June 2011
One thing you still lack. [ but never can hold ]
“Will we be destroyed by joy?
What if we lose everything? “
He asked it to no one in particular.
He asked himself rhetorically, he asked it to the road beneath his feet, sitting in the gutter.
He asked it for the sake of release without anticipating an answer.
“I’d choose it,” she said.
She always answered, he should have anticipated it by now. She always...
“The secret is not to dream,” she whispered. “The secret is to wake up. Waking up...”
– Terry Pratchett
“Wonderful girl, either I’m gonna kill her or I’m starting to like...”
– Han solo. {3 episodes of star wars in the past 2 days, remembering why my first crush was on Han solo}
It’s this darn unreasonable obsession with seeing...
‘It’s not as if I can’t sleep.’ She said. ‘I’m just afraid that if I close my eyes I’ll never wake up.’
I looked at her, playing with the fraying holes in the tablecloth. She looked tired, and sort of stretched. Like life had been too wide and too deep for her.
She continued without looking up. She never looked up. ‘And you know that feeling that you get. The one, usually late at...
Anne Lamott {on people who can critique your work}
I worry that Jesus drinks himself to sleep when he hears me talk like this. But a month before my friend pammy died, she said something that may have permanently changed me.
We had gone shopping for a dress for me to wear to a nightclub with the man I was seeing at the time. Pammy was in a wheelchair, wearing her queen mum wig, the easy rider look in her eyes. I tried on a lavender mini dress,...
“You’re stronger than this, you were always smarter than this” he sighed, “and I’m tired of you pretending you aren’t, now is the part where you leave. “
que sera sera.: they say no one controls the... →
alexfarncomb:
they say no one controls the weather but I saw you make it rain, you lit up a match, it made a flame, you threw it on the pile of papers I made, on those papers were my poems in my poems was my heart and in my heart was my love for you, but I saw you burn them up in smoke. And I saw the…
I always kept my mouth clean while my hands were...
The brother of heaviness followed me today, kept trying to talk to me in the car,I tried to drown him in the music but he would not leave. He reached over and inside my jacket, he said no words as all his hands moved through my chest, into my ribcage finding themselves stuck,
between my bones and heart;
tugging to be freed,
he pulled my insides out with him; strung out all the recent...
The old man came to the young man,
said “I’ll trade you my watch for your heart;
the hands don’t align,
but it keeps perfect time
and I swear it won’t tear you apart.”
The young man said to the man so old,
“can’t you look in my eyes,
your request is quite bold.
what is it that you really ask,
and why are your hands this cold?”
...
“maybe I have a few things to say”, she said quietly, and looked away.”
shut your eyes.
alexfarncomb:
I am writing this poem And you are probably thinking it's about you And maybe it is Alright it definitely is, Dammit, Close your eyes when you read my poems. If you keep them open you're just going to see my heart, And there's no wordplay capable of hiding the inner man inside The desires deep inside So close your eyes Turn around This poem is about you But it's written for me.
...
“I remember being young in the 1960s… We had a great sense of the future, a great...”
– Bernardo Bertolucci (via fridaynightsaturdaymourning) 