February 2012
2 posts
“If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty...”
– Evelyn Waugh (via misswallflower)
“Suspect each moment, for it is a thief, tiptoeing away with more than it brings.”
– John Updike, A Month of Sundays (via hateshiploveship)
January 2012
3 posts
December 2011
10 posts
Sharing Poetry: Sharon Olds, "The One Girl at the... →
sharingpoetry:
When I take my girl to the swimming party I set her down among the boys. They tower and bristle, she stands there smooth and sleek, her math scores unfolding in the air around her. They will strip to their suits, her body hard and indivisible as a prime number, they’ll plunge in the deep end,…
Sharing Poetry: A. E. Stallings, "Containment" →
sharingpoetry:
So long I have been carrying myself Carefully, carefully, like a small child With too much water in a real glass Clasped in two hands, across a space as vast As living rooms, while gazes watch the waves That start to rile the little inland sea And slap against its cliffs’ transparency, Revise and…
Yelping with Cormac: Urban Outfitters →
yelpingwithcormac:
Union Square - San Francisco, CA
Cormac M. | Author | Lost in the chaparral, NM
Three stars.
Which is exactly why I’m writing my term paper on the man.
And they come there in great numbers shuffling into that mausoleum that was built for them like some monument to the slow death of their world and among those tokens and talismans of that faded empire…
November 2011
9 posts
Sharing Poetry: Robert Bringhurst, "These Poems,... →
sharingpoetry:
These poems, these poems, these poems, she said, are poems with no love in them. These are the poems of a man who would leave his wife and child because they made noise in his study. These are the poems of a man who would murder his mother to claim the inheritance. These are the poems of a man…
from Kevin Connolly, "Sundial"
poetryeater:
I have my rant about transience and intransigence. You like to run down the simile as a viable artistic strategy—you call it “sex through
a sheet,” but the way you call it that makes it seem so vividly sexy: the sheet with my name on it, the sad euphemism
lugeing its way toward the gap, the downspout, spinning into unknown.
October 2011
19 posts
“Sometimes he talked of his father, whom he hated with a hatred that was burningly close to love, of his mother, whom he loved with a love that was keenly close to hatred, or to revolt.”
D.H Lawrence The Rainbow
September 2011
2 posts
6 tags
9 tags
“Yes, one has to smash up one’s old self and get a new one with a new skin (slow...”
– D. H. Lawrence, from a letter to Mabel Dodge Luhan, 19 September 1924 (via proustitute)
August 2011
1 post
3 tags
Sharing Poetry: Louise Glück, "Midsummer" →
sharingpoetry:
On nights like this we used to swim in the quarry, the boys making up games requiring them to tear off the girls’ clothes and the girls cooperating, because they had new bodies since last summer and they wanted to exhibit them, the brave ones leaping off the high rocks — bodies crowding the…
July 2011
3 posts
“There is an evening coming in
Across the fields, one never seen before,
That...”
– Philip Larkin, “Going” (via sharingpoetry and lademarche)
(via awritersruminations)
June 2011
7 posts
