(Source: adamonroe, via onyourownsidethistime)
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.By Mary Oliver
"we have entered
the realm of the absurd. you are taking the dog.
we’ll call this a breakup poem. we’ll call this the
quiet disintegration of a longer ride.
what we once called home.
the house gets emptier and emptier.
in the end you’re not here."
the realm of the absurd. you are taking the dog.
we’ll call this a breakup poem. we’ll call this the
quiet disintegration of a longer ride.
what we once called home.
the house gets emptier and emptier.
in the end you’re not here."
— Arianne Zwartjes, excerpt from we don’t speak or speak only of butter & eggs (via krrnpoetry)
(via krrnpoetry)
for women who are difficult to love | Warsan Shire
you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.
"I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you. I want to ride in the swing of your hips. My fingers will dig in you like quotation marks, blazing your limbs into parts of speech."
—
Jeffrey McDaniel (via transformfeminism)
um
that’s really hot
hi
hi
(via meimagino)(via meimagino)
(Source: theglasschild, via dizzythoughtsandrecklesslives)
(TW: Codependence)
Loneliness is Becoming On Me, And I am Becoming Myself Again
I’ve hit upon the reason
why
a certain breed of loneliness
feels like taking a deep breath after diving
it is the ache to be needed, to be
all the sun rises and sets on
for someone.
It is the hollow that comes
from emptying
a chamber never meant to be filled. It is
isolation,
in the same sense that
a house is isolation from the cold
or the ground from falling.
I was dying;
now I’ve stopped;
and it hurts.
I grok this feeling, deeply. But the knightling really does write it down in a way that hurts well.
"As we stray further from love
We multiply the words,
Words and sentences long and orderly.
Had we remained together
We could have become a silence."
We multiply the words,
Words and sentences long and orderly.
Had we remained together
We could have become a silence."
—
Yehuda Amichai (via nezua)
whenever I read an Amichai piece or quote I am reminded of the call to him in an Agha Shahid Ali poem:
‘I too saw everything as you did, O Amichai…’
(via agonyoftheleaves)(Source: christinacochina, via agonyoftheleaves)
"May Outside, the wind
tears at the trees;
dark comes into the room
like a stranger
and we are touched
by a huge loneliness."
tears at the trees;
dark comes into the room
like a stranger
and we are touched
by a huge loneliness."
— May Sarton, from
Landscape Pursued by a Cloud (via youreyesblazeout)
from Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out by Richard Siken
"When I dream of you,
you’re always facing away,
not knowing I’m behind you,
and your eyes are down,
as if you’ve given yourself
all over to listening.
I try to reach out,
but I only make shadows
of my hands across your back.
I’m afraid to speak,
afraid you stand listening
for a sound I’d never make.
you’re always facing away,
not knowing I’m behind you,
and your eyes are down,
as if you’ve given yourself
all over to listening.
I try to reach out,
but I only make shadows
of my hands across your back.
I’m afraid to speak,
afraid you stand listening
for a sound I’d never make.
— Peregrine (via youreyesblazeout)
"Sometimes I feel like a body of water
that desires to break free from these levee walls.
I’m damned if I do,
I’m dammed if I don’t."
that desires to break free from these levee walls.
I’m damned if I do,
I’m dammed if I don’t."
— Ruel Galinato (via ruelgalinato)
"Love came,
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and
encircled my heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw one thing.
Love’s name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe…
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me
is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to love."
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and
encircled my heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw one thing.
Love’s name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe…
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me
is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to love."
— Rumi (via thefreenomad)
(Source: geeandem, via hoodoothatvoodoo)
"Your body told me in a dream it’s never been afraid of anything."
— Richard Siken, from “Detail of the Woods” (via proustitute)
(via beinlovewithyourlife)
