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familiar is only an ache.
— Scott-Patrick Mitchell, from "inner pity poems," Clean: Faith, Abuse and George Pell
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my father is a dying man. dying, meaning, helpless. man, meaning, violent. and what do you do with a helpless violence except fetch it its glasses?
— Ollie Schminkey, from "he yells for me, and i go to him," Dead Dad Jokes
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“I do not write every day, I read every day, think every day, work in the garden every day, and recognize in nature the same slow complicity. The same inevitability. The moment will arrive, always it does, it can be predicted but it cannot be demanded. I do not think of this as inspiration. I think of it as readiness.”
— Jeanette Winterson, from Art Objects (1995)
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“Eros is expropriation. He robs the body of limbs, substance, integrity and leaves the lover, essentially, less.”
— Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet
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Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God [originally published 1905]
Source: shi-saa
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tattoo art by Koiboy___
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“I never imagined that so many days would ultimately make such a small life.”
— Franz Kafka, from Diaries (via violentwavesofemotion)
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Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay”, Glass, Irony, and God
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Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980
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“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.”
— Sean Glatch, from “Caffeine, Pt. 1,″ 4:41
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Bill Knott, ‘Death’
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Five Stages of Grief, Donte Collins
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She would transform herself into sacred food. She would eat light, not matter; become food, not eat it. She would be consumed to become the host and consumed again as it.
Judith Van Herik, “Simone Weil’s Religious Imagery: How Looking Becomes Eating.”
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Anne Carson, from “Guillermo’s Sigh Symphony”, Decreation
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Anonymous asked:
So glad to see you posting again 😊
thanks<3