contremineur - Tumblr blog

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via exercisedestyle (washed out since August 2016)

by Petros Koublis 

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Karmay Ngai by Zach Chang for Marie Claire China (May 2014)

via the censored hollowcharlesmarlow

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Sus Pe Culmea Dealului

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I know a woman who calls me every week or so when she has something on her mind and starts by saying I have something to talk about but let’s start by talking about something else. It helps her get it out. So I ask her how she is and she says okay and tells me about some poet or politician she’s met and how he wasn’t at all what she expected or about the DC weather, the traffic jams, the dirty Metro. Sometimes she never gets around to her point at all, but ends by saying Now I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Last week I had a fever for four days and the world took on a kind of flickering darkness— it seemed so thin, so insubstantial, not the kind of place a person could live. This guy who came to the card game last night, he says he dreams of a dead friend all the time, this friend walks out of a black alley, walks always in a kind of shadow. I asked him what it’s like to be dead, the guy said, fumbling a face-down card, and he said it’s not a place, heaven, it’s a feeling, the feeling of knowing everything you never knew. Then the friend told him one of the numbers to play this week in Megabucks. Sometimes, though, she does get around to what’s on her mind— a sadness for her little sister, killed in a wreck, or a fear that we won’t see each other again, won’t ever feel whatever that was we felt when we were making love. I don’t know if we will. I don’t know if she will ever see her little sister again except in dreams, which is somewhere, I guess. The number was eight.

Christian Barter, Something else (in ‘The singers I prefer’, CavanKerry Press 2005)

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by stonelantern (overexposed since July 2021)

Dark water by stonelantern

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by stonelantern (on the rocks since July 2021)

Stonemask and leaf by stonelantern

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Alexander Danilovich Grinberg | Portrait of Russian Silent Film Actor Vera Kholodnaya, circa 1914

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from the disappeared memoryslandscape via stonelantern (ecluded since July 2021)

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Tonight I can write the saddest lines I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Pablo Neruda (tr. W.S. Merwin), from Tonight I can write (in Twenty love poems and a song of despair, Jonathan Cape 2004)

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György Kepes - Juliet with One Peacock Feather Eye, Chicago (1937)

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from stonelantern (choppy since July 2021)

Francis James Mortimer, Seascape

see https://www.siep.org.au/General/Photo_Society_Mortimer.html

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by stonelantern (nacreous since July 2021)

Shell by stonelantern

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Tu dois tenir ta langue et ne pas dire à tout le monde ce que tu penses vraiment

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Yes love, I must confess I’m at it again, struggling in vain with my Greek declensions. I know it’s common, but I want to show you what I found in Praxeis Apostolon, chapter one, verse twenty-four: this exquisite epithet, kardiognosta. Forget briefly its context, that the Eleven, genuflecting, implore the Lord to give wisdom. Between Justus and Matthias, who replaces Judas? Let this word pass to private sharpness toward love’s dominion. Let me kiss it across your collarbones— knower of hearts. Its sweetness fills my mouth and our twin lots, as if they’d chosen both.

Brett Foster, Devotion: For our bodies (from ‘The garbage eater’, Triquarterly 2011)

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