February 2012
191 posts
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goodnight lovelies.
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Song List
When I’m Small - Phantogram
Blue Skies - Noah and the Whale
Clean Getaway - Maria Taylor
Kingdom of the Animals - Iron & Wine
Clair De Lune - Michael Dulin
Empty - Ray LaMontagne
Someone Else’s Song - Wilco
Don’t Let Them See You Cry - Manchester Orchestra
Bruised Orange - Bon Iver
The General Specific - Band of Horses
Worth Wondering - Bronze Radio Return
Fall...
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I want to release memory. Pull this torture away from its own handle
and watch its heft fall like a feather striking a body.
Rachel Eliza Griffiths, from “Perdre”
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“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be...”
– Victor Hugo
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The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W.H. Auden
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Hazy | Rosi Golan
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Shadows leak like secrets through the cracks in the wall. Puddling in the dents created by a hollowness of words, growing into a lake filled with Unknown. In my mind’s eye, it is a large black mass on which all light deteriorates, shriveled like time-withered skin and dried grapes. Shadows creep like whispers along bare bricks, corners shrinking under the lack of luminescence.
I step into the...
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“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly...”
– Edgar Allen Poe
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“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.”
– Philip K. Dick
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What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you.
Richard Wilbur
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“Some catastrophic moments invite clarity, explode in split moments: You smash...”
– Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
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Anatomy
I want to be;
the concaves separating each rib,
gently protruding hips,
elegant curves of each clavicle.
I want to;
explore your taut canvus,
become every sinewy scar and bruise.
I want to be;
molded into you.
(spilledinklings)
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We see it haunting lockets, cards, carved into the breasts of trees or fingered into fresh cement, this shape of what does not exist: two upside-down teardrops
fused at the ankles, their cries unheard. In red cardboard, a vault for chocolates. Synonym for affection at the end of an erotic letter, soggy with lavender. What everyone searches for
and promises, yet cannot recognize— the engine that...
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“All of our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.”
– Blaise Pascal
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We want so much, When perhaps we live best In the spaces between loves,
That unconscious roving, The heart its own rough animal.
Tracy K. Smith, from “A Hunger So Honed”
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“It makes you wonder. All the brilliant things we might have done with our lives...”
– Ann Patchett
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These chiselled details,
these hollowed wails,
the urge to think of more.
These sunken ships,
these muted lips,
a tale of forgotten lore.
I would like to drown,
while falling down,
off the shore and into the sea.
I want to die,
while aware of the lie,
that dead, I will truly be.
whisper diaries
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We put the puzzle together piece by piece, loving how one curved notch fits so sweetly with another. A yellow smudge becomes the brush of a broom, and two blue arms fill in the last of the sky. We patch together porch swings and autumn trees, matching gold to gold. We hold the eyes of deer in our palms, a pair of brown shoes. We do this as the child circles her room, impatient with her blossoming,...
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“We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realize that we’re all going...”
– Irvine Welsh
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“And, in the end
The love you take
is equal to the love you make.”
– Paul McCartney
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Roam
To the remotest corners of the sky I would roam. Sketch my steps through the clouds like the silk ribbon of a kite tracing the horizon is what I would do, tossing bits of excess rain for my shadow to catch so I can always find my way back to my favourite cloud. I would play hop-the-airplane and accept the wind’s invitation to a sing-along, howling late into the night is what we would do. Carry my...
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When do we become able to tear down the walls we’ve constructed around our hearts? Like spiders, we have woven strand after strand, fabricating a web that envelops us tightly, suffocating emotions. I’ve become envious of those who love aimlessly and effortlessly while I am sealed shut and unable to find a key capable of unlocking the cage I contrived. (bavarde)
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If you post original writings, please like this.
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“Passion makes a person stop eating, sleeping, working, feeling at peace. A lot...”
– Paulo Coehlo, Eleven Minutes
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“Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings.”
– W.H. Auden
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I remember when words became a necessity. It didn’t happen overnight, it didn’t bloom from nothing, it wasn’t like the explosion of a star or the shock of lightening on a perfectly sunny day in the middle of August. It was slow burning, patient, underground but unstoppable, and I couldn’t understand it at first. I didn’t know what was going on. It was almost like being sick. Cells were being...