9
The Booksellers (D.W. Young, 2019)
Olena Kalytiak Davis, Shattered Sonnets, Love Cards, and Other Off and Back Handed Importunities
Sharon Olds, True Love
Stephen Crane, In The Desert
Cameron Awkward-Rich, Meditations in an Emergency
ANTIGONE: The fields were wet. They were waiting for something to happen. The whole world was breathless, waiting. I can’t tell you what a roaring noise I seemed to make alone on the road. It bothered me that whatever was waiting, wasn’t waiting for me.
Jean Anouilh, Antigone
Etel Adnan, The Spring Flowers Own & The Manifestations of the Voyage
I’m trying to give you everything I have. But I can’t find it; I can’t find it yet.
Alice Notley, In The Pines
Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
& if I were to forgive you (& I know I could)
who would be left
who would be left
to forgive me?
Hieu Minh Nguyen, Afterwards
Mahmoud Darwish, Mural
Fariha Róisín, How to Care a Ghost
“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”
Shauna Barbosa, GPS
Mahmoud Darwish, Mural
Forough Farrokhzad, Another Birth
repetition in poetry // part i
How you are perceived by people who don’t know you (and have made no effort to change that) is none of your business. You’ll save yourself so much trouble and heartache and disappointment when you can decide for yourself whose opinion matters and helps you grow. Learn to care about the ones that are trying to lift you up instead of the ones that are criticizing you just for the sake of it.
[ID: a pair of purple knitted socks. there is red text stitched on the ankle areas: "i love you" on one pair, and "i'm glad i exist" on the other.]
i made socks!! they take a long time. but it feels very rewarding to carefully make things with my hands that bring warmth and protection. the words are from "the orange" by wendy cope.
“Find me a house where no one can ever come. I like talking to you, but to no one else in the whole world.”
— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Lytton Strachey wr. c. September 1925 (via violentwavesofemotion)
This is what “beauty drawn from and in the midst of cyberpunk dystopia” looks like, Black Mirror WISHES-
“This soul is not yet at peace with itself, one must be tender with it…there may be a treasure in that soul.”
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, tr. Constance Garnett | The Brothers Karamazov
(via abandonarium)
