April 2011
60 posts
a shadow in the shape of wonder: needlework and... →
You sat on my floor drawing shapes with the tips of your fingers into the carpet, rivers and forgotten forests, streets that looked like me around the mountains made of wine stains. You asked how someone like me could ever be lonely and I couldn’t tell you then but maybe it had something to do with the way you let your words settle into your lips and how they always looked like letters that had...
who is not you and knows he is not you and
Skirt day hey. And if a check should bounce…the sea will continue to suck in and out (you’ll think of sitting sifting sand sweet sun strong wind) And then on the street sidewalk, a woman walked by coiffed. And some scent was so strong it so reminded you of Spain. Then you had to stop and wonder. Street hilly streets Cuestas, cuestitas And yr calves tingle at the physical memoir. It’s a...
in my blood
moonandmoon:
You’re in my blood, this room, Spring itself is filled with you.
Rainer Maria Rilke
newness from earth
pasque flower in motion, spring’s softest down freshest fluffiest newness from earth hairy and pettable from bud to nub.
the white tulips opened as well today like my heart’s floodgates
vinca flashing me its bluest lushness & my love he loves me
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“Oft a flood / Have we two wept, and so / Drowned the whole world, us two; oft...”
– John Donne, “A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy’s Day, Being the Shortest Day”
autumn loving hibernation
goodbye to long days sun towards skin lollapaloozing my slight swing towards
salvation to a small space where i can expand hours to days
want to be with my baby can say it smiling, my baby
he makes me feel fine could i tell a soul
want to give him silver rings bestow some riches to his soul
because i’ve a feeling that maybe he can see me
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the autumnal crush by clark →
Crashingly Beautiful: your first parent →
“What is it that you contain? The dead. Time. Light patterns of millennia opening in your gut. Every minute, in each of you, a few million potassium atoms succumb to radioactive decay. The energy that powers these tiny atomic events has been locked inside potassium atoms ever since a star-sized bomb exploded nothing into being. Potassium, like uranium and radium, is a long-lived radioactive...
excerpt from 248. To the Virgins, to make much of...
GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
- Robert Herrick
Hyprcombustion: Lautréamont: A few of my favorite... →
puzzleoverit:
“Upheavals, anxieties, deprivation, death, exceptions in the physical and moral order, the spirit of negation, brutishness, hallucinations willfully induced, torture, destruction, sudden reversals of fortune, tears, instability, servitude, wildly burrowing imaginations, novels, the unexpected, the forbidden, the mysterious, vulture-like chemical peculiarities which watch over...
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I filled my plastic eggs with pictures of myself...
I had a dream that we had the easter egg hunt at school. I filled my plastic eggs with pictures of myself and stairs. The kids were using the stairs to get on the roof and escape. one of my kids showed their teacher the photo of me, and the teacher laughed really hard and showed her friends. the student asked for the photo back. it was the photo from my residence card.
~bad.habits
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“Don’t you think the stairs are a good place for reading letters? I do. One is...”
– katherine mansfield - letter dated 29 july, 1921. (via modernistwomen)
forward thrust of withdrawn
my fingers are like family and the whole tribe is a tossed salad of emotion righteousness and practice. when we work hard at this it becomes second nature, i will be writing my thesis my whole life. just revising over and over, editing over and over, rewording over and over over, it’s becoming a natural state, treelike plus thoughts, could easily be a foreword, forward thrust of withdrawn...
1 tag
“Editing is the transformation of chance into destiny.”
– Jean Luc Goddard
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air is evening
miracles melt beside windows functioning as passageways, she swallowed the signs on the face confirming abstractions automatically mapped in her mental mush. pushing the redundant agreement aside the cobwebs on her eyelashes reminded her of what she forgot she knew, when he showed her how to open the flue, out they flew into indigo evening, airs whooshed together, that is to say tornado...
1 tag
“trespassing on the very motion that allows
a passage, the girl rode up to the...”
– Lisa Samuels, Mornings of Air
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what roll of film with nothing burned into it
and what of
today i’ll get rid of all clothes and become a warrior, pound sand in the desert with or without companion, pick chives from the garden and sleep in waves of lovesea. charlatan monuments are incognizant yet of our intangible bewilderment, laughing as if we could become conscious at any time, you know of what i speak, the slept around whirlpool magnetized waterslide step right in...
1 tag
“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred...”
– Mary Oliver
ester v: at your fingertips
spotthefake:
encapsulated capture. spring forced, wind wanders in through rough closures of windows who only want the light. lilies pink white brown speckled spank and tease the darkest hours. burst, damnit, burst.
you are reminded of times when all that is out there is wide open, there is no choice but to burst.
light, sparkle you july 4th. ester, it is July 4th! so quickly it comes around...
“…As if you were on fire from within.
The Moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
– Pablo Neruda
something tragic you could never dream of...
Want and non-love’s logic charts overworked and misused to fill this agapeness, welcome to agapeland, the wonderland of love. and christ only knows what his mother was telling herself as she gave birth to a dream, a holding cell for something tragic you could never dream of controlling, yet procreating to elucidate a generation of love feasts and intellectual gluttony. held open by its own...
“My day passes between logic, whistling, going for walks, and being depressed.”
– Wittgenstein
All the while I'll know we're fucked, and not...
1 tag
forgetting if,remember yes
saturnrising:
“in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery...
