September 2011
1 post
4 tags
Interrupted Reading
babyjaneis-a-bside:
The female throat which carries pearls, carries two chins. They are resting. She wears a small model of a sixteenth century Dutch building as an earring. Two stories. Her throat carries one mouth, one nose, and one eye. No brain. No head of gorgeous hair dissolves. Her breasts collapse on the ribs as mine do. Her one good arm reads grandmother. That...
August 2011
18 posts
1 tag
“she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversation?’ So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the...
http://huntingdogs.tumblr.com/
In The Origami Fields | Sabrina Orah Mark →
where I fold and unfold my left arm into November, my hair into my sister, where the black-gloved woman plays my heart like a crumpled violin, where I stand creased and lusting for paper, where I have no more dead lovers than you, where beautiful girls are always asked for directions, where I keep myself real, flirting with the ventriloquists, where my father holds me like a paper doll, where...
1 tag
from WERE I ADAM, THE POEM I'D WRITE EVE - Bob...
… how you are the beginning
of life as I know it, the going under
in small tufts and rivulets of spring,
the severings I’ve always loved
as seeds are the death of the apple
for now.
“What I heard then was the melody of children at play, nothing but that. And I...”
1 tag
what they did yesterday afternoon. →
warsanshire:
-
they set my aunts house on fire
i cried the way women on tv do
folding at the middle
like a five pound note.
i called the boy who use to love me
tried to ‘okay’ my voice
i said hello
he said warsan, what’s wrong, what’s happened?
i’ve been praying,
and these are what my prayers look like;
dear god
i come from two countries
one is thirsty
the other is on fire
...
“I’m not really interested in page-turners. I love the structure of language...”
– Laura Marling guardian.co.uk
“Why don’t you tell me that ‘if the girl had been worth having she’d have waited...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald (via uhhleeese)
Cottonmouth Country, Louise Glück
kathleenjoy:
Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras. And there were other signs That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us By land: among the pines An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss Reared in the polluted air. Birth, not death, is the hard loss. I know. I also left a skin there.
(via proustitute)
July 2011
23 posts
4 tags
ahuntersheart:
It was when my little brother, who was two and a half years younger than I, died at eighteen months. My mother some days later found his footprints in the yard and tried to build something over it to keep the wind from blowing it away. That’s the most powerful image I’ve ever known.
-A. R. Ammons
“Here my dead father knocks on a little paper door. Here my family murdered in...”
– Hadara Bar-Nadav (via ahuntersheart)
“Body, bundle, country of twigs. Your nine gates opening, closing, spittle wet. A...”
– Hadara Bar-Nadav “ How Soft This Prison is” (Titles and italics from Emily Dickinson)
3 tags
Hop Along “Tibetian Pop Stars”
download 4 new...
1 tag
“The real artist’s work is a surprise to himself.” Robert Henri”
– (via mawakeley)
2 tags
J.L. Stanley, "Catechism for a Witch's Child" →
saturnrising:
When they ask to see your gods show them lines drawn delicately with veins on the underside of a bird’s wing tell them you believe in giant sycamores mottled and stark against a winter sky and in night’s so frozen stars crack open spilling streams of molten ice to earth and tell them how you drank
My friends warn me that you have read the ocean’s old skeleton; they say you stitch the water sounds in different mouths, in other monuments.
creepychick:
there’s madhouse longing in my baby’s eyes she rubs the lamp between her thighs and hopes the genie comes out singing she lives in some forgotten song
nick cave - hold on to yourself
spaceshipspaceship:
The name Crazy Mountains is said to be a shortened form of the name “Crazy Woman Mountains” given them, in compliment to their original Crow name, after a woman who went insane and lived in them after her family was killed in the westward settlement movement.
June 2011
13 posts
“SPRING DUSK DARK SHORE
LONG ISLAND NEW YORK APRIL
SKY OVER PATCHOGUE...”
– Lawrence Ferlinghetti (via mosssleeper)
