February 2012
1 tag
It never mattered that there was once a vast grieving: trees on their hillsides, in their groves, weeping – a plastic gold dropping through seasons and centuries to the ground – until now. On this fine September afternoon from which you are absent I am holding, as if my hand could store it, an ornament of amber you once gave me. Reason says this: the dead cannot see the living. The living will...
“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things
I want to be light and...”
– Mary Oliver
he said: you talk a wide variety of nowhere. locate yourself on your neuron map and maybe i will understand. i said: i could no sooner find the moon in its reflection. maybe they will read my impreciseness and see the reality, and drink it with sugar and cream. he said: i like my truth black. i wrote him fever-dream-perfect letters about his faults. when i was drunk i would forget...
1 tag
the girl sleeps as if someone special is dreaming the woman sleeps as if war will break out tomorrow the old woman sleeps as if it’s enough to feign death and death will pass by on the other side of sleep
-vera pavlova
“You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only...”
– Charles Baudelaire
“At first I was angry you had fallen in love with someone else
but you seem so...”
– Emily Horne
this is impossible. I knew it would be from the first time I had to beg you to call me. But I’m too selfish or short-sighted or hopeful, I’m not sure which. I just couldn’t pass you up- you’re not like anyone else. I should have never let it get this far. But now we’re in too deep, and I love everything that you are. we’re so alike in every way but this,...
“Music teaches us the passing of time. It teaches the value of a moment by giving...”
– Anna Kamienska
“Actually that’s my secret — I can’t even talk about you to anybody because I...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
“mature man
holding his nose
to life
desires young woman
who
is indifferent...”
– “A Personal,” Pablo Picasso
f1oating:
“my hands want to hide in your hair, slowly stroke the depth of your hair while we kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living movements, of dark fragrance. and if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. and there is a single saliva and a single flavour of ripe fruit, and i can feel you shiver...
“I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.”
– Sylvia Plath
“He is exactly
the poem
I wanted to write.”
– Mary Oliver, White Heron Rises Over Blackwater
“Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts...”
– Perhaps not to be is to be without your being, Pablo Neruda (via harrydaniels)
“We need more good crazy, it’d be nice to watch the news, and think,...”
– Emily Horne
The Ex-Queen Among the Astronomers by Fleur Adcock
They serve revolving saucer eyes dishes of stars; they wait upon huge lenses hung aloft to frame the slow procession of the skies.
Spectra possess their eyes; they face upwards, alert for meteorites, cherishing little glassy worlds: receptacles for outer space.
But she, exile, expelled, ex-queen, swishes among the men of science waiting for cloudy skies, for nights when constellations...
