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Three Poems You Need To Read If You Want To Cry And Laugh At The Same Time

11 de mayo de 2018

Cultura Colectiva

Have you ever wanted to cry and laugh at the same time? Well these poems are for you.

Celine Joubert is a young writer and touring performer who focuses on acting, singing, coaching, as well as public speaking. Her creative process for art comes from within, and flows from her fingertips especially when emotions —such as suffering and despair— are experienced.
Celine finds poetry to be a careful balance and an intricate form of expression that few possess the gift for
. In her own words: "a great poet is someone who can put into words those strange notions that are always felt in life, but never seem to make plain sense. Inspiration for me stems from any being that is unapologetic about themselves and their frankness. Anyone or thing that doesn’t sweeten the load, who lets on like it is —how they experienced it". 


When I feel the air dampen, I know where she will be.

Down the street by the graveyard, she'll be waiting for me.

I was seated beside her, fingers tugging at my leather.

“Don’t you find it odd one’s mood reflects the weather?"

A tender smile shown, directly in her stunned eye.

She was between having a laugh, and letting out a cry.


First thing I remember thinking was that you didn't open the door on my side.

As if it was our honeymoon,

As if I expected you to carry me over the threshold.

You wouldn't bother lifting anything of mine.

Whether it be spirits, a gown or a hand held to kiss.

Raising your arm requires the presence of a long drag or a fat behind—

To smoke, to hit. To disappoint.

I said you're an enormity.

Yet the phrase isn't even that you're a colossal 'someone' or 'something'.

You're just the name in itself, is all.

And as clever, and beautiful and quick-witted as you may be,

Your bad overthrows your good when placed on the steady.

Don't lie. Damn you, don't fib.

It shows on your face.

Those tan wrinkled lines carved themselves too deep now.

Have dug a tomb on your forehead from all the times you strained from truth.

Because you can pick at the schemes,

The motives of every fool in the seven seas,

But salt will sting when you're abandoned on the deck.

I'll be sure to pass on the next one;

"Spit in his foul mouth when he leans in."

He's a hypocrite. He's a swell snake.


Often, all everything really comes down to is the fact that I never did ask for a life.

And the mystery of initial existence in itself could be revolved around one question;

How would you have even asked for one?


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TAGS: Poetry Writing

Cultura Colectiva


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