"

let’s live suddenly without thinking

under honest trees,
a stream
does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling
-water pursues the angry dream
of the shore. By midnight,
a moon
scratches the skin of the organised hills

an edged nothing begins to prune

let’s live like the light that kills
and let’s as silence,
because Whirl’s after all:
(after me)love,and after you.
I occasionally feel vague how
vague idon’t know tenuous Now-
spears and The Then-arrows making do
our mouths something red,something tall

"

ee cummings, let’s live suddenly without thinking (via agildedpavlova)

designedinteriors:

The Galata Bridge, Turkey | by CarolynEaton

designedinteriors:

The Galata Bridge, Turkey | by CarolynEaton

(via onethousandforevers)

voicemailpoems:

'untitled poem'
by Cayla Lockwood

what about when i find you in the bushes
what about when it’s cold outside
you can’t do that shit no more

did you know
that you can buy property on the moon
one guy owns the moon
he’s also a trained ventriloquist

there’s a phone number you can call
you get a certificate and everything
30 bucks an acre
look
we don’t have to be here no more
but we could still exist
out there


———————————————————

Cayla called us from Syracuse, NY.

1-910-703-POEM

sfcartoonartmuseum:

comicbookcovers:

Archie’s Pals And Gals #148, March 1981, cover by Stan Goldberg

It’s Tax Day!

sfcartoonartmuseum:

comicbookcovers:

Archie’s Pals And Gals #148, March 1981, cover by Stan Goldberg

It’s Tax Day!

(Source: hobbesdeep)

ratrapss:

new Jewel erasures up at Ghost Proposal today
- - -
http://ghostproposal.com/issue4/dillonjwelch.php

ratrapss:

new Jewel erasures up at Ghost Proposal today

- - -

http://ghostproposal.com/issue4/dillonjwelch.php

The Trees

fireeagle:

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.


—Philip Larkin
(source: NPR)

hobbesdeep:

Deep Strips, vol. 15

hobbesdeep:

Deep Strips, vol. 15

"

(…)
so believe me when i tell you that early before dinner
when you boiled that pot of water and then just pulled it from the burner

i thought you were crazy
and i’m sorry

you said it wasn’t quite time yet
but when we needed it
the water would be ready

how it boils faster now that it has known the temperature

i’m sorry i said the extra seconds that could ever be saved
weren’t worth the bother

because now thinking of you and you and you and you

waiting for the right hour when we’re finally together

however brief

then tiny seconds do matter

how quickly we’ll remember

"

part of the poem ”there are a lot of yous in this poem and one of them is you” by john mortara [video] (via f-weh)

(via shabbydollhouse)

One Art

fireeagle:

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice…