Text

Have You Been Long Enough At Table, Leslie Sainz
13K notes
·
View notes
Text




language (or a letter to gaza) | 11.05.2023
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
He rested his forehead on the slope beneath her belly button. She took his skull between her fingers. Devotional. That was the word for two bodies like that.
Coco Mellors, Cleopatra and Frankenstein.
377 notes
·
View notes
Text

06.18.2023 | an ode to being bisexual
177 notes
·
View notes
Text




- Silas Denver Melvin @sweatermuppet, Grit Poetry Collection
29K notes
·
View notes
Text







on shame and yearning (pt.2)
49K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hannah Close in conversation with Andreas Weber (2022)
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
love is stored in the kitchen
ダイナー [“diner”] (2019) dir. mika ninagawa (via @jueki) \ czesław miłosz new and collected poems 1931-2004: “elegy for n.n.” \ @floatingstirnerhead \ しあわせのパン [“bread of happiness”] (2012) dir. yukiko mishima \ trista mateer honeybee \ @whsprings
buy me a coffee
3K notes
·
View notes
Text

Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980; February 17th, 1970
Text ID: I don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though I may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall—like seeking love in a whorehouse.
17K notes
·
View notes
Note
how do you think you can tell if you're in love?
the arrow in your heart
12K notes
·
View notes
Photo





only one of you is going to make it and you’re afraid it’s going to be you, or, alternatively: you are standing by the tragic hero and it is looking rough out there-
( @lasilhouetteinbianco i did it there’s moby. whoo)
A History of My Brief Body, Billy-Ray Belcourt | Antigonick, Sophokles trans. Anne Carson | The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry | Doña Juana “la Loca” (1877), Francisco Pradilla | Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin | THE TRAGIC HERO UPON REACHING THE END OF THE SCRIPT REALIZES HE HAS BEEN DEAD THIS WHOLE TIME, Joan Tierney | Wishbone, Richard Siken | Orpheus and Eurydice, George Frederic Watts | Bitter Water, The Oh Hellos | Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare | YOUR LOVE FINDS ITS WAY BACK, Sierra Mulder | Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus (detail, 1905), John William Waterhouse | Wishbone, Richard Siken | Richard Siken, in an interview with James Hall | Moby Dick, Herman Melville | Weeping Nude (1913-14), Edvard Munch | Love and Pain (1895), Edvard Munch | Metamorphoses, Ovid
[ID: An assortment of various quotes, lyrics, and paintings from a variety of sources.
1. To love someone / is firstly to confess: I’m prepared / to be devastated by you.
2. Ismene: I can help you suffer. // Antigone: No. // Ismene: I can give you reasons not to die. // Antigone: No.
3. And he took me by the hand. But he was still worrying. “It was wrong of you to come. You will suffer. I shall look like I was dead, and that will not be true…” I said nothing.
4. A painting of a young woman dressed in black. She stands in blank despair beside a casket in an open field. She is surrounded by a procession of numerous mourners, as smoke from a behind her rises into the air.
5. What are we staying here for? How long do you / want to sit in this house, eating your heart out?
6. You are kneeling at the water’s throne / When preparing for an ending scene / It’s important that / Swords drop like anchors / Yours will never rise again / I am watching from the cowberries, or / From your mother’s curtains, as if / Through a burial shroud, or
7. And it’s another wrong-man-dies scenario / and we keep doing it, Henry, / keep saying until we get it right… but we / always win and we never quit.
8. A painting of Orpheus and Eurydice at the entrance to Hades. Orpheus, in a toga, reaches out to catch Eurydice as she goes limp and pale, soul having returned to the Underworld. In the background a dead tree trunk can be seen.
9. I am not a fool entire / No, I know what is coming / You will bury me beneath the tree / I climbed when I was a child
10. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, / But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
11. My throat is a beehive pitched into the river. Look! / Look how long my love can hold it’s breath.
12. A painting of Orpheus’ head floating down a river after being torn apart by the Maenads. His face is turned upward, with pale skin and long red hair. His lyre floats beside him, alongside numerous lily pads and lilies.
13. See, we’ve won again / here we are at the place where I get to beg / for it where I get to say, Please,
14. Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.
15. “…Sleeping? Aye, toil how we may, we all sleep on the field. Sleep? Aye, and rust amidst greenness; as last years scythes flung down, and left in the half-cut swathes — Starbuck!” But blanched to a corpse’s hue with despair, the Mate had stolen away.
16. A painting of a nude woman sitting upon her bed, hunched over with her head in her hands and legs sprawled. She appears to be weeping. Her long, dark hair, spills around her shoulders and into her lap.
17. A painting of a woman and a man embracing each other. The woman has warm skin and long red hair, which spills over and contrasts with the man’s pale, grey skin. She buries her face into his nape, and he into her arms.
18. But when she saw him in his hapless plight, / though angry at his scorn, she only grieved. End ID.]
730 notes
·
View notes
Text

this is one of my favourite poems ever. it’s so sad yet hopeful. so strong yet short. it’s dusk… your daughter’s tall… it’s dusk! your daughter’s tall!
20K notes
·
View notes