February 2012
13 posts
7 tags
“The wax has melted
but the dream of flight
persists.
I, Icarus, though...”
– P.K. Page, This Heavy Craft (via yesyes)
6 tags
Feminist by Mary Fontana
babybirch:
kathleenjoy:
Blackberries spilled through her front yard, lanterns full of dark sugar. She wore her pink skirts among the bushes till they bled. School was a different story every day: Balboa discovering the Pacific, Petrarch discovering love. When Madame Curie discovered radium she died of cancer.
Her name was Lúthien, and her feet twinkled like stars. Her name was Eva, and she got...
7 tags
fluttering-slips:
A BOOKCASE IS NOT ENOUGH An opportunity to implement a new filing system, we store books in their logical places. Books about plants grow in the window. Books in the tub clean as effectively as water. The glossy covers of vegetables rainbow the crisper. Our manuscripts occupy our chairs at the dinner table. Eating is unnecessary if the author writes descriptively enough....
6 tags
“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal,...”
– John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via bookmania)
5 tags
“once someone told me
they were tired of
managing me and my
emotions
one man...”
– Kendra Grant Malone, excerpt from quiet as death (via holdonmagnolia)
5 tags
“Time that withers you will wither me. We will fall like ripe fruit and roll down...”
– Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body (via bookmania)
6 tags
“Now, this may seem strange from someone who writes about pretty dresses (mostly)...”
– You Don’t Have to Be Pretty - A Dress A Day
(It was nice to read this, this morning)
5 tags
“I don’t believe in deities. I believe in moments
of shallow respiration, hands...”
– Marty Cain, excerpt from 48 Hours Before You Leave (via holdonmagnolia)
7 tags
“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to...”
– Aaron Freeman “You Want A Physicist To Speak at your Funeral”
(source: npr)
I can’t stop crying.
(via everythinginthrees)
Not a bit of you is gone— you’re just less orderly.
(via qglas)
4 tags
“One morning—and so soon!—the first flower
has opened when you wake. Or you...”
– Denise Levertov, from “The Métier of Blossoming” (via growing-orbits)
4 tags
“Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake...”
– Mark Strand, The Coming of Light (via yesyes)
3 tags
mahpiohanzia
dictionaryofobscuresorrows:
n. the disappointment of being unable to fly, unable to stretch out your arms and vault into the air, having finally shrugged off the ballast of your own weight and ignited the fuel tank of unfulfilled desires you’ve been storing up since before you were born.
4 tags
“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the...”
– Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion (via -margarette)
January 2012
13 posts
4 tags
“Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a...”
– Jeanette Winterson (via tacit-delinquency)
4 tags
“In human intercourse the tragedy begins, not when there is misunderstanding...”
– Henry David Thoreau (via whimsicalele)
4 tags
Antonio Machado, from "Last Night As I Was...
airwalker:
Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt—marvelous error!— that a spring was breaking out in my heart. I said: Along which secret aqueduct, Oh water, are you coming to me, water of a new life that I have never drunk? Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt—marvelous error!— that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old...
4 tags
“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing,...”
– Alan Watts (via neil-gaiman)
4 tags
“Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little bit of music out...”
– (via bellamode)
4 tags
“Very gently and quietly, almost as if it were the blood singing in her veins, or...”
– Virginia Woolf (via riverbones)
4 tags
“Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its...”
– Kahlil Gibran (via riverbones)
5 tags
"Kissing Again" by Dorianne Laux
Kissing again, after a long drought of
not kissing—too many kids, bills, windows
needing repair. Sex, yes, though squeezed in
between the minor depths of anger, despair—
standing up amid the laundry
or fumbling onto the strip of rug between
the coffee table and the couch. Quick, furtive,
like birds. A dance on the wing, but no time
for kissing, the luxuriant tonguing of another
spongy...
5 tags
"Angels and Moths" by Olena Kalytiak Davis
If a man once loved you,
he’s turned you into a moth.
That’s how he’ll remember
the flutter: that numinous,
that beating, that winged.
Angels and moths:
that’s who men love.
But I don’t recollect like that.
I don’t think I ever loved
that gently. And I’ve never
flown toward a burning
house, hoping, maybe
my faith lay in that
single thing left,
in that smoldering filigree.
I never...
3 tags
“Touch my skin so I can be myself.
Let me feel you enter each limb bone by bone,...”
– Rumi (via battleships)
3 tags
tell me if this is all true: Listento the honeyed... →
fluttering-slips:
Listen
to the honeyed residue of beeswax,
not so much to the wren’s song, but to the pulse of its ochre colored belly,
to the weeping at the forest entrance,
to the clatter of crowds and plagues.
The earth is not speechless. The trees forgive and outlive terror.
The…
4 tags
“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope...”
– Neil Gaiman (via light-essence)
4 tags
“With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight...”
– To the New Year by W. S. Merwin (via growing-orbits)
December 2011
31 posts
6 tags
Sometimes, I like to read things aloud for no... →
Title: “Penelope and the Bird Man”
By: Laurie Byro and Ivan Waters
Text of the poem: here
Music: “Songbirds at Sunrise”, from Dan Gibson’s Solitudes
4 tags
fluttering-slips:
In Flight
The Himalayan legend says there are beautiful white birds that live completely in flight. They are born in the air,
must learn to fly before falling and die also in their flying. Maybe you have been born into such a life
with the bottom dropping out. Maybe gravity is claiming you and you feel ghost-scripted.
For the one who lives inside the fall, the sky...
3 tags
“Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark,...”
– Jack Kerouac (via talisman)
4 tags
“There are times
when i forget my name,
where i am more
the way the wind...”
– Santiago, from “before the names” (via growing-orbits)
3 tags
“The great man is he who does not lose his child-heart.”
– Mencius (via nirvikalpa)
4 tags
“I missed you even when I was with you. That’s been my problem. I miss what I...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via bearforartemis)
3 tags
““As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your...”
– Pablo Neruda (via wedreamoficecream)
5 tags
“Heaven, Kiwi thought, would be the reading room of a great library. But it would...”
– Karen Russell, Swamplandia! (via booksijustread)
5 tags
“Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous ones we do...”
– Words by Anne Sexton (via growing-orbits)
2 tags
one more thin gypsy thief: You Will Remember →
lucifelle:
You will remember that leaping stream where sweet aromas rose and trembled, and sometimes a bird, wearing water and slowness, its winter feathers. You will remember those gifts from the earth: indelible scents, gold clay, weeds in the thicket and crazy roots, magical thorns like…
4 tags
tell me if this is all true: Actual Animals It’s... →
fluttering-slips:
Actual Animals
It’s not that the antlers pain, exactly, budding from her forehead, but they do in the first few weeks feel raw, and her gait changes to accommodate the weight of them, so that she feels as if her head is still turning after it stops, and there are doorways to…
3 tags
“Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant...”
– Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway (1967)
3 tags
“I’d rather be subject to the ocean’s laws than the laws that apply...”
– from “The Seas” by Samantha Hunt
3 tags
“When she met my father she was still really good at being quiet. When she met...”
– from “The Seas” by Samantha Hunt
3 tags
“Some nights I want Jude so badly that I imagine I am giving birth to him. I...”
– from “The Seas” by Samantha Hunt
2 tags
devouredbyghosts:
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...
2 tags
“Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and...”
– - George R.R. Martin (via indisposablehero)
This is one of the most beautiful quotes I think I have ever read. I love it, and I will treasure it for my entire life.
(via draodoir-mna)
I don’t even like the man’s own writings, but this is beautiful.
(via jemimaaslana)
someone on The Livejournal translated Baby Got... →
capslockdoesntexpressmyjoy:
marthur:
puelhathnofury:
holdontoyourassbutts:
cardigangirl:
De clunibus magnis amandis oratio Mixaloti equitis mehercle! (By Hercules!) Rebecca, ecce! tantae clunes isti sunt! (Rebecca, behold! Such large buttocks she has!) amica esse videtur istorum hominum rhythmicorum. (She appears to be a girlfriend of one of those rhythmic-oration people.) sed, ut scis,...
3 tags
“I wanted to write “stay”
on your sides, surround
your bed with oceans
of...”
– J. Bradley (via grammatolatry)
“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”
– Rumi (via sunflower-soul)
5 tags
“Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my...”
– Pablo Neruda (via riverbones)
5 tags
“On a white poppy,
a butterfly’s torn wing
is a keepsake.”
– Bashō, trans. Hamill (via yesyes)
3 tags
"Dulzura" by Sandra Cisneros
Make love to me in Spanish.
Not with that other tongue.
I want you juntito a mi,
tender like the language
crooned to babies.
I want to be that
lullabied, mi bien
querido, that loved.
I want you inside
the mouth of my heart,
inside the harp of my wrists,
the sweet meat of the mango,
in the gold that dangles
from my ears and neck.
Say my name. Say it.
The way it’s supposed to be...
“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations...”
– Pablo Neruda (via fernsandmoss)