October 2009
11 posts
FIVE things you wish you could say to FIVE different people right now:
i am utterly, completely, head over heels in love with you.
i’ve cried over you for a whole year.
let’s face it - i was nothing more than a fuck buddy to you.
you are a great person. i’m sorry for being flaky.
let’s face it - i was nothing more than a fuck buddy to you, too.
TEN things about...
Evening Love Song by Rainer Maria Rilke →
Ornamental clouds compose an evening love song; a road leaves evasively. The new moon begins a new chapter of our nights, of those frail nights we stretch out and which mingle with these black horizontals
i just miss you.
May 2009
2 posts
April 2009
16 posts
The Waking, Theodore Roethke
poetry365:
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there, And learn by going where I have to go.
...
fluctuat nec mergitur
longwinter:
Latin for “she is tossed by the waves, but is not sunk”
(via soy)
March 2009
23 posts
“I’ve got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings...”
– Frank O’Hara, “Morning” (I’ve been reading this, over and over) (via astroblemes)
“Stay out super late tonight
picking apples, making pies
put a little something...”
Memory, Raymond Carver
poetry365:
She lays her hand on his shoulder at the checkout stand. But he won’t go with her, and shakes his head.
She insists! He pays. She walks out with him to his big car, takes one look, laughs at it. Touches his cheek.
Leaves him with his groceries in the parking lot. Feeling foolish. Feeling diminished. Still paying.
The Gift, Raymond Carver
poetry365:
Snow began falling late last night. Wet flakes dropping past windows, snow covering the skylights. We watched for a time, surprised and happy. glad to be here, and nowhere else. I loaded up the wood stove. Adjusted the flue. We went to bed, where I closed my eyes at once. But for some reason, before falling asleep, I recalled the scene at the airport in Buenos Aires the...
“Oh baby, baby it’s a wild world
It’s hard to get by just upon a...”
Natural History, E. B. White
poetry365:
(A letter to Katherine, form the Kind Edward Hotel, Toronto)
The spider, dropping down from twig Unwinds a thread of her devising: A thin, premeditated rig To use in rising.
And all the journey down through space, In cool descent, and loyal-hearted, She builds a ladder to the place From which she started.
This I, gone forth, as spiders do, In spider’s web a truth discerning,...
