December 2010
21 posts
“Place your hands in mine.
I’m ready to be the strength
you have waited for.”
– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
“Looking up into the night sky is looking into infinity — distance is...”
– The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams. (via fuckyeahexistentialism)
chrstn:
“Here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from.”
~ Richard Siken, Saying Your Names
dec 08, Brittany Jones →
poetry365:
You don’t have to say you love me.. Say, “I’ve noticed darling, I can’t breathe if you’re not around. And I’m going to try and make this forever But, I know there are no guarantees. And I’m not sure we’ll always understand each other But, you’ll always be The first person I look for when I enter a room And I’ll always want to share my coffee with you And I promise to keep your name...
The Falling, Jane Hirshfield →
poetry365:
You turn towards meteor showers in August, wishing yourself like that: bright and burning wholly out. When feeling finally comes it is that falling, matter breaking away from air, the sound of crickets moving through the grass like fire— and the strangely twisted metal in the field that a child finds: residue, crown. Then there’s the story of the Chinese sage, in anger and despair,...
She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep, Robert... →
poetry365:
She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half words whispered low: As earth stirs in her winter sleep And puts out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow.
Poetry 365: A Woman Clings to the Idea of What... →
(after Leon Stokesbury and Vermeer) She reads the whole note once again. We can tell it is winter from the ermine— lined jacket she wears indoors.In the morning when he left he left his scent inside the rain— dampened air.She was a kind of woman who could cling to, if she had wanted,…
Poetry 365: The Pure Loneliness, Michael Ryan →
Late at night, when you’re so lonely
your shoulders lean to the center of your body,
you call no one and you don’t call out.
This is dignity. This is the pure loneliness
that made Christ think he was God.
This is why lunatics smile at their thoughts.
Even the best moment, as you slip …
Beso Español, M. Looze
poetry365:
She kisses me in a Spanish tongue— tilde touches teeth, waves roll over the margins of my mouth. I devour her México: swallow her vowels, grip her diction— edge of desert on her lips. Her words form ropes like loping lassos— she is vaquero. I stand voiceless, tided up tight, lost in a language I barely know.
Skin to skin messaging, Christine Bernardo
poetry365:
please let it always end this way: staying up late, both of us soft and warm, writing words on each other’s backs with our fingers like a lazy southern drawl. and me with puckered brow, trying hard to concentrate on semantics and failing miserably each time, because you with small grin obliterate everything else with each tiny delicate stroke. -http://chrstn.tumblr.com
“Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is...”
– Laozi, Tao Te Ching (via blogut)
“I have scars on my hands from touching certain people.”
– J.D. Salinger (via apathie, cockmouth) (via suzywire)
