Latest Posts by waltztrvck - Page 3

musings on June

1.anne sexton (“the truth the dead know”), 2. anne sexton (“suicide note poem”), 3. mary oliver (“august”), 4. l.m. montgomery (“anne of the island”), 5. morgan parker (“the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth”), 6. found poems: sylvia plath / peter k. steinberg (“percy key among the narcissi”) artwork by hugo grenville

buy me a coffee  

why do all the words sound heavier in my native language?

—  @metamorphesque, Yoojin Grace Wuertz (Mother Tongue), Still Dancing: An Interview With Ilya Kaminsky (by Garth Greenwell), Jhumpa Lahiri (Translating Myself and Others), @lifeinpoetry

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unfolding into another spring

mahmood darwish, sylvia plath, v.e. schwab, ana mendieta

buy me a coffee

never let me go, anne magill

My brother cracked my rib one morning and gave me half of his orange in the evening.

I remember being younger and sometimes wishing to be a single child, to have all the attention and gifts and time but when he was away from home for the first time, I remember crying and stroking his side of the sofa as if blurting out my first wish- for him to be home, without thinking twice, without a shadow of doubt. Even the genie cried. Growing up with a sibling is like being the only people on a stranded boat, constantly figuring out how you can live with them and questioning how you could ever live without them.

One evening, in a fit of anger, I told him how I never wanted him to be my brother and he yelled that he didn't ask for it either. The air smelled like kerosene and my chest was filled with arsenic. I was raging and threw his favorite toy aeroplane down the window, 7 stories of guilt and shame. He cried all night and I wanted to cut off my right hand, the hand that hurt my baby brother. I didn't know if he was ever going to forgive me or even talk to me. The next morning at breakfast, he didn't look at me or say a word, I felt like my chest was about to explode and guilt clouded my vision. But then, I felt a hand quietly holding half of an orange my way.

The only people on a stranded boat. How do you live with them? How could you ever live without them?

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

Edit: I added a visualizer for this on my YouTube channel. Check it out here

Lavender Morning by Chris Cozen

“Cover me with soft Earth.. jasmine, lilies and myrtle; and when they grow above me.. they will breathe the fragrance of my Heart into space.”

— Kahlil Gibran

philippa iksiraq, "flowers," 1990, felt, embroidery floss and duffle

I have so much love in me that I would like to cry.  

Simone de Beauvoir, Kayleb Rae Candrilli, Sylvia Plath, Clarice Lispector

buy me a coffee

indigo,

digital

food as a metaphor for existence, food as a love language, food as just food (poetry recommendations)

September Tomatoes by Karina Borowicz

Ode to Tomatoes by Pablo Neruda

I Ask My Grandmother If We Can Make Lahmajoun by Gregory Djanikian

Here, There Are Blueberries by Mary Szybist

The Orange by Wendy Cope

Oranges by Gary Soto

From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee

Persimmons by Li-Young Lee

Eating Together by Li-Young Lee

Self-Portrait as So Much Potential by Chen Chen

Chasing Utopia by Nikki Giovanni

In the Kitchen by Chen Jun

Food by Brenda Hillman

Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

I love you. I want us both to eat well by Christopher Citro

Baked Goods by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

Bread by W. S. Merwin

buy me a coffee

— Maggie Nelson, Bluets

collage work by paw grabowski (oejerum)

i think waiting together is a love language. wait for the train with me, so we can talk a little longer. wait for dinner with me, we can slow dance in the kitchen. wait for me until i can talk after crying my eyes out, hold me, we will figure it out. wait for me when it gets rough, i know i can get through this (with you). wait for me in the car, this song is too good to not finish listening to it. wait for the first snow with me, cold red noses and bright eyes. lets wait for each other, i love you.

“The Moon & The Stars” dress by Frieda Lepold

"What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.”

— Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis, In The Penal Colony, and Other Stories.

musings on touch

margaret atwood, natalie diaz, ocean vuong, susan sontag, anne carson, marya hornbacher, mary oliver

Mahmoud Darwish, “Viewpoint,” trans. Fady Joudah, in The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry, edited by Ilya Kaminsky [ID in alt text]

people by rae kolarova

les tilleuls \ bleue \ noémie \ nap \ de l’art de garder des secrets \ après la pluie \ elles suivent le pollen gris \ bleues \ l’espèce fabulatrice \ refle-xion

kofi

Photography by Xuebing Du

Instagram: xuebing.du

Phyllis Shafer, Pennyroyal Retreat, 2013, oil on linen on board, 20 × 16 inches.

Heather Havrilesky, How to Be a Person in the World

musings on selfhood

1. Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life / 2. Su Xinyu / 3. Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life / 4. Su Xinyu / 5. Clarice Lispector, A Breath of Life / 6. Su Xinyu / 7. Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being / 8. Delfina Karmona / 9. Andrés Cerpa, The Vault / 10. Delfina Karmona / 11. Emily Dickinson / 12. Delfina Karmona / 13. Clarice Lispector, A Breath of Life

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Rainer Maria Rilke in a letter to Lou Andreas-Salomé, published in Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: A Love Story in Letters

~ Beautiful Magnolias swaying in a fountain

“You will freeze in place if you remain this way. You must not, dear. You have to move.”

— Rainer Marie Rilke, letter to Sidonie Nádherná von Borutín, August 1, 1913, translated by Ulrich Baer

Vivienne Westwood Corsets