L. V., I Found This Poem Pacing Back And Forth Through My Mind

you always used to say that your day had gone fine

and I always wondered what you meant by "fine".

"Vase de fleurs à la fenêtre" - detail
("Vase of Flowers at the Window")
by Paul Gauguin, 1881

is it when the skies are blue and the birds are chirping?

you called it "picnic weather" once, when we were inside

and having breakfast for early dinner because

we were so broke, the cracks on the vase could pass for art.

L. V., i found this poem pacing back and forth through my mind

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When it seems there’s nothing left for me here, somehow there’s always you. All I have to do is grab my pen, and I add days to my life. If I keep this up, I’m afraid I’m going to live forever.

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L. V., i found this poem when you said you wanted to live forever

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8 months ago

Woman Reading (detail)
Childe Hassam, 1885

L. V., I’m Trying To Make Sense I Swear I’m Trying To Make Sense

L. V., i’m trying to make sense i swear i’m trying to make sense

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7 months ago

there are approximately 382 kinds of love

L. V., i found this poem bathing in neon lights

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3 years ago

L. V., i found this poem when i wanted to be so awfully happy that i never need to write poetry again

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1 year ago

Detail of "Young Painter at His Easel" by Théodore Géricault (French, 1791-1824)

you fell in love with an artist
who covered up white lie after white lie
like they were blank canvases

with raspberry sunsets and ocean blue
eyes, sometimes with midnight forests

that waited in still silence for fires to
devour them because it’s the only way
for them to ever light up.

- L. V.

Detail of "The Painter in his Studio" by Francois Boucher (French, 1703-1770)

don’t fall in love with an artist.
they collect tears to wipe excess rain
bows off their brushes. they’d collect yours
to wipe their hands clean.

- L. V.

Detail of "A Painter at Work" by Paul Cezanne (French, 1839-1906)

i fell in love with an artist once,
who punched fault lines into my heart
and concealed them with red finger paint.

he hung it up to dry and everyone called it
beautiful.

- L. V.

L. V., something i wrote a decade ago

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10 months ago

Detail of "Lilith" (1887) by John Collier

no one ever really asked
what became of the garden

- L. V.

after adam and eve
were banished

- L. V.

i never really wondered
what became of the serpent until i met you

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem tucked between pages of a bible you never returned to the local library

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8 months ago

Detail of "Young Woman on the Beach, Walbeerswick"
Philip Wilson Steer, 1886-88

L. V., I Found This Poem As I Swept The Confetti Away

L. V., i found this poem as i swept the confetti away

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literaryvein

8 months ago

There’s a story
about a stone, flung
into the belly of an ancient
ocean, and to this day, it is falling
still. On the night that you are born,
it is written that the stone strikes the
ocean floor, like a matchstick to the
matchbox. And you wonder why
all you’re ever good at is setting
things on fire—even the ones
who love you to death.
Perhaps people should
not love each other.
At least, not to
death.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem in the backwaters of your subconscious

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art writeblr writers on tumblr painting poetry creative writing literature poets on tumblr my writing original writing van gogh spilled ink poets corner literaryvein

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literaryvein

7 months ago

stop asking the universe how somebody could possibly love you

Boulevard Montmartre Spring (Detail)
Camille Pissarro, 1897

L. V., i found this poem as i reread plath's novel for the 7th time

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literaryvein

1 month ago

there is another speculation too, but i wanted to know your answer—answer only if you wish to.

Now I'm too curious to know what this other speculation is before answering your other ask...

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tell me dear anon tell me yours too really curious about your blog now too really curious about so many things now

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