April 2011
“Paradise, as people describe it, seems to me much too musical, and I confess in...”
– Théophile Gautier, Mademoiselle de Maupin (via proustitute)
A hope that wants naught but to fly
And that simply refuses to die
That under the enemy’s fire
Pulls downfallen friends from the mire
That in the distraught of their violence
Will simply caress you in silence
“Promise me you’ll always remember: you’re braver than you believe,...”
– Winnie the Pooh
El bello poema
Las palabras maravillosas
Los ohos que miran
Enfrian y tiran
Idioma prostetica
Canta por mi!
thegreatpacific asked: chem girl
y/n
y/n
I’d heard of Proust, and I’d heard all these great things about him. I always thought to myself, whats the big deal? Well, I began reading Swann’s Way today.
I was on the verge of tears after the first 5 pages. Quite a big deal indeed.
“Thought I’d something more to say.”
Dear Big
Hi Big,
From the gifts I have been receiving, it appears that you read through my blog. Firstly, let me thank you for everything you have done and given me. I am quite beside myself with joy at the moment, as my binder was amazing. The soup you made for me was very delicious. Again, thank you :D
Secondly, I am quite embarrassed. This is a place I use to vent sometimes, and I really thought no...
thoughts are crawling on my skin
“You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies...”
– Jorge Luis Borges (via cementandaluminum)
Omg there is the prettiest chick I have ever seen here at Starbucks. Like completely shattering my concept of beauty; like I have never seen true beauty until today. Wow. Every other girl I have ever liked now looks like a man compared to her. Wow. I never knew beauty like this could exist. She is like the sun, or the moon, or the sea; she embodies a genuine beauty, a beauty comparable to the...
“I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.”
– Pablo Neruda (via goodpoetry)
“And I say to you someone will remember us
in time to come”
– Sappho, fragment translated by A. S. Kline (via proustitute)
“Yet no matter how deeply I go down into myself
My God is dark, and like a...”
– Rainer Maria Rilke (via awritersruminations; syllablefingers)
“He’s freed from his loneliness by the word. Isn’t that the point of poetry?...”
– Anna Kamienska (via fuckyeahpolishpoets)
“I carry silence with me
the way others carry snapshots
of loved ones”
– Stephen Dunn, from “The Silence” (via ahuntersheart)
“… we are only fiction. We are only the idea we have of ourselves.”
– Edmond Jabès, from Cut of Time (via proustitute)
“I have nothing to say/ and I am saying it/ and that is poetry/ as I need it.”
– John Milton Cage Jr. (American composer, 1912 - 1992)
I weep
Before the ethereal shimmer
Of a dying poem
Dancing through this social normative inferno
What a thought crime!
Madly chewing through the feces!
Violently defecating beauty!
Don’t look away
Why don’t you look away?
The social normative redundancy
Has rendered this language useless
Nothing more can be said with English
Time to look beyond the words
Love is the only narcotic that truly frightens me.
Finally picked up Absolution - Muse. Pretty epic album.
Love moves things, just like gravity. To be in love is to be in orbit; forever circling round the object of desire, but never arriving.
There be some fine ass honeyz in the oakes computer labs sometimes…
El mexicano
El pinche mexicano
Mira como lo odio
Mira que berguensa le da
En tener esa cara
En ablar ese mendigo idioma
Sodernized
This is where she died…
So come one, come all, young ones!
With wide eyes and dreamy smiles
Come tour the grand slaughterhouse!
‘Tis the ultimate salvation, I assure you!
You need only forfeit your soul to enter…
And as the superior dead white males take their sweet time
Carefully, surgically sodomizing you
As their values and standards
Are brutally shoved down your...
“Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends,...”
– Virginia Woolf (via fuckyeahcostumedrama)
Godamn that was a shitty poem xD. My apologies.
this shit i write to you
what i thought but could not say
the way i half fell in love with you
from a gaze alone
this shit i cant write to you
no matter how i try
i should have gone that extra inch
or not gone in at all
this shit that now will haunt my dreams
this fucking sweetly curse
to taste your smile was far too much
the hope was far far worse
“I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing...”
– J.D. Salinger
Watching Pink Floyd The Wall. Floors me every time.
“We cling to words like drowning men to straws. But still we drown, we drown.”
– Anna Kamienska, from “In That Great River: A Notebook” (via lesmotsjustes)
I met someone today who listens to porcupine tree. Awesomeness.
I’m fucking broke and hungry
“Is there anybody
Out there?”
– Pink Floyd
“…poetry is what
he thought but did not say.”
– Heather McHugh (via proustitute)
“…recite the list
of what you’ve learned to do without.
It is stronger than...”
– Stephen Dunn, from “Traveling” (adapted from yesyes)
“Isn’t this where we came in?”
Why bother talking about your problems?
No one cares
The best thing to do is to let them sit
Slowly collecting
Slowly gaining mass
Until they collapse in on themselves
Into a black hole
Devouring everything
Devouring you
And thus,
No more problems!
Every word I utter
Is a new bar to my cage
So that all I can ever aspire to
Is creating a beautiful cage
“They were lovely, your eyes, but you didn’t know where to look.”
– George Seferis (via proustitute)
“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”
– Ernest Hemingway (via proustitute)
My shit keeps breaking
My computer
My phone
My fucking heart
The future has broken in two
Like a turd
Sinking in the mire
My vision has a crack in the middle
In which faces retort and implode
Faces become Feces
For that ‘a’ is brutally dismembered
The concept of breaking erupts into a chasm
And falling within
And flowing throughout
Like an incomplete orgasm
So...
“A poem,
like trying
to remember,
is a movement
of the whole body.”
– Rosemarie Waldrop, from “The Ambition of Ghosts: I. Remembering into Sleep” (via proustitute)
“I woke up and I had a big idea
To buy a new soul at the start of every year
I...”
– Porcupine Tree
Smile
“Happiness is the death of poets”
– Honoré de Balzac
Breaking my back
To experience the exact form of suffering you fancy
Weaving tears in the perfect pattern
To earn a moment’s glance
Dragged through the Mire
Under the false pretense of salvation
You are not the second coming
Nor the first
You waste my time
With your romantic waste
