Retrouvailles

gammas & gerunds: Stranger

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:43:55 -0400

Natalie Shapero

Never has it been. Never have I felt. The fashion
shifted quickly. I spent the summer switching
a specific valuable placket from blouse to blouse, pins in
my teeth at half dawn, kids already up and slumping
into tire swings. My love was an egg but he did not rot

like an egg,…

"But what I can’t stop thinking about is how the more you need something the more you are unable to..."

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:42:05 -0400

“But what I can’t stop thinking about is how the more you need something the more you are unable to see it. I used to love my son so much. & now that he is dead I am not sure what it is that I love when I love him.”

- Mathias Svalina, I Am a Very Productive Entrepreneur (via leopoldgursky)

Photo

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:39:30 -0400

Photo

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:37:36 -0400

c0ssette: “The Muse” Gabriel de Cool.1895

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:37:16 -0400

c0ssette:

“The Muse” Gabriel de Cool.1895

I look at you every single day and I don’t understand a thing about you…

Sun, 19 May 2013 09:36:43 -0400

I look at you every single day and I don’t understand a thing about you…

guardedcrayons: Crowded House - Don’t Dream It’s Over fitting...

Mon, 13 May 2013 00:32:36 -0400

guardedcrayons:

Crowded House - Don’t Dream It’s Over

fitting for graduation somehow?
my first real grad…homeschool doesn’t count really

Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

Sun, 12 May 2013 15:59:00 -0400

N’écris pas. Je suis triste, et je voudrais m’éteindre.

Les beaux étés sans toi, c’est la nuit sans flambeau.

J’ai refermé mes bras qui ne peuvent t’atteindre…

Duck/Rabbit

Sun, 12 May 2013 15:57:00 -0400

by Chana Bloch

We remember the rabbit when we see
the duck, but we cannot experience
both at the same time
                                              —E.H. Gombrich, Art and Illusion

WHAT do you remember? When I looked at

his streaky glasses, I wanted

to leave him. And before that? He stole those

cherries for me at midnight. We were walking

in the rain and I loved him.

And before that? I saw him coming

toward me that time at the picnic,

edgy, foreign.

But you loved him? He sat in his room with

the shades drawn, brooding. But you

loved him? He gave me

a photo of himself at sixteen, diving

from the pier. It was summer. His arms

outstretched. And before that?

His mother was combing his soft curls

with her fingers and crying. Crying.

Is that what he said? He put on the straw hat

and raced me to the barn. What did he

tell you? Here’s the dried rose, brown

as tobacco. Here’s the letter that I tore

and pasted. The book of blank pages

with the velvet cover. But do you still

love him? When I rub the nap

backwards, the colors lift,

bristle. What do you mean?

Sometimes, when I’m all alone,

I find myself stroking it.

Kim Addonizio

Sun, 12 May 2013 15:56:06 -0400

come close I want to whisper it, to pour
the words burning into you, the same words for each one of you,
listen, it’s simple, I’m saying it now, while I’m still sober,
while I’m not about to weep bitterly into my own glass,
while you’re still here—don’t go yet, stay, stay,
give me your shoulder to lean against, steady me, don’t let me drop,
I’m so in love with you I can’t stand up.

from You Were You Are Elegy

Sun, 12 May 2013 15:55:39 -0400

by Mary Jo Bang

This is how I measure
The year. Everything Was My Fault
Has been the theme of the song
I’ve been singing,
Even when you’ve told me to quiet.
I haven’t been quiet.
I’ve been crying. I think you
Have forgiven me. You keep
Putting your hand on my shoulder
When I’m crying.
Thank you for that. And
For the ineffable sense
Of continuance. You were. You are
The brightest thing in the shop window
And the most beautiful seldom I ever saw.

from Mayakovsky

Sun, 12 May 2013 15:40:52 -0400

by Frank O’Hara

My heart’s aflutter!

I am standing in the bath tub

crying. Mother, mother

who am I? If he

will just come back once

and kiss me on the face

his coarse hair brush

my temple, it’s throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes

I guess, and walk the streets.

I love you. I love you,

but I’m turning to my verses

and my heart is closing

like a fist.

Words! be

sick as I am sick, swoon,

roll back your eyes, a pool,

and I’ll stare down

at my wounded beauty

which at best is only a talent

for poetry.

Cannot please, cannot charm or win

what a poet!

and the clear water is thick

with bloody blows on its head.

I embrace a cloud,

but when I soared

it rained.

fletchingarrows: masumi1117: http://pinterest.com/pin/536702480...

Sun, 12 May 2013 14:48:39 -0400

fletchingarrows:

masumi1117:

http://pinterest.com/pin/536702480563454219/

a perfect bed. makes me want to crawl in and take an endless nap.

oh John Steinbeck

Sun, 12 May 2013 14:47:08 -0400

Socialism never took root in America because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.

perfect human!!!???!!!

Sun, 12 May 2013 11:14:32 -0400

perfect human!!!???!!!

ryandonato: Alex Prager

Sun, 12 May 2013 11:09:05 -0400

ryandonato:

Alex Prager

free-parking: Robert and Shana Parkeharrison, Mourning Cloak,...

Sun, 12 May 2013 11:08:51 -0400

free-parking:

Robert and Shana Parkeharrison, Mourning Cloak, 2006

from Allen Ginsberg

Sun, 12 May 2013 11:05:00 -0400

Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!
The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand
and asshole holy!
Everything is holy! everybody’s holy! everywhere is
holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman’s an
angel!
The bum’s as holy as the seraphim! the madman is
holy as you my soul are holy!
The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is
holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!
Holy Peter holy Allen holy Solomon holy Lucien holy
Kerouac holy Huncke holy Burroughs holy Cas-
sady holy the unknown buggered and suffering
beggars holy the hideous human angels!
Holy my mother in the insane asylum! Holy the cocks
of the grandfathers of Kansas!
Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop
apocalypse! Holy the jazzbands marijuana
hipsters peace & junk & drums!
Holy the solitudes of skyscrapers and pavements! Holy
the cafeterias filled with the millions! Holy the
mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!
Holy the lone juggernaut! Holy the vast lamb of the
middle class! Holy the crazy shepherds of rebell-
ion! Who digs Los Angeles IS Los Angeles!
Holy New York Holy San Francisco Holy Peoria &
Seattle Holy Paris Holy Tangiers Holy Moscow
Holy Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy the
clocks in space holy the fourth dimension holy
the fifth International holy the Angel in Moloch!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy the railroad holy the
locomotive holy the visions holy the hallucina-
tions holy the miracles holy the eyeball holy the
abyss!
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours!
bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent
kindness of the soul!

words & turds: i know i act a fool but i promise you i'm going back to school

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:38:55 -0400

words & turds: i know i act a fool but i promise you i'm going back to school:

wordsandturds:

i know this is tired but my mama came to new york with $16 only. scrubbed white women’s feet and watched little white children to bring her own to the states. she left man after man and family after family,

for the next one. and the promise of romance.

sometimes i wonder…

youwillnotlikeme: marija radosavljevic

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:19:50 -0400

youwillnotlikeme:

marija radosavljevic