May 2012
3 posts
tamburina:
I want to be the one you want in your mind and your gut and your bathroom But I don’t want you to fuck the whole world to find out.
Charles Bukowski
ifthesundoesntrise:
I don’t know who this I’m writing this to, but it’s early in the morning and the city is unhappy. I know this because the world knows this, and when it rests its arm on my shoulder I feel the weight.
The only reason I smoke is because I want to be consumed by something that burns for my pleasure. I consume the cigarette, the cigarette consumes me. Killing something that...
April 2012
8 posts
Lies I’ve Told My 3 Year Old Recently
commanderspock:
thepoetrycollection
“Lies I’ve Told My 3 Year Old Recently” Raul Gutierrez Trees talk to each other at night. All fish are named either Lorna or Jack. Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose. Tiny bears live in drain pipes. If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky. The moon and the sun had a fight a long time...
“Well, always is just an inherently ridiculous concept, but of course you want to...”
– John Green, on saying “I love you forever” (via loveyourchaos)
“Death comes to me again, a girl
in a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling.
It’s not...”
– Dorriane Laux (via vernish)
“I would have given him everything. I would have pulled down planets to make our...”
– Jonathan Carroll, “The Marriage of Sticks” (via gazzera)
“I.
Our kiss is a secret handshake, a password.
We love like spies, like...”
– Mindy Nettifee, “This is the Nonsense of Love” (via fleurishes)
“See when you’re mad, you don’t miss people. So if you stay mad, it’s like you...”
– Uptown Girls (via eletheowl)
weedisalwaysbetter:
“I love you.”
hilan:
“I love you.”
The first time he said those words, he traced his fingertips over my eyelashes. It was still dark outside. We had taken refuge in the warmth of my bed.
“Can I ask you a question?,” I whispered into my pillow.
“Yes, you can.”
“If you ever stop loving me—”
I could feel his muscles tighten, waiting to reply. But I pressed my fingers...
March 2012
18 posts
“There was a great tenderness to the sadness
when I would go there. She knew how...”
– “Trying To Have Something Left Over,” Jack Gilbert (via shinjimoon)
“To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is...”
– Mary Oliver, from “In Blackwater Woods” (via proustitute)
“I said to the sun, ‘Tell me about the big bang.’ The sun said, ‘it hurts to...”
– Andrea Gibson (via lifeincoffeespoons)
Haiku | Sonia Sanchez
itouchtouchthings:
There are things sadder than you and I. Some people do not even touch.
What's it Like to Love a Poet?
animalitia:
You’ll have me For hours on end, All to your self, “I’m yours alone,” Until you lose me To the words Like another girl, Who I’ll be Thinking about When you call, When you talk, When we’re out Eating dinner With your folks, In our bed Late at night, Whenever; I’ll love you, But the words Will always Be there too, Whispering In my ear Seductive Sweet nothings.
I’ll write for you, All...
(133)
clavicola:
I don’t know what to do with my hands when you’re looking at me like that.
Watchseaoleena:
Humbled and stunned at this beauty.
High quality/full screen is a must.
“I was satisfied with haiku until I met you,
but now I want a Russian novel,
a...”
– Dean Young (via clavicola)
flour, honey and milk: Antilamentation, by... →
dinahlance:
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook. Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication. Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you…
“Shadow, you’ll travel to what waits ahead,
the fatal shadow waiting at the rim....”
– Jorge Luis Borges, from “To the One Who is Reading Me,” trans. Tony Barnstone (via proustitute)
“There’s two kinds of women—those you write poems about and those you don’t.”
– Jeffrey McDaniel (via beautyisanillusion)
Bringing My Son to the Police Station to be...
My lemon-colored whisper-weight blouse with keyhole closure and sweetheart neckline is tucked into a pastel silhouette skirt with side-slit vents and triplicate pleats when I realize in the sunlight through the windshield that the cool yellow of this blouse clashes with the buttermilk heather in my skirt which makes me slightly queasy however
the periwinkle in the pattern on the sash is...
Bike Ride with Older Boys | Laura Kasischke
The one I didn’t go on.
I was thirteen, and they were older. I’d met them at the public pool. I must
have given them my number. I’m sure
I’d given them my number, knowing the girl I was…
It was summer. My afternoons were made of time and vinyl. My mother worked, but I had a bike. They wanted
to go for a ride. Just me and them. I said okay fine, I’d meet...
Slow Children at Play | Cecilia Woloch
All the quick children have gone inside, called by their mothers to hurry-up-wash-your-hands honey-dinner’s-getting-cold, just-wait-till-your-father-gets-home- and only the slow children out on the lawns, marking off paths between fireflies, making soft little sounds with their mouths,ohs, that glow and go out and glow. And their slow mothers flickering, pale in the dusk, watching them turn in...
Watching the Mayan Women | Luisa Villani
I hang the window inside out like a shirt drying in a breeze and the arms that are missing come to me Yes, it’s a song, one I don’t quite comprehend although I do understand the laundry. White ash and rain water, a method my aunt taught me, but I’ll never know how she learned it in Brooklyn. Her mind has gone to seed, blown by a stroke,...
February 2012
5 posts
1 tag
“I realize there’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re...”
– Jeffrey McDaniel (via wolvesatnight) (via tariqwest) (via in-decisions)
“He wasn’t the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was...”
– Sarah Dessen (via timeisablur)
2 tags
December 2011
5 posts
cathylopez:
Rumi, Like This
(read by Tilda...
“He thinks of you when the woman lying next to him thinks he’s asleep.”
– Elliot Perlman (via thechocolatebrigade)
“She says he isn’t as funny as he used to be. About fifty percent as
funny,...”
– Anniversary, Jason Whitmarsh (via creatingidylls)
November 2011
4 posts
“What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the...”
– Jacques Lacan (via saidthestarling)
October 2011
14 posts
3 tags
coconauts asked: i love your poetry pearl D: i didn't know you wrote!
Scheherazade, by Richard Siken
lathyrism:
Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again. How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forgot they are horses. It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it’s more like a song on a...
“you have a hundred secret names & I am the world’s worst shoplifter.
you...”
– you are a pharmacy