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Slaughterhouse
the sky white with
crows. the sky glorious with bruises.
O, how destruction became a
kind of prayer. how you prayed it
every night.
crows. the sky glorious with bruises.
O, how destruction became a
kind of prayer. how you prayed it
every night.
- GenresPoetry
17 pages, ebook
First published January 1, 2020
2 people are currently reading
439 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews
June 19, 2022
yves olade do you know about this cw show it ran for 15 years
February 24, 2022
yves olade is one of my favorite poets to ever exist and these poems made my chest hurt!!!!! what the fuck!!!!!!! im a slut for religious themes and metaphors and i was fed SO good !!!!!!! the poem ‘belovéd’ is quite literally my favorite thing to ever exist on this earth i’ve never read something more beautiful !!!! i love u yves !!!!!!!
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July 14, 2024“I dreamt of being wanted; some object of desire — something heady & sweet & worthy to be held down.”
“How these teeth beg for something tender to
sink into, how cruel & how callous the hunger of his hands.”
“So when God asks
me about love, I respond with cruelty. I know
no other answer / I know no other question”
“How these teeth beg for something tender to
sink into, how cruel & how callous the hunger of his hands.”
“So when God asks
me about love, I respond with cruelty. I know
no other answer / I know no other question”
December 21, 2022
it's a joke that i'm adding these less than 20 pages books to my read list but i just want everyone to read yves olade! he's so incredible and it's crazy that i have never heard of him before. i'm such a snob when it comes to contemporary poetry and i'm extremely surprised at how much i loved his writing. "maybe I’m tired of rooms full of knives and still being the most dangerous thing around."????? INSANE tbh
August 8, 2022
hate myself for destielcoding this but its basically begging for it. anyway ripped me to shreds tore my guts open blah blah im hollow yeah yeah.
September 3, 2023
“O, how much kindness there is between the thought of violence & it’s fulfilment.”
Yves Olade, you magnificent human being.
Yves Olade, you magnificent human being.
November 6, 2020
I've read this a few times now, because of how beautifully it reads. This time I actually sat down to try and make sense of what was being written, to try and understand instead of cherry picking nice phrases to express myself in truncated, short-changed quotes. The least I can say is that it's been a moving experience. I dug deeper into myself and into the book - and isn't that what art is? It changes you and changes with you. Like others have said, this book and Bloodsport definitely pack a punch to the gut even if you're simply reading. But if one day, you decide to take a deep dive into the words and demand that the pages speak directly to you instead of simply hearing what is written, I believe you will find it a deeply moving, eye-opening experience.
January 1, 2024
"Like a child, I flinch at violence, wherever I find it. Even when I am the seed. Even when I am the sacrifice."
"I know nothing but to take & keep taking.
If you ever want to rethread your ribcage,
you have to cut me open for it."
"I know nothing but to take & keep taking.
If you ever want to rethread your ribcage,
you have to cut me open for it."
November 18, 2023
4.5 stars
Loved the commentary on desire!!
the religious themes always elude me a bit but I still really enjoyed them... 05 Belovéd was my least favourite but I still thought the entire collection was really strong and resonating for me! i really like shorter poetry collections like this because they always feel like they are more singular and can truly exhaust the exploration of one topic.
———
(The Slaughterhouse)
"Here I was: September. I was Icarus, struck down by my sun and still dying to get closer. I was part wildfire, part wounded animal. Part sunlight, part slaughterhouse."
(01 Mercy)
"Like a child, I flinch at violence, wherever I find it. Even when I’m the seed. Even when I’m the sacrifice. God, I thought I was red. I was bright fucking blue. Never mind the pomegranates. Let November destroy the whole garden. Let’s all pretend at healing & watch the blood soak through our fingers. Yes, and just like this, there’s nothing left to repent. Nothing at all to feel guilty for. Instead, I pray, condemn me with desire. O Lover, sing of the knives we held at our hearts, sweet as sex on the tongue. I’m holding all my longing between my stomach & my throat. So I don’t want to be alone in praying for winter, anymore. I used to be so good & look where it got me: my body like stars, gathering dusk. You don’t have to see the sword for it to come inside you. You don’t have to see the sword for it to come back out. Maybe I’m tired of rooms full of knives & still being the most dangerous thing around. Crack open the caverns of my heart and see: every chamber has a bullet inside it. And isn’t that something to receive salvation from? — Like rain, so early in October? So I’m dried out, so I’m ruins. I am. I am. I spoke destruction into the world, and I couldn’t take it back. But look at all these rooftops I didn’t throw myself from, even if I could have done it so well. Even if all that blood, I could have made it so beautiful. So. I wanted something better. I wanted so many things I couldn’t say aloud. So I fell into the space between my body & the ground — a longing named gravity. A desire born impossibly hungry. God, how nothing ever satisfies, except my heart, with its lips around your name. It’s the same story over & over. My body hunting-field. My body slaughterhouse. I’m coughing up my own lungs. I’m spilling all this red into the street. I do it because I love you. I can’t help it, if I love you. There is nothing left to do, except pray to be delivered. Except remind God that I have already suffered. Remind Him that I have suffered enough, already, I think."
Loved the commentary on desire!!
the religious themes always elude me a bit but I still really enjoyed them... 05 Belovéd was my least favourite but I still thought the entire collection was really strong and resonating for me! i really like shorter poetry collections like this because they always feel like they are more singular and can truly exhaust the exploration of one topic.
———
(The Slaughterhouse)
"Here I was: September. I was Icarus, struck down by my sun and still dying to get closer. I was part wildfire, part wounded animal. Part sunlight, part slaughterhouse."
(01 Mercy)
"Like a child, I flinch at violence, wherever I find it. Even when I’m the seed. Even when I’m the sacrifice. God, I thought I was red. I was bright fucking blue. Never mind the pomegranates. Let November destroy the whole garden. Let’s all pretend at healing & watch the blood soak through our fingers. Yes, and just like this, there’s nothing left to repent. Nothing at all to feel guilty for. Instead, I pray, condemn me with desire. O Lover, sing of the knives we held at our hearts, sweet as sex on the tongue. I’m holding all my longing between my stomach & my throat. So I don’t want to be alone in praying for winter, anymore. I used to be so good & look where it got me: my body like stars, gathering dusk. You don’t have to see the sword for it to come inside you. You don’t have to see the sword for it to come back out. Maybe I’m tired of rooms full of knives & still being the most dangerous thing around. Crack open the caverns of my heart and see: every chamber has a bullet inside it. And isn’t that something to receive salvation from? — Like rain, so early in October? So I’m dried out, so I’m ruins. I am. I am. I spoke destruction into the world, and I couldn’t take it back. But look at all these rooftops I didn’t throw myself from, even if I could have done it so well. Even if all that blood, I could have made it so beautiful. So. I wanted something better. I wanted so many things I couldn’t say aloud. So I fell into the space between my body & the ground — a longing named gravity. A desire born impossibly hungry. God, how nothing ever satisfies, except my heart, with its lips around your name. It’s the same story over & over. My body hunting-field. My body slaughterhouse. I’m coughing up my own lungs. I’m spilling all this red into the street. I do it because I love you. I can’t help it, if I love you. There is nothing left to do, except pray to be delivered. Except remind God that I have already suffered. Remind Him that I have suffered enough, already, I think."
February 16, 2020
-> This is a very personal review - I am mostly expressing how I feel regarding the book, not necessarily judging it!
"Slaughterhouse", despite shortness in length, if counting by pages, was a long read because of its specific thickness of words&their images. The theme of violence and desire are heavy, and the sentences feel heavy as well - I felt as if most of them were dipped in a heavy sort of liquid - like thick blood or oil. It made me walk through the poems slowly. I enjoyed this - as parts challenged me and forced me to think more abstractly. It really was a very emotional experience, requiring quite a bit of letting yourself dive deep into necessarily pleasant feelings, which for me was deeply enjoyable and very impressive. On the other hand - it was also a little bit difficult to swallow and at times I did wonder - is it not too much, too heavy - doesn't it feel a little bit forced? I found certain sentences almost too purely nice sounding, without much meaning tied to them as if thrown a little bit accidentally, just because the specific words had a nice ring to them. It did not feel as natural to me as "Bloodsport" did. However, finding the last poem the lightest and most easy to grasp for myself I've come to appreciate the moments of unease I felt in the previous works. The simple felt good, but it also made me realize how I judge the poems by their easiness for me, by their natural relevance to my own experiences - and that is not what I should always measure them with. Sure - when it comes to first impression and joy - I will still pick them. But it's with the less easy ones that I grow into learning to see and relate to more. This is why despite enjoying Slaughterhouse slightly less than Bloodsport and also feeling unsure about actually liking a few things about it, I do see it as a wonderful collection and even more a huge experience to read!
"Slaughterhouse", despite shortness in length, if counting by pages, was a long read because of its specific thickness of words&their images. The theme of violence and desire are heavy, and the sentences feel heavy as well - I felt as if most of them were dipped in a heavy sort of liquid - like thick blood or oil. It made me walk through the poems slowly. I enjoyed this - as parts challenged me and forced me to think more abstractly. It really was a very emotional experience, requiring quite a bit of letting yourself dive deep into necessarily pleasant feelings, which for me was deeply enjoyable and very impressive. On the other hand - it was also a little bit difficult to swallow and at times I did wonder - is it not too much, too heavy - doesn't it feel a little bit forced? I found certain sentences almost too purely nice sounding, without much meaning tied to them as if thrown a little bit accidentally, just because the specific words had a nice ring to them. It did not feel as natural to me as "Bloodsport" did. However, finding the last poem the lightest and most easy to grasp for myself I've come to appreciate the moments of unease I felt in the previous works. The simple felt good, but it also made me realize how I judge the poems by their easiness for me, by their natural relevance to my own experiences - and that is not what I should always measure them with. Sure - when it comes to first impression and joy - I will still pick them. But it's with the less easy ones that I grow into learning to see and relate to more. This is why despite enjoying Slaughterhouse slightly less than Bloodsport and also feeling unsure about actually liking a few things about it, I do see it as a wonderful collection and even more a huge experience to read!
April 12, 2022
"open the caverns of my heart and see: every chamber has a bullet inside it"
Another beautiful collection from Yves Olade! The use of imagery has matured since Olade's previous collection 'Bloodsport', becoming much more complex and entrancing. The scenes created within each poem seem to leap off the page as if they were waiting dormant, desperate to be read. The theming is strong and strikingly aesthetic. Aiding the worldbuilding within each poem and allowing a full story arc to be displayed despite the small word count. Overall a very lovely collection
Despite its strengths, this collection didn't connect with me as much as 'Bloodsport' did due to the more prose-like style. Nonetheless, it was still fascinating and I will definitely read from this author again in future.
Another beautiful collection from Yves Olade! The use of imagery has matured since Olade's previous collection 'Bloodsport', becoming much more complex and entrancing. The scenes created within each poem seem to leap off the page as if they were waiting dormant, desperate to be read. The theming is strong and strikingly aesthetic. Aiding the worldbuilding within each poem and allowing a full story arc to be displayed despite the small word count. Overall a very lovely collection
Despite its strengths, this collection didn't connect with me as much as 'Bloodsport' did due to the more prose-like style. Nonetheless, it was still fascinating and I will definitely read from this author again in future.
October 14, 2023
fuck out my way when u see me!!! im rollin with the lgbt <33
New dating trope idea: Someone has to read Slaughterhouse in order to know me. I love me some religious longing desirable kissing cannibalistic poetry. Yves Olade, you're such a poet and I'm so glad I was able to read this. I'm so so feral in blood and bones. If you read this, you'll know why I'm acting like I just gave birth.
You know if Goodreads get rid of star rating system and thinks "Hey, maybe we should measure a book by screams?" I will voluntarily scream at the top of my lungs for this one. AND I DON'T EVEN DO IT!!! Also, what in the gay is this book? It's giving peak gay homosexuality, you guys should read it because you get it. 💅🌈🩷
New dating trope idea: Someone has to read Slaughterhouse in order to know me. I love me some religious longing desirable kissing cannibalistic poetry. Yves Olade, you're such a poet and I'm so glad I was able to read this. I'm so so feral in blood and bones. If you read this, you'll know why I'm acting like I just gave birth.
You know if Goodreads get rid of star rating system and thinks "Hey, maybe we should measure a book by screams?" I will voluntarily scream at the top of my lungs for this one. AND I DON'T EVEN DO IT!!! Also, what in the gay is this book? It's giving peak gay homosexuality, you guys should read it because you get it. 💅🌈🩷
March 17, 2024
Many readers seem to favor Slaughterhouse over Bloodsport, the author's previous poem collection. While I don't disagree that his skill has evolved since the publication of the aforementioned book, and he is without doubt an enormously talented poet, I didn't enjoy this collection as much as I was hoping to.
It almost feels like the distinctive "quotability" of the author's writing style is to its detriment. When every line in a poem is poignant to the maximum degree, the reader is bound to get tired eventually and the overall emotional impact is lost.
That is the very reason why I struggled to appreciate some of the longer poems in their entirety, as much as I enjoyed reading individual verses or stanzas. Even the gorgeous metaphors and imagery started getting repetitive and everything blurred together.
It almost feels like the distinctive "quotability" of the author's writing style is to its detriment. When every line in a poem is poignant to the maximum degree, the reader is bound to get tired eventually and the overall emotional impact is lost.
That is the very reason why I struggled to appreciate some of the longer poems in their entirety, as much as I enjoyed reading individual verses or stanzas. Even the gorgeous metaphors and imagery started getting repetitive and everything blurred together.
December 29, 2021
These poems are all so damn stunning. I'm a real sucker for religious metaphors for unrequited love and MAN does this author do it well. I've had this for about a year, and I swear I revisit the poem Belovéd every couple of weeks. Really brutal and gut wrenching work, ESPECIALLY from such a young poet. I cannot wait to see what they want to write next.
January 28, 2024
“So when God asks
me about love, I respond with cruelty. I know
no other answer / I know no other question. I’m
hot steel in the forger’s hands. I know all the ways already that love can be the wound, I
want to see, at last, how love can be the healing.”
Reading Olade’s poetry is like being punched in the guts, but gently.
me about love, I respond with cruelty. I know
no other answer / I know no other question. I’m
hot steel in the forger’s hands. I know all the ways already that love can be the wound, I
want to see, at last, how love can be the healing.”
Reading Olade’s poetry is like being punched in the guts, but gently.
October 7, 2025
Unpopular opinion I know… I’m sorry, there are some beautiful lines in here, but the composition itself is surprisingly weak. I definitely have bias against this collection — my abusive ex glorifies it — but some of the formatting issues did not help change my mind. The last poem in this collection is the strongest (and I believe is the most popular)
August 3, 2025
“I dreamt of being wanted; some object of desire - something heady & sweet & worthy to be held down.”
“O how I was always the kind of bitter you had to hold tight between your teeth. With your tongue curled back.”
“O how I was always the kind of bitter you had to hold tight between your teeth. With your tongue curled back.”
January 8, 2020
like most of yves' writing this felt like being punched in the gut in a really romantic and beautiful way. so good.
March 4, 2021
yves olade put their WHOLE PUSSY into this
May 8, 2021
holy shit
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August 23, 2021"Like a child, I flinch at violence, wherever I find it. Even when I am the seed. Even when I am the sacrifice."
February 14, 2022
4.5 / 5
i'm a sucker for raw yearning and love in its messiest form packed into violent and graphic imagery, what can i say
i'm a sucker for raw yearning and love in its messiest form packed into violent and graphic imagery, what can i say
March 14, 2022
2020 me would’ve gone feral over this 17 pages long poetry book ngl
March 28, 2022
4.5 stars
February 19, 2023
Everything about the way they wrote this made me more and more obsessed. It's just so beautifully written.
April 9, 2023
“So when God asks me about love, I respond with cruelty. I know no other answer / I know no other question.” insanity
May 26, 2023
My first time reading anything from this author: and now I want to read more projects!
June 30, 2023
yves olade is so talented
December 16, 2023
idk desire/violence/hurt just kinda slaps 😩😩😩 I rlly like his writing style, it's so sharp and visceral but still brittle and smth fragile to it?
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews