#there's such poetry to Griffith

[iregretdoing]

"You belong to me."

"Those who die on the battlefield are not royalty, nobility, or commoners. They are the defeated, who die."

"I feel no responsibility to comrades who've lost lives under my command. Because they chose to fight in each battle.. Just as I chose this. But if there is something that... I can do for them. Something I can do for the dead... Then it is to win. I must keep winning to attain my dream. To realize my dream, I will perch on top of their corpses.. It is a blood-smeared dream, after all. I don't regret or feel guilty about it."

"Do I need to give you a reason each time I risk my life for your sake?"

"While many can pursue their dreams in solitude, other dreams are like great storms blowing hundreds, even thousands of dreams apart in their wake. Dreams breathe life into men and can cage them in suffering. Men live and die by their dreams. But long after they have been abandoned they still smolder deep in men's hearts. Some see nothing more than life and death. They are dead, for they have no dreams."

"In this world, some people born are like keys that move the world and exist having no connection to the social hierarchy established by man."

"It is my perception, that a true friend never relies on another's dream. A person with the potential to be my true friend, must be able to find his reason for life without my help. And, he would have to put his heart and soul into protecting his dream. He would never hesitate to fight for his dream, even against me. For me, a true friend is one who stands equal on those terms."

Among thousands of comrades and ten thousand enemies, only you... only you made me forget everything that I wanted.

"I'd dream, that on nights of the full moon, I'd become a small child and find myself embraced with a nostalgic warmth... But... When I wake from the dream... All that remains is a vague sense of longing...

And that, too, soon fades away - along with a single tear, like morning dew."

[havingapoemwithyou]

another age by Rachel Eliza Griffiths

[geryone]

Seeing the Body, Rachel Eliza Griffiths

[firstfullmoon]

Rachel Eliza Griffiths, “Good Mother”

[paint-it-dead]

-Richard Siken, Crush

[yourbelgianthings]

amber gris and devo la main

speed of the sound of loneliness (nanci griffith) / mirage (luis g. dato) / our lady, star of the sea by bernadette carstensen / great white shark / in the house by the sea (stacie cassation)

for eliot @yardsards

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

BCWeek2023 - Day 3: a look back (roles through 2015)

James Griffith/Third Star (2010)

There is no way for me to reckon the effect you have upon my heart;

I would wrap myself inside your bittersweet if it was possible.

Sweeter than any chocolate that I could ever crave,

The sad, honey taste of you to augment with my tears.

(poetry by me; gifs as credited)

Happy Birthday James💔Happy Birthday Benedict💗

@elennemigo

[surroundedbypearls]

‘Shay and Adam’s music caught the tide and the sun. Adam submerged in a sunbeam, Shay emerged shining, sleek like sea glass.’

Shay relaxed and floated on his back, spreading his arms out wide. Adam sat and dipped his legs in, wincing at the initial shock of cold. But it wasn’t so bad; only a second or two submerged, and he felt he was getting used to it. So he pushed himself from the rocks and splashed in, face dipping under the water, everything disappearing, before he popped back up with a gasp.

He rubbed at his eyes, blinking the water from his eyelashes before he kicked his way forward. He swam under a sunbeam, the heat of it flooding his cropped hair and the back of his neck, before it was gone again.

Shay swam the length of the pool, dipping in and out and taking a long breath as he emerged for air, shining and beautiful. Adam had thought he belonged growing in the greenhouse, like a blossom, but maybe he belonged in the sea, sleek and sharp with eyes like sea glass.

Another blackout poem from my WIP, ‘To Catch the Sea’! In this chapter, Adam and Shay go swimming together and nearly almost have a kiss.

More on To Catch the Sea here! Leave a comment or an ask to be added to the taglist.

[llovelymoonn]

favourite reads in september so far

aldo amparán the calling

a.r. ammons september drift

haruki murakami (tr. jay rubin) little green monster

kenzie allen end of the trail

katrina moinet nowhere else i need to be

rachel eliza griffith seeing the body: “illusion”

zach williams wood sorrel house

elizabeth alexander body of life: “equinox”

javier zamora second attempt crossing

kofi

[mysteryiousskin]

Oh to be a tween in the 70s with an amazing friend group

[devious-crow]

castle in the sky

reaching through a bloody thick covering

determination unwavering

touching lifeless warm waves

of time and space..

unraveled and soulless I reach

out into myself, I seek

the selves that I buried a whole lot ago with no flinch

yet still the figments fill me up with meek

excitement, joy and sadness

uncalled, unnamed

with no hands to pave the right way

the me that died at thirteen

then at fourteen and fifteen

and still, without proper inspection

keeps dying, until.. keeps piling, until

i reach The myself:

The mozaic collection

like a stained vivid bright window glass

above the stairs to the castle safe

with fragments no longer mine, but alas

head to toe I cover myself

with things that I borrow and steal

fight for, rage seething, until

the things that are taken from me

create the me, the me crashing, surreal

the me that wishes for flight

trying to carry those bodies of mine

stainless steel, lightless stage, red cabernet

broken shears of a sheep with no shepherd

forced forever to grow, overflow with the hate

and fall prey to carnivorous leopards

until I find the strength

build up clotted bricks

to stand up on two feet

search the sadness not meek

joy left behind, useless thing

and myself, where I thought belongs

the soul I was looking for

all these years, reoccurring thorn

in my side, hurting scab

by the hands of mine all along

i needed to shape my own soul

but from scratch

build the stairs, fall, disheveled and tense

reach the break a countless times

i abandon the path that of walking on heads

the piling of corpses, my own, younger selves

these sad faces of mine

ill cherish and bury them six feet deep

shedding a tear - see a tight road

sinless path now complete

for me to approach castle's door

[rachelspoetrycorner]

Heart of Darkness (2019) by Rachel Eliza Griffiths

In Episode 172, Rachel brings a poet that shares her name, with a poem in honor of Cecil Taylor

Rachel: In an interview, she was asked if she believed that writing could heal and she said, "Writing this book didn't and doesn't heal my grief. It armed me with tools, sure, and showed me so much about who I am and who I am becoming. I'd throw every copy of this book in the trash if I could pick up the phone and hear my mother ask me what I'm cooking for dinner. [...] Writing makes me feel embodied and empowered because of the listening it requires. I do believe listening can be healing."

Rachel mentions several of Griffiths' other creations (incuding the poem Good Mother, which was simply too much at the moment for obvious reasons). You can hear all of that here: Rachel Beef from 24:16 - 32:48

[havingapoemwithyou]

chosen family by Rachel Eliza Griffiths

[geryone]

Seeing the Body, Rachel Eliza Griffiths

[firstfullmoon]

Rachel Eliza Griffiths, “Another Age,” in Seeing the Body

[thequietabsolute]

The Habit of Art // Alan Bennett

The Habit of Art is a 2009 play by English playwright Alan Bennett, centred on a fictional meeting between W. H. Auden and Benjamin Britten while Britten is composing the opera Death in Venice. It premiered on 5 November 2009 at the Lyttelton Theatre at the Royal National Theatre, with the central roles filled by Alex Jennings as Britten and Richard Griffiths as Auden (the latter replacing Michael Gambon, who had to withdraw from the production due to minor ill health).