May 2013
8 posts
From William Stafford's "A Ritual to Read to Each...
For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give—yes or no, or maybe—
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.
“We are an iridescent chaos.”
– Cézanne
April 2013
5 posts
“When we are no longer children we are already dead.”
– Constantin Brancusi
March 2013
4 posts
February 2013
12 posts
Hans Bellmer + Riot Grrrl Aesthetics.
Grrrls and Dolls: Appropriated Images of Girlhood in the Works of Hans Bellmer and Riot Grrrl Bands by Meghan Chandler
Watch
“Dévore-moi. Déforme-moi jusqu’à la laideur.”
January 2013
12 posts
“When he sleeps,
the snoring does not bother me:
the rhythmic growl, gravel...”
– Sierra DeMulder, “Heart Apnea” (via fleurishes)
“What is necessary, after all, is only this: solitude, vast inner solitude. To...”
– Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet (via heteroglossia)
From "," by Genine Lentine
Comma, tongue
flick, drawn into the white between
two phrases. Slow,
deliberate, delicate
graphite whisper,
you mark my page,
you urge my legs
open. Swim of the
head, the mouth
come to rest, caesura,
tip of the tuning
fork, crura humming,
vocal folds’ taut bands
unstrummed,
universe, pause.
(via fluttering-slips)
ahuntersheart:
"Longing, we say, because desire is full of endless distances. I must have been the same to her. But I remember so much, the way her hands dismantled bread, the thing her father said that hurt her, what she dreamed. There are moments when the body is as numinous as words, days that are the good flesh continuing." -Robert Hass, "Meditations at Lagunitas"
Anemone by Jennifer K. Sweeney
You cling to tide’s slim canyon,
underbelly of rock,
disguise your pure flesh
in gravel and wait
stone-fisted.
But open, you are
all mouth, quivering
chrysanthemum,
geode of neon and rust.
Never is anything so vulnerable
as when I touch you
with my tentative fingertip
and you swallow yourself,
enfolded burst by burst,
inward to a still point
of closed desire.
(via...
December 2012
7 posts
“Is it the dead who belong to us, or we who belong to the dead?”
– Gilles Deleuze, Cinema 2: The Time-Image (via batarde)
nymphean:
Broadcast- Oh How I Miss You
THE BIRD ALIGHTS, LOOKING ONLY TO ITS ALIGHTING
pnoom:
the bird alights, looking only to its alighting, its desire to alight mattering more than the branch. the river runs where it finds its repose and not where it is needed
i was never one who in love or in friendship preferred one sex over the other. beauty attracts me in equal measure, wherever i find it, in season
thus i separate myself from distinctions of where and how i love or...
November 2012
7 posts
“I’m writing
to hold on to you.”
– Henriikka Tavi, “Mourning Cloak,” trans. David Hackston (thanks, ahuntersheart & awritersruminations)
