So yes, I will gladly take on your ocean
just to swim beneath you
so I can kiss the bends of your knees
in appreciation for the work they do
keeping your head above water.
- Mike McGee
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
to love secrecy
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Monday, July 30, 2012
in one wash of memory
I
sometimes think my vision of the sea is the clearest thing I own. I
pick it up, exile that I am, like the purple ‘lucky stones’ I used to
collect with a white ring all the way round, or the shell of a blue
mussel with its rainbowy angel’s fingernail interior; and in one wash of
memory the colors deepen and gleam, the early world draws breath.
- Sylvia Plath via Royal Quiet DeLuxe.
Photo by Tracy Nolan
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Friday, July 13, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
oak plank rib cage
(source: je te veux. n'arrete pas.)
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
like pale gold
- Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
Monday, June 25, 2012
that lightning in the chest
She takes the dreams out of his skull--a small boat, its departure from the harbor, the gradual loss of land. She can smell the hull wood baked into brittleness by the sun, the drop over an edge into nothing but water & horizon, the slackening of time that accompanies the absence of spatial direction.
She sits there for awhile, culling through his brain.
- Dawn Clifton Tripp, Moontide
(image: Patterson Maker)
She sits there for awhile, culling through his brain.
- Dawn Clifton Tripp, Moontide
(image: Patterson Maker)
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
full of secrets
the taste of salt on his lips, his neck,
dark romance driven deep
into white bones,
disastrous shipwreck.
The images are sudden, as is he. He trusts suddenness, lives on rash, momentary impulses, lives in a world too fast for thought.
Salt is always on his neck.
He is always in the sea.
(image: aubreyrd)
Saturday, June 16, 2012
letters to a young poet
Things aren’t all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have
us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that
no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are
works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our
own small, transitory life.
- Rilke
- Rilke
Friday, June 15, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
more myself than I am
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's
is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.
Monday, June 11, 2012
memory & imagination & language
The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that
others might then dream along with you, and in this way memory and
imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head. There is
the illusion of aliveness.
-Tim O'Brien
-Tim O'Brien
Friday, June 8, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
feel the love
So incredibly adorable. A good reminder to respect & love all that you can. xo.
photo via Oceanic Island
photo via Oceanic Island
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
a fabulous truth about writers:
You see, a writer will only
look at you in words, fancy
words, full of fancy nouns and
fancy verbs, and gaze
at you longingly in adjectives.
They will wrap your body and
keep it warm in never
ending sentences and undress
you with just the right
punctuations and you will
never be able to
read them like the way
they can break open your spine
and read you like
you’re their favorite book.
And when they are done,
they will leave you in a
state of ellipsis (—speechless;
wanting more, yearning
more, waiting, staying for
the rest, hoping for a story
that never ends.)
- via obliteratedheart, by the writer of 52hearts.
look at you in words, fancy
words, full of fancy nouns and
fancy verbs, and gaze
at you longingly in adjectives.
They will wrap your body and
keep it warm in never
ending sentences and undress
you with just the right
punctuations and you will
never be able to
read them like the way
they can break open your spine
and read you like
you’re their favorite book.
And when they are done,
they will leave you in a
state of ellipsis (—speechless;
wanting more, yearning
more, waiting, staying for
the rest, hoping for a story
that never ends.)
- via obliteratedheart, by the writer of 52hearts.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
constellations lead me home
-Andrea Gibson, from “Wasabi”
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
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