April 2012
83 posts
3 tags
3 tags
“I hit the intersections where your shoulders meet your neck, passing through the...”
– Pulse, Shane Koyczan
2 tags
Things that were beautiful today (April 29th)
The woman with no shoes and the girl holding on to her cat as if the world was falling on her toes
Hearing your voice through the computer screen. It sounded like envelopes burning in the fire, wrinkling and shivering. It felt like roasted almonds. There was nothing I could do, but let it wrap around me and steal winter away. I don’t think...
4 tags
2 tags
“I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to...”
– Tyler Knott Gregson (via thewalnutletters)
1 tag
“my emptiness has a lake in it deep and watery
with several temperaments ...”
– Deborah Landau, Dear Someone
1 tag
“I put it down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much.”
– Sandra Cisneros, The House On Mango Street
1 tag
Things that were beautiful about today (April 26th)
The songs that came from the fireplace and through the water-torn pipes. They made my fears go away for a while, and that itself was quite a lot.
There should be more, but that’s really all. There’s nothing else. There should be more.
1 tag
“There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street...”
– Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
4 tags
(IV)
There are no more blank pages, I have filled them all with my screams and hammers, all in the geography of the night or in the mornings when there is still no light, but the one melting the wax of these candles, They smell of you and they reek of you and the death of seaweed at the witching hour, yet they are better than the obtuse drills of table side lamps and night lights, dense with ...
1 tag
Things that were beautiful today (April 23)
The little ant that roamed restlessly on a young leaf, confused, or maybe just thinking of what to eat next, where to sleep tonight, how to pay the every growing electricity and phone bills. I told him everything would be okay, but I don’t think he was listening.
Finger twitches, oh how you sleep so gracefully, with the taste of terracotta...
1 tag
“I order an outline of you: dash
chalk to make your bedroom,
telephone table,...”
– Jocelyn Casey-Whiteman, “Stasi and the Playwright”
1 tag
things that were beautiful about today (april 22nd)
falling in love with the trees. the old ones that reached the tip of the sky and the young ones we planted (happy earth day!)
watching the children with dancer eyes, the little girl with raspberry hair and rosy cheeks who smiled so often that I was convinced the world might not be so bad after all.
feeling something I haven’t felt for...
1 tag
(I)
I ache for you, recently, for your skin to inch across the cold ground, the shallow pores that veer your anatomy into elder trees, arched like a sleeping willow in alder groves and ivy spines awakening,
For the thesaurus to lend me words, the language of hands writing letters across the bark, at night, sometimes about love, but mostly death and the fear of disorder, of displacing our...
1 tag
If I chose books based on their descriptions, I would never read a single book.
1 tag
the apples are bruised the way you left them, by the bedside table on the 11th floor of my resonating mind.
in 10 years, they will sink their rotten teeth into my throat and i will never know why.
1 tag
Things that were beautiful about today (April 20th)
The long drive to my childhood town with my mother, the sweet coated conversations and the laughs. Also, the silence in between, when the wind seeping through the windows was all you could hear.
The smell of licorice soap that still lingered in my bag from a week ago (even though it gave me a headache every time the wind spread it around)
...
2 tags
1 tag
“A postcard. Neat handwriting fills the rectangle.
Half my days I cannot bear...”
– Michael Ondaatje, “The English Patient”
1 tag
You are an ocean wave which wavers, back and forth, to and fro cruelly, eroding the cream of the sand, until it has all been tainted, poisoned in the darkness of war.
Writings for Winter: the holes in our only hearts →
writingsforwinter:
our parents,
they understand
the holes in our hearts
and the way we bite our lips
and clutch our knees;
we think they don’t
but they really do.
i have seen my mother
dancing with my father in the other room
both of them with their eyes closed
and when the music stopped
he held her and his hands were shaking,
their love for each other
spilled like water from their...
1 tag
(18) →
Where can these words take you? Truthfully, I suppose nowhere. They can dig holes in your own skin, and there are times in the skin of others, but they are nothing. You cannot hold these words like a hand, they will only burn you. They will ignite a fire that drives through forests in such salacious movements, lathered by the darkness of an umbra, until there is nothing. They told me that language...
1 tag
“What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness.”
– Leo Tolstoy
I feel really out of it. I’m exhausted from not being able to do anything.
1 tag
“Trying to explain
how camellias spoil and bloom at the same time,
how their...”
– Dina Ben-Lev, from “Driving”
1 tag
Undereye bags Do you need a cigarette? No thank you (Those things kill, don’t they?) Diet Coke? No thank you (I don’t think that’s too good for you either) Keeps you thin, she says (her thighs are beautiful, she looks flawless) Too much gas, I say Her left thigh twitches, stern and rigid (a skeleton) I take a sip from hers No second glance, but an artful smile Life is bothersome What? Still no...
1 tag
things that were beautiful today (april 17th)
• the smallest gala apple in the bag, with red freckles and shallow birthmarks, which to my surprise i was unable to eat. for now, it rests in my fridge with a paper sign saying “do not eat me, please.”
• reading a short story set in nova scotia and visiting through my mind. it’s been over 5 years since we left, but i could still...
1 tag
And she moved along. Continued in her path, absent, but dreamy. She did not have friends, but she was never alone. She was parallel to the trees and consectutive with the ground, the earth. Even the stars. She wanted to keep them close to her, for the wintertime when the city smoke lay like covers, a wall blocking her from their light. She would kneel by her window with an envelope in her hand and...
2 tags
1 tag
Sometimes I walk, without stopping as far as I can go, until my feet swell and my arms stop bouncing back and forth. There is nothing to run away from anymore, I know this. But I still keep walking, sometimes in the opposite direction of where I need to go and usually, I find a temporary home where I keep my thoughts and collections of simple things that cannot be held.
Soon, this will become a...
1 tag
“If you stay we can
figure out how long it takes.
The way you kiss me around...”
– Brett Elizabeth Jenkins, Waiting For Rain
1 tag
“There was such an incredible logic to kissing, such a metal-to-magnet pull...”
– Ann Patchett, Bel Canto
1 tag
Things that were beautiful today (April 12th)
The thunder that rumpled the sky and caused the houses to tremble; the quiet shivers under the covers while watching the rain seep down the windows, making patterns in a language that could only be read, but never spoken.
The fireplace that held chromatic flames, drawing me closer, and closer until I could feel my skin burn in demur.
Lighting a...
duchessofsass:
My Father’s Father by The Civil...
1 tag
There is always a smile waiting around the corner, behind stop signs and under doorways. It always belongs to a stranger, but it is never strange and it’s heart-aching because I cannot say thank you, I can only smile back and hope they know.
