The Noresoup Jukebox

(Using the Golden Shovel method, this is an excerpt from Mary Oliver’s “Don’t Hesitate.”) "Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb." I shall not stray away, for I will want to return anyway. You can eat a flower or put the petals in whatever Or you can leave it be and time will still be unkind to it. The bouquet is dying as it is So if you desire to try to keep it alive, don’t! Set it free, let it die, leave it be. Yet still, you wouldn’t lose a penny to stop being afraid. For fear reminds us of what the world is fondest of; the terrible unknowns, the tragedies, the darkness and its unforgiving wit, the stories of which are gruesome and plenty. For every fortnight, on my bedside, sits fragile joy. I greet her, and she smiles, bliss is what she is And yet, her countenance shows not The many fears that she has made. For when she is gone who shall I turn to? In her absence is solitude and that cannot be. Thus, I shall allow sleep ...

Lana Del Rey - Get Free I'm at the end of the road it seems there's a bridge ahead that I must cross a land of possibilities awaits, with greater pains and higher costs I am woman, I am woman my youth beams at me from behind silent prayers that led me here louder cries that kept me alive when my feet took me to the edge of the cliffs my future held me back "There is a bridge yet that you must cross this is not the end, you must revert, you must head back." And so I did,  it took every fibre of my being it took me all my youth to allow joy and it took me a few hundred hours to look in the mirror  to stare at myself, using my eyes and no other and who was I?  Who was I to me? All my youth I had carried others and kept myself asleep. So, here we are, at the end of the road Feet bruised, heart still aching To look behind now means Looking at my losses and to know it was a good thing.  For the heart remembers But the mind often forgets And perhaps that is better For in th...

 a friend and i in the middle of quaint little Tibet it is rare to find it so quiet yet it is there that you'll find us a mess  a friend and a beer and floating tissues from Tibet heads peaking out the railing phones buzzing but it won't get to our heads a friend and i meet two dreadful guys in little Tibet one of them likes sleepy women when they're near, and there's a long road ahead a friend, a pen, I'm doodling in little Tibet  I'm drawing the only person with whom i can find rest and yes, we stay for hours and hours i guess there's no other place to be than little Tibet when you need a drink, a place to vent basque cheesecake as a side for your indie mint and though your friend may feel inhuman  some hours spent in quaint places like our little Tibet means familiar people and familiar places means familiar company and familiar traces of who you are and always will be something you'll only find in sweet, quiet, intimate little Tibet. ~ ៷

Vienna - Billy Joel nothing in life is nice  except for spending time with you we live life in pairs too good to be true and i believe in us, i do, i do! when one blooms, it is not in vain  for the other does too "nothing in life is nice it's been playing tricks on me and the irony is i had only asked for peonies so i must be patient? i see, i see. to be okay must mean to be at peace  yet it is only with a heavy heart that i leave if it never happens well then, c'est la vie." nothing in life is nice except for the times the mundane suffice and though life as platonic pairs is boring it helps that im nice in a span of one week you made me laugh so hard, i cried twice most days, all days, it was enough to be young, to be girls, to be alive. ~៷

my sister screams at the apricot tree my mother planted "Why have you pierced through my walls? why have you broken my windows?" I sit still, others enjoy the apricots. it is the first harvest and we have been blessed giddy with anticipation as its flower falls a tree cannot bear the burden of a human's sorrows it has bore fruit, the wait has been fought the apricots are sour,  there are some years ahead before they become sweet but the apricots and the tree - with all its bothersome branches - are ours and till then, window panes will be fixed and walls be filled branches can be cut but they may sprout with glee bear flowers for bees and turn to fruit and ripen again with ease what is it then that we can do? but to bathe in its beauty, to collect its petals, to watch its leaves turn brown and to enjoy its fruits before it perils yes, it is true, i sometimes scream at the apricot tree too for why are its flowers a dull pink why are its fruits small when my family needs pl...

i ate like a starved child on January i felt there was no point any longer if i ate pork, i ate only the fatty bits if i had meat, i had 3 servings and after my meal, i wrap sugar in syrup-soaked pancake and then i sleep lipstick on a pig i was undesirable then just as i am now when food filled up to my nasal cavity  i allowed myself to dance, i sang when it went down further and pranced when it all fit in my belly and i grew and grew and it was the same then and now lipstick on a pig being a woman is such: when i found myself grounded, just as i was growing out of my skin just as i prayed and said it is enough my belly emptied itself, all coming out of my mouth and it happened in February and it happened on a Sunday when i swore it would never happen again and when i had cursed men and i had found comfort in my sloth well all my desires came back to me like a forgotten memory and then i remembered all that i had wanted for myself and that night my mother tells me she's living thro...

Ichiko Aoba - Asleep Among Endives I have not written in a while, I wonder why the last time I wrote, I wrote about love or rather I finished what I had written about love I started the poem back in June or was it July or a few months after? I'm not certain. When Ruby wrote to me and told me she liked my way of thinking I was perplexed because my thoughts had only ever existed behind my eyelids and suddenly they had transcended into their own beings; like they mattered and maybe they do, in fact, matter beyond the values I give them perhaps my thoughts seep out every now and then and people thank or hate me for it But since then I have lost money, someone stole my phone and I spilt my drink on my laptop many tears were shed and few were left oblivious to my despair I went clubbing once and regretted it; I've felt dirty ever since then I'm upset with a friend and it's been over a month now and there's a lunatic living above me I haven't been hugged in a while nor...