hello friends does anyone remember me
lies
The lack of god calls to me And sings hallelujah, sings hallelujah To the emptiness of the space Between bodies. In pockets of air Atoms hum to an unknown tune And I cannot write it down. When I die I will be buried in stone Even though I asked to be cremated But if I burn I will sing hallelujah As my bones turn to ashes And my family weeps to Ave Maria.
Late night morbid drunk fridge poetry.
Jack and I
The giant keeps a pearl in his mouth. Jack climbs an oak tree, calls down and asks for forgiveness. Still the giant curls his tongue around the pearl, calls it an egg, calls it something golden. Jack catches the sun in his hands and asks the giant if he would care to exchange. The market value is in his favour. Jack comes to me and says, I do not have the pearl but I have a diamond. I ask where he found it. Jack says between the toes of the giant. I give Jack the sun and I give the giant my blessing.
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loveknows-hang-deactivated20210
Source: loveknows-hang
moderateclimates reblogged
The poem was a tragedy.
Two hands folding, never holding.
The poem ends like a flock
of birds migrating South for the winter
and this time I do not cry–
I do not wail into the heavy night.
This time I make the poem a prayer.
Shelby Asquith, Be gentle going into the heavy night (via exahele)
home made of words and commas for doors and semi-colons for eyes and question marks for tea and parentheses for cigarettes and I have built a home out of poems and here I sit and sleep and dream of tigers and the end of the next line
moderateclimates reblogged
Fear both the heat and the cold of your heart, and try to have patience, if you can.
J.R.R. Tolkien
Source: quotemadness.com
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"Here, let me pick that book up for you. I can teach you so many things, baby. Like the Dewey Decimal System." #sexylibrarian
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To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.
— Anne Carson, from Red Doc>
I tried to be cute for a party but my cat is still cuter.
At least I have the flowers of myself, and my thoughts, no god / can take that;
H. D., from “The Islands,” Selected Poems (via lifeinpoetry)
moderateclimates reblogged
The poem is written on the body, And the body is written on the poem. […] This is the reciprocity of love That outwits death. Death looks In one place and we’re in the other.
Death looks there, but we are here.
—Gregory Orr, from Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved
moderateclimates reblogged
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
Possible to say she is both alive and dead.
Anne Carson, from Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (via violentwavesofemotion)