Louise Glück

Richard Siken

Crush

every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.

Ana Belén

You, the moon. You, the road. You, the little flowers by the side of the road. You keep singing along to that song I hate. Stop singing.

[…] I will turn myself into a gun, because I'm hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me like the bullet was there, like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time. 

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? 

[…] and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but I can't go through with it. I just don't want to die anymore. 

yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.

You are a fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued. 

Here you are in the straw house, feeding the straw dog.

 Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently we have had our difficulties and there are many things I want to ask you.

Love, for you,/ is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s/ terrifying.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.

let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes, you know the story, simply heaven. 

Who am I? I'm just a writer. I write things down. I walk through your dreams and invent the future. 

We’re shooting the scene where I swallow your heart and you make me/ spit it up again. I swallow your heart and it crawls/ right out of my mouth./ You swallow my heart and flee, but i want it back now, baby i want it back.

the names of flowers that open only once,/ shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops

Actually, you said, Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you. 

casey

A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he's still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he's still left with his hands.

A collection of poems driven by obsession reveals a poetry that is at once confessional, graceful, and savage.

Nikas

A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river

with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away

but then he’s still left with his hands.

sage lynn

A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river / but then he’s still left / with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away / but then he’s still left with his hands.

you are the fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

when reading - novels, memoirs, poetry — sometimes, i struggle to truly feel and digest what it is that i am reading. these are stories that are personal, and i am stuck wondering if, although they are shared, it would be invasive to see myself in another persons words, another persons truths.

i can say i admired his storytelling, the visceral emotion within each line and paragraph; the imagery; the choice, or lack thereof. there is love and there is loss, pure happiness and regret. there are feelings that i couldn’t name, that are beyond me, but they are there and they are felt and maybe i feel them too in my own way. i have loved and i have lost, and maybe it’s not the same, but i’m not sure if the differences are that significant.

you are the fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

when reading - novels, memoirs, poetry — sometimes, i struggle to truly feel and digest what it is that i am reading. these are stories that are personal, and i am stuck wondering if, although they are shared, it would be invasive to see myself in another persons words, another persons truths.

i can say i admired his storytelling, the visceral emotion within each line and paragraph; the imagery; the choice, or lack thereof. there is love and there is loss, pure happiness and regret. there are feelings that i couldn’t name, that are beyond me, but they are there and they are felt and maybe i feel them too in my own way. i have loved and i have lost, and maybe it’s not the same, but i’m not sure if the differences are that significant.

personal library, bought from books are magic brooklyn heights

Patricia K

kelsey

four stars

it crushed me.... but it was so good and i love how richard siken writes

Place holder for different book, which is the graphic novel Crush by Svetlana Chmakova which I gave a 5:5

amelia <3

Monicap

katrina montgomery

Maria

“You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.”

mr. siken has his unique way in formulating a captivating sentence that form a biblically accurate feelings of longing and yearning. this book made me feel things i never thought i could. it is such a personal read, like i am sucked into someone’s mind and i get to see all their monsters while i find my own monsters in them. overall brilliant.

𓆨

"You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together
to make a creature that will do what I say
or love me back."

i don't know much about poetry as i don't usually read much of it, but i quite enjoyed this. i appreciated the human character of the poems as well as the coherence of this piece as a whole.

"oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued."

Kendall McClain

Richy I love you so dearly but please leave me alone! 4.5 bc I still prefer war of the foxes but she slays and makes me sad and nostalgic for the tumblr days

Annika Arguemore

Do we mean something when we talk? HAHA OUCH

“…the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.”

i would not be the writer that i am now without mr. siken and this masterpiece of his. shaped me fr.

“…the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.”

i would not be the writer that i am now without mr. siken and this masterpiece of his. shaped me fr.

azliana aziz

Bianca Layog

consider the hairpin turn— it gets better every time.

franco

horrible. ruined my life. (complimentary)

yaya

siken’s words slice right through me. i’m still learning to appreciate poetry, and this certainly made me realize just how much i’m missing. everything about this collection is everything i could possibly love

lili🎐

Such a beautiful and heart wrenching read. I hope one day I choose happiness and stop reading things that make me sad. But I loved it. I love how he writes and I love that I felt seen.

Geoffrey Froggatt

“Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.” 

I used to make fun of poetry when I was young. Truth be told, I thought it was pretentious because it spoke of things that did not touch me, but in reality they were just things that hadn’t touched me yet. After falling in love with On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, I told myself I would read more poetry and try to find something that touches me and makes me feel raw and alive the way that that book’s prose did. While certain words didn’t resonate with me, the ones that did packed a punch. This book made me realize what poetry is meant to do. This book cut to the heart of a story and let the extra fluff fall away, what was left were the raw emotions of the author detailing a deeply intimate experience, putting into words the massive events in his life and leaving only the most impactful parts, leaving only the moments that held the most meaning. I feel like an idiot for not realizing why poetry is beloved. This made me realize how others have felt the way I have felt, and experienced the things I have experienced, all the while our mutually shared experiences were unique to themselves. I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me while reading this, like I was reading someone’s most intimate thoughts, and interrupting private moments between lovers. I underestimated poetry as a medium. I’ll never make that mistake again.

“We are all going forward. None of us are going back.”

Crush

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