
that stitch everything
together

I am a worm who thought
he was a butterfly and I am
a cocoon who thought he was a rock
and I am a smorgasbord
exploding with delicacies
and riches beyond measure
all your favorite food and drink
more than you could ever taste
so much abundance that you want
to scream from the illusion
of choice, and somewhere
deep down inside, I know
I am a smorgasbord

And in some other window
I am loving you forever
and loving you forever
and loving you forever
and then doing it again for
I am a hungry lion
with your scent in my nostrils
tracking you as you hide
playfully, from me, and I know
I am going to catch you but
I don’t know what I am going to do
when I do
catch you
will I kill you and eat you?
or bite your neck and fuck you?
or pull you to me and protect you?

and does it even matter?
aren’t they all
the same?

If we don’t do it
here
we will do it
there
in some other
window

Max Mundan, Some Other Window

© David Rutter 2014

(via maxmundan)

89 notes

somedaysigetitright:

kingofbastille:

The amount of questions Bastille asks in thier songs really stresses me out

are you gonna age with grace? do you like the person you’ve become? can you fill the silence? how am i gonna be an optimist? how am i gonna get myself home?

like idk dan you figure it out

(Source: transposers)

142,648 notes

buttonpoetry:

Mckendy Fils-Aime - “Whistling Vivaldi”

"Fear is still this country’s violin, and you are the scariest song in the show."

Performing for Manchester during prelims at the 2014 National Poetry Slam. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!

739 notes

a promise

michaellottner:

faithful meadows, stirring green breeze
winding through a sea of stems
pausing occasionally beneath parasols
of yellow feathering or
the wise cotton fluff of an elder flower

eternity and sunlight beam in and cast
shade, early signs of disintegration

a young dandelion
is a problem
an old dandelion
is a wish

and an innocent soul
is a promise
to be dragged through
the mud, tarnished
a guilty soul
is tracing the pain in the wind
frayed cloth fleeing the meadow
.

243 notes

broken homes

michaellottner:

broken monologues, forgotten nests
in the cavern of lonely
a heart never rests

without a place to call home
there is no true shelter
from the rain that will fall

so never forget that nothing hurts
like having nothing at all
.

246 notes

Why do you have
a wide, toothy grin
my lovely snake
where your fangs should be?

Why, when you shake
your rattle
does it speak
with the voices
of politicians and priests
making empty promises?

Maybe my taste buds
deceive me
my friendly viper
but I could swear
the apple that you gave me
tastes a little bit
like the American dream

rich and complex
but slightly gamey
and like it has begun
to turn

You’ve disguised yourself well
my sexy serpent
in that Armani suit
and your cloak
of self righteousness

Still, I can’t help but see you
hiding there
in the grass

Max Mundan, Snake in the Grass

© David Rutter 2014

Follow me on twitter @dmr226

(via maxmundan)

104 notes

Do it without thinking. Make it a part of you. If you have to think before you act, it’s not a part of you.

30 notes

Nasty Habit

forpoetry:

and as we lay
sheets allow
one leg
of hers to
hang out

the moon
allows me
to see

a cigarette
lays lit on
the nightstand

what a nasty
habit
I think to
myself

proceeding to wrap
my body with
yours

what a nasty
habit
I think again

560 notes

cute-story-bro:

boyishgirls:

eslamy:

Elly mayday

so she isn’t at all like the people i usually post but u should all know about elly mayday bc this woman went through cancer and chemotherapy and kept modeling despite her scars and baldness and she’s a real inspiration go google her

excuse me while I drool over her extreme beauty DANG

109,370 notes

the-sum-of-many-poets:

Gravity and time
Have caused this old house
To frown at the edges
It has sheltered the sound of human menageries
My sepia memories
Are reflected in fading sunset windows
You are the last palpable link
Their stories are in the walls
This foolish superstition remains with you
You with a crumbling timber smile

©David Sichler

(Source: tumblr.com)

43 notes