Tag Archives: poetry

Poetry Day

It’s been a while since I did one of these, what, with life getting in the way and all.  But it’s back!

It’s Poetry Day, once again featuring miss Emily K Proeber.

Real World

You were
an optimistic sadist, hoping
your nightmare
would return,
so tired
that the walls crawled

to re-dream, speeding
over light-bumps, tripping
over shadows, falling
asleep again
is not
in her vocabulary.

The room spun
twice today –
once for each
of us, for
the times that we
awoke, losing
our battles
with mourning.

We are damaged, dis-
counted, but at the biting
apple-core, still


Poetry Day

This just in! A new poem by Miss Emily K Proeber to be featured TODAY on Inkblabber. Written just last night, here it is!


Something’s wrong, like
the taste in your mouth when you’re eating candy
in the bathroom, how
you keep your hands in the light so
they can light your way
later, in glowing
green, radio—
active in—
frequencies, I

only care for your atti-
in singsong, so I can singalong

toxic fumes from burning brains, searing
screams in the explosion
that brought the wilderness back
to reclaim itself, free
from overthought

we will always remember which country
is getting stepped on

I only date communists, so
we’re equal

Poetry Day

Emily K Proeber’s old poem “Opening the wound” is still one of my favorites. It too was also written at 1am one night. I am beginning to believe that she writes her best work at night, clearly. Enjoy!

opening the wound

The city burns
with our discontent, smoke
rising out
of our anguish, the years
of killing ourselves

why should we live
with dinosaurs?
the ice age
is still coming.

maybe love
is on
the other side of the world
a transatlantic
at me –

will you shoot me
for trying
to find it?

am I still even on
the table, anesthetized
or not? You would not
put me
to sleep, you

raccoons and
lobsters do scream when
burned alive –

your cold, dead eyes are too big
for an animal, you
are something worse –
your deadbeat heart –
I don’t want it.

maybe love
was just never meant to be
real, only
a human


You are still
my happy thought
when I need to
fly or
save myself.

This burns best when
its tears are dried up
and abandoned, then
nothing gets hurt but

old scars

Her explanation of it can be found here: http://konfuzedwithak.deviantart.com/gallery/12465648#/d45xwnk


Also, it is her Birthday today as well, so happy birthday to Emily!

Poetry Day

Today once again features the works of Miss Emily K Proeber. This is one of my favorites that she has written and I hope you enjoy it too. Her comments on it shall be at the end.

Also, if you are a poet and would like to be featured on a Poetry Day, please let me know! I’d be more than happy to share your work here on Inkblabber.

Pop Culture Love Song

I’m told to love things
in magazines, skinny
slutty size twos, clean-
shaven faces, spiked up
and satiny hair, we’ve all been
autotuned to mediocrity
with a pretty face well
I don’t give a damn

I’ll pile all your flaws, three sizes
too large
on my ramshackle heart, I’ll
bear their burden, pull them
all the way up to the top of the mount when
you crumple it, like
used wrapping paper, I’m just
another one of the whos
a face you can’t see, though
what big eyes you have, Mr. Owl
how many looks will it take
for you to see that you are my chocolaty
center, making me melt, just
give me a break, let down
your hair, your firewall, I’m no
virus, I’m your non-drowsy,
congested-stuffy head, sore
throat, cough, aching, fever
so you can get through the day medicine –
registered trademark –
guaranteed for life, full
refund, no questions asked, I

and I can be yours for only
three easy payments of
respect, if you call me

Poet’s notes: “ha, this is ridiculous. not sure where it came from, but i kinda like it.”

Poetry Day

Once again, we have Emily K Proeber’s poem.  This one will be a part of the second issue of The New Gnus Literary Journal.  It is also a poem she does not remember writing and, in her words, “I found this on my phone, typed out at roughly 2am, right before I passed out asleep.”


Falling Asleep -is terrifying-


the ketchup-packet
car-tire bomb
was too much for my brain.

Poetry Day

After going to a poetry reading in Milwaukee with my best friend Emily tonight, I realized that poetry was sorely lacking on my site as a type of writing to talk about.

Sadly, poetry is not my forte.  Happily, Emily has said that I am welcome to share her works on Inkblabber whenever I want in order to correct this lack on my part.  So about once a week (maybe Wednesdays?), I’ll put of a poem of hers for reading, discussing, and really, anything else that you want to do with it.

Here’s today’s poem for you.


they insist on organizing my life
in condescending order

I sleep violently, dreaming
of saviors

lying in bed with velvet Elvis
painted in the same way
as a Madonna –

I wish I could touch
your picture

you are the sand
I want to keep curled
under my toes


About Emily K Proeber: Emily has lived in Wisconsin her entire life, but has traveled to over 8 countries in her near 23 years of life.  And she hopes that is not the end of her travels either. She enjoys photography, writing, and the outdoors, even if the outdoors tries to kill her on a weekly basis due to allergies.  She is currently looking for employment after graduating Carthage College with an English Major as sadly, her writing has yet to begin to pay for her loans. But it’s something she loves, so she will likely go to the grave with a pen in hand and a poem in mind.

She has been published in the New Gnus Literary Journal as well as the Centrique.  Contact her for a copy of her self-published chapbook of “Here You Go”

Her poetry can be found here: http://konfuzedwithak.deviantart.com/gallery/12465648