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[hxlios]

by Daniel Murtagh

[hxlios]

Do you understand? When I am done telling you these stories, when you’re done listening to these stories, I am no longer I, and you are no longer you. In this afternoon we briefly merged into one. After this, you will always carry a bit of me, and I will always carry a bit of you, even if we both forget this conversation.

—Hao Jingfang, ‘Invisible Planets,’ in Invisible Planets: Contemporary Chinese Science Fiction in Translation, tr. & ed. Ken Liu

[hxlios]

here it is a very long collection of poems that have squeezed my heart or even held my hand 🤍

if only the young were trees by mahmoud darwish

the meaning of birds by charles smith

song of the open road by walt whitman

at the kitchen sink by camille a. balla

every day as a wide field, every page by naomi shihab nye

feeding the worms by danusha lameris

still by marc alan di martino

do stones feel by mary oliver

you are who I love by aracelis girmay

the patience of ordinary things by pat schneider

comfort by jennifer k. sweeney

mowing by ada limón

nights in the neighborhood by linda gregg

valentine for enest mann by naomi shihab nye

there are birds here by jamaal may

winter poem by nikki giovanni

I’m feeling fabulous possibly too much so but I love it by mary oliver

shoulders by naomi shihab nye

entrance by rainer maria rilke

what I carried by maggie smith

like a small cafe by mahmoud darwish

another day by greg kuzma

keeping things whole by mark strand

meditations in an emergency by cameron awkward - rich

dead stars by ada limón

to the young who want to die by gwendolyn brooks

the world has need of you ellen bass

you reading this be ready by william stanford

in the country of resurrection by ada limón

the round by stanley kunitz

notes on waiting for the dog to find the perfect place to take a shit while morning cuts through the sky, fresh from another darkness by hanif abdurraqib

late summer after a panic attack by ada limón

on a train by wendy cope

good day by kait rokowski

dudes we did not go through the hassle of getting these fake ids for this jukebox to not have any springsteen by hanif abdurraqib

the cats will know by cesare pavese

the way to keep going in antartica

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sophocles’ antigone (2016 translation by frank nisetich) & ‘lay me down’ by the oh hellos….

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Philip Alexius de László 

Hungarian, 1869-1937

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so many worlds to see through the window

(via)

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Mary Oliver, from Worm Moon in “Twelve Moons”

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Don DeLillo, White Noise

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Let Me Pass This Earth from My Dawn is Only Five Hours Away by Dion Anja (@dionyrtal)

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Psyche Weeping, Kinuko Y. Craft

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Jonathan Safran Foer / John Steinbeck

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When Florence said “I need my golden crown of sorrows, my bloody sword to swing, I need my empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology”

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hands in oil paintings ~

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The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy.

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— February by Margaret Atwood

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Emily Dickinson’s Herbarium.

Dickinson’s favorite flowers include the gentian, the crown imperial, the geranium, the rose, and the Indian pipes that her friend Mabel Todd painted to adorn the cover of the first edition of Dickinson’s poems in 1890. Dickinson also compared herself to a daylily (“red like her auburn hair”). (x)

[hxlios]

Maybe when we die, the first thing we'll say is, "I know this feeling. I was here before"

— Don DeLillo, White Noise