…because if you were here right now i would massage your back until your skin...– Rudy Francisco-Love Poem Medly (via falulahh)
“I imagine the morning gets jealous whenever she wakes up at noon.” - Rudy Francisco. Such a beautiful line of poetry.
POETRYEATER: Joshua Beckman, "The going. The... →
poetryeater: The going. The letters. The staying. The life of the little boy. The staying and the life of the little boy. The letter. The mushrooms. Dear Mom, I’m writing to say how good it felt when we took the mushrooms. Our skin. The boy getting on the bus and the street lamp. It’s getting cooler. The life of the little boy. The life of the little boy.
Where do the words go when we have said them?– Margaret Atwood, from ”The Small Cabin” (via the-final-sentence)
Sharing Poetry: Robert Frost, "Birches" →
sharingpoetry: When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon…
thoughtyoushouldseethis: So you know how I keep banging on about how designers have the potential to create a present (or future) that mere mortals can’t imagine? And then I generally grumpily add that it’s a shame the visions of the future are pretty lame? Well, today, perusing links over my breakfast, I near enough dropped my piece of toast after coming across this truly lovely installation...
I think the health of our civilization, the depth of our awareness about the...– Carl Sagan, Cosmos (via bookoasis)
If information is the currency of democracy, then libraries are its bank.– Wendell Ford (U.S. Senator), from a 1998 Library Association Conference speech (via bookoasis)
Richard Siken, "Detail of the Woods"
poetryeater: I looked at all the trees and didn’t know what to do. A box made out of leaves. What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless. Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else. I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long nights moon. From the landscape: a sense of scale. From the dead: a sense of scale. I turned my back on the story. I sense of...
But I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be...– Olivia Wilde (via timsdoppelganger)