L. V., I Found This Poem In One Of The Pockets Of A Coat You Left At My Place

Detail of "Jeanne au Jardin" ("Jeanne in the Garden, Pontoise")
Camille Pissarro

L. V., i found this poem in one of the pockets of a coat you left at my place

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More Posts from Literaryvein and Others

literaryvein

1 year ago

Poetic Surgery

I lay you down under the sun
where god can see you.

Someone hands me a scalpel
and I make the first incision—
right at the soft spot between
the third verse and the fourth.

You bleed. You open up like a flower
at the hands of a Summer child.
I have poetry in place of bandages
so I plaster the silence with free

verse because apart from being myself,
I’ve also grown tired of being locked up.
Years from now, they’ll finally find
a cure for our kind of sadness.

Until then, we’ll drink our pepper
mint tea and write lousy poetry.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem as the peppermint tea circled down the drain

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literaryvein

3 years ago

L. V., i found this poem towering over us

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literaryvein

11 months ago

Detail of "Das Signal" ("The signal")
by: Hanno Karlhuber, 1995

I’ll admit there are bursts of happiness in my life

but I am left wondering with whom I should share them with

L. V., i found this poem staring at me from under the bed

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literaryvein

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

6 months ago

- film still from "A Very Long Engagement" (2004) with caption translated to English: "I have some bad news"
- words by L. V.: "you can only hope that there is a god and that he is vengeful"

L. V., just another almost haiku

[thoughts you had after he broke your heart: pt. 1]

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literaryvein

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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literaryvein

10 months ago

I love your 'in my drafts' and 'combing through my old poems' posts because as a non-writer (is that even a thing?) it's interesting to see like it's the behind the scenes of a movie. The drafts are especially intriguing. They feel raw and like I'm not supposed to be seeing it but you're letting us take a peek of your writing process. It feels like a secret.

It's a thing now, haha! Thank you for telling me this. I was very hesitant posting those because they might not be pretty enough or something along those lines. But I adore your description. I call it my "poetic autopsy" of sorts, but I like the behind-the-scenes analogy better. And that's the "feeling" I was aiming for with the drafts. To feel "raw", unedited, the emotions and thoughts allowed to run free, finally untethered—and if any of them come back to me, I'll be here to welcome them with open arms.

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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

5 months ago

Young woman lying in a grass (Detail)
Paul Gauguin, 1884

L. V., I Found This Poem On A Quiet Sunday Afternoon

Woman in the Park (Detail)
Ion Theodorescu-Sion, 1919

L. V., i found this poem on a quiet sunday afternoon

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literaryvein

9 months ago

you look at my writing
& ask why i write about drinking tea
& sitting, looking out the window,
people-watching.

you say it would bore the reader.

but sometimes there is magic
in writing the mundane.
the everyday,
the things
that are easy to ignore.

sometimes it’s enough to write about your eyes
when you’re looking at me
& i pretend not to notice
& you know i'm pretending
not to notice.

- L. V.

L. V., sometimes we don’t need to listen to the reader or the critics or the voices in our head

[i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 8)]

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