May 2012
16 posts
1 tag
today was a good day: 4.30.12
“goodnight routine: shake out your sheets, lay in bed on your back, think of 5 positives from your day, concentrate on your breathing, dream.”
— YOUAREREMARKABLE
1. you guys, I HAVE ALMOST SURVIVED THE IMPOSSIBLE. after 15 thursdays of misery, only one to go + yeah, so i have no idea what i want from life. or maybe i do but i just don’t know how to get there yet. but who in the world...
we get new cells | kate horowitz
“every seven years,” she said, “not all at once, of course.” she was re-testing her food allergies, sneaking peanut butter cups past her immune system on a saturday night. so far the reese’s had been safe, but the imitation crab meat on a seaweed salad had meant five hours in the emergency room. i thought about the hot spear of your voice seven years ago, and how if...
April 2012
22 posts
i have to tell you | dorothea grossman
i have to tell you, there are times when the sun strikes me like a gong, and i remember everything, even your ears.
1 tag
this weekend was a good weekend: 4.20.12 - 4.22.12
“goodnight routine: shake out your sheets, lay in bed on your back, think of 5 positives from your day, concentrate on your breathing, dream.”
— YOUAREREMARKABLE
1. a weekend away from tuscaloosa + my sweet, sweet charlie 2. happy birthday, sasser! + “i’m glad it’s your birthday. happy birthday to you! yes, we’re going to a party, party.” 3. a pretty epic...
dwelling | li-young lee
as though touching her might make him known to himself as though his hand moving over her body might find who he is, as though he lay inside her, a country his hand’s traveling uncovered as though such a country arose continually up out of her to meet his hand’s setting forth and setting forth. and the places on her body have no names. and she is what’s immense about the night....
1 tag
today was a good day: 4.19.12
“goodnight routine: shake out your sheets, lay in bed on your back, think of 5 positives from your day, concentrate on your breathing, dream.”
— YOUAREREMARKABLE
1. having time to actually make myself presentable this morning before work 2. “what avail are forty freedoms without a blank spot on the map?” 3. it’s been one year since biking away loneliness, two since finding...
in speaking of the space between actions | jessica...
grammatolatry | holdonmagnolia
in the split seconds before come and get it becomes oh god don’t stop,
i picture how many strands of your hair i can fit in one fist and, of those, how many will break loose with your first thrust and find themselves stray, stuck to our bodies like wet stars.
he told her i fuck like a man.
i say someone had to.
1 tag
today was a good day: 4.18.12
“goodnight routine: shake out your sheets, lay in bed on your back, think of 5 positives from your day, concentrate on your breathing, dream.”
— YOUAREREMARKABLE
1. enjoying looking back on old days so much that i thought i’d start writing things down again + that it is not two years ago anymore 2. a hard day at work with a sense of accomplishment at the end, which has been difficult to...
photograph | andrea gibson
so wherever you are, i hope you’re happy i really do. i hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight. i hope you finally found a way to quit smoking. i hope your lungs are open and breathing this life. i hope there’s a kite in your hand that’s flying all the way up to orion and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out. i hope you’re smiling like god is...
ghazal: what love takes | juliet p. howard
grammatolatry:
I’m sleeping as I write this; you’re standing over me crying while Ella belts out: No, no they can’t take that away from me
If this is all I can get, your hand on my shoulder in the dream, lips warm against my neck, I’ll take that
The alarm clock becomes enemy; I press snooze every few minutes, search for you and finally press stop when I can’t take it any more
Please don’t...
untitled | bhartrihari
she who is always in my thoughts prefers another man, and does not think of me. yet he seeks for another’s love, not hers; and some poor girl is grieving for my sake. why then, the devil take both her and him; and love; and her; and me.
recipe for happiness khaborovsk or anyplace |...
one grand boulevard with trees with one grand cafe in sun with strong black coffee in very small cups. one not necessarily very beautiful man or woman who loves you. one fine day.
david whyte | house of belonging
sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
10 tags
salina | the avett brothers
salina, i’m as nowhere as i can be could you add some somewhere to me? ah, kansas, i’m kneeling, ah, kansas, please cleveland, i ain’t never felt nothing so strong been believing the words to my songs ohio, i’m leaving, ohio, i’m gone from town to town and state to state there’s people everywhere that try to capture us we stole the cash and left our...
you do not have to love me | leonard cohen
you do not have to love me just because you are all the women i have ever wanted i was born to follow you every night while i am still the many men who love you i meet you at a table i take your fist between my hands in a solemn taxi i wake up alone my hand on your absense in hotel discipline i wrote all these songs for you i burned red and black candles shaped like a man and a woman i married the...
ways of talking | ha jin
we used to like talking about grief our journals and letters were packed with losses, complaints, and sorrows. even if there was no grief we wouldn’t stop lamenting as though longing for the charm of a distressed face. then we couldn’t help expressing grief so many things descended without warning: labor wasted, loves lost, houses gone, marriages broken, friends estranged, ambitions worn away by...
7 tags
grief calls us to the things of this world |...
The morning air is all awash with angels —Richard Wilbur, “Love Calls Us to the Things of This World” the eyes open to a blue telephone in the bathroom of this five-star hotel. i wonder whom i should call? a plumber, proctologist, urologist, or priest? who is blessed among us and most deserves the first call? i choose my father because he’s astounded by bathroom telephones....
sonnet | marie ponsot
it haunts us, the misappropriated flesh, be it pelops’ shoulder after demeter’s feast or adam’s rib supporting eve’s new breasts, or the nameless root of gilgamesh. who am i that a given beast must die to stake the smoulder of my blood or eyes? were only milk, fruit, honey to supply my table, i would not starve but thrive. but then the richer goods i misappropriate (time...
i imagine the gods | jack gilbert
i imagine the gods saying, we will make it up to you. we will give you three wishes, they say. let me see the squirrels again, i tell them. let me eat some of the great hog stuffed and roasted on its giant spit and put out, steaming, into the winter of my neighborhood when i was usually too broke to afford even the hundred grams i ate so happily walking up the cobbles, past the street of...
ain't no cure | rishma dunlop
i slice oranges in the kitchen. the countertop worn, notched with the story of the knife. i’ve been reading ovid’s “the cure for love.” you circle my waist with your arms — kiss the back of my neck. i remember who we were — the girl and boy on the front porch cooling our heels on our way to the grave. we believed we could make something in the dark.
