October 2011
4 posts
5 tags
4 tags
swallowing hatchets, handle first
there is some place where he doesn’t recognize anybody’s voice,
and it’s here where he wishes he were right now.
By Anis Mojgani
7 tags
Fifteen Minutes With You: "Two Birds" by Andrea... →
“Love is the only war worth dying for.” —Derrick Brown
When you ran for the border I spent three months calling your name ‘til I watched your feet leave our country and I bunkered down in your cheerleader pajamas to stare at our photograph of the two birds.
Two birds.
Give me one stone, or a rifle.
I’ll collect the feathers from the ground to make pens to write poems to Obama.
Remember how we...
September 2011
12 posts
7 tags
“Maybe I need you the way that big moon needs that open sea,
Maybe I didn’t even...”
– Andrea Gibson “Maybe I Need You” (via bevthegreat)
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“When the hangman of tomorrow comes to hang the sun in it’s daily execution, say...”
– “Milos” by Anis Mojgani.
I think always of you.
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“She did not think his chest a well.
Did not wish to cast him, to armor his...”
– Megan Thoma, excerpt from Weight (via holdonmagnolia)
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“Two years he walks the earth. No phone, no pool, no pets, no cigarettes....”
– Alexander Supertramp, May 1992/Jon Krakauer (Into the Wild)
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“Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors…...”
– The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls by Emilie Autumn (via emilieautumnliddel)
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“I hear the weight of the river all the time. It creaks beneath the voices, like...”
– The Farming of Bones, Edwidge Danticat (via sylvanslang)
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August 2011
12 posts
4 tags
The Hidden Chamber
Do not fear the ghosts in this house; they are the least of your worries. Personally I find the noises they make reassuring, The creaks and footsteps in the night, their little tricks of hiding things, or moving them, I find endearing, not upsettling. It makes the place feel so much more like home. Inhabited. Apart from ghosts nothing lives here for long. No cats, no mice, no flies, no dreams, no...
3 tags
Communion
I know a boy who called his girlfriend’s body a “crime scene.” Dad, my body is a crime scene. My body is lint and gasoline and matchstick. My body is a brush fire. It’s ticking, Dad, a slow alarm. I have rain boots. Lots of them. It isn’t raining anymore. The words are coming back, Dad. The way they fit and jump in the mouth. I want ice cream and long letters. I want to read long love letters but...
3 tags
The Acceptance
I would like to thank first of all my asthmatic lungs,
my inadequacy in the bedroom,
my dark Texas reckless streak and waning night vision
that make awareness of my own mortality possible.
Next, I would like to thank my constant nightmares
for their vivid, arresting creativity—
their cheerful execution of ritual disembowelment,
their lifelike rendering of flesh-eating animatronic bunnies,
...
3 tags
After We Saw Kids Pointing At That Dead Baby Whale...
Now that Joni Mitchell lyrics have started to make sense to you.
Now that your beard is no longer a fashion statement,
but a crude three-dimensional graph illustrating
the number of years you pictured her lips while failing her.
Now that you’ve cried so hard and long the 4th Street
beggars are pressing quarters into your palms.
You know how good it can feel, in its own way,
to be so...
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Rare Words
rosettes:
acosmist - One who believes that nothing exists paralian - A person who lives near the sea aureate - Pertaining to the fancy or flowery words used by poets dwale - To wander about deliriously sabaism - The worship of stars dysphoria - An unwell feeling aubade - A love song which is sung at dawn eumoirous - Happiness due to being honest and wholesome mimp - To speak in a prissy manner,...
4 tags
Caesarian
I was born wrong.
I did so much turning inside of my mother,
when I came out, the tube
that was meant to feed me had become a noose;
broke my legs, nearly strangled me.
Julius Caesar was born this way.
there was something wrong with him too:
he believed he could generate law through conquering
We’re not supposed to dream that big.
When I grow up
I want to be Saturn
because it looks...
3 tags
1981
I learned the word disaster meant against the stars,
learned it did not apply to this world; the sky intended
every cruelty.
I watched the boy with no legs draw
pictures of feet for an hour in Study Hall.
In the hall
of my uncle’s rest home I heard the paper voice of a man
so old he’d forgotten he was blind. When a nurse passed
his door, he’d ask “Turn the lights on, would you?”
I learned...
4 tags
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Southwest of the River
There was a window in the bedroom. Her bed was beneath it. In the afternoon and with the lamp off we stretched on the mattress. Sometimes touching each other, sometimes not. Sometimes our fingers just lingered, the day lying across us and the walls, the color of the walls mixing with the sun’s dead empty light. It made everything in the room white. Soft. Open. That’s what I remember. By Anis...
4 tags
The Fury of Beautiful Bones
Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread for an old grandfather. Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love. Oh sing, bone bag man, sing. Your head is what I remember that August you were in love with another woman but that didn’t matter. I was the guy of your bones, your fingers long and nubby, your forehead a beacon, bare as marble and I...
3 tags
For My Lover, Returning to His Wife
She is all there. She was melted carefully down for you and cast up from your childhood, cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies.
She has always been there, my darling. She is, in fact, exquisite. Fireworks in the dull middle of February and as real as a cast-iron pot.
Let’s face it, I have been momentary. vA luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor. My hair rising like smoke from...
July 2011
40 posts
4 tags
spaced: I. Sun-song: the conscious parts grafting... →
babyjaneis-a-bside:
I. Sun-song: the conscious parts grafting to Hell. II. Ghost. Something holy in my spinal cord, a bird. An atonal collapse in the dream. A screaming diamond, bone-treetops. Strange daylight in a century of night. I smear paint on blades of grass: my smoking bird,...
“Every word was once a poem.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson (via teachingliteracy)
“I became a criminal when I fell in love.
Before that I was a waitress.
I...”
– Louise Glück, Siren (via grammatolatry)
“12.
On a high-cloud day, you could drown in sky
round here. You see the gentle...”
– George Szirtes, ‘Backwaters: Norfolk Fields (for W.G. Sebald)’ (via itgivesitthew)
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“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born...”
– “Mad Girl’s Love Song” by Sylvia Plath.
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yellowtulipfinch asked: Thank you for the follower. I adore your blog. It's nice to have a lot of writing posts. hearts, miss lady!
Anonymous asked: I love you.
4 tags
“And suddenly you know: that was enough.
You rise and there appears before you...”
– Rainer Maria Rilke, from “Remembering” (adapted from redcolobus)
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“Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to...”
– Sigmund Freud (via duvalsfinest)
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“there is a place in the heart that
will never be filled
and
we will wait...”
– Charles Bukowski (via sylvanslang)
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“i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles...”
– e.e. cummings (via sylvanslang)
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“maybe he left his wedding ring in your cunt by accident
that night when you...”
– “Glue kid” by *VampiricBunny.
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“There is no place to go that is not you, she said.”
– Kelcy Wilburn, “The Catch” (via trainwrite)
“i.
a girl once told me that sad people close their eyes
so they do not see...”
– “i like ugly girls.”
by *VampiricBunny: “sometimes i have to write horrible poems to remind myself i am one.”