June 2012
14 posts
“Open the book of tales you knew by heart,
begin driving the old roads again,...”
– Adrienne Rich, the opening of “Living Memory” (via wwnorton)
“For it is love that I am seeking for,
But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind
That...”
– W. B. Yeats, from “The Shadowy Waters” (via litverve)
May 2012
96 posts
apoetreflects:
Will you understand if not forgive that I expect to be loved beyond deserving, as always?
—Stephen Dunn, closing lines from “Letter Home” in New & Selected Poems: 1974-1994 (W. W. Norton & Co., 1994)
6 tags
A Man by Nina Cassian
While fighting for his country, he lost an arm and was suddenly afraid;
From now on, I shall only be able to do things by halves. I shall reap half a harvest. I shall be able to play either the tune or the accompaniment on the piano, but never both parts together. I shall be able to bang with only one fist on doors, and worst of all I shall only be able to half hold my love… close to...
“I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he...”
– Emily Brontë (via bavarde)
6 tags
Searching for Moons by Carol Ann Duffy
There is something to be said but I, for one, forget. That star went out more years ago than we can count. Its ghosts see dinosaurs. The brain says No to the Universe, Prove it, but the heart is susceptible, pining for a look, a kind word. Some are brought to their knees, pleading in dead language at a deaf ear. Spaceships float in nothing in the dark, searching for moons to worship with their...
4 tags
“There is a globe welling up inside of me.
Mountain ranges ridging my skin,...”
– Catherine Pierce, “Because I’ll Never Swim in Every Ocean”
“We pick them in the hot
slow-motion of midmorning.”
– Robert Hass, “Picking Blackberries with a Friend Who Has Been Reading Jacques Lacan” (via writethatshitdown)
4 tags
“I feel as if I’m always on the verge of waking up.”
– Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via lunaoki)
6 tags
If They Come in the Night by Marge Piercy
Long ago on a night of danger and vigil a friend said, why are you happy? He explained (we lay together on a cold hard floor) what prison meant because he had done time, and I talked of the death of friends. Why are you happy then, he asked, close to angry. I said, I like my life. If I have to give it back, if they take it from me, let me not feel I wasted any, let me not feel I forgot to love...
1 tag
1 tag
“I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth...”
– Raymond Carver, “Elephant And Other Stories”
“If you stuff yourself full of poems, essays, plays, stories, novels, films,...”
– RAY BRADBURY (via writersof)
4 tags
3 tags
2 tags
5 tags
“I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,...”
– Mary Oliver
4 tags
